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WILLIAM BREWSTER, 1 EDITORS,
SAM. G. WHITTAKER,
Ypingrous Votfrg.
Jonathan's Reply in Verse, to John
Hull's Boasting in the London Times.
I wonder, John, if you forget, some sixty years
tame,
When we were very young, John, your head
was white as now,
.You didn't count us much, John, and thought
to make us run,
But found out your a mistake, John, ono day at
Lexington.
And when we asked you in, John, to take a
cup of tea,
Made in Boston harbor, John, the teapot of the
free,
You didn't like the party, John, it was'nt quite
select ;
There were some aboriginies you didn't quite
expect.
You didn't like their learners, John, you could
not stand their tea, •
You thought it got into their heads and made
them quite too free;
But you got very tipsy, John, (you drink a lit
tle still,)
The day you marched across the Neck and
ran down Bunker Hill.
You acted just like mad, John, and tumbled
o'er and o'er,
By your stalwart Yankee son, John, who han
dled half a score;
But now I hope you are sober, John, you're too
fat to run,
You hav'nt got the legs, John, youhad at Ben.
nington.
You had some corns upon your toes, Cornwal
lis that was one,
And at the fight at Yorktown, why then you
could not run,
You tried quite hard, I will admit, and threw
away your gun,
And gave your sword, fyo, John, for shame, to
one George Washington.
I do not think you'll e'er forget the time you
went to York,
And ate so like a beast John, you raised the
price of pork,
Then we had some to spare, John, our hooks
with pork we baited,
And hung them out on Jersey shore, and you
evacuated.
Another much loved spot, John, such sweet as
sociations,
When you were going down to York to coo
your rich relations,
The Dutchmen of the Mohawk, John, anxious
-• to entertain,
Put up some "Oates" that stopped you, John
on Saratoga's plain.
That hill you must remember, John, 'tis high
‘ery green,
Wo menu to have it lithographed, and send it
to your Queen,
I know you love that hill, John, you dream of
it o nights,
The name it burn in '76, was simple Bemis'
11 tall ts.
Your uld friend, Ethan Allen, John, of Conti
nental fame,
Who called you to surrender in "Great Jeho
vah's" name,
You recognized the "Congress" then, authority
most high,
The morn he called so early, John, and took
from you Fort Tit
I know you'll grieve to hear it John, and feel
quite sore and sad,
To learn that Ethan's dead, John, and yet
there's many a lad
Growing in his highland home, that's fond of
guns and
And gets upjust as early, John, those brave
Green Mountain Boys.
Oh no, we never "mention it," wo never the%
it lucky,
The day you charged the cotton bags, and got
into Kentucky;
I thought you knew geography, but misses in
their teens
Will tell you that Kentucky lay, just then, be
low Orleans.
The "beauty" it was there, John, beyond the
cotton bags,
And did you get the "booty," John, somehow
my memory flags ;
I think you made a "swap," John, I've got it
in my head,
Instead of gold and silver, you took it in cold
lead.
The mistress of the ocean, John, she couldn't
rule the lakes,
You had some ganders in
, your fleet, but, John,
you had no "Drakes ;
Your choicest spirits too, were there, you took
both hock and sherry,
But John, your could'ot stand our fare—you
couldn't take our Perry.
We make them all just so, John, on land or on
the sea,
We took this little continent on purpose to be
fr.(' •,
Our 1:;:gle's free, he loves to soar, he cannot
bear a cage,
But, John, he loves to scratch, the bars, and
make the lion rage.
Our glorious stars are sparkling bright, introit•
sing year by year,
Supported by a thousand hearts that never
knew a fear;
Our children lisp it in their prayers, 'tis carried
o'er the sea;
Post hear it John ? it thunders there, "We're
children of the free."
Free as our sires of '76, as bold and bravo and
true,
To worship God, and keep the land, dear John,
we took from you ;
To keep our flag on the land, unsullied on the
wave,
Until the last bright star shall eet on the last
freeman's grave.
i`jitutor.
*JO® •T*NZO
PlNEviLue, May 28th, 1842.
• _
TQ Ma. TomesoN :—Dear Sir—Ever
sense you was down to Pineville, it's been
on my mind to write you a letter, but the
boys'lowed I'd better not, 'case you mought
take me off 'bout my spellin' and diction
ary. But something happened to me t'other
night, so monstrous provokin', that I can't
help tellin' you 'bout it, to you can put
other young chaps on their gard. It all
cum of chewin' so much tobacker, and I
reckon I've wished there was no sich pla
gy stuff, morn five hundred times sense it
happened.
