tilt.' 0tt0 .. .. .ligOliblit os, ...-'O.-:0--:O.O...,':.•.,..'::.. r D. A. ntrEitLEn, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR VOL. XVIL-9. POETRY. FOltfiltlT TREE. Forget thee ! oh ! my spirit's weary, With its long, unbroken chain ! Forget thee !—oh ! were life more dreary, Still thine image would remain, Blending with each fancy Vision; Thoughts of love too false and frail— Youthful hopes that had arisen, Leaving manhood to be~i ail. Thine eyes - of light, and face of beauty ! Come they with a vvildring To mock my dreams of love and duty, With thy mystic fare-thee-well ! • Forget thee !—oh ! though lost forever, Fondly loved through vain regret- With a charm time may not sever, Memory round thee, lingers yet. LOOK ALOFT. In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale re around and above, if thy footinißiould If thine eyes should grow dim, and thy caution de part, • "Look aloft," and he firm, and be fearless of heart. If the friend, who embraced in priisperity's glow, With a smile for earl) joy, and a tear for each we, Should betray thee when sorrows like clouds are array'd, "Look aloft - to the friendship v.ltich.never Alan flute. Should the visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye, Like the tints of the rainbow but brighten to fly, Then turn, and through tears of repentant regret, "Look aloft" to the sun that is never to set. Should they who are dearest, the son of thy heart, The wife of thy bosom, in sorrow depart, !'r.ook aloft" from the darkness and dust of the tomb, To that soil where "affection k ever in bloom.' And 0! when death comes in his terrors, to cast His fears on the future, his pall on the pa,t, In that moment ofdarkness, with hope in thy heart And a smile in thine eye, "look aloft" and depart 'For the "Star and Banner." THE ORPHAN MAID. Tia droop'd—that spirit once so free— "ris shut—that heart so full of glee, That mingled once in mirthful play. And sporting laugh'd 'heath pleasure's ra) Iles roseate hue is di in 'd —the'fade Of sorrow o'er her bloom has laid It ruthless hands—and, &purd to die, She drirams and heaves the parting sigh. No hand parental smoother; the bed of death—to tell the spirit's fled; No weeping eye brings forth a tear, Pure, front feeling's tountain, clear. None knew her worth, for sorrow's breath lledini'd her light by early death ; And none save virtue's anthem told, The loss' of her, in deathenroll'd. - Tier road though short was mild and calm As twilight dress'd in summer's balm ; Tier pnth was known xvher'er she strayed, Ry graces Which mound her played. Tint sorrow's form. so pale and wan, Tlis fiendish work at last berran. And taught the rose in earliest bloom, To waste its beauty in the tomb. Unwept, unsung. she bears away I ler spirit pure, froe'd of its clay, To purer worlds where virtue's tale, To find an car, will never fail. From nature's touch shall ever rpring Those gifts that art could never hi kg "rn grace a tomb—the ivy twin'd With rose and violet pale combad. Perhaps some hand may rear a stune To tell the future of her home ; Or teach some willow's graceful shade To weep o'er her—the Orphan Maid. CALLIOPE MISCELLANY. ANECDOTE.—We find in an exchange paper an anecdote of the late William \Virt that is too good to be lost. Wirt's life of Patrick llenry, as every reader of that bi ography knows, is excessive -in its lauda tions o4' the great Virginian Orator ; in filet it may well be doubted whether the man ever lived to whom such swelling and va ried strains of panegyric could be justly applied, as Wirt continually resorts to in depicting the character or Henry. In illustration of this trait the following story current in Eastern Virginia, said to be true to the letter, is told: Wirt was once engaged in. the trial of a cause iii which one of , the most material witnesses on the other side was notorious for gullibility. By way of showing up this trait in thp witness, and thus impairing his testimony, Wirt asked if he had ever read Riley's Narative, and if so, whether lie thought it was true. "Oh, yes," said the witness, "I've read it, and I believe ev ery word of !" The counsel on theoth er side perceiving the advantage gained by his opponent, here interposed the question : "Did you ever read Wirt's life of Ileury, and if so, do you believe it is true':"' have read it," 'replied the simple witness, "but I can't sad• I believe it ; no, no, that's more than 'I can swallow !"' Wirt was "essentially floored." TUE MAN, TO BEDESIFIED.