ottß. The Dying Boys ft`tatitti heerreet, in childhood to give back The apt*. Ittits•klaker;. ere-the heart . Has grown familiar with the paths of sin, And Sovtn—to garner up its bitter fruit; I knew a boy, whoie infant feet bad trod Uponthe , blinasome-of some seven Springs, And rien the eighth came round and called him out • . To revel in Relight, he turned away, And sought leis chamber, to Re town and die. wws, night—:he .sunntoned his accustomed friends, ditd, in thieviise, bestowed his last bequest: Mother,—rm dying nowt Iliateis a-deep' miffocation in-my breast, di some heavy hand my bosom pressed; And on my brow . -... - “Jleolthe cold sweat stand; Wiliriegroli dry and tremulous, and my breath Comes ftiblYnp. Oh, tell me, is this deatb ? gehrlinitda• q.t : Sszt.: ;1r 11 ;4 r .11;1418 ' .4,6 urepether auks, *nein rni-nead; nealiiiliiiit:iiiiiiher,'sayt; when I am dead ' ,stigui,,miased? 4q Neyer; beside your knee, Shall I ftzfeclAnwirnilairt at night 4 to pray, Norititliihetniorning wake nnci sing the lay y,oulitught,me. 9potPke fimi , of traier, iffilheyoitinok round and see a vacant-seat, You will not wait then for my coming feet— .l4‘i ,YoulllanfaCane there. ;11tAtt111%; !131g°iRg home Te c tAltgoo4 ,1011:11e ycm. ap ake of, that blest lied Wheriat is : onaArighi•Summer always, and- Storm's' do.ttot come. "I must be happy then, Pram pain and diathlou sayl'shall be free, That sickness never enters there, and we Shaltmeet again! ,1 11trother---the little Spot I used to,oell toy garden, where long hours We'ire:stt►yed to - watch the budding things and Itowets; Forget itmot I "Plant there some box ei Something that lives , in Winter, and will be A verdant offering to.my, memory, And call it mine "Sinter—my young rose tree— That all the Spring has been niy pleasant care, .11:tst putting forth its leaves so green and fair, -. giveio thee. 4, And, when its roses bloom— I!,sholl be away, my short life done ; But will you not beslow a single one 'Upon my tomb ? • = 4 4 Now t mother s sing the tune You Sang last night; I'm weary and must sleep. Who }►' ; itcalled My name? do not weep, ~ r You'll all come soon t" Ak`g spread , o'er earth her rosy wings ; -- And that meek sufferer, cold and ivory pale, Lay on his couch asleep. The gentle air Came through the open window, freighted with The 'savory, odOrs of the early Spring— rebreethed. it Trot; the laugh of passers-by Japed, lilte a ; discord in some mournful tune, But worried not hir slumbers. He was dead. 4itsitit Paging. how a 'Little Boy can ,Bie. Little Dawson was just completing his ninth - year,liben Gad took him to -dwell % With himself in heaven. Would you like- 1 to , know how it was? I mill tell you; for God may beintending to call some of the little-readers of this narrative thus early to himself. fle'liad been sick about a- month mithAyphoid - fever, when his friends saw that , mina, die. I. loved to visit him, ail to ` kne4ilovin and:pray with him, and to point him - to Jesus, and he had in health sought theliear:Sitviour and prayed for his blessing. giYa up - `04s beaugtil. yorfd., and his dear parekts. " Poor mother," he said to me, "it will break.h;er .41*. . Roar ..Frank, he will be so lonely, have no one to play with him." 7 Thus he thought more of the com fort of othe,kiban even of , his own. When his -fatheintold him that he •could not live, he lOW - ea moment,, and then said :" I Oafraid -o ; 4p', jutt not afraid - after death:" ne morning I was called about four o'kicpritillylaiVhim, for , he 'He hid disposed ill,his little .treasures; lie had asked the ftiekds atonna' the bed to pray for himi-lind- lie. had prayed earnently ittinkWhifore_r_arrived. , Boon be seemed to be sinking, as irfin censdions of ourpresende; and 'complained 'His lather replied, "When it seems light, let us know." Ile said, "I I can speak." In a short time 'hcsaitr, 'I see a :little light iu the distance," and .in a moment added, "•It grows brighter nnw." Then he was silent for, some timed and afterwards 'said, " Pa, there.ii an. evil` spirit in. the way, I can't. gilt,(;krig*ii. he hi - trying " to drive me, back; what - shall I do, , pa?", father replied, " Caine' Jesus ;" he prayed, and soon, said, "I have . got by him, and left him behind, seethe* way is bright and Clear." After . a short,time he seemed to be ap proaching the river of death, ocncerning which reed in Christian'sjourney, and he said, " There is the river, how dark it looks, how deep . it is In silence, with gaslifug breath, he seemed to enter its waters. "It grawedeeper," he cried, shod- " dgringt. "Call on Jesus, luriiiirbee,' , Yek,in his arms, and carry you ikhishostit. 