You know the Stallinses lives on the
plantation in the summer and goes to town
in the winter. Well. Miss Mary Stallion,
who you know is the darlinest gal in the
county, cum home t'other day to see her.
folks. You know she's been to the Female
College, down to Macon, for most a year
now. Before she went, she used to go
fishin' and huckleberryin' with us, with no
thin' but a calico sun-bonnet on, and was
the wildest thing you ever saw. Well, I
always used to have a sort of a sneaking
notion of Mary Stallion, and so when she
cum, I brushed up and was 'termined to
have a rite serious talk with her 'bout old
matters ; not knowin' but she mought be
captivated by some of them Macon fellows.
So, sure enough, on started unbeknow
in' to anybody, and rode rite over to the
plantation—(you know our is rite jinin the
widder Stallion.) Well, when I got thar,
I felt a little sort o' sheepish, but I soon
soon got over that, when Miss Carline said
(but she didn't mean me to hear her,)
“There Pinney, pats Miss Mary's nick
name, you know,) there's your bo' come."
Miss Mary looked mighty sort o' redish
when I shuck her hand and told her howdy;
and she made a sort of a stoop over and a
dodge back, like the little gals does to the
school-warm, and said "Good creole', Mr.
Jones," (site used to call me jest Joe.)
'Take a chair, Joseph,' said 11iss Car
line; and we set down in the parlor, and I
begun to talk to Miss Mary 'bout Macon,
and the long ride she had, the bad roads,
and the monstrous hot weather, and the
like.
She didn't say much, but was in a migh.
ty good humor and laughed a heap. I told
her I never seen such n change on anybo
dy. Nor never I did. Why, she didn't
look like the same gal—good gracious !she
looked so nice and trim—jest like some of
them pictures in Mr. Graham's Magazine
with liar hair all komed down lungsi le,
her face, no slick and shiaey as a Inoghany
burow. When she laughed she didn't
open her mouth like she used to; and set
up straight and still in her chair, and look
ed so different, but so monstrous pretty !
I nx'd her a heap of questions, 'bout how
she liked Macon, and the Female College,
and so forth; and she told me a heap 'bout
'em. But old M.ss Stallins and Miss Car
line and Miss Kemal), and all of 'em kep
all the time interruptin' us, axis"bout ins
, ther, if she was well, and it she was gwine
to Spring Church next Sunday, and what
luck she had with her soap, and all sioh
stuff, and I. do believe I told the old wo
man's old turkey-hen was settite on four
teen eggs.
%Veil; I wasn't to be backed out in that.
away, so I kep it a gain' the best way I
could, 'till bimeby old Mrs. Stalling let her
knittin' fall three or four times, and then
begun to nod and snap like a fishin.pole
that was all the time gittin' bites. I seed
the gals looking at one another and pinch
in' one another's elbows, and bliss blary
said she wondered what time it vas and
said that the College diciplines, or some.
thin' like that, didn't 'low late hours. I
seed how the game was gwine—but how.
soinever, I kep Whin' to her like a cotton.
gin in packin' time, us I could clip it, till
bimeby the old lady went to bed, and actor
a bit the gals all cleared and left Miss Ma
ry to herself. That was jest the thing I
wanted.
Well, she sot on one side of the fire-place
and 1 sot on t'other. so I could spit on the
hearth,;war theer nothin' but a lightered
chunk burnin' to give light. Well, we
talked and talked, and I knew you'd like
to hear all we talked about, but that would
be too long. When I'm very interested
in anything, or get bother'd about any
thing, I can't help chawin' a heap of to.
backer, and then I spite uncontionable,
'specially if I'm talkin'. Well, we sot Om
and talked and tho way I spit, was lumen
to crickets ! I axed her if she had any
hoes down to Macon.
'Oh, yes,' she said, and then she went
on and named over Mathew Mali; Nat.
Filosofy, Al. Geber, Retric Stronomy, and
a whole heap of fellers, that she'd been
keepin' company with most all her Rine.
.Well,' sez I, s'pose they're mazin
popular with you, ain't they, Miss Mary?'
for I felt mighty oneasy, and began to spit
a great deal worse.
•Yes,' sez she, they're the most interes.
ting companions I ever had, and I am anx
ious to resume their pleasant society.'