—The most iiszreeahle - of - all" companions is a simple, frank man, without any high pretensions to. oppressive greatness; one who loves life and understands the use of it, obliging alike at all hours; of a golden temper, and stead fast as as anchor. Fur such an one, we would gladly exchange the most brilliant ;wit, or the profoundest thinker. Wi l co Walter Scott was .dying, he call ed his son-hi-law. Mr. Lockhart, •to .him anti said :—Lockhart, I may have but a min ute to speak to you. My dear, be a. good virtnons—he religions—be a good man. Not h ITthe will give you any com fort when you conic here. 7 The death bud is or t 1 heart. No man 6 i% vats% iee "advice to bad euttus.2l here. From Capt. Fremont's "Expedition to the Rocky Alountaini." A Desperate Adventure. • While encamped on the 21 th of April at a springnear the Spanish Trail, we were surprised by the sudden appearance among US of two Mexicans ; a man and a boy— the name of the man was Andreas FLICIP• tas, and that of the boy (a handsome lad 11 years old) Pablo Ilermandez. With'a cavalcade of about 30 horses, they had come out from Puebla de los Angclos, near the Pacific ; had lost half of their animals, stolen by the Indians, and now sought my camp fot aid. Carson and Godcy, two of my men, volunteered to pursue them, with the Mexican ; and, well mounted, the :I set oll'on the trail. In the evening Filen tas returned, his horse having failed, but Carson and Godey , had continued the pur suit. In the afternoon of the next day, a war whoop was heard, such as Indians make when returning from a victorious enterprise: and soon Carson and Cody appeared dri ving befbre them a band of horses recog nized by Fuentas to be a part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps dangling from the end of Gudey's gun, announced that they had overtaken the Indians us well as the horses. They had continued the pursuit alone after Fuentas left them, andtowards nightfall entered the mountains into which the trail led. After sunset the moon gave light and they followed the trail by moonlight, until late in the night, when iv entered s narrow - defile, and it was diffi cult to follow. Here they lay .from midnight till morning. At daylight they resumed the pursuit, and at sunrise discov ered the horses ; and immediately dis mounting and tieing up their own, they crept cautiously to a rising ground which intervened, from the crest of which. they perceived the encampment of 4 . lodges close by. They preeeedcd quietly, and had got within thirty or forty 'yards Of their object, when a movement among the horses discoverefl them to the Indians.— Giving the war shout they instantly charg ed into the camp, regardless - of the numbers which the 4 lodges might contain. — The Indians received them with a flight of ar rows, shot from their long bows; one of which passed through Godey's shirt,eollar, barely missing the neck. .Our men fired rifles and rushed in. Two Indians were stretched upon the ground fatally: pierced' with bullets, the rest fled, except a lad who was captured. The scalps of the fallen were instantly stripped off; but in the pro cess one of them, who had tiVo balls through his body, sprang to his feet, the blood streaming from his skinned !teach and utter ed a hideous howl. The frightful spectacle. appalled the stout hearts of our men; but they did what humanity required, and quickly terminated the agonies of the gory savage. They were now masters of the camp, which was a pretty little recess in the mountains, with a fine spring; and ap parently sale from all invasion. Great preparations had been made for feasting a large party, for it was a very proper place for rendezvous, and for the celebration of such orgies as the robbers of the desert would delight in. Several of the best horses had been killed, skinned and cut up—for the Indians living in mountains, and only com ing into plains to rob and murder, make no use of horses but to cat them. Large earthen vessels were on the lire, boiling and stewing the horse beef; and several baskets containing 50 or GO pairs of nine-, casins, indicated the presence or expecta tion of a large party. They released the boy, who had given strong evidence of the stoicism, or something. else of the savage character, by commencing Ids breakfast up on a horse's head, as soon as he found he was not to be killed, but only tied as a pris oner. Their object- accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses, 15 in number, returned upon their trail, and re joined us at our vamp in the 'afternoon of the same day. They had rode