4 % Turning his teed to we, he het consider me, one of his little childrek?". I assured him that he would. Aftetirlittle,silenee, he said, "There he ist book in his hand; there is the otlfeblidieiWthe river; it' s not so deep new t " , Soon , after he lidded, "There is grandpa, wilihelp me." We boweitbr prayer 'around his bed, and when we had endedilegave.us a cheerful and happy good-by. " Pk," he added, " - you wibpeet.mnin heaven; mother, you will meet Tell . Pranky to meet me, tell gralidnia' tell them all, tell Hester. " Moth er, yot4ifiliel46Vidigtit me, will you?" , 114468tddrfoi- a' little while'quietly, and then -seemed, to,rhat,ocsalinuing his journey heavenward., "Pa,". likeaid, "the hill is ateepithei steps are long, and I am so tired. witaedo for me to stop_ and rest ?" His fatiorresici, ". Press on!'": -In a few ino-, manta he said, "I` see angels with flowers' in their hands." Hiefegegba.morp,..:iegibrtft Li iepase, andoliblubrealk more - feeble. We `changed hie his Wiling, end fa*. momentlietigiWal9VistWuktenewey with . ~ ,4 0114 /Mt z Fr out a pang or a struggle or a sigh, he passed away so gently, that none of us could mark the ending of mortal sufferings, or the beginning of immortal joy.—Examiner. The mother's work is never done, unless God takes it from her by a special provi dence, until her children are old enough to stand and to act for themselves on the stage of mature life. From the birth of her oldest to the maturity of the youngest, she must work, work, work, watch, watch, watch, by day and by night, week in and week out, for months and years, following each other in long succession. We speak not of maternal : work,; of the labor of the hands to supply the wants of the physiCal nature; the answering of, "What shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and where withal shall we• be clothed r' Money can accomplish all this, if we have it; and if not, we will not sigh, nor, fret, nor covet;. for the 'heart-work, the solicitude of 6:goo& mother fora virtuous and honorable char eater in her children, ivaiks - rforth.,with-a bolder, steadier step by the side of .frugal'.: ity and dailY labor, than, it is apt ta do if, separated from - them. It-is a well known fact, that almost all the true greatness, the .nOble virtues, the heroism which the world has seen, .h6-9_, arisen from. the lap -of obscurity,'.poverty and toil. But the work to which we now refer is that Which. every Mother, whether rich or poor, whatever_ the advantages or disadvantages of her circumstances may •be, is required by the most sacred and rigid' obligations to achieve—the assiduous culti-' nation of the inner nature, of that whieh, makes the true man or woinan, that which shall live forever. and ever: - For this shti must be always* her post, with , IRO'W so much As a 'recess from her ,maternal ;Care, and solicittidertoiling on, breaking nithe ground, sowing the seed, training the ten der ",.,plant, enriching the soil, 'watering, nourishing, _stimulating every- good-. and pleasant- grewth, until the flowers begin to bloom, and the fruit to ripen. Then comes a heyday of enjoyment, of rest and dam - - fort to the mother, in the golden Autumn of her life, when, surrounded by a group of affectionate, dutiful;Virtiione 'and noble sons and daughters; she sits among them in beautiful repose—her face radiant in'the glow of her own heart's ever-burning love, and the smile of heaven as "a bale of light _about her head—a spectacle to be admired and envied of, all. But this Reason orcom fort, this "Indian Summer" of maternal life, never, never comes to, those who,evade their responsibilities, foreike their treat and leave their ,work ;for, others , tolde, for the sake Of personal ease, sensuous indul gence, or selfish gratification. The very thing they seek, they lose by a lamentable and hopeless mistake, verifying the words of our. Lord, "Whosoever will save his life shall lase it; but whosoever shall lose his lite for my sake, the same shall save it!' Husbands, Scold Your Wives. Contrary to the injunction .of Paul, some; men'(?) 