I tell you what, that sort o' stumped me
and I :pit rite on the chunk and made it
"flicker and flare" like the mischief; it
was a good thing it did, for I blushed as
blue as a Ginney squash,
LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE."
•
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, A
I turned my tobacco round in my mouth
and spit two or three times, and the old
chunk kept a most bominable fryiu'.
, Then I spose you're gwine to forget old
acquaintances,' sez I, sense you's been to
Macon, 'mong them lawyers and doctors ;
is you, Miss Mary I You thinks more of
them than you does any body cisc, I sup
pose.'
'Oh,' sez she, 'l'm devoted to them—l
think of them day and night I'
That was too much—it shot me right
up, and I sot as still as could be for morn
a minute. I never felt so warm behind the
ears afore in all my life. Thunder ! how
my blood did bile up all over me, and I felt
like I could knock Matthew Matix into a
grease-spot, if he'd only been flair. Miss
Mary sot with her hankercher up to her
fact, and I looked right into the fire-place.
The blue blaze was runnin' round over the'
old chunk, ketchin' hold hold here and letin
go thar, sometimes gwine most out, and
then blazin up a little—l couldn't speak—
' I was makin up my mind for tellin her the
siteatiou of my hart— I was jest gwine to
tell her my feelins, but imiuth was full of
tobacker, so I had to spit, and slap it went,
right on the light wood chunk, and out it
went, spatig !
I swar, I never did feel so in all my born
days. I didn't know what to do.
'My Lord, Miss Mary,' sez I, didn't
go to do it—jest tell inc the way to the
kitchen and I'll go and git a light.'
But she never said nothin', so I sot down
ugin, thinkin she'd gone to get one her
self, for it was pith dark, and 1 couldn't
see my hand afore my face.
Well, I sot thar and ruminated, and wai
ted a long lime, but she didn't come, so I
begun to think may be she wasn't gone.
I couldn't hear nothin, nor I couldn't see
nothin; so bimcby sez I, very low, for I
didn't want to wake up the family, sez I.
'Miss Mary ! Miss Mary !' but nobody
answered.
Thinks I what's to be done 1 I tried
agin.
, Aliss Mary ! Miss Mary ! but it w
Then I henrd the gals snickerin and
laughing in the next room, and I begun to
see how i. was ; Miss Mary was gone and
left me titer alone.
I begun to feel about the room, and the
lust thing I knew, spang ! goes my head,
rite an the edge of a dore that was stand•
in' open. The fire flew, and I couldn't
help but swore a little, •d— n the dare,'
sez I, 'what's my hat ?' Bat nobody said
nothin, so I begun to think it was best for
me to leave, and never mind my hat. Well,
I got through the parlor dare after rakin
my shins three or four times agin the
chairs, and was feelin along through the
entry for the front dore; but somehow I
was so flustrated that I tuck tho rung way,
and blotchy kerslash I went, right over old
Mrs. Stallinies spinin-wheel, onto the floor!
I hurt inysel a good deel ; but that didn't
make me half so tnad as to hear them con
fonuded gals a gigglin and laughin at me,
'Oh,' said one of 'em (it was Miss Ke
slab, for I knowed her voice,) 'there goes
mothers wheel ! my Lord !'
I tried to set the cussed thing up, but it
seemed to have morn twenty legs, and
wouldn't stand up to how,—maybe it was
broke, I wont out of the dere, but hadn't
got morn down the steps, when bow! wow!
wow comes four or five infernal great big
coon dogs, rite at me. Git out! git out!
Cato! call off your dogs !' sez T, as loud as
I could. But Cato was sound asleep, and
if I hadn't run back into the hall, and got
out the trust way as quick as I could, them
devils o'chawed my bones for true.
When I got to my horse, I felt like a
feller jest out of a hornet's nest; and I rec
kon I went home a little of the quickest
Next mornin old Mrs. Stallins sent my hat
by a little nigger; but I haint seed Mary
:Rollins sense. Now you fulk'es see what
comes of chawin tobacker ! No more from
Your friend, till death,
Jos. Jones.
P. S. I believe Miss Mary's gone to
the Female College ngin. If you see her,
I wish you would say a good word to her
for me, and tell her I fultive her all, and
I hope she will do the same by me. Don't
you think I'd better rite her a letter, and
explane matters to her ?