about 100 miles in the pursuit and return, and all in :30 horns. Two men, in a savage wilder ness, pursue day and night an unknown body of Indians into the defiles of an un known mountain—attack them on sight • without counting numbers—and defeat them in an instantand for what t--to pun . - ish the robbers of the desert, and revenge the wrongs of Mexicans whom tfley did not know. 1 repeat it was Carson and Godey who did this—the former an .dmerican, born in Boonslick county, Missouri ; the latter a Frenchman, born in St. Louis—and, both trained to western enterprise from early life. The following legal story is from the Knickerhoehert—There is a well known custom prevailing in our criminal coure; of assigning counsel to such prisoners as have no one to defend them. On one occasion,. the court finding a man accused of theft, and without counsel, said to a wag of a lawyer who Was present, "Mr....—,please withdraw with the prisoner, confer with him, and then give him such counsel as may be hest for his interest." The law yer and his client withdrew; and in fif teen or twenty minutes the lawyer returned into court, alone. "Where is the prisoner?" asked the court. "Ile has gone, your hen or;" said the, hopeful legal 'limb.' "Your honor told me to give him the best advice I email ftwhis interest ; and as he said he was guilty, I-thought the besr counsel I could otter him *us to 'cut and run,' which he took at mice. Ile b= Jersey, your honor, by thi*-,ame. GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, MAY 15,1846. AN ARTIST'S REVENGE The amusing Paris -correspondent of the Courier des Utats Unis tells the following : "One of our most celebrated painters had made, with the view of exhibition at the gallery, the portrait of a lady, whose for tunchad enabled her to occupy a very bril liant position, and who had been for alone time regarded as one of the most beautiful women of Paris. Unfortunately, this rep !illation is one of such long standing. that it is already on the wane. The lady in question has already,reached an age which no one is ever willing to acknowledge, :however much it may have been extolled jby the witty pen of Balzac. The dusty files of the Civil Registry kept the secret of her forty summers,- tvlticho she concealed as well as she could, with a wonder ful skill, and by her great endeavors to be as iu time past. Paris is a place of great resources ; ointments for all wounds ' are to be found there, as well as admirers of all ages. Our heroine maintained her pretensions bravely; her vanity was tol erated, and being desirous of giving pub licity to her attractions by an exhibition at the Louvre, she had her portrait painted. She prepared her best looks for the pur -1 pose, wearing her most becoming dress, as suming a position most favorable to her charms, seated before her toilette table, leaning negligently on the arm of her chair and smiling upon her own reflection in the mirror, which, of course, was to be "most complimentary to her charms. The paint er's-Welted a 1110S.t. strikiN.r, likeness in do-. I ing so, he did just 'what he should nothave done. A little more flattery, and a little less exactness, would have been far more acceptable. The perfectness of the like ness made her less willing to recognize its merits. The model declared she could not see any likeness in it, and the painting was left on the hands of the unfortunate painter. This tvas a double wrong to our artist. Attacked both professionally and pecuniari v' the painter had not sufficient reSigna- ti on to enable hint to look on cooly and see a portrait worth a thousand crowns left on his hands. A way to be revenged, lor rather to do himself justice, presented [itself to his mind, and he set himself at 'once about putting it in execution. A few days before the time fixed for of fering paintings for the exhibition at the J.ouvre, the lady who had refused to take her portrait was informed, by home friend, that the rejected portrait had received sun dry additions, of acharaeter far from corn- Plimentary. She immediately repaired to the studio of our artist. The portrait was still there ; the likeness of the face as per fect as ever; only the painter had some what the brows dismantled, and the person so faithfully represented, was holding in her hands two bunches of false curls. Up on her toilette table were legibly written these words: "white lead;""vegetable rouge;" "cosmetic for the removal of wrinkles ;" "waters for dyeing the hair." - ('Then in the midst of all this artillery, could