in
thralingkat
i t
\ r
i
____
WM. BREWSTER, EDITOR & PROPRIETOR.
*elect god%
From Frank Leslie's Family Magazine,
"CASTLES IN THE AIR."
➢Y HENRY C, WATDOIr
Iu early youth what merry dreams
Were ever in my thought,
Of roseate tints, of golden hues,
From passing sunbeams caught
One time I was a noble knight,
With lauds all broad and fair,
And I was happy as a king
In "Castles built in Air I"
A poet once, I dreamed of fame,
Thet"worlds should read my thought;
A SJldier etriviug fora name,
In many a field well fouzht.
and oft I dreamed of one sweet face,
Which met me everywhere,
And fill'd with rapture and delight
Niy "Castles in the air f'
liv'd to see my castles fall,
My broad lands fade away;
The poet's guerdon aro:town,
The warrior's fame decoy I
And pass'd away that bright young Imp
For earth too purely fter
Before life's treat lith: vtaiiih'd 101
My "C 1161103 in the Air !"
"All Mankind are Barbera.,
'l'il prove to my friend, I hope,
That none a doubt can harbor,
But all tl:e wand's n bather shop,
And tna:..4 the barber.
Ann to wake thenti , lve3 louk nu'
And ,kone hem. '6; fanny;
Dot brokers shave yon in the streets,
And otily share for money.
501240 since their twehends slick and clis
If with low !wadi tliey're brothced,
But then 'tis 14111111 y to he seen
That they're. th
that'A !attired.
To court G girl will elQqa,,,co,
The dandy never Beta her,
that lathers her with conipliineut,,
The maidens, a
Who are so fetal ersporf Mg.
Soft•soap the shallow-minded men
. A nd shave 'em while they're court
1 tl,n
But men and girls who tuna will ii , ist
Of soripni while they tarried,
Will find at last, with hitter coat,
That linth get SIIAVED when tisitniEn
1)1111101'0115
HARP SERMON,
I),* beloved lirethering—l am an un
la rnt hard-shell Btpt.i,t preacher, of whom
you've no doubt beers before, and I now
appe,r here to expound the Scriptures and
pint out the narrow way which leads from
it vain world to the streets of the Jerusa•
lem, and my text, which I shall choose for
the occasion, in the leds of the Biblesome•
where Loween the 2.1 Chronicles and the
last chapter of Timothy 'I bus, and when
you find it you will hod in it there words;
'And they shall gnaw a file and flee un
the [mintains of tiepsldant, where the
lien roared) and the wangdOndlo mourn •th
for its first•born.'
Now, my brethering, as 1 have latfore
told you, l ant an uneddicated man, and
know within nbont Crammer talk and col.
lidge ; but I'm a plain unlarnt
preacher of the Gespil what's been fore.
ordained, and ca led to expound Scripters
to a dyin world, au prepar a reverse gen
oration fur rite day of wrath ; for they shall
gnaw a file and flee unto the mountains of
Hepsidarn, whar the Ito,, rortreth and the
wongdeodle mourneth for its first-born.'
Itly bt'mved brethruig, the text says
hey shall gnaw a file.' It don't say they
it.ity, but 'it says they shall. And now
there's more'n one kind of file. There's
the handsaw file, rattail file. double tile
end profile; but the kind of file spoken of
hero isn't one of them kind neither; be
cause it's a figger of speech, my brother
ing, atill it means going it alone, getting
.uttered; for 'tl.ey shat gnaw a file and
flee unto the mountains of Hepsidam.
whar the lion roareth and the, wangdondle
mourneth for ha first-horn.'
And now there be some here with fine
clothes on thar backs, brass rings on thar
fingers, and lard on thar har, what goes it
while thare young; and thar be brothers
here what, its long as thar constitutions and
forty cent whisky last, goes it blind ; and
thar be sisters what, when they get sixteen
years old cut their tiller ropes and goes it
with a matt ; but I my my dear brethring,
take care that you don't find when Gabriel
blows his last trump, that you've all went
it alone and got ukered; for 'they shall
gnaw a file and flee unto the mountains of
Ilepsidarn, whar the lion roareth and the
wangduodle mourneth for its first-born.'