NOTARENV.--This letter was rit to my
particular friend Mr. Thompson, when he
was editen the Family Companion Maga.
zino, down in Macon. I had no notion of
turnin author then : but when it come out
with my name to it, and thear want no use
denyin it, and especially as he rit me a let
ter beggin I would go on and rite for the
Miscellany, I felt a obligation restin on me
to continue my correspondence to that pa
-1 per. All my other letters was rit to Mr.
Thompson, in Madison. J. J.
Pre. Julius Ctesar Ilanuibal's Lecture.
NO. XXVI.
TREMENDOUS TUPSICKORR A NS-
When you cast your I's (der winders ob
de sole, as an orpher ob extinction hob ex
pressed it.) Wen you cast your l's ober i
de face of nacher, you, no doubt, tab ob.
sarved dot dancing am a berry extensive I
ingredient in de composition oh creation.
De young lobes ob de trees full ob de green
blood oh youth, dance to de music ob do
wind. De ripe old fruit dances its red self
to de ground in de fall, De white clouds
dance threw de circumambius heabens.—
De little pigs dance ober de pertater peel
ins and refuge ob de dinner table dat are
put in der stye for der nourishment. De
wavelicks ob de oshun. and de riplicks ob
do streamlicks, dance in do sunbeams. De
lams drnce is de fields by de side ob der
d—s. Little ruggers dance wen dey git
cotched fur hooking trifling articles ob sec•
korine nourishment. Life am a great dance
and a pretty dance it ant too sumtimes, on'
I tink we am all familiar wid de expres
sion ob de dance ob death. But taint 'bout
no dance ob death I'm gwine to 'dress you
dis ebenin. It's about a berry ginteel and
distongig ball, to which de company ob
you veneble shepherd was respectfully
inwited to attend, at Colored People's Hall
No. I, owned by Massa Pinks.
Now, my (rens, I ain't much oh a danc
er myself, do sumbody may he. No,
Pin what dey call in de upperten lernoodle
language, a conversational man, and your
old Quvner was never r. ore incensed in
in his creation dan wen he saw himself put
down on dat Mr. Whitybrown's list at less
dan a cent a site. Now toy &ens, p'raps
yot donne who Mr. Whitybrown is, and
ns you air.t in good 'siety, jis splain de
matter to you if you'll sense tne making a
short exscresenee.
Whitybrown ant dat same feller as keeps
de seller next to Anty Clawson's. He's
in do blacking boots professhun, and adds
to his odder bizness de genre' gittin up ob
parties. Wen pusbons ulRr gwino to gib a
grand sworree, and dunno nobody dat is
'spectable to inwite, day pay Whitybrown
so much per head to tell 'em who to ax.—
Darfor, any pusson as wants to got
iuwitn
tions to, or tickets for clam soup, gibs Will
tybrowu twenty-fibe cents, or an old lint or
pair ob boots, to be put on his list, so he
make money out ob boll' of 'em. But I
was gwine to tell yon what it was dot hurt
my feelinks. I seed do list and prospecic•
us of dat man, and here it ant :
.Contlemen oh do fittest quality, and ub
ebry color, supplied to parties and warran
ted washed, at de following rates :
Dancing men, 25 cts. a nice
" wid black pants, 28 ‘'
gloves complete, 85 t.
Gentlemen Iv id good couduc, 10 tr
•
cts a week
nilking men,
'l . 'llinkiiig men,
1 ',
Poolosofiirs,
0 ,6
Oki Foozle;,
And dar, my frens, was de name ob you
venable pasture under de las head. I felt
mity bad 'bout it for sum time, finally L
cum to der conkulsion dat if I look around
an behold de solar fundiment and de great
works oh nachur, do broad ‘ltssissippi and
de Ataluntic oshun, dat a solitary nigger
am a small fish arter all, and so I cooled
down to my nacheral temrature, and went
to de ball, whar I glooted my l'se on do
graceful forms which Rooted like beatifica
ted polly woggles trees de amazes oh de
dance. De grace which suffuced ebrytink
called to mind de perfec omnipresence ob
de sublimate oh beauty. Miss Clara Chi
na, whose complexion mite vie wid de pic
tur by Mistur Kummer in de Exhibishun,
was 'tired in a broche circoline ob exquis
ite texture, looped up wid coupons ob yal.
ler bombazine, wid a detniveil ob red pon
pens a' Enginy, wid a delicate twillo
cotnposed of green barouche, to match; al
togedder, her circumfrance was one ob de
most exquisite displays of gorgus splendar
on relcord. Anty Clawson was dar wid de
shoes I gab her, and looked fifty years
younger, but she looked mity ole for all
dat. Dere was also sebrel ladies oh great
passonal beauty, and do supper was one of
do most rechurch tins I hab ever witness;
and one ling I notice wid great satisfaction
dat dar was no mortitying inscripshuns ou
de wall to do effect, din gentlemen was re
quested to pocket 'lain, and siclt like.—
De ebenin entertainment conkluded wid a
speech from your respected pasture, which
was received with obstropolus aplaws.