be distinctly seen three billets, signed by i three different christian names. "This is abominable!" cried the lady; it is all a tissue. of calumnies!" "Of what do von complain ?" replied the painter very coolly, "Have you not in sisted that there vast not the least likeness of yourself here You were perfectly right. This no likeness of yours ; it is a mere fancy sketch,and as such I mean to exhib it it." “What, Sir! Do you mean to exhibit that painting?” . . "Certainly, madame, I mean to exhibit it as a fancy sketch, as the catalogue will show, in which you will find it set- down under the title of—.l Coquette of forty five," At this blow the lady went into hyster ics. As soon as she had recovered herself, she hastened to effect a compromise with the painter. The painter effaced before her own eyes the offensive additions, and the painting. restored to its original condi tion, was purehssed at the'price originally stipulated—three thousand francs. EXCE•;SI VE POLITENESS Howland 11111 was always annoyed when there happened to be any noise in the chap el, or when any thing occurred to divert the attention of his hearers from what he Wa.4 - saying. On one occasion a few days before his death, he Was preaching to one of the most crowded congregations that ev er. atisembled to bear him. In the middle of his discourse, he observed a commotion in the gallery. For some time he took no notice of it, but finding it increasing, he paused in his sermon; and, looking in the direction in which the confusion prevailed, he exclaimed— " What's the matter there ? .the devil seems to have got among you." A plain country looking man immediate ly started to his feet, and addressing Mr. Hill in reply, said— "No sir, it arn't the devil as is doing it; it's a fat lady wot's fainted ; and she's a werry. fat 'un, sir, as don't seem likely to come too again in a hurry?' "Oh, that's it, is it ?" observed Mr. Hill, drawing his hand across his chin, "then I'll beg the ladyLs pardon—and the devil's too." 4.l,l4pivrou On..—lt has lately been discovered, 'bleb, however, - has been long known to the Indians, That an alligator is' as valuable in his way as a spermaceti whale; their oil is said to be better for lamps than even whale oil, and a : good sized animal will yield from a barrel 0 a barrel and'a half. A war upon the race will doubtless be eomtuenced forthwith. 'FEARLESS AND FREE." GIVING THE DOCT. THE BAG TO HOLD The Portage County (Ohio) Sentinel tells a queer story of an adventure which lately took place at Cleveland, in the Med ical College, and by which certain profes sors of anatomy were minus of a few dol, lars - by bad speculation in human flesh.— Whilst this honorable body were in even ing session, a man-brought to them a sttb feet enveloped in a bag,Which, upon a cur sory examination, being pronounced !_good' was accepted and paid for at the usual I price of $3O. The students were prom ; ised the cutting up of the subject on the ensuing day, and - the body was according ly placed in the dissecting room. The ' next morning, however, during a lecture, strange• sounds were heard in the room, and cries as of a person suffocating. The students all looked aghast—thought of ghosts and hobgoblins, of butchered sub jects and supernatural apearanecs. Some of the professors looked dubious, and oth ers turned pale, as though they had seen a vision—when it was suddenly espied that the strong bag which contained their last purchase of of human flesh, was flounder ing about on the floor, and from it was evi dently proceeding the sounds, which now resolved themselves to cries of "Murther ! Murther'! Holy mother• and blessed Ma ry, deliver me ! Sure lam living.and not dead ! Murther ! Murther !" Seizing hold of the bag, they tore it open and beheld a genuine son of Erin, more frightened than themselves, who looked around with utter . astOniShment at the scene before him. After a while, Pat told them that the 1 t he remembered of the preceding day was that he was drinking very_ freely at one of the groggeries, and when dead drunk he was undmibtedly bag ged up and sold la the Professor. Such was his fright that Poor Pat solemnly de clared he would never touch “one drap of the craythur," and the Professor and the students, with a beaky laugh over the ri diculous joke, bade him take to his heels, and never again find himself brought so near to Purgatory by the device of the rumseller. The tricks played upon the inexperience of country visitors to New Yin!: city, are of endless variety, rind one of our exchanges