And, my brethring, there's more dams
besides liepsidam, Amsterdam, mill-dam,
slid don't-core a dam—the lust of which,
my dear brethering, is the worst of all,
and reminds me of a circumstance I once
knew in the State of Illenoy. Thar was a
man what built a mill on the east aide of
Agur Creek, and it ground a site of grain,
but the men what bui.t it was a miserable
sinner, and never guv nothin to the church,
and, my brethering, there come e dreadful
storm of wind and rain, and the fountains
of the great deep was broken up end water
rushed down and swopt that man's mill
dim into kingdom come, and lo and behold
when he got up in the morning, he found
he was not worth a dam. Now, my young
brethering, when the storm of temptation
overtake ye, take care you don't fall from
grace and become like the man's mill, not
worth a darn, for they shall gnaw a file and
flee unto the mountains of llepsidain, whar
the lion roareth and rho wangdoodle mour
neth for its first-born.'
, Whar the lion roareth and the Wang
doodle mourned) fur its first horn.' I'his
part of the text, toy brethring, is another
figg ,r of speech. and isn't to be taken as it
soya. It don't mean the howling wilder
ness, whnr John the hard shell /3aptist was
fed on locusts and wild asses, but it means
my brethring, the city of New Orleans,
the mother of harlots—wear corn 13 worth
six hits a bushel one day and nary red the
next; whar niggers are as thick as block
bugs io spoiled bacon ham, and gamblers,
thieves and pickpockets go skitting about
the 'street like weasels in a barn-yard—
whar they have cream colored horses, gild
ed carriages, marble soloons with brandy,
and sugar in 'em ; whar honest men are
scarcer than hen's teeth ; and a strange
woman once tub in your beluverl preacher
and bamboozled• him out of two hundred
and twenty seven dollare in the twinkling
of a sheep's tail; but she can't do it again.
Hallelujah I for 'they shall gnaw a file end
flee unto the mountains of llepsidain whar
the lion roareth arid the wangdoodle mour
neth for its first born.'
My brethring, I am captain of that flat
beat you' s., tied up thar, and I've got
attend her flour, baron ad oats. and pota
toes and apples, and es good Monongahely
whislcy no you ever drank; and I'm migh•
ty apt to get a big price for it all. But,
what, oh, my brethring, would it all be
south if I hadn't relidgin ? 'Tar's nothin
like relidgin, my brethren.. It's better nor
silver and gold jiincracks, and you can no
more get to heaven without it than without
a tail. Thank the Lord I'm an uneddlca
ted titan, my br,thring, but Fire searched
the scripters front Dan to L'urahebee, and
found old Zion right side up, and hard
shdl relidgin is the best of all relidgin.
And it's not like the Methodists what ex
pects to git into heaven by hollerin hell fire
nor like the Universalists what gits upon
the broad gage and goes the whole hog;
nor tho United Ilrethring what takes each
other by the seats of their trowsers and
tries to lift theirselves into Heaven, nor the
entholicks what buys thru tickets from the
preests—but it may be likened, my breth
ring, unto is man what had to cross a river,
and when they got thar the ferry-boat had
gone. and he just rolled up Its breeches
and waded over—hallelujah, for they shall
gnaw a file and flee unto the mountains of
HepEidam, altar the lion roareth and the
wangiloodle mourneth for its first-born.'
Pass the hat brother Flint, and let every
hard shell shell out. Amen.
A Practical Joke.
Saturday morning last, two strangers
arrived in tlijs coy, determined to abide
here a few dues to see the "sights," and
among them Wheatland, the home of Mr.
Buchanan. Not knowing where it was
situated, they made inquiry, and were tn•
formed that it was about one mile out from
the city, on the Harrisburg turnpike,
which was found without touch difficulty.
After walking out that way for about two
mites; they made inquiry if this was the
Harrisburg pike, which was auswered in
the affirmative. On their journey, they
inquired of several persons who rill an
swered them that this was the Harris.
burg pike; at length they arrived at Lands
ville.about six miles from the city, when
confident that they had reached their des.
tination, they inquired which was the res
idence of the President; but what was
their chagrin to be informed that they
were about five stiles from it and were on
the wrong They walked the whole
distance buck again, without having ac
complished their object, and in return
breathing vengeance upon the head of
the jotter who sent them on a fruitless or.
rand.—Lunc. 7lnsea.