Anybody hand round de sasser, 'cept de
feller dat did it last time, whoeber he was;
I'm afraid he's not poplar.
Ds. A late Illinois paper contains the
announcement of the marriage of 11. W.
Wolf to Mary L. Lamb. 'The wolf and
the lamb shall lie down together, and a lit
tle child shall lead them"—alter awhile.
PRIM 23; 1856.
tied PistellauL
Putnam as a Spy.
Among the officers of the revolutionary
army none probably possessed more origi
nality titan Gen. Putnam, who was eccen
tric and fearless, blunt in his manners, the
daring soldier, with the polish of a gen
tkman. He might well be called the Mar
ion of the North, though he disliked dis
guise, probably from the fact of his lisp
ing, which was very apt to overthrow any
trickery he might have in view.
At that time a stronghold called Horse
neck, some miles from New York; was in
the hands of the British. Putnam, with a
few sturdy patriots, was lurking in the vi
cinity bent on driving them from the place.
Tired of laying in ambush, the men be
came impatient, and importuned the gen
eral with a question as to when they
were going to have a bout with the foe.—
I One morning he made a speech some
' thing to the following effect, whirls con•
vinced them something was in the wind :
"Fellows, you have been idle too long,
and so have I. Fin going to Bush's at
Horseneck, in an hour, with an ox team
I nud a load of corn. If I come back I will
let you know the particulars; if I should
not let them have it by hokey."
Ile shortly afterwards mounted his ox
cart, dressed as use of the commonest or
der of Yankee farmers, and was at Bush's
tavern, which 'vas in poszession cf the
British troops. No sooner did the officers
espy him than they began to question him
as to his whereabouts and finding him a
complete simpleton, as they thought, they
began to quiz him, and threatened to seize
the corn and (odder.
"How much do you ask for your whole
concern r asked they.
"For mercy sake, gentlotnen," replied
the mock clodhopper, with the most deplo
rable look of entreaty, "only let me otTi
and you shall have my hull team and lend
for nothing ; and if that wont dew, I'll give,
you my word I'll return to-morrow, and
pay you heartily for your kindness and
condev a eon!'
Well," said they, "we'll take you at
your word. Leave us the team and pro
vender with us, and we won't require bail
fur your appearance."
Putnam gave up the team, and scam
pered about for an hour or so, gaining nil
he information lie wished. He then re
tuned to his men, and told them of the
foe , and his plan of attack.
The morning came, and with it sallied
out the gallant band. The British were
handed with rough hands; and when
they surrendered to Gen.„Putnam, thu
clod-hopper, he scarcastically remarked:
, Gentlemen, I have kept my word. I
told you I would call and pay you for your
kindness and condescension."
Nebuchednezzer Exhumed.
So his said !--It is stated that Colonel
Ilawlinson, who is at present engaged in
prosecuting the discoveries commenced
by Lnyurd and Botta and in exhuming
(rain the mounds of the long lost rival
ci ion of Ninnevab and Babylon, the in•
structive remains of his once gigantic
power, has lately discovered In a state of
preservation, what is believed to be the
mummy of Nebuchednozzar. The face
of a rebellious monarch of Babylon, cover
ed by one of those golden masks usually
found in Assyrian tombs, is described as
very handsome --the forehead high and
commanding, the features marked and reg
ular. This interesting relic of remote an
tiquity is for the present preserved in. the
museum in the East India Company.
Of all the mighty empires which have
left a lasting impression on the memory,
none has so completely perished as that of
Assyria. More than two thousand years
have gone by, since the two 'great cities,'
renowned for their strength, their luxury
and their magnificence, have crumbled in
to dust, leaving 110 visible trace of their
existence, there very sites being forgotten.
A chance traveler, Layard riding through
the Nlesopotainian valley, discovered the
hurried city, and with a success that will
invnortalize his name, has commenced to
unroll the book of Assyrian history and
civilization, which of all the histories of
the first period of the world, is most clear
ly connected with the subsequent destinies
of the human race. The discoveries al
ready made, furnish ample testimony to
refuse the sceptic and unbeliever of scrip.
Lure truth.
Ours.—Get in your Oat•crop as early
as practicable, and take our word for it
that a large crop of oats can only be grown
on a naturally fertile, well prepared soil,
or where the quality of the soil, when
not goad, is assisted by manure.
HONE! SWEET MOVIE !
That wide, open, friendly fireplace, with
rts lively, crackling mirth, or its sweet
twilight embers, always appears to me the
meet emblem of a contented, great heart,
answering back to your own joy, and ligh
ting up your shadows. And sometimes,
surrounded by strangers, the subject of
dull remark, or cold criticism, or ignorant
condemnation, how have I pictured to my
self a world of warmth like unto the great
fireplace at home, whe:o every man should
be greeted with, "Welcome welcome,
brother I" and a comfortable, snug corner
of his own; and where all answer to each
other with the sympathy and cheer of shi
ning faces over the glowing hearth. Look
kindly on the stronger, gentle friend, thy.
looks are either so many sweet, sunny
beams, that betoken the common fellow
ship of true humanity, or so many icy
rays that chill him to the heart—that free
zes little by little the fountains of love—that
fill him with distrust of the world and ha
tred of his species. No man knows for
how much of others' wickedness and
wretchedness he may he held accountable.
A look of thine may breed sorrow in thy
brother, though n stranger. A look of
thine may do a good deed, may shine from
I thy face to his face, and be reflected, like
a ray of the sun, over half the globe.
Live, ye gentle scenes of home ! Light
up, ye bright fires of the domestic hearth
Glow, ye pleasant fancies of a wood fire
Smile ever, ye dimpled portraits on the
wall of childhood ! Come in, ye sweet li
lac breezes that rustle through the cozy
curtains, the blossoms of youtkand the airy
old cobwebs of memory are shimmering
in your light ! Place may change, friends
I come and go, hearts grow cold or wear
away beneath the drops of care till they
crumble and moulder beneath the clod of
the valley, but a pleasant home, where
childhood lived and loved, never dies.—
The memory thereof is a fortune, an inde
structible faculty of seltrenewing joy.
What is heaven itself but the renewal of
the fresh hearts and delightful pleasures
of 'childhood's home 1 A happy child
loolts forward to a happy home above. The
hireling initiated but too early in guilt and
misery, or in misery without guilt, he sel
dom hopes for teller aicommodation at the
end ; and the shadow of his
journe
childhood descends before him to the grave
SUICIDE IN FULTON COUNTY.—Tho Ful
ton Republican states that Mr. Henry Ma
thins, residing in Taylor township in that
County, committed suicide, by hanging,
on last Sunday morning. The particulars
as far as we have been able to learn them,
aro as follows:—Mr. M. arose in the mor
ning apparently in as good spirits as usual
atended to his necessary duties about the
house, went to the barn and feed his stock,
after which he ascended the mow and at
tempted to hang himself with a line or
strap. The strap, it appears, broke with
his weight, when he returned to the house
procured a piece of new bed-cord, went to
the barn again and succeeded this thno in
putting an end to his life. The cause of
this rash act is not fully known, but from
language used in conversation to a neigh
bor some time previous, it is supposed to
have been committed under a depression
of spirits produced by his becoming slight.
involved by the erection of some improve
ments on his property. The dec'd was a
respectable farmer, about thirty-five years
of age, and leaves a wife and six children
to mourn his untimely end,
TRUE, EVERY WORD OF IT.-HOW dis
tinctly and prominently the letters H o a
'stick out' on some men's faces ; yen, all
over them—head, limbs, trunk, and heels!
Your Man Swine—whether in rags or in
broadcloth—is the most disagreeable thing
on the face Lithe earth. lle is so utterly
conceited and selfish that the thought that
the world was created for anybody or any
thing but himself, probably never entered
his head. Ile may be seen at all seasons
and at all places—in the street and in pub.
lie houses, and in social circles ; in thca.
tres, and in concert rooms; in churches (of
every denomination) and in lecture halls.