thus proceeds to describe one, which, we are assured, is the very latest of the. kind upon record. - An holiest and green countryman, from Oiinton county, found himself—lost him self, we might as well sayin New York not long since; and in a bar-room where he had made some acquaintaince by his in genious deportment, exhibited among the stores of knives, keys, pencils, &c,, in him trowsers' pockets, two bright sovereigns. One of _the bystanders, on seeing these, warned the innocent youth against the danger of Pickpockets, some of whom, he. said, might be present, and rob him before he knew it. "Not by a darned sight," said the cau tious countryman, "I can find a safe place tor them," and so saying he put both gold pieces in his mouth ; and started out for a walk up Broadway. Ile had proceeded but a short distance, before a boy with a dirty face, and soiled and ragged jacket, who had been standing at the stove in the bar-room he had just left, ran past him, and a moment afterward he heard him bawling as if half killed. A crowd quick ly gathered round the crying boy, and the countryman was not the last, of course to try and find out what was the matter. “What ails von—what are you crying about?” asked one of the philanthropic mob. “800 ! boo ! I've lost my money ! boo! boo!” cried the inconsolable dirty face.' “Where? and how much? exclaimed the excited assembly, ' , Boo hoo! I lost two Sovereigns," and taking down his hands from his eyes, from which lie had been pressing a torrent of tears, exclaimed, pointing to our country friend, who by this time had been surround- . ed by the crowd. "That big rascal has got them in his mouth." The astonishment of the countryman made him speechless; and the indignation of the crowd at this supposed robbery of a poor boy was unbounded. One of the spectators caught him by the collars, the sovereigns rolled out upon the walk, and were instantly seized by the boy—while .the innocent countryman,. before he was able to say a word, got kicked and beaten ; and had he not taken the police officer, who now made his appearance back to where he had shown the money, would have been taken to the station house. The sovereigns were a total loss. MAIIMAGE or TIIV AMERMAN MINtSTER AT, TuRIN.—Uon. Robert Wickliffe,. Jr., Charge d'Affaires of the United States at Turin, was married on the 7th of April, to Miss Josephine Van Houton, of Rotterdam, a lady of rank and fortune. The marriage was celebrated in the Chapel of the Prus sian Embassy, at Turin, by Rev. Mr. Bert, Pastor of the Protestant Legation. In the evening Mr. \V. entertained the bride and a distinguished party at dinner. The act of marriage was attested brihe Chevalier Biscarra, for the bride, and by Mr. G. J. Crofts, of Charleston, South Carolina, for the bridegrooM. Bacon may be effectually preserved from the fly, while its qualify is not at all injurei, by throwing red pepper on the fire hi the smoke house, during the latter part of the operation. A JUVENILE DODGE A HARD RUB FOR THE TRUTH. . . Old Parson M. of —, Worcester county, sometimes used to be absent on a missionary- tour. Once on a time, having just returned from one of these excursions, he found his congregation quite drowsy ; so wishing to wake them up, he broke ofF in the midst of his sermon, and began to tell them of what wonderful things he had seen in York State—among other won ders he said he had seen monstrous great musquitoes so large that many of them would weigh a pound ! The congregation were.soon wide awake. Yes, continued Parson M., and moreover, they are often known to climb trees and DARK The next (lay one of the deacons called upon him and seriously informed him that many of the brethren • were much scandal- I ized by the big stories he told the day be fore. "What mories ?" says Parson M. "Why, sir, you aelually said that the musquitoes in York State were so large that many of them would weigh a pound ! " "Well," rejoined the Minister, "I do re ally and honestly think that a GI MAT many of them worLo weigh a pound !" "But, you also said they would climb up trees and bark!" continued the deacon. "Well, sir, as to the .climbing up on trees, I have seen Them do that— havn't you, deacon ?" - asked Parson M. "Oh, yes!" “Well, how could hey climb . up on this trees and not'clitnli . od,the BARK?"- h The deacon was of course nonpluss.ed. THE GAMESTER'S CLOSE OF LIFE.