11.1rAlt, John, my uncle has been to
Now York and yourn haint.' 'Well, what
of tha,tmy uncle hns been to jail and yours
hain't.'
" LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND POREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. "
4UNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1857.
ciert j,l bccliany.
THE RIGHT KIND OF A WIFE.
A New Yorkeditor says he had an in-
troduction last week to the heroine of the
following sketch :
Mr. -, a merchant now residing
in Philadelphia, who formerly lived in
rather an extravagant style, was in the
habit every Monday morning of giving
his wife a certain sum of money for the
table and other household expenses of
the week he never mentioned his business
to his wife, and she deeming him capable
of attending to his own affairs never in
quired into them. About five years after
marriage through some alight mismanage
ment, and the rascality of his confidential
clerk, Mr. suddenly broke, and
his full was mentioned 'sympathizingly' on
change, and like all ouch matter, there all
sympathy ended. The merchant kept
the affair secret, and the first intimation
his lady had of it was a news par,igraph.
Shortly after dinner was over, on the dis
covery of the startling fact. Mrs. -
requested her husband to remain in the
parlor a few moments, as she said she had
something to say to him. She then left
the roots, hurried up stairs, and shortly
after returned with a splendidly bound
Bible in her hand. Handing it to her
husband, she said :
..George, the day after our marriage
you gave me this precious book as a token
of your love, and as a rich fountain to
look to in the day of trouble. its pages
have been precious to me; and as your
brow looks sad to-day, I now return it to
you, that you may glean from it some
consolation in the hour of gloom.' She
then left the room.
The merchant opened the book care
lessly, and a bank bill fell out. He pick
ed it up and glanced at its face; it was
810.-I.le opened the book again, and a•
!other note of the Caine amount fell be
fore him. He opened it at the first page,
and continued to find an X bet ween every
two leaves till he arrived at the com
mencement of the book of Revelations.
He was saved, could commence business,
and had a capital of nine thousand dol
lars.
lie rang the Le 11; a servant appeared
'Request your mistress to come to me
immediately.' said the merchant.
The lady obeyed, entering the room
with something between ti tear and a
smile.
'Kate ! Kato ! where did you procure
all this money V .
'This is the weekly savings of our
household expenses for the last five years,'
was the modest reply. 'Every week I
put ten out of the twenty dollars which
you gave me into our Bible bank, that
when a day of trouble came upon us, we
should have something to save us from
the wolf.'
'But why put it in the Bible, Kate ?'
,Ilecuuse it is a good bunk, one which
will not suddenly break,' replied the la
dy.
'You are an angel, Kate,' cried the de
lighted husband, clasping her to his heart.
. And so site is. Does anybody doubt it?
LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AGES
Rude were the manners then; a man
and his wife eat off the same trencher; a
few wooden handled knives, with blades
of rugged iron, were a luxury for the.
great— candles were unknown. A ser
vant girl held a torch at supper; one or
two mugs of coarse earthenware formed
all the drinking apparatus in the house.
Rich gentlemen wore clothes of unlined
leather.—Ordinary persons scarcely even
touched flesh meat. The nobility drank
little or no wine in the summer. a little
corn seemed wealth Women had trivial
marriage portions; even rich women drew
sed extremely plain. The chief part of
the family's were what the males spent
in arms and horses, none of Much how.
ever, were very good or very showy; and
grandeers had to lay money on their lofty
towers. In Dante's comparatively pol.
fished times, ladies began to paint their
cheeks by way of finery, going to the thea
tre, and to use less assuidity in spinning
and playing distaff. What is only a symp
tom of prosperity in large, is the sure
sign of ruin in the small States. Su in
Florence we might very well deplore
what in London or Paris would be piaised
or cause a smile. Wretchedly, indeed,
plebians hoveled; and if noble castles were
cold and dreary everywhere. they were
infinitely worse in Italy, from the horrible
modes and torture and characteristic cru
elty too frightful to dwell on. Few of the
infamous structures but at the time treated
of stand, at present, yet their ruins disclose
rueful cornet,
STUCK VP-FOLKS,
don't like these people—they are so
dreadfully stuck up,' was the remark we
overheard the other day. What are 'stuck
up people ? thought we, and we looked a
round to see if we could find any.