The Man Swine is Nlephistophelean ; and
whether ho assume the garb and manners
of a Moyatnensing Jakey, or those of a
Chestnut street dandy, he is a reproach to
manhood and an object of loathing and dis
gust to every ono with whom he comes to
contact. Snakes and toads were undoubt
edly created for some wise purpose ; and
so, wb suppose, was the Man Swine.
PLANTING CORN.—The early pitched
crop, in a majority of cases, succeeds best
and that if you desire a large crop; it is ab
solutely necessary that you manure the
ground liberally and prepare it thorough
ly.
VOL. XXI. NO. 17.
larmer's 6Diumn.
Potatoes—Butt Ends vs. Seed Ends.
John Brown, of Long Island, Commu
nicates the following to the Granite Far-
"Several years ago I made some exper
iments to satisfy mysetf concerning the
disputed point as to which is the best
portion of a potato to plant in order to ob
tain the largest and beat yield. The ex
act result has been lost, and as I have of
ten since heard and read assertions direct.
ly contrary to the conclusions which I
then deduced? I resolved to repeat the ex
per i men ts. Last spring I planted four
rows of equal length, side, by side, with
two varieties of potatoes. in one row I
planted none but the seed ends, so called,
ir.cluding about one-third of the potatoes
and in the next row 1 planted the butt end
of the same potatoes. I had one row of
butt ends of a variety called Peach Blows.
The yield of these four rows was as fol
lows.
Pitt; eyes, butt ends, 217 pounds.
" seed ends, 179
Peach blows, bon ends, 225
seed ends, 179 "
The potatoes raised from the but ends
were much larger than those from the seed
ends, and appeared to be from a week to
ten days earlier. This result corresponds
with that of my former experiment. Had
the whole held been planted with butt ends
the yield would have been more than 500
bushels to the acre. I had also planted
two rows next to the above, in one of
which I put only large potatoes, half a
tuber in each hill, out lengthwise so as to
divide the eyes equally, and in the other
row I put only small potatoes, one in each
hill.. From the former I dug IV, pounds
and from the latter 134 pounds. I should
add that the average yield of the field was
about 180 pounds to the row; and that
large (not the very largest) potatoes were
used for seed cut lengthwise with a half of
a tuber in each hill.
ANArt.V3I3 OF CROPII,--It would be well
for our fnrmers if they could analyze their
crops, and a'so the soils in which they are
produced. Few however, are competent
to this, and much, therefore, remains un
certain and unexplained. But as time ad
vances, and science difluses its light over
earth, these mysteries will gradually pass
away ; and the farmer will then discover
that when he gathers in the rich fruits of
his laborious industry in the fall, he col
lects together a portion of what was his
soil, at seed time. In his wheat he will
detect lime, flint, and a portion of clay.—
Ilis Indian crop, a crop in which he justly
glories, contains also the same materials,
though differently modified in combination'
and so domost of the grains he cultivates.
All vegetables must have a certain pod:Jor
don of mineral matter to perfect them, and
it is consequently important thnt he should
understand how he can best supply them
by animal manures, or mineral applica
tions where there is a deficiency of power
to supply them in the soil itself. Animal
manures contain these mineral ingredients
soluble state, and consequently in a condi
tion the snore perfectly adapted for imme
diate approbation. No particle of matter
can enter into, or be assimilated by the ye
gitable organism, until its texture has been
broken and modified by the solvent action
of water.
To DESTROY INSECTS ON PLANTS.--
The London Gardiner's Chronicle publish
ed the following description of a plan pur
sued by a correspondent for effectually
and easily destroying insects op low grow.
ing plants :
..fie has four slight wooden boxes, with•
out bottoms, about twenty inches deep,
made to fit just within the edging of
the divisions of his parterec, all the
divisions being precisely of the some size
and pattern, so as to admit of a box fitting
either one. Ile places a box upon each,
presses down the edge, and through a hole
in the end introduces a spout of his fumi
gator, and having filled one box he with
smoke, plugs up the hole and proceeds to
another. He uses dried snuff, with a
mixture of tobacco, and fills four boxes with
each charge of his fumigator. The smoke
being injected cool, he is able to remove
the box after four or five hours. taking care
to admit the air gradually; and he con
trives to smoke three times, or twelve di
visions in the twenty fours hours, without
causing the bloom to droop, as it would do
and does in fact, when he uses tobacco pa
per, or ignites within."
HUMAN atom--Titere are two things
which ought to teach us to thiuk but mean
ly of human glory—the very beet have
had their calumniators, the 'hay wont
their panegyrists.