—The Church of England Quarterly RevieW points a moral dedneed from the life of a .notorious gambler, known in England as Bath," to all persons who may be induced to engage in this unlawful and dishonorable profession. Riley Was both accomplished and gifted, and he for a time, lived a life of the most- gorgeous--lux ury and extravagance. He was the com pany of sovereigns; he squandered with a profusion, adiounting to incessantry, and won it by a good fortune that seemed con nected with the supernatural. Nor was he free from generous or daring sentiments. He, on one occasion, risked an entire col lossal fortune, on the hazzard of the die a gainst a Russian estate, the slaves on which he was desirous of restoring to freedom.---. He .succeeded iri his attenipt, and accom plished his desire. Subsequently he ran a brief course of dazzling splendor; he' lived in palaces; continued to play ; became un• lucky, and found fortune, wealth and friends desert him. At length the once possesisor of millions was seen wandering; through the streets of London, naked, famished and. pennyless I and finally, he who had feast ed emperors and fared sumptuously every day, died of absolute starvation in one of the miserable alleys of the great metrop olis. COMMERCIAL VALUE OF INSECTS.— The good 'man who rose quietly from his seat to pui'a buzzing fly out of the window,. with the remark that the world was big enough for him and it, given .as a reason that he did not kill the insect, no doubt un derstood economy' and philanthropy far better than many amongst us at the present day, who make loud talk" abontschemeS of universal benevolence. Laying aside, however, the purposes which the tiny in sects that so often seem to annoy us, are designed to perform in the schemes of na ture, they arc economically not the inaig nil-leant and and unimportant creatures which they arc apt to be considered. A late writer remarks with great justice that the importance of insects to commerce is scarce ever treated of. Great Britain does not pay less than a million of dol lars annually for the dried carcasses of, a tiny insect—the Cochineal. Gum Shel• lac, another insect product from India, is of scarcely less pecuniary value. A mil lion and a half of human beings derive . their sole support from the culture and manufac ture olsilk, and the silk-wortn alone cre ates an annual circulating imam olbe tween one hundred and fifty and two hun dred millions of dollars. Balk a million of dollars is annually spent in England alone for foreign honey ; 10,000 hundred weight of wax is imported into that country each year. Then there are the gall nuts of com merce, used for dyeing, and in the man ufacture of ink, &c., whilst the Cantharides or Spanish fly is an important insect to the medical practitioner. - In this way, we see the importance of certain classes of the insect race, whilst in another view, the rest clear the air of nox ious vapors, and are severally-designed by nature for useful purposes though* we, in our bindness, may not understand them. ' The Knickerbocker says that at a wed ding the other day, the justice who per- 1 formed the marriage ceremony said to the bridegrooin; "Will you have this woman I to, be your wedded wife?" to which he an-, swered with a smile on his lip peculiar to "one of the ho-boys," "I won't have no body else!" The reply of his bride to the kindred query was not less specific and characteristic: "Will you, take thiS•man to • be your.lawful husband ?" said the Justice; to which shS responded, with breathless haste,• "Yes, Sir-reel" • An Irishman in writing , a letter to his sweetheart, *lug whether she would ac cept of hits4ove or not; Writei,thust--"If you dont love tne,plaz. send ate back the letter with* bihaLlpg the - seal.'! TERIRSTIVO 'DOLL'ARS' AP:MM. 3 I w00.4..,Xt0.',1•:,:54t.: MA.actt or etry.t;ATioN IN Titr. §4.150;• Wlen ISLAM:Ise—The Rev. Dr. A . rinstrongt at a missionarymceting in Y . stated that twenty odd yeari ago, two ves sels sailed front this coutiliy-,eich with a 'company of missionaries.. They ',contin ued in the sate track to the.equator, when they separated : one went, eastwa4, a round the Cape of Good Hope, atnk landed her, missionaries at Ceylon, among an an cient proud and superstitious people, where they have preached Christ with great suc cess. The other vessel proceeded west ward around Cape Horn, and thence north ward, and landed her missionaries at the Sandwich Islands, among an ignorant, sav age and deeply degraded race. There they began to make known the Gospel. Now, said Dr. A., I have . just received a letter from the Sandwich. Islands, with a draft from the Church of Molakai, the contribu tions of the natives;deriVed from the sale of mats, &c., •of slo9—to be-paid to ,the Ceylon mission for the education ,orpious natives there for the ministry. Is not this indeed a wonder? Christians of the Sand wich Islands, twenty years ago, in thick est darkness, are raising. funds to educate the youth of Ceylon ! SALTING llonsr.s.