Do you see that man over yonder, lean
ing up to that hotel piazza, twirling a
shadow walking cane, now and then coax
ing the liar on the upper lip, and watch
ing every lady that passes, not that he
cares to see them, but is anxious to know
whether they observe him t—he belongs
to the stuck up folks. What is the oc
casion t Well, he happens to have a rich
father, and a foolish and vain mother, who
taught him that he isn't.common folks' at
all, and that poverty is almost the seine as
vulgarity; and so he has become stuck up
Ho doesn't take the-pains to learn any
thing, for he doesn't fall the need of know
ing any more. He does not work, for he
is never required to, and be is so exten•
sively stuck up that he hasn't the least idea
that he will ever come down. He doesnt'
know, however.
['hero goes a young woman—lady, she
calls herself--with the most conde,cend
ing air to no one in particular and an all.
pervading consciousness that ..weation and
all the rest of mankind' are looking at and
admiring her. She has never earned the
salt she eats; knows a little, a very little—
of a good many things and nothing thor
oughly of nny thing; is most anxious lest
she should be troubled to make a selec
tion out of fifty young menoll of whom
are dying for her, she supposes. She is
one of the stuck up folks and that is a
bout all she is. .
The oldish gentleman over the way,
barricaded with about a Ard of shirt cal•
lar, guarded with a gold headed can,,
with u pompous air—do you see him 1
Well, he is only of those stuck up, too
He has been so about ten years, since hu
got off his leather apron and began to spec
uhaw successfully in real esjfte.
There are ether folks of Nis class, some
stuck up by having at some lime been con
stable, a justice of the pence, an alderman
and in various other ways they got stuck
up notions, They are not proud people,
for they do not rise to the digni' y of pride;
they are riot distinguished folks, for they
have not abili'y or character enough to
make theta so. They are just what they
appear to le—stuck up. Let them stick !
THE LADY WHO WEARS NO HOOPS'
We saw her on the street. She was of
tnediuin height, with large, black, brit
hunt eyes, end an intellectual face. Her
garments were plain, but neat and tidy,
and she wore no hoops.
This lady had a large bundle on her
arm. It was work * , "slop work," con
taining malty thousand stitches, all made
with her own fingers. The load was hea
vy, and bore hard on her delicate frame.
But she walked fast and slid easily thro'
the crowd, for she wore no hoops.
We glanced at the hand which grasped
so tightly the bundle which she carried.
It was delicate, yet browned by exposure
and labor. No silken glove . protected it
from the rays of Ole sun, and though al
most faultless in shape, it presented evi•
deuce of bard usage in the world. Yet
it was a hand that would have looked love
ly on a fashionable skirt, but that it will
Hever do, for this lady area's no hoops.
We watched her carriage. Despite her
burthern, it was graceful. 11cr step was
regular and elastic, her head erect, and
her tread soft. There, thought we, is
natural grace, though the lady wears no
hoops.
But is she a lady t Aye, and a true
one. Fellow her, with that bundle, to her
employer's store, and listen to the lan•
gunge of a lady, as it falls sweetly from
her lips. Sea with what a grace she re
ceives her pittance for her labor, and hove
smiling and happy, she returns to her
home, and you will declare her a lady, if
ehe does not wear hoops.
Follow to her home. Observe the
cleanliness of the apartments, and the
neatness which pervades her household.
See her, as she pats her little and orphan
ed ones on the cheek, and gravely and
sincerely thanks God that she is favored
with health sufficient to enable her to la
bor for their support. and you must ac-
knowledge that she is a lady, n true lady
even if she does not wear hoops.
She is a lady, a true lady, because she
deitotes herself to her woman's mission.
Her children's welfare, her children's
happiness, he nearest her heart, though
condemned to adversity. She pursues
her way cheerfully, though sadly it may
oftentimes be. She prefers to bestow all
the attractions heaven and education have
'given her to her home, humble ns it may
1
)461,f
V-1
I 1-\
be, and has neither time nor attention to
bestow upon such frivolities as hoops.
Those who choose mny judge a gentleman
by the cut of his cloth, and a lady by the
immensity of her crinoline, but we con
tend thnt there are many ladies, true In
dies, who do not wear hoops.—Nashville
Gazelle.
An End to Zissing.
A short time stare the a ffectionate pub
lic was astonished by the story of a youn g
lady whose neck was dislocated in conse
quence of the ill advised resistance which
she offered to. the amicable salute of an
admirer more ardent than discreet. Our
last exchanges from Europe now match
this tale with another of an inquest held
at Leeds on the body of a young man of
21, who fell down stairs and killed himselr
in course of on attempt to snatch a kid§
from the unwilling lips of a girl of filmes.
Some of our cotemporaries deduced the
first of these occurrences the wholesome
moral that young Indies should never op
pose the advance of their admirers. In
common fairness we are now boa id to in
fer from the second accident that no man
should ever attempt to take a kiss until it
is offered to him. Between the two les
sons there is reason to fear that an ancient
nod not altogether disagreeable custom
stay be summarily abolished.
A Wall Street Scene•
The other nay a Jerseyman was obser
ved standing in Wall street gazing very
earnestly at one of those hairless Chinese
canines which are so much admired by
dog connoisseurs. Nat. Jersey was a
rampant crowd of brokers. Jersey look
ed at them and then at the 'dorg.'
'1 say, mister,' said he, speaking to'a
gorgeously robed !lull, whose hands were
filled with 'stock lists,' 'I say, does that
dog belong to you ?'
Bull noded. distantly.
'Yeas—well, I thort so—blast me ! el I
didn't.'
N 6.. ~..J. .. Ih:..L .L.
, J.... • I.
longed to me ?'
, Well, I wasn't so ndzackly sure he be
longed to you, but 3 was certin the Borg
had dealing with you or some of your
friends.'
'Why so ?' said Bull, getting excited.
.rause he's so darnedly closed shaved
—there ain't a bar on lin!
Mgr The clock struck ten; I seized
my hat and bade gaol night to rill, except
the lass T courted; she came with no
through the hall; she stood within tle.
portal, and I gazed upon her charms, and
oh ! I longed that moment to clasp her in
my arms. She spoke about the moon and
stars—how clear and bright they shone;
I said I thought the crops would fail un
less we had rain soon. Then I edged a
little clo , ier, put my arms around her
waist, and gazed upon those rosy lips I
longed so much to taste, Said 1, my dear
est iusy, I'll never rest contented, if I
leave to night without a kiss I'll surely
grow .demented. Then up she turned
her rosy mouth, and everything was han
dy; quick from her lips I seized a kiss,
oh, Yankee Doodle Dandy ! Then off
for home I started, I could no longer stay;
with a light heart and breeches thin, I
whistled all the way.—Hence learn this
truth, ye bashful youth, who seek for wed
ded bliss, no lass will love until you move
her feelings with a kiss.
How to Punish the Wolf
lu the village of Consaucey, in the Jo
en, a wolf was caught in a snare, which
caused a deal of excitement and same joy.
The wolf, after being led through the vil
lage, was brought ton solemn conclave be.
fore the church, when the people discussed
the best mode of punishment. As a mat.
ter of course they disagreed.
'Let us hang him by the paws!'
'Let us drown him !'
, Let us bent him to death l'
.Let us burn hint alive l'
•:No,' said a peasant, who was very nu•
happy in his domestic relations, •iet us
marry him !'
•Oet out of the way, old Dan, Tucker
You're too late to come to supper.' .
This popular song has been changed,
in the course of advancing rel.nement, so
as to read—. Will the ventrable Daniel
Tucker, Esq., have the goodness to with
draw for a few minutes, as in consequence
of his late arrival, it will be impossible fc4
him to take his evening refreshments ut
the.first table.'
ATTACHMENT TO Violas/B.—The vio
lins. it is well-known. is one of the roost
diliicultinstruinents to finger. A initeM
has been granted to Jackson Gorham, of
iiairdstowmGa , tor a device consisting of
four htigers, which press the string on to
the finger board in any desired place;
so that ordinary performers will be able to
execute music in any key, fingering only
in those keys on which the great mass of
perfotiners play, via., the keys of one,
two and three !herr,
Omer Nifs.
Eir The following letter was sent by
a lather to his eon at college:
"My Dear Son : I write to send you two
pairs of my old breeches, that you may
have a new coat !nude out of them. Also
some socks that your mother has just knit
by cutting down same of mine. Your
mother sends you ten dollars without my
knowledge, and for fear you may not use
it wisely, I have kept back half and only
sent you five. Your mother and I are all
well, except that your sister has got the
meas'es, which we think would spread
among the other girls if Torn had not had
them before, and he's the only one lift. I
hope you will do honor to my teachings ; if
net; then you are an ass, and your mother
and myself your 4flectionatu parents."
A RECONCILIATION.—At a social party
in Cincinnati, recently, n young lawyer ob•
served a young lady approaching, whom
he had the misfortune to offend. fie ex:et:-
de:l his hand and exclaimed :
'Good evening, Mary.'
'Miss Mary, if you pleaso,' said th
young lady, brindling up at his familiarity
'We can miss you, Mary, only when
you are absent.' and they w re soon recon
ciled. It is said that she will soon bd miss
ed no more
Atir The following is a report made
oy one of our local reporters—
.llVe had scarcely reached the scene
when the lurid heavens grew into one
I,tond, concave sheet of everlasting reful
gonce, The furnace like intenseness of
the flame flung fierce and far the hot, de.
stroymg rays, and in spite of the super
human exertions of the firemen, the whole
was reduced to ruin. lAsa not worth men
tioning.
A TENDER REPROOF.—A very little buy
, had one day done wrong, and was sent,
after parental correction. to 90.-
t he forgiveness of his 11-uvenly Father.
His silence had been passion. Anxions to
hear what he would say, his mother fol
lowed hits to the door of his roust. In lisp
, ing ocbents she heard him oak to be made
better, never to be angry again; and then,
with childlike simplicity, he added, t'Lord,
woke mars . temper briar No."
CerA young man of our acquaintance
undertook to commit suicide last Friday,
by shooting • his davterreotype. He wins
unsuccessful however. This is the third
attempt he has made on his life within the
his three mouths. Cause—broken sleep
brought on by intense devotion to a piece
of calico with ringlets attached.
Cos —Why is the letter U the gayt,t
in the alphabet ?' • Because it is always in
fun.
Why is U the most unfortunate letter M
the alphabet ?.
Because it's always in trouble and lid'.
culiv.
gib—Francis l'igg, of Indiana, has run
array from M.e. Pigg and four little Pigge.
The Post says he is n flog.
r" A Kentucky girl, who married a
fellow of mean reputation, was taken to
task for it by her uncle,
I know, uncle,' she replied, 'that Joe
is not good for much ; but he said I dare
not have him, and I. won't take a stump
from anybody.'
air' Mr. Shrubbs, on being introduced
to k's Jenkins, took occasion to say that
she favored a sister of his very much.
'ln what particular,' rejoined the lady.
'Why,' replied the wag, 'you are afa
ma! e !'
icy' A gentleman advertises for a "block
Gather CARPET bag !"
This is almost as correct as a reoent ad
vertisement of the contents of a lost trunk
among which were said to be a “bluegen
fleman's cloth coat."
dear, come in and go !o bed,
said the wife of a jolly eon of Erin, who
had just returned from the fair in a deci
dedly 'how come•you.so state, 'You must
be dreadful tired, sum with your long
walk of six miles.'
Arrah ! get away with your noneense,'
said Pat; 'it wattle' the length of the walk
at all that fatigued me--'twas the breadth
of it,'
'Jack,' said a man to a lad just entering
his teeos, 'your father is drowned.'
.11arn it,' replied the young hopeful, he•
has got my knife in his pocket."
gar A young lady ou being told that
her most favored lover was killed, exclai
med ;
'Oh I that splendid gold watch of his—
give me somethin iv romeinhyr him by r
VOL. XXIL NO. 51.
larntcrds' G.'Dfuntn.
(h that by the plough would thrive,
Himself, most either hold or drive."
This is the season for buckwheat cakes,
and good ones are made as follows ; Dis•
solve n piece of fresh "baker's sponge" in
milk worm water. Then put in a seen
one part flour to three parts buckwheat,
which must be sifted into a pan, and set,
or mixed •.vtth the dissolved "sponge."
When the mixture is perfectly light, pour
in a little melted butter, add salt, then a
yeast powder, or a little soda and acid, all
well stirred in, then bake immediately.
Trees in being transplanted, to do well,
must be taken up with care, with all the
roots possible. These should not be 'ex
posed to the sun, wind or frost. The
ground in which they are to be planted
Should be deeply ploughed—large holes
dug to receive the trees, which must not
bo planted quite as deep us they are in the
nur,ery, as the ground will afterward., set
tle. No grain crop should be cultivated
around them—but runt crops are most
suitable, as the hoeing of them will aid in
keeping the ground mellow about the
trees.
Lice on Young Cot& —Look closely
into the coats rf young cattle now, and
Is not any vermin live on their necks and
hicks. It is an easy :natter to kill these
lice, and as all lousy cattle come out poor
in the spring, let's barbarous to let such
small mites as lice have their own way
through the winter.
Farmers find out in the spring that theft'
calves are poor and lousy, and the:, make
n stir for a remedy.
Any greasy matter, well rubbed in, will
kill these lice. Ashes sifted on their backs
will do it. Yellow snuff costs but little,
and is better than the juice of tobacco. Fine
sand sifted on them will drive off lice ; the
only objection to sand is that it causekan
trl U cnttte in Inn gpTlTig.
To Sweebn Ram Butter.—An agri
culturalist, near Brussles has discovered
that butter so rancid as to be past use can be
restored so as to have all the sweetness of
fresh butter. This operation is extremely
simple end practicable for all. It consists
Keating the butter in a sufficient quan
tity of water, into which had been mixed
23 to 30 drops of choloride of limo to two
pounds of butter. After having brought
all its parts to contact with the water, it
maybe left for an hour or two; afterwards
withdrawn and washed anew in fresh wa
nt.
The History and Habits of the rlrmy
...—A friepd who has made entomol
m;y n subject or study, furnishes. us with
some of the 'results of his investigations
into the character, habits and history of
the army worm, of which no many tom
plaints have arisen in various parts of
the country. The oat-patch west of the
Smithsonian grounds supplied him with
specimens and nn opportunity to observe
much concerning these devouring pests.
Our friend's first impression, and which
indeed he retains, was that the worm in
question is identical with the grass worm
of the South. Present appearances all
attest this indentity, but it will require the
complete round of transformation to be
.tote through with before it can be consid
ered certain. This worm destroys corn,
clever, grain, and every kind of grass,
and weeds between the rows of cotton.—
Its caterpillar, just before changing into
the chrysalis, hides under atones, and
where the ground is broken, under clods
of dirt Their enemies are formidable,
the largest being the toad, which sniffs
itself with them almost to bursting. The
stomach of a toad, taken in the ont.patch
shove referred. to, having been cut open
was found filled with these worms, mixed
,situ a few wing of beetles. The army
worm has another enemy in the black lar
va of what seems to be a necrophorns,
which preys upon the caterpillar. Be
sides those there is a small ichneumon, or
at all events a parasitical fly, wuich depos
its its eggs all over the back of the cater
pillar, and they, when matured, spin coc
oons which send forth a cloud of other
flies to repeat the process. Specimens of
the army worm sent thither from Maryland
were entirely destroyed by a fly much like
the common house fly, but with a lighter
colored series of rings around the abdo
men, which is hirsute and tipped with
brown, belonging to the family of musoidoe.
It is a merciful provision of nature, that,
as these worms increase so do the parasiti
cal foes which feed upon and destroy
them. But for this the consequences
would be terrible indeed to all the hopes
of the agricAltutalist.—National
Iniellf
genrer.
FG'o on