'think that their wives require a good deal of scolding and threatening to make thein gentle and submissive. Now, let;me `tell you,,yeung husbands, don't you believe ft., All the scolding you could produce would' never make your wife gen tle, subrniSsive, obedient, or kind. But on the contrary it would have a tendency to create a spirit 'of wilfnlbess, hardness of heart, and finally to crush out the last spark of, love, or'. even respect for the man who was once dearer to her than her .own life, and for whom she has. left home, friends, happiness, all, .and risked all again for and with you. Shame on the man who would, with words.of unkindness and looks betokening a thunder etorm, trample upon the rights, liberties; and affections of her whom he has promised to love, cherish, and protect. Shame on him who would wish to keep his wife ender'subjection, merely be cause he holds -the place of hustand, and knows tliiiishe is bound by the laws of . God and State (or man) to submit to him. He who would treat the partner of his life as though she were 'his inferior, does not de serve a place in society, nor his name on a church book. You scold your wife, do you ? Could you take no better plan for caring her of her faults ? Try some other plan.. You have tried - scolding for one; two, five,' or" pethaP.s ten years, and what have you done ? Why I.would venture to say. that your - Wife is a crazier woman than when you first married her. She talks more about, you to her relatives; answers you in tones more harsh; loves you less than she did7the first year you married her. And can you blame her ? Suppose iewere vice versa. Could you love the wife whom you constantly dreaded ? Again I say, try some other method: There is a little remedy I know of which I believe will,enre'everyfault a wife pos sesses. It cures laziness, untidiness, peer ishness,uomplaitung, pride—in fact, it is au infallible,ramody for everything which constitutes the poor wife: It is kindness. You must leave off your scolding, and let your wife see that you love her too well to even look scolding, and persevere in it, and with God's help, and your own perse verance, you will be astonished- at. thu change you have made. . -Scripture Teachings. "Honor thy, father and thy,mother.":—Ex.-20. The four commandments which we have been examining teach us: our ditty'to God; the Rik others, which God wrote on a:second table of stone; te.ach its our . duty . -to roan; that is, to everybody.. To, honor your par ents is to'love them, and to prove your lovi to them, by yielding them prompt and cheer ful obedience; to do all that you can ler their comfort and happiness, giving them cause to be glad when they see you ,or think of you. Every other relation grows out of the parental one—your aunt is your aunt, because she, is the sister of your father. or mother, your brother is your ; 'brother, be cause he is the child of Jour father and mother—therefore this commandment ex— tends not only to fither and mother, but to all relations, requiring you to treat allvith the honor dile to their age`and station. You are not to yield to a brother or sister of nearly the, same , age as yourself, the same kind of honor that you should give to your parents; but if you' are unkind lo that brother or sister, you. break this. soititnatid ment. 'Again, any' person that'll; older and wiser than you , .1s in one sense parent,,and Aot, giving honor to inch a one is a Violation of this command: Paul'fregnentlYlcalls Tim othy his son, because he instiveted hiteaid loved him; and was older thin he.-2 Tim., :2, 2 Tim. ii :1, and in other places., And he enjoins upon Timothy (1 v 1,2) to treat the older men and women as fathers and mothers. There is a promise given to those who, keep this commandment. When this cote, =lament Was handed down, it, as.*rell as the others, wasi, especially for the children of Israel, abdlhn, land in .which ;the„ (leis of obedient ebiltlren wave toliptioug.ogpoff EEC The Task Completed. = M =MI PRESBYTERIAN BANNER-WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1863. was the land of Canaan. But I think that it applies no less to children of this day and this country. For a child who honors his parents, will lead such a course of life as will promote health and cheerfulness and consequently long life; and it is a blessed thing to live in' this world, not for the little. end of mere selfish enjoyment, but .for ,the noble object of glorifying God by doing good. But if God, in his all-wise previ= dence, should grant you bit a short life" this world, the promise still holds good; for if you have loved him with• all yourkeart, your days will be long—will be eternal in the promised land, the 'heavenly Canaanl, God grant it for the - dear Saviour's sake; in whose strength alonewecatrdiritygrredl thing.—Episcopal Recorder. Mothers and Children. Few things,areppre_painfui.to look lip op, than , the self-renuneiatiOn,:the;.,,aelf-ab, negation of .inothers-,painful both: for: its testimony and>ita :prophecy. Its testimony `is of 'irref-oiiie;``Over-work,sfiiier4eariness I.s ..orkf the-abuse of capaeities ; that .wAre hetstowild • for most sacred uses, - tm -uifrorkiwAte4of 34ost i , pure and'iiving waters.,;. Its4prophecy7is of earlY -decline fdecadenCei iforfeittifd: of,pusition an ii6Wef, and I ,Wured than all," .1;4 aticflrieVous wrong to the, children, for whom alLia. se- To maintain her rank nor exertion "great, no meinstcio'sinall.'''PreiKolitie;,6f• the Most'Obviend dimes:to' ji.elitild.`!,-Ifp, f the mother wears cheap or slit;.bbYdar-ill-u sort- : ed,cluthes,,while,the_children,s,are.fine.and.. harlikalious, .it is iMpossible. , that they should not receive-thelimpressio)khat they are of more conseireieriete !thin Weir moth. er. Therefore,_ for her children's sake, if not for her - ain,.the mother slionld always be well-dressee 4 lleiblb`y,'lm far as it is concerned in thelnatieVinstead of being an exctise for a faded .bonnet should be an. inducement for a fresh one. It is not a question of riches, and poverty a thing of relations. ° lt is simply tlaal the mother's dreiti—her morning - and evening ) , and street andµ church dreesshOtild quite as; , good, and ifklhenvis any differ ence, better than, her child's., It, is.of, manner of , consequence bow a ' ehlld,is ' cla°il; provided only its health be naiinjured, its taste Corrupted, or its self-resPeetWounded.. Children look' prettieriiri the , cheapest'and isimplesf, materials, thanqn..therieheat and most elaborate, But hoW,comnion to see the children caperzsaniein , iiilk and feathers and flounces, while the,nlothei is enveloped in au Atmosphere of-Ccittddy fadinessl,,Dne,would4akeothe.ohildotc..be , mistress and the moitier a servant. : .!,f...8ut," the mothersays, ";',1!,d0 not stem:or:dress, and Caroline &sea, - She;fotor k ehildfVould be mortified not to be dressed like the oth er children." Then do you, teach ,herybep ter. Plant' in her mind a higher-standkrd of self-re.spect: A4d be,: sonobly, 4n4: womangrandly a that she shall ,lave faith, in you. ---Gail Iramilton in the,:Attanile. Tice Women. of 411expdria: • The Rev. Gilbert Haven, in .a leiter to Zion's Herald.; says:, " The streets are as full of women as" iii European towns. Exit.,theu. guise clis. guise, is slightly otherwise, : „;4 1 hey„,..vrear robes: and, mantles. The last .fall everthe bank from the top -of the' head. - '-tinder this is to elOserfitting drawn over' the forehead: -- A piece of blank,,crepe half a yard long and a quarter to half.wide, is connected-with the cap-by three wide.rings ; gold or brass, as the purse of the wearer enables. This hangs ,over , the nose„ and Month; and doWn the - Light mental chains ,are.attached to its upper edge,. probably] partly 10f - ornament and partly to keei'thi!orso ,Thus all but the eyes is concealed; with a small rim around sufficient to show the complex imicef .the lady. i-This is the universal dress;'.varied god's and colors: - The poorer,' classes 'Mize ehiakli . and mantles and blank veils as their working apparel. They sometimes wear white and black, redand.blue„.hut gencrally ) Folors of low forte. Tlie,,peoreat, W't)men,their work sometimes drop the veil, so that ,not unfrequently the whole — face - is disclosed. Their beauty does conXincefialofitheifie cessity of the, concealment-fiE.tha, others. The stately dames of Cairo 'seem to enjoy their' promenades • through the streets — in this array as faced,sis tars tha'-13mileiraide and - Their black Mantles; 'White veils, :' yell* slippers, give , a Striking etet t,''Ohich glitterin cf. 'Audi eyes, lookiigkeenly, out. of their windows, do:not afall- diminish." ~etiC While the gastric juice - has -fund; bland; sweetish- taste,- it possesses the power of digesting the'liardest food" that= can be swallowed. It has no- influence whateier On the fibres of the living animal; but - at - the'lunment • of death; irtiegititt'tei eat them away with the power of the strongest acid. There is dust nti sieadd the_valley and en_the mountain tep—thern is - dust aliyays and every - where, The r _af r Ino4lloels full of it. Ik4tenetrates the_ n - ` n •*tvi a 't:' noisome tinge!) ,an vuu a eepe s darkest caves of the - ,.earsll.. No .I palace door can Shut it out ;, nOdraiOr: 8044 as to escape its presenCe: Bverylbreath, of wind dashes it; upon the open eye; ;Which yet is not blinded,'because there--is tain- of•thetblandest nature-ineeat• sintly emptying itself under the eyelid, ,:which spreads itself over .the surface of the eyeball, at every' winking and-veashes every atom of dust away. This liquid, so well adapted to the'eye itself, has some acridity, under ; certain Circtit'instir4s, )te r , comes so decided as to-be scalding to the skin, and rwould rot griWaythil ey'elid's; irere fit not that along 'the edges 'theiethein are little oil' irtinifa#cirintl,";.lo4lopread .over their surface it''eoating impervious to :the liquids necessary:for -tkeeping , ,the . eyebitihtiwashed clean, asltheitest arnish is impervious'to water:;'' The breath which' Haves the 'lungsjiati been so perfectly divested' of its life-giving properties; that to re-breathe it, :unmixed with other air, the-inoment it escapee 'from the mouth,-would cause' itumegitite 'Oath by suffocation ; if 'it ,hOv6redi'ilhOut us, a more or less destructive influence over health would s.be occasioned., t Bat it .ifE l made of a nature so much lighter than the common air, that the moment eseailes the lips aid- nostrils it'ascends gtons, above the breathing_ rune, there to be rectified; renovated. and multi's* again, replete witlypurity - andlife.''''HOw rapidly -it ascends is beautifully exhibited any flosty ,porning. Buf 'foul and deadly as the'e4Pired is, nattire-i--' enotioifireall - hitintbi wort 'and ways—tuiiii it :toLlieticr-VAiik „ . p'7, tilt a. 41 - .. 0 tANOO,I.O tuffEng EME MUM 1111l'eli::61:..i4in: in the outward passage through the organs. of voice, and makes of it the whisper of love, the soft words of affection, the tender tones of human sympathy, the sweet strains of ravishing music, and the persuasive eloquence of therfinished orator. If a well-made man be extended On - the ground, his arms at-right angles with his body, a circle, Making the naval. the center, will just take in the head, the finger ends and the feet,. The distance from " toe to toe," is precisely the same as that'between the tips of the fingers when the arms, ; are extended. The length of the body:is just six: times that of the foot;. while the die- ' taneefrom the edge of the , thair on the fore head to the end of 'the chin is'one-tenth'of the length of the whole taCtire • .OS-thcsi;ty-two primary ; elemeata known' in nature, only are 4bund-in the Inman - body, and ofthese; seven Are Metal- Iron is foliUd in:the'tblogo ins in 'the biain; Milestone, in .the, bile; Hine: in the:bOnes • d tand ashes in all. Not .onlY:these eighteen , buniair elements, but the mil* siorty-two, of which the uni veisb'itrmidelhaye their w eaSentiatbasisin thus four_ fhilistanCeexygen,, Ihydrogen, :n4s4ge l l and carbotH-7represen dap the: more. , familiar :names efifire i watekialtp - Ster!ane Chrircoatl And '''such ilio"lOr!For, the 'ol'll4-* siVirk of, ire a drop of water;; 4. T .,guy powder-44i atom et:onsr - But, looking atlim iii,another Ode - `elements shadow forth the' hi'gher`' .61 existence : In .thai'sPark is. the calorie: Nvtitib,§peake of irrepressible • activity ;:.in that: drop is . the , iwater which". speakiglif purity; ,in that grain zsltliei`foTeV,hjr , I T , ie. be subdues thiAs. 'AO iiiinself- r m'alies . CreVia?AtC4 and the servitor of likpleasores ; while in and atom of cliarral,,thFc4a a diamond, which speaks at onesOf and p i nrity.: or itidatiiietihere is`i W*A7e S til:P*l-isTPit*-1 purer than, i.49.04e3y4r0p.,, .I‘l4lclth - ,and kustl.l corruptAt trot;, nor, , canwordinary fires destropitv , whilelt.tints its-way thititergbliisa,'abeficfainaiti'and haideit, steel. In that light we see - an eternal pro gression toward - ,oniiiirereneeTin that puri ty, the good of-€D vine' U'ititA.; in that in destructibility any nimortaL-existebee; in that: pro&ess,V steady aeceitSion IZWard: the; borne tecti. 111THE1123 IBM= ,-.1- i , is •i., 1 ii 1,,,.... gtg ~.1 .. --titilitlital+ Experiment& in Deep Plot%tin& The soil of my farm is a clayey loam, resting on `a ice naoiou`s.sub ' ~sail which '' p`asaes off. _the autplus water _too slowly, for= a healthy;vegetation dn. a wet season. Two years - ago I bought' one of - Star= buck's subsoil ploughs, foe=the',furpose mitklugalt:'experimipt iu deeP.,ploagbing,, I ',operate ono. Pairy Of horses ; using the Yeekskillr, plough. , No. 225 , gituging3 it . six inches for the first; or sod L furroiii, following this with- the-subsoil plough at a gauge of eight inches,; making fourteen inches . , , ploughing ...large lands i and alleYaitit4pleuglis every, rourid. ~-• Last year :I look a 'field of, five, acfpsi . aid plodglied4nelalk plitUkh : done . going twee the,, same furrow! at .;a:six inctu,gange,,,making twelve' inches in all:, I v did nOti Perceive any diffefatife - iklhe, crops this year on the 'Paris `" differently` worked. The subsoil - plough - is quite nar row, and does not stir:the-earth as wide as the first plottgb.puts, poyrdoes it -bring any of daifOrrovelto the surface. In workiug - with the Peekskill plOtigh, - r did tiprdepiii4te ,rwro 3 v, till after alone,l` Pej..two ; so.dlerrims:• The outer edge of, the • third..' sod-Ffur'row;:and. so= the whole'of the , piece;falls into the deep:lo.: rows and MYP; not flat,, at, 16404Yrcf,ilegress,end,„the second or sub!' fitt j y,ow, is turned over on , : the , -sed ;fur. row ; so that when the '41(1 sis - done it :will present "Alternate layer's . of 'sod , 'a11:413 . 0441 furroWs: ' - Thafre - obiter'Fid on CrOssLplonghing land plettibed: as I -have i , describedv: that Tit ;re=.quirea less strength °fits.= .to'-14origh certain' depth than . bah - we: do:all 01 shard and anNeil - flotighing, 1n the"g4l'foT, two reasbnS. Fink have i,rnOre ;time. to do it, and the tieathey - is corder and better adapted fpr„emynrlsiitex,•,, , lSecO_p444le ac tion of th i e:Trorie and winds Of Winter and Spring icive better 'aiiiidittim to ,work in , the 4ring• crop 114 - „SPring; plonghrug lb;these,two ways.,l2have cub tivate4 thirty : - acres, ,fifteen of-jt, the': past Autamn., I have not' pursued the itbdie exPeri, atiekiii long etionglii, l o give; an t opinion 'based on actual ..results _ it , take sev eral yearn te...do : it. Vegetation -requires air; ;light;' heat; and • water, in certain ,pro portions, to 'insure a goOtt..prop, i ,and 'any excess: di i#VAttOn'i:li•*4 .44940 , at . ", eiop. Deep ploughing will .aid' the 'drainage frenr , thersurface, gi=ve afree.eireulation of Air the itiose earth, and! terry:With ' The under stratum...of earth thrown up by deep ploughing pay po,t ? he of; immedi ate.benefit. Vieri observing farmer has noticed the-earth throwiri‘ip,frontrieer: :affei,l4i4,WiirinisAhy thCsan Jo :fanned*. "by tlie`wind , loosenedlithe frontsol' Win ter, and after absorbing nutritious gases from the atmosphere, Wilms become- productive. The above , reascns.salisfy that:deep .ploughing will givei.a3 deeper t soil, with fertility of the soil moved.' by the' nr-: dinarY'depth Nor is it.rea 7 sonable 16' suppose that earth that mained since tgthe flood," unmoved, will in ten decades ,heporne compae,.and want re-sub soiling. hair() ,experiniente4 I F . referp to use =one:Plough l eentinuouslyi beiimeasi, er for , the team,: less , parplexifig.le the: I)longhinare; , cand Mere •effeetuallt `I".P the earth. the kahreertif gPfigluk I would state thierWaiiredd'e'd'faat Fill'to try one & Ocr's steel: P media( Igoe I was then plough ; `, • ingAinppit of Talk that was <