--A curious fact is mentioned in Parker's Treatise on Salt:— A person who kept sixteen farming horses made the following experiment with seven ; of their', which had !yen accuatiamed . eat salt when laid • in' their manger's, ..and. these lumps, previously`.weiglied, Weriex ant ined-regularly, to ascertain 'weekly what, quantity had been consumed, and :it Was repeateilly found that, whenever these hor ses were fed on hay and eorn, they ',Con:. sumed only two and a half or three ounces per day when they were fed with new hay, they took_ six : ounces per day. This fact should convince us of the expediency of permitting oui cattle the free use of_ salt at all times ; and it cannot 'given in so convenient a form as a rack salt—it being much, more palatable than:the other in a refitted state, and by far cheaper. 'A goad lump should always be kept in a' box, by the - side of the animal, withuut fear that it will everbe taken to execss.'."- ' . RECIPES FOR RAKING, &c Indian Meal Breakfaat cakes,--Pour boiling water into a quart of corn meal, stir. it until it is "wet; then add two well beaten • eggs, and milk enough to: make it,a thick: batter; measure a small, nteaspoonful rpt drysaleratus, indAissiffe 11116 ittititeVitiir water, and put it into the batter-with'a small quantity of salt; butter square tin' pans, fill them two-thirds full, and flake in a quick oven ; when done, cut it in squares,' and serve hot. Indian Mujins.—Pour water in.. to a quart of corn meal, stir it well, let it be a thick batter; when .it has cooled - a littler add to it a tablespoonful of yeast, two eggs, a Teaspoonful of salt: set iu a warm Place to rise for two hours, then butter some score tins, two-thirds fill them, and bake in a quick oven ; when done, serve hot or cut in squares, or bake as wheat muffins. Corn Bread;--1 quart milk, I . lb. Indi an meal,:2 eggs, scull lump butter, a little. saleratus ; bake in a flat.pan. • • ; Srtificial.Oysters.-1 pint grated green corn, 1 ,egg, table.spaonful wheat fl our, 1 spoonful butter ; . fry them:brown. • • Baked Indian Pudding.--1 quart milk, boiled, stir in 7 spoonfttl meal while it is' boiling 'hot, mix it quite thin; when it is moderately warm add molasses, a little ginger and salt, 4 eggs, a lump of butter, the size of.an egg. • • - • . • Corn Pudding.- --Takc 4 ears, of green corn, boil'tbem-until half done, cut off the corn as fine as conienient, .miie it with two spoonsful of wheat flotir,..l. pint sweet milk, salt and pepper to, season-- - bake it well. • - • Green Corn Cake:—Mix 1 pint grated green corn with 3:table spoonsful - milk, 1 tea-cup wheatllour, 14 cup melted bUtter, 1 egg, 1 spoonful salt, spoonful pepper. Drop this mixture into hot butter by the spoonful, let them fry 8 or 10 minutes. Boiled Indian Pudding.-1 tea-cup- of molasses, a piece of suet . the size of two eggs, chopped fine, 8 spoonsful•of meal, scald the meal with boiling water or milk. mix it quite thin, when it is nearly cold add 4 eggs well beaten. - It requires three hours' boiling in a strong cloth. Indian Gruel.—:-To 1 quart of boiling water stir in two table spoonsfulof Indian meal, mixed with a little cold water; boil 15 or 20 minutes—a little salt.: - • Johnny Cake is preparetl from the corn meal scalded, and the dough' rolled or pressed out to half an inch thickness, cooked one side at a time in front Of the' tire after being put on a board, sheet of tin, ' a plate, or any material of suitable shape. .18h Cake is prepared - from 'the corn dough made. as above, and is . cooked as follows—make a bed by scraping away the ashes on 'all sides, roll the dough afteele ing made into form- between two.eskbagoz leaves, place it in the betraUd coier.ne with the previously' . removed ash en*: embers ; a little practiee:wilt determine length of time requisite for toookingi l'hpq process resembles that of Tr:kiting paittietis, , . • A. I • stioc CLoox.—The 4CW clatkalir Trinity cluyekiire, it. Ntw - ,Yolitoras.. l ; exhibited on, Fri da y. weight.,looo pounds, and ill estinvlted : to..,; The pendulum is ' .200' pounds• . . t in?es j !' ll " blu ,. a ge ' ' It is to ,strike die t ;amt. qUartorat.asto run eight days r
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers