Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, December 30, 1857, Image 1
tturinigtion WM. BREWSTER, EDITOR & PROPRIETOR. (Original o For the Journal. was OP THE DEATH OP DOLLY. Dear little Dully is me mote, She sleeps in you churchyard, But her spirit is goue upon high, Where sorrow is elm heard. Ike wos a sweat and lovely lamb, rleever God did give) But oh I how soon that mighty hand Did take whet'. once he gave. She was a tittorod t'hild among The other children dear ; fier time was come when she must go, And stay no longer here. Weep not, dear mother, for she is gone To that bright laud oa high, Where you with her will reign sometime way beyond the sky. And to you, WI dearest father, You loved it fondly too, But weep not at its departure, You duce what you could do. If we could view the angelic throng, 1u yon wcrld above, We'd see her tune her golden harp, To sing redeeming love. Theo, ptruts dry up :ears, Tour toss is her groat gain; the:, pmrurn to her, Where mints ahaii ever reign. U. A. BRAT, *tied tottq. air lu the midst of the general pre. the following aeueouable litiee--“Never l'ail,"—ura worth a careful reading: IsikVlat SAY FAIL, oi:ste Thuti sitting aside, :Ind dreaming and highigg, „tad wultitig the tilt In life's' earnest bottle They only prevail Why de:ly march onward, nqvur say "iuil. A tougusi that not dutni., Anti it heart that will neva To own. , aII.ULIIII I Tuteil buttie mud cuuquer, thuusatold won and how mighty utter buy "Gail ie.Lch3, t;:ou, ke.? cd e;bow your wuy, 1:11110edillg o'3 en vito., All 84301 t:lat ora•: All obatacks A!! eueluiez I. the midst of their wisdo:u. to never egy 'a life . ° rosy mon:: g, In nionimnstl's tuir pride, ,t this by your mouu Yoar foot:di:1,o to guide otorta and is W hi% te VC f ilBdl We'll unNyarp and conquer, And never say "fail." erect *tory. SMILE FOR HOME. BY T. I, ARTHUR. 'fake that home with you, dear,' said Mrs Lewis, her manner half smiling, hull seriouq, "Take what houte. Caddy ?" And Nlr. Lewis turned towards his wife. curiously. Now. Mrs. Lew's had spoken from the ra..trsent's impulse, and already ,artly re• 6:otted her remark. "rake what hone?" repeated her bus- Dana. 6 .1 don't understand you." sTtutt smiling face you turned upon 3lr. Edwards, when you answered his question just now." Mr. Lewis slightly averted his head, tt td wsll,cl on in silence. They had cal led in at the store of Mr. Edwards to pur chase a few articles, and were now on their way home. There was no smile on the •face of Mr. Lewis now, but a very grave ex,.ression instead—grave almost to stern • nese. 'I he words of his wile hod taaen him altogether by surprise; and. though spoken tightly. had jarred upon his earl.. The truth was, Mr. Lewis. like a great many other men who have their own busi ness cares and troubles, was in the habit of bringing home a sober. and. ton often, a clouded face. It was in vain that his wife and &ultimo looked into that face for sun shine or listened to his words for tones of Cheerfulness. "Take that home with you, dear." Mrs Lewis was already repenting this sugges tion. made on the moment's impulse. Her husband Mlr sensitive to a, fault. He could no! beer even an implied mutat from his wife. And so she hod learned to be very guarded in this particular. "'Take that home with you, dear ! Ah me ! I wish the words had not been said. There will be darker clouds now, and gra. cioua knows. they were dark enough be fore I Why can't Mr Lewis leave his cares and business behini him. and let ussee the old, pleasant, smiling face again I thought this morning that he had for gotten bow to smile ; but I see that he eon smile, if he tries. Ah ! Why don't he try at home T" So Mrs Lewis talked to herself. as she moved along b) the side of her husband, who had not spoken a word since her re. ply to his query, 'rake what home 1" Block after block was passed, and street nfter street crossed, and still there was si lence between therm "Of course." said Mrs. Lewis, speak.' ing in her own thoughts. "Of course he is offended. He won't bear a word from me. I might have known, beforehand, that talking out in this way would only make things worse. Oh, dear I Pin get ting nut of all heurt !" "Whet then, Caddy ?" Mrs Lewis almost started at the sound of her hushend's voice, breaking. unexpec tedly. upon her ear, in a softened tone. "What then 1" he repeated, turning I. wards her, and looking down into her alt ly upturned taco% "It would send warmth and radiance through the whole house," said Mrs Leon. is, her tones all a treinble with feeling. -You think so I" sure' i "I know so ! Only try it, dear, for this riay one eyeaing." i•it isn't so easy a thing to put on a smiling face. Caddy, when though , . in op pressed with care." , 'lt didn't seem to require much effort just-now." said Mrs. Lewis. glancing up at her husband with something of arch neaa in her look Again a shadow dropped doNn upon the face of Mr. Lewis, which was again partly turned away; and again they wal ked ou in si;ence. qiti is no sensitive f" Mrs. Lewis said to herself. the shadow on her kpsband's face darkening over her own ‘ , l have to be us careful of my words as if to king to in spoiled child " No, it did not require touch effort on the port of Mr. Lewis to smile. as he pas sed a few words, lightly, with Mr. Ed wards. The remark of his wife had n ot really displeased him; it had only set hint to thinking. After remaining gravely si lent, because he was undergoing a brief self•examination, Mr. Lewis said— " You thought the smile given to Mr. Edwards come easily enough ?" ..It did not seem to requite an effort," replied Mrs. Lewis, ' , No, not much effort war required," :cud Mr. Lewis. His tones were slightly depressed." ~B ut this must be taken into the ac• count; my mind was in a certain state of excitement, or activity. that repressed so bor feelings, and undo smiling an easy thing. So we smile and ore gay in com pany, at cost of little effort, because all are eno ling and gay, and we feel the common sphere of excitement. Ilow different it often is when we are alone I need not say. You, Caddy, are guilty of the unbar face at home as well as. your husband." Mr. Lewis spoke with a tender reproof in his voice. "But the sober face is caught. from yours oftener than you imagine, my hus- ' band," replied Mrs.. Lewis. 'Are you certain of that. Caddy t" Very certain. You make the sunlight and the shadow of your home. Smile up on us; give us cheerful words; enter into our feelings and int.'s rests, and there will be no brighter home in all the land. A shadow on your countenance is a veil for my heart; and the seine is true as respects our children. Our pulses strike too near. ly in union not to bed isturbed when yours has lost its even beat.” Again 11r. Lewis tvalked on in silence his lace partly averted; and again hut wife begun to fear that she had e piton too free ly. But he soon dispelled this impression for he said— "I am glad, Caddy, that you have spo ken thus; plainly. I only wish that yon hod don. no before. I see how it is. My smiles Lave been for the outside world— the world that neither loved nor regarded tne 7 -and toy clouded brow Lee the dear ones at home. for whom thought and care are ever living activities." Mr, end Mrs. Lewis were now at their own door, where they paused a moment, and then went in. Instantly, on pasting his thrinhold, Mr, Lewis felt the prefigure upon bin of his usual state- The hue of his failings bow to change. The cheer- . 6 LIBERTY AND UNION. NOW AND vogavas, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. " HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30. 1857. ful, interested exterior put on for those he. met in business intercourse, began rapialy to change, and a sober hue to suocet.d. Like most business men, his desire for profitable results was even far in advance of the slow evolutions of trade; and his dai ly history was a history of disappointments l in some measure dependant upon his rest less anticipations. He was not as willing to work and to wait as he should be,' and, like many of bis class, neglected the pearls that lay here and there along his life paths, because they were inferior in val. tie to those he hoped to find just a little way in advance. The consequence was that, when the day's business excitement was over, his mind fell into a brooding' state, and lingered :ver its disappoint ments, or looked forward with failing hope to the future—for hope, in many things, had been long deferred. And so lie rare ly had smiles for his home. "Take that hone with you, dear," whis pered Mrs Lewis, as they moved along the passage, and before they had joined the family. She had art instinctive cor.- sciousness that her husband was in dun ger of relapsing into his usual state.. The warning wasjust in time. "Thank you for the words l'' said he. "1 will not forget them." And he did not; but at once rallied him self, arid to the glad surprise of Jenny, Will, sod Mary, met them with a new face, covered with fatherly smile., and with pleasant questions. in pleasant tones, of their day:,. employments. Th,, feel ings of children move in quick trans!- ' dons. The) had not expected a greet ng like this; but the response was' instant Little Jenny climbed into her father's arms. Will came and stood by his chair. answering in lively tones his questions, white Mary, older by a few years than the rest, leaned against her father's shoulder, and kid her white hand softly upon his head, smoothing hick the dark hair, just showing a little frost, fioin his broad, man ly temples. A pleasant group was this for the eyes of Nit's. Lewis, as she came forth from her chamber to the sitting room, where she had gone to lay off her bonnet and shawl and change her dress. Well did her hus band understand the meaning look she gave him; and warmly did her heart re• vend to the smile he threw back upon her ..Words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in pictures of silver," said Mr. Lew is, speaking to her as she came in. ~ ‘l, hut do you mean by that ?" asked Mare, looking curiously into her father's “Mother understands,” replied Mr. Lewis. smiling tenderly upon his wife eSornethinz pleasant must have hap pened,, said Mary. •.Something pleasant ? Why do you say that ?" asked'Mr Lewis. "You and mother look so happy," re plied the child "And we have cause to be hnopy," an. swered the father. as he drew his arm tightly around her, "in baying three such good children." Mary laid her cheek to his, and w his pered: "11 you are smiling and happy, dear father ! home will be like heaven." Mr. Lewis kilsed her; but did not reply He felt a rebuke in her words, But the rebuke did not throw a chill over his feel ings; it only gave a'new strength to his purposes. "Don't distribute all your sm les. Keep a few of the warmest and brightest for horns," said Mrs. Lewis, as she parted with her husband on the next morning. He kissed her, but did not promise. The smiles were kept. however, and evening sow them; though hot for the outside world Other, and many 'wettings saw the same cheerful smiles, and the same [nippy home And was not Mr. Lewis a better and happier man ? 01 course he was. And so would all men be, if they would take home with them the smiling aspect they so often exhibit, ns they meet their fellow men in business intercourse. or ex. change words in passing compliments. Take your smiles and cheerful words home with you. husbands, fathers, and brothers. Your hearths are cold and dark without them * Pedagogue—. We 11, sir, what does h a•i•r spell 1 Boy—. Don't know.' Pedagague—.What have you got on your head.' Boy—.l guess its a 'skeeter bite, it itch es like thunder.' D' A man was walki ig quietly along the other day. when he was suddenly stuck by a thought, ana knocked into the gutter- *tied Visttlianti. A New Bedfdrd Joke. A beautiful young lady, from another port of :%lassachusetie, was making a visit at a friend's in the pretty town of New Bedford. famous then as now for whalers, rich mercha , os. spermaceti 'candles. and wi ter strained oil. One day this delight fu I visitor was delighting one of these dea lets in tnese articles by allowing him to show her all over his well-stocked eatab lishment, and by taking a very deep int-r est in all that she saw there. She was particularly pleased with the picturesque style in which the clear, white, polished candles were packed in their boxes. In a tone of raillery, the young mer chant said to his visitor : 'Take one of the boxes you admire so much home with you.' 'Are you in earnest ?' asked the lair belle. .0f course,' was the reply; •if you will take one of them. home with your own hands, you shall have it,' 'That's a bargain.' said she ; call i n half an hour fir my candles ' box she had selected weighed some fifty pounds. Punctually at the time appointed, and at idday, whoa everybody wam astir in the easant town of New Bedford, the young tr=desnian was told by the clerk that there was a young lady at the door waiting to take hoots the candles ahe had selected. is in a carriage, as a matter of course,' said he •No, sir,' was the reply, 'she is walking and alone.' He went down to the front dour of his estallishment, and there stood his fair cus. tomer, with one of those straw carriages that nurses take babies to ride in 'Come,' twid she, 'hurry up my candles.' , The merchant saw he was caught in a trap of his own setting ; so he_put the best face on the matter, and ordered the fifty pound of number one spermaceti to be di, livered to the lady. who having tucked up the box carefully with cov l obla and blan kets. as it it were a baby she was treating to an afternoon airing, drew it triumphant ly th•nugh the streets to the house where Nhe wa+ staying, not one of the numerous acquaintances shs met on the way hiving the remotest idea that her burden was any thing but her hostess' baby. 'What a pretty thing it was,' said one of them, in Miss -to take Mrs. baby out to ride to day.' But the true story soon got out, and the laugh was decidedly against the gentleman who dealt in spermaceti. ENLIcIION AND DEATH• The following is it beautiful extinct from Mr Webster's splendid argument in the case of Girard's will ; "When an intellectual being finds him• self on this earth, as soon as the faculties of reason operate, one of the first ?equines of his mind is, .'Shoff I he here always ? Shall Ibe here server r And those wri. tern who hove been eel. prated for their es says on the dignity of human reason, say that, of all sentient beings, man is only is competent of knowing that he is to die. His Maker has made man only able to come to the knowledge of the fact Be fore he knows his origin and destiny, he knows that he is to die. Then conies that most urgent and solemn demand for light that ever entered the mind of man, which is set forth in that most incomparable cons. position, the Book of Job, "For there is hope of a tree, if it lie cut down, that it will sprout spin, and the tender branch thereof bud and bring torch boughs like a plant. But if man die, shall he live again " And that question nothing but God can solve. Religion does solve it and teaches every man that the duties of this life have reference to the life which is to tonne; that moral conduct founded on this great reli gious truth, is the end and the oh act of his destiny. And hence since the introduction of Christianity, it has been the effort of the great and the good. to sanctify human . knowledge ; to bring it, as it were, to the • baptismal font ;to baptise letters with the sacred influence of the Christian religion ; to bring; all, the early and the late. to the same sacred source, and sanctify them for the use and blessings of the human race," j' A Frenchman who had deposited a sum of money for safe keeping, with • friend, hearing the latter wan about to lull, calling upon the man said ; 'Bare, I want my monies 'Certainly, sir.' replied the other. draw ing um hie book, when the Frenchman maid— Stop. me; you got de monie V 'Why, of course V said his friend, will give you a check for iminedtately.' 'No, no,' said the Frencoman, 'if you have got de monie 1 uo want hint, but if you no got hint dap, I wino Don't be a Bachelor. Young man, don't live a crusty bachelor it is not gond for you. It will neither im prove your morn's, health, nor your beau ty. Marry as soon as you can make it convenient. and can shape your afinirs to support a wife But when you marry, don't fall in love with a face itruend of a woman. Remember that common sense is a rare virtue, much better than silver, gold in plenty ; but look for sound prueti• cal sense in woman first ;—that is the touch stone to try her o' her qualities by. When you have all that, all else comes. Your wife, that is to be, if she's lull of common sense, will grow to your way of thinking and make you grow to hers. A woman who has womanly love in her heart. will find ways to make your love towards her grow as the years go over you both. And another thing needs to be heeded, and that is—a common sense wo man is not to be found where fashion insists upon dragging young females intoa whirl, where is simply id'e gossip and but little brin Young min! don't stand looking after that young woman who has the di.tin goished air. the reputation of n flirt and a belle. whose filth, hip, hoops of cash for it is not impossible that while you are vtrnining your eyes, you may he turning your hack upon some unobtrusive little I. damsel whom nature has cut as your other half. and who may just that pleasant fnced placid tempered. lovable litt!e creature who think enough of you in go with you to the end of the world, and stay by and comfort you when you get gray-hair ed and fidgety. Marry young gentlemen and keep your selves out of scrapes. Hove something 'o live for A man aloe in the world isn't more than half a man. and the world . wants entire men. So mend yourself. and he happy. And you shall have rea son to •oy ii was a good thing you resnl ved to mnrry, and refused to he a solitary. beer-drinks. pipc-amokins bachelor, if you 6urcertl as well in ynur efforts as he who. once a young man like you, is now pimp ly old, contented and comfortable—Life Illudrated. What the Wind Kaye. 'Do you know what the December wind says, grandpa.' asked a little child at an old merchant's knee. 6 1 , 10 puss ; what does it?' he answered, stroking her fair hair. Remember the Poor grandpa.— When it comes down thimney it roars.— , itemensier the Poor;' when it puts its great mouth to the keyhole it whistles, 'Remember the Poor;' when it strides through the crack in the door it whispers it ; and. grandpa, when it blott's your silver hair in the street, and shiver and the button up roar coat, does it not get in your ear and say so too, in a still small voice. grandpa Why. what does the child mean ?' cri ed grandpa, who I am afraid hod been used to shut his heart against such winds. 'You want a new muff and tippet. reckon a pretty way to get them out of your old grandfather: grandpa,' said the child earnestly. shaking her head..no, it is the atO muff and tippet children I'm thinking of ; my mother always remembers them and so do I try.' After the nex. storm tho old merchant sent fifty dollars to the treasurer of the relief society, and said 'Call for more when you want it."l'he treasurer star• ted with surprise, for it was the first time he had ever collected more than a dollar from him, and that, he thought came grud gingly• tWhy, said the rich old merchant after. wards. I could never get rid of that child's words ; they stuck to me like glue.' •And a little child shall lead them,' says the scripture. Flaw many a cold heart has melted. and a close heart opened, by the simple earnestness and suggestive words of a child. Car 'Bobby, what became of that big hole you had in your trowaera the day afore yet.terday ?' •Oh, it's word our.' 11111 r '•Mither wither ! what have yuu done f' said a littl.• news boy to a greenhorn who had just tied his horse to a spruce pole, as he thought on third street. "Dune !" said the fellow, "what do you mean 1 I ham% beea doin' nothin', as 1 knows on 1" "Why. yeth you have, Oil.; you've hitched your hoth to the magnetic telegraph and you'll be in New York in lath than a pair of minuths, if you don't look out." The man untied his horse with nervous anxiety, and jumping into his wagon drove hastily down the street. A PARODY. You'd cearce expect one of my age To smoke cigars and look so sage. And if I shouid a mustache wear, (Although the hair is rather spare,) Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my little whiskora by. Big aches from little ton corns flow; Long beards from downy face:. grow; And though my bet, d is thug and young, Of tender growth and lately sprung, Yet all the whiskers in the town Lately existed but in down. But why may not young Chuckey's face, Be covered like others of his rack— Exceed what Tom and Dick have done, Or any man beneath the sun? Where are the whiskery far or near, That cannot find a rival here? Or where's the boy of th ee feet high, Who has more fuzzy beard than I? gar •Can a body eat with these things' abked an elderly lady, who was handling a pair of artificial plates in a dental office, and admiring the fluency with which the &mist describes them. .fly dear madam,' reponds the dentist. 4na-tication can be performed by them with a facility scarcely excelled by Nature h-r9ell 'Zes, 1 know,' replied the female; 'but can a body eat with them 7' 111111 r "What are you writing such a large hood for, Pat!" Why, you see that my grandmother dare, and I'm writing a loud hither to her sir "Is that n lightning hug? asked a short, sighted lady. "No' said the Miss, "it's a boy buy with a lighted cigar." ie'The Knickerhocer has the follow , ing interesting epigrams . "HERE Lts Two grind mothers with their two grand daughters, Two husbands with their two wives, Two fathers with their t daughters, Two mothers with their two soul, Two mattkos wish their two mothers, Two sisters with their two brothers, Yet but six corps in all lie hurried here, All born legitimate, and from incest clear." And nor ingenious antiquarian satisfac torily unravels all the intricate tangle— Let your Knickerbocker wits •throw themselves upon the euwjeck.' Also, while they are about it, let them answer this; Also, while they are about it, let them answer this : The widowers (who are not related) marry each other's dough• tern; what relation will their children be in each other ? IC?. One jour printer in our hearing, ablced another what he thought of the world— a most pregnant inquiry— which was answered by the other in the statement that the world is a stage and the printers are tilt. horses.' Car The Library of Cimgress has re• cesved an addition of about 4,500 volumes since this iliac last year, which have all been properly classified, end their titles praised in a neat appendix to the catalogue sip- The Spaniards soy: 'At eightheen marry your daughter to her superior, at twenty to her equal, at thirty to anybody that will hare her.' Car A few days ago we heard a singu. lar account of a Western merchant. It seems he had been but a few years in bus. iness. and upon taking an account of stock found that his profits had been, as his led ger showed seine $60,000 ; in other words that his indebtedness was $20,000 and his assets $BO,OOO. Wishing to replenish, and elated by his great success he went New York, represented his great skill. and on the strength of it bought some $7O, 000 worth of goods on credit and returned home. A few weeks after he was back again in New York, proposing to oompro mise for forty cents on the dollar. ..How is this ?' said his astonished creditor ; a short time ago you were worth $00,000." 'Why, said he, 'the fact is, my hook-keep er made a mistake. I was owing $BO,OOO and had only s2o'ooo. The ..plielinks" of those creditors can better be imagined ;than desbribed. Mr Most mon employ their first years so us to malcest heir last miserable. mmsennmeamin A/IMR. larmers' (C'olumn. lig that by the plough would thrive, lliiiiseo; mum either hold or drive." Fur •hr Huntingdon Journal. The Rev. David Strag of the state of New York says: The rot has already begun this season among the potatoes. One that saved his several seasons in another pert of the country, while those of others mound hint rotted. Advice. to cut off the vine, of et, VOL. XXII. NO. 52. ery hill with e sickle close by the ground to kill them effectually. If the decay has begun only on the leaves. and the vines are not softened or withered into the ground this save the potatoes, and they will grow in size till the sap in the remainder of the vine is exhausted, and they will be safe to lie in the ground till the usual time of digging. Hut if the leaves are all wither ed and the vines have decayed into the ground, the potatoes will then be affected, and it will be too late to save them in this way. The best thing to be done is to dig them and use them immediately. They will not injure animals fed to moderato quantities with other things; and they will grow worse every day after they are affected, either in the ground or above it, till they become entirely worthless. It all seems to proceed from some influence to the air, like the rust of wheat. and the best rule for successful cultivation in each cese is, to be early. oGod is on the side of the early farmer," as the old English proverb says. Keeping Potatoes in Priam—Potatoes spoil in winter, buried, from three causes. First and greatest. want of ventilation,` Secondly, and neariy allied dampness.— 'Thirdly. and more rare freezing.. Far. mere find most of their potatoes spoiled at the top of the heap where they suppose they became frozen; but this is not the usual cause, the damp. foul, steady air as. cended there, and could not escape, and this spoiled them. A hole made in the ton, with a crowber, end closed wtth wisp of straw, would have allowed egress to be confined air, and saved the petit. toes. • The best way to secure potatoes out door, is to take large heaps, nay 50 or 60 bushels ; see that they are dry and clean, by digging before wet weather comes on; cover them all over with one foot ol pack ed straw, and three incites of earth. The straw will prevent dampness, and the few inches of earth will favor ventilation. A farmer who rises many potatoes, and prac tices this mode, does not lose a peck, ow the average, in 50 bushels. Cording Cal•le.—We think then is no doubt that grown cattle need to be dar. ly carded. Youeg cattle may do well enough without a card, but the old ones should have their hides scratched to keep the pares of skin open. Card them at a certain time of day, and they will like the opperation. Pigs and hogs like to he carded, but we cannot spare time to gratify them. They must be satisfied with rubbing against a post in the middle of the pen. Premium Ilims.—Editors of the Amer- ican Farmers : You are requested to publish the several receipts far curing be. con hums, which received the premiums at the late Exhibition of the Maryland State Agricultural Society, and oblige.— The. Chairman of the Committee. First Preimuin.—Recip to cure 1,000 pounds Pork Hants.—Mix 2d lbs. saltpe. ter, finely powdered, / bus, fine salt, 3 lbs. brown sugar, / gallon molasses, Rub the meat with the mixture : pack with skin down. Turn over once a week, arid add a little salt After being down 3 or 4 weeks, 'take out wash, and hang up 2 or 3 weeks, until it is dry, Then smoke with hickory wood 3 or 4 weeks ; then bag, or pack away in it cool place—not a cellar— in chaff or hay. Examine occasionally, and renew dry packing klaterial. Thos. Love, Loveton, near Cockeysville Maryland. Measuring Corn in the Ear.—Having gathered and safely housed his corn, the farmer wishes to ascertain with some deg ree of certainty what amount of shelled eon's there may be in his pile. There are various rules for this all of which are more or less serviceable. The following, we find in the Valley Fanner, and it is 0120 which can be easily tested. if it prove a sound rule, we advise our readers to cut it out and keep it for reference. "Arrange the corn in the pen or crib so that it will be of equel depth throughout then ascertain the length, breadth, depth of the pile, multiply these dimensions to gether, and their product by 41. Then cut off one figure Irons the right of the last product, and the remainder will be so many bushels of shelled corn; and,the gu re cut off will show many tenths, of 41 bushel more, Example : is a crib or pen of corn in the ear, measuring tan feet long eight feet long, eight feet high, and wen feet wide, there will be 252 hautbois of aliened corn. Thus :-10x8x7x41-244,9 —Maine Farmer. Mir The weather is delightful now and the hots so blooding Inostit.