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~" tlic Canraster CcDacr. iO 1^1^* I? A IV NT F T \f Turn to the Pr?w?ilk teeming Miccls Mirvey, ? XT A i\*r i . m 1. Citi it \J J.T4. Big with ilie wonden of eiteli |iaw*ins <tii). A^l Jl)^ANCyl^ 5 /amilji ana jtaliiicnl j8tuis|ia|itt?Slraotrii la ll)t Arts, ititntts, tittrntart, fiintatian, Ajritallart, Salttual 3mptuufuitiils, /amp aua j'oturair >itius, nuii ii|t jtiuiktis. VOLUME V 1 I I . LANCASTER C. H, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOV, 23,.1859. * MI M rrr a7 irtnl ^optrq. A Farmer's Son^Wu envy uot the princely man, In city or in town, Who wonders whether pumpkin vino* linn up the hill or down ; . Wc care not for his marble halls, ...< LI- I l> ? -1 J i nn JICI ma NCIips I'l g<HU, We would not own his sordid henrt For all his wenlth thrice told. We art the favored ones of earth, We breathe pure air each morn, We sow?we reap ttiu golden grain? We gather in the corn ; We toil, we live on that we earn, And more than this we do. We hear of starving millions round, And gludiy feed them, too. M ho lawyer lives on princely fees, Yet drugs n weary life, He never knows a peaceful hour? His atmosphere is strife, The merchant thumbs bis yard stick o'er, Grows haggard at his toil; He's not the man God meant him for? | Why don't lie till the soil ? The doctor plods through storm and cold, i Plods nt his patient's will; When dead and gone he plods again To get his lengthy bill. The printer (bless his noble soul,) He grasps the mighty earth, And stamps it on our welcome sheet, j To cheer the farmer's hearth. We sing the honor of the plow, And honor of the press? Two noble instruments of toll. Willi each a power to bless, The bone and nerve of this fust age. True wealth of human kind? One til! the ever generous earth. The other tills the mind. i>flerteii jHunj. From Arthur's Home Magazine, FORGOTTEN DliTV. HV T. 8. ARTHUR. 'Mother !' No answer. 'Mother! Mother, I say !' Tl?o lady who was sewing upon a child* garment, <li<l not seem to hear the roice. | *M >ther !* .'I'llh tone had grown impa i tient. 'Mother! Mother! Mother !' And now added to an imperative voice were a pair of small Iimik!?jerking at the lady's arm. And so attention was con attained. 'What do you want I' now exclaimed the mother, half angrily, an ?l>e let her ] hands fall upon her lap, and looked with knit brows upon her Intlo annoyer. 'Can't I go to Aunt Jane's to-morrow.' 'No, you cannot. There, now. move ; away, and don't trouble tne any more.' 'Say, Mother! Can't I go to Aun't Jane's to-til Of-row ? I haven't been there for ever so long a time, and I want to go so badly." Didn't I say no!' The lady frowned severely. Hut the child still lingered by her mo ther, who, being loo busy to attend to L Jier any further, pushed her firmly aside. ' .and bent down again over her work.? I Not three unnutes passed before the cry, ! 'Mother!' wt. rioging through the apartment again. As before, there was ??o response. Mother ! Mother !' j Still no answer. 'I say, Mother, why don't you auswer when I speak ! An angry spot was burning upon the child's fsce, aud her tones were anything but filial. 'Anns,' said the lady, looking up from | her work, and addressing her child in an offended voice. 'Do you know (o whom you are speaking f 'Why don't you answer me then !' 'Hud. this instant ! You impudent Uittle girl; how dare you V And there was an upward movement of the lady's Land, as if she were tempted lo inflict a blow. Somewhat frightened at the tbrealed consequence, Anna re treated from her mother, who again bent over the sewing in her hands. And what was the work which so absorbed her at- j lention that she had no ears for her child ?that the word "mother," found no quick echo in her heart f We answer, a piece of elaborate embroidery, designed for a garment to adorn lite body of this very child. There was to be a little one's par- ! ly at a neighbors, and Anna having received an invitation, her mother, inure in pride than true affection, had undertaken to embroider for her a skirl and body to be worn on the occasion. The pattern was very rich, snd took more time for its eiecution than she had at firnt thnuulit would b? required. Many home dutiea were neglected for he aabe of tliia piece of ceedle work ; aacred borne duties, that can never lie omitted without wrong. The baby, not eo well an usual, had been permitted to lie for hour* fretting in its cradle, when it should have been nestling upon ita iivothera bovom; and worse than that, the mind of the cnild, for the adornment of whoae body the elegantly wrought gar-' , ,n^ - -- -j .fc rfc ment was intended, had received many disfiguring mark*. There had been inat tention to lier requests, neglect of her wants, and angry repulsion when she had intruded those wants too impatiently. As the garment grew in beauty under | the mother's skillful hauls, fretfuloess, impatience, anger, and disobedience were doing their evil work upon her soul. For nearly two whole days, every thing had been neglected for this bit of vanity; and the greatest sufferers were the cliil i dren?baby and Anna. Yet, so absorb ed was the mother in her work, lliat she had only a dim perception of her error. She did not, of course, escape the jar of j discord that ran in disturbing pulsations I through her household, and so her own J o..t i - ? - - * " j,.... ?jn\ lO'UIIJ 1% lllumillU Of Kelt |10H session. Lijlit chuw'r disturbed her ; lit tb> annoyances fretted her beyond control; i even lliu smallest obstruction in the cur ' rent of her thought Rent the hot blood to ' her cheek* and temple*. Her husband felt, and was made unhappy by the change in Iter temper. Her domestics were chafed by her impatient way of i speaking to them ; and we have already seen something of the effects produced on one of her children. Little Anna, after being repulsed and \ threatened, retired to a distant part of 1 the room, and. crouching down in the cor ner remained silent during a long time. ! The baby, after having fretted in the era' die for half an hour, lost itself in sleep. ' And so the mother worked on in peace, I greatly to her satisfaction, the rich flowers growing into form ami beauty under her skillfull fingers, and spreading them M'lvAH Otbr flu* rfurmanl ting for her child. Ami what of the child now f She had driven her ?wav angrily, ' ix little while before ; end since that time she had neither heard her voice, nor tlie ' sound of her footstep. All at once a thought of Anna came ho distinctly into her consciousness, tharshe looked around quickly to see if she were in the room. 'Anna!' she called. Hut there was no . reH>' 'Anna!' I he si.etice of the apartment ; gave her heart a strange feeling, and lay 1 ing down the garment upon which she was at work, she aros". 'Anna !' site called again, as her eyes rested up n the form of her little one ly- | ing upon the llov>r. Passing over quiek'y she slopped ami caught the child in her arms, repealing her name over and over as she did so. Hut Anna was fast asleep, and did not answer So she laid Iter up { on the sofa, and hent over her with a ten der, \ earning emotion at Iter hear1. And now the unusual redness of Anna's checks attracted her attention, ard she p aced her hand upon the soft flesh, nervously. It was above the natural heat. Sin-caught up one of the little hands ea gerly. Its burning touch sent a shudder of fear through her bosom. .viniH, near i aiimh . r>ne lanl tier j lips close to the child's enr, and called her n one tenderly ; but tins door of hearing sleep bad barred against the entrance of even a mother's voice. And now she j renieinberred with painful distinctness, how she bad repulsed and spoken atigri lv to the little one, and she saw again the < look of fear that shadowed her face, as she raised her band threateningly, bears | came into ber eves, filled them, and rail down over ber cheeks. Through this blinding rain, she sought to read the signs on Anna's countenance ; but all she could see there tended only to augment her fears. The liillo brow seemed contracted ilieie was a nervous ut.sle olmess about the lips and eye-lashes; the breathing was lieavv. and the chest labored. 'Anna, dear, apeak to mother! Speak mother, darling !' Hut Anna only mourned and worked ! her mouth in a strange, unusual way. H Mi, I wish Henry would come home !' sobbed the mother to herself, giving way lili further to the excitement of alarm. 'This chdd is v. ry ill, I am sure. Oh, what can ad tier !' There came now tlie sound of a closing door. Then a manly tread wns lieaid in (lie passage below. 'Father! Henry ! I* that you F The mother called, breathlessly. 'Yes, Kdiih. Hut what is the matter f' And tliV husband and father, startled by her tones, came hurriedly up the stairs. 'Oh, Henry, I'm so glad you've come home,' said his wife, as she grasped his arm, 'What has happened !' His voice was iikXh.Iv srwl I... f...~ ? - .lio.l..l- ?i J, .... ."vo I 'I'm no frightened about Anna.' 'About Anna !' 'Yea; she's lying in a heavy stupor, and her rkin is like fire ; see !' and she drew him to the tufa upon which the little|girl was lying. Mr. Lewis stooped over his child and laid bis baud against her cheek. 'She has a burning fever,' said his wife, anxiously. Mr. Iv*wis did not reply, but took one little wrist between his Angora, and searched for the pulse. He was sliil and silent for nearly a minute. 'How long has she been in this way (' he inquired. with a betraval of alarm in his voice. 'I found her a?leep on I lie floor, junl now, and tried to waken her. Oh dear, Henry, what can it l?e f' The word* scarlet fever were in tier thought, hut she dared not give them ut ' lemnce. 'It may be nothing serious,' replied her husband, 'but it wilt be safest to cull in , the doctor immediately. I will carry her over to our room. You bed better un-. dree* and place her in bed while I go for our physician.' Aa Mr. Lewis lifted the child in his j ertns, she moftped end fumbled be; lunula about bur throat, as if there were a sense of pain or constriction there. 'Oli, Ilenry ! go quickly! I'm so <iis- j tressed !' urged the mother, as soon as ( Anna was laid upon the bed. 'Tell the doctor, if you find him in, that he must i come immediately. Don't let hiin put i you oil' with a promise to come soon.? ! Bring him back with you.' Mr. Lewis hurried away, and Mrs. Lew j is, after undressing Anna and laying her in bed, went over to the sitting-room, from ! i whence there now came the fretting cry i of baby, who had awakened from a brief j I slumber. 'My proc'ous one!' exclaimed the mo- i llier, as she hugged her child, almost wildly, to her heart. 'Mv orecious one V Then she fell of her baby's baud, and 1 touched ils soft cheek, fur signs of fever, i but they were cool and moist An eino ! ! lion of thankfulness throbbed in her heart, i 1 And now her eyes rested on the garment j 1 upon which she had been at work for ; 1 more than two days. An accusing spirit 1 was at her ear hinting of neglect. The | 1 suggestion disturbed her profoundly.? ; Gradually the truth dawned upon her mind, growing more ami more distinct every moment. For the sake or gratify- | ing her motherly pride in the adornment I of her child's body, she had not only j turned away from that child, and hurt j her gentle spirit by unkindness, but she i bail so neglected Iter as not to mark the ! signs of approaching disease until the j hand of fever was upon her. 'God forgive ine!' she said, solemnly, while a shudder passed along her nerves. ! 'My weak heart was overtaken by folly, I but v isit me not so feat fully. Ob, spare, j spare my child !' The physician came, and Mrs. L.3wis ; watched every changing expression of his n?.iimi nuiiji anxiously on iii? words.? His ieplie? to the mothers question* were brief, ;iiid evidently guarded, while in her ex es his countenance wore an unusually j serious aspect. *1 xxill call agaiu to.night,' said he, on I going a xx ay. How the words smote upon her heart. 'Again to-night!' Then there was indeed danger !' Ily this time Anna's fever had greatly increased in violence, and she moaned and tossed about restlessly. The medicine left by the doctor did not seem to j make any impression. There whs rather J an exacerbation than an abatement of j the worst symptoms. Towards ten o'clock the doctor called ! again, lie came in with a serious, pro- I fessional air, and sat by the bedside without speaking. After feeling the child's pulse, he bent over and examined Iter skit:. I - it scarlet fever. 1 >octor V The voice of Mrs. Lewis was husky ! and tremulous. She held her breath, I waiting for an answer to her question. 'It may lax only a mild case of scarlet i rash,' replied the doctor. Hut there was j evasion in me tones <>l his voice, hikI the Hiixious mother was not deceived. 'Continue the medicine as before. I will see her eaily in the morning.' And with nothing inore to encourage ; tlieir fearslricken liearts, the father and motlier were left for the night with their sick child. Neither slept lor there was no abatement of fever, and the little suf ferer cried or moaned, or threw herself restlessly about through all the weary hours, until day dawn. When the doc tor next came, he made no Attempt at concealment. A1! the signs were clear. It was a case ofscarlet'ua, ami bv no means a light one. Unhappy mother! Ail her soul was! filled with terror. Naturally of a tender and loving nature, her heart had becoin6 bound up in her children, and the thought of losing this one, her first-born, pierced her with sharpest anguish. Alas! if this had been all. Hut never fi ?r u I I -I - .1 - - ..Mucin, nniin nuo Liiru^v HSIM8 U10 memory of her unkindnes* and neglect? ! of the sharp, angry repulsion with which she had driven her child away, when,suf* ! fering from the encroachments of disease, ami in a state of consequent irritation of mind and body, she had sought her care and attention. How many times, during the next five or six days of anguish and suspense, did she steal away to some se ! eluded place, and, bending tearfully in j prayer, ask that her child might not be I taken from her. 'Oh! spare her, Heavenly Father? I spare her this time! l>o not take my child and leave my heart borne down with t a double weight of sorrow and self repro vat." J 1 l lii# was the burden of her oft repeated . prayer. The richly embroidered garment in which h?r mind had become so much interested as to cause her to forget, for I ] the time, the real wants of her children, t 1 was hidden away The sight of it rebu 1 ked her as with stern words. Rapidly the disease ran its course, and j 1 little Anna was hroinrht. to th? brink nf the river of death, her while feel bared < to go down into the darkly flowing wa '.era. Art! still, from the mother's heart, 1 went up the almost wildly uttered prayer, i Oh, spare me my child ! Spare me I ray child !' At last the long suapense was over, the I struggle with disetut* ended, and the utt < conscious one lay whita and still befuro the hushed weepers; not still in death, | hut in the calm of exhausted nature, for I life yet lingered about the heart, and crept along the veins in feeble currents. 1 'The crisis is past ; there is hope.' It was the physician who spoke, bend ing, as be did to. to the mothers ear.? I She <1 id not start, nor answer, but stood I motionless for an instant, and then fell > forward upon the bed, lost for a time to I all tbat was passing around her. I * Hack from the liver of death, down into the waters of which iill'ie Anna's feet were about passing, came the belov- j ed child to her mother's eager arms ; and I = as she lay, in slow convalesence, day af terday, upon her bosom, the promises ol j wiser consideration of her in the future j were over and over again renewed. An 1 I ' these piomises were kept. If, at any j lime, she was tempted to fyrget them, ' memory Iih<1 only to take Ficr hack to I j those dnvs ami niahls of furnt.lu U, -...i 1 suspense to give them all the power of a j * fresh resolution. ! More about Brown- i 1 The New York Tribune lis* a long let j ^ ler from a Charlestowu correspondent, ' f some paragraphs of which we extract: About Brown.?Certain Northern pa- j ' pers convey the impression of a very general belief in John Brown's safety from I execution. Brown's own ideas on the | ' subject are characteristic, lie tranquilly j f says : "I do not know tha; I ought to encourage any attempt to rave mv life. ' ^ 1 hui not sure thai it would not be better j 1 for me to die at this time. 1 am not in. I ' capable of error, and I may be wrong ; 1 1 but I think that perhaps my objects j 1 would be nearer fultilmenl if I should die. I must give it some thought." There is I . no ineincerity about this.you nay be sure. 1 Brown does not value his life; or, at least, is wholly unmoved at the prospect of losing it. He was never more firm than at this moment. The only compunctions he ! expresses are in relation to his manage inent at Harper's Ferry, by vliich he lost not only himself, but sacriti.'d bis assocn 1 ates. He sometimes says that if be had t ' pursued his original plan j| immediate | ' escape 10 the mountains, h? could never j have been taken, for he and his men had I studied the vicinity thoroughly, and knew I it a hundred times better than any of the ' inhabitants, it was, he aay?, his weak- i ness in yielding to the eutr?atics of the ! prisoners, and delaying his departure, that i ruined him. "It was the first time," are j his words, "that 1 ever lost command of, j myself, and now I am puni-lied for it." j 'lite reason lirovui has given for asking j his wife to remain away is also character- i islic. lie knows it will cause great snf j fering, and will, possibly, shatter his composure in a manner which he is resolved against, le>t his captors should esteem it an evidence of regret for what he has done. What Hkowk's Plan Kkai.i.v Was. ? I have not heard of anybody who, whatever crimes he may have attributed to Hrown, lias doubted hifc word, llere is his own account of his purpose at iiar- I per's Kerry : lie had calculated upon, and fully ex- I peeled to accomplish, a rescue of a great , number of slaves. To maintain a warlike position in Virginia, for any definite period, was not his obj- ct. The idea of his i seeing the Armony for the sake of the j weapons it contained, he will not admit. I He says he had far better weapens of bis ! own. Ilis occupying it at all was a vai J riation from his original determination.? I He liml decided to take Colonel Wash ington and tlie oilier prisoners to Harper's 1 Kerry bridge, and there to establish a j commanding position, from which he ! would insist upon ^exchanges of slaves for I his prisoners. In case he should have ' t?een dislodged, lie would have reslreated j in haste to the mountains, with the intri- 1 cacies of which he had made himself so much more familiar than the inhabitants I themselves, that he believed he could defy j all attempts to apprehend him. He had \ supposed that, after a few days of successful evasion, he would bo joined by bun ( dreds of slaves anxious to oscape, by j whose aid be could have perfected arrangi 1 ments for an enormous rescue. This, as ' I understand, was bis real plan. The reason of the chamm l.a ft- t > ,,v ,,,v,n that as the night of the rising was vary l severely cold, lie suddenly concluded to have the prisoners taken to the Armory, ) where they would not he exposed to the > weather, anticipating no trouble in mov- i ing off with them, in case he should not ! he able to art'ect the exchanges with ne ' groes before the general alarm should ' spread. Disappointed in this hope, lie ' had only to tight to the end. A Nkw Prisoner.?llazlelt, of Penn ; sylvania, was yesterday captured in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and was at midnight brought into Charlestown. You would ! have thought by the uproar, that a new invasion was at hand?guards running hither and thither, hotels nsaailed with merciless batterings, and altogether a hid- ' eons state of things. Haziett has nothing to say, having been instructed bv counsel to answer no questions, and give no intimation of his antecedents; and the other prisoners seem oppressed by an absolute incapability to recognize him, although called upon to identify. This prisoner is, in annearane^ tli? tnnm termined of nil thai have been brought here. Ah matters stand, bis changes to escape are not inconsiderahle. Hkows'sI'ropkrtv.? Mr Sennott, who has been formerly intrusted with Brown's interest*, intends to look up all his proper, ty that can be collected together, for the benefit of his family. Of the Sharp's ri. lies, twenty only are certain to be recov ?red, the rest having been carried off by various persons. These twenty are in the possessions of the jailor, who is anxious to hare their value made good to Brown. The tents, axes, pikes. A**., will probably be sold as soon as possible. 1 am sorry to say that Mr. Brown's little properly was seriously diminished by Mr. (rriswohl the lawyer from Ohio, who received $'i60 From his client for defending him Under the circumstances, it would be pleaaanter to know that Mr. Griswold had looked to i >ther sources for hit reward. ? # ihp'iiltural. i A Few Facts about Cotton. We hear from several parts of Africa, hat tlio growth uf cotton is proceeding vitli rapidity and measurable success, es 1 leciallv in the English colonies and their icinity. At one little town four tons I iH<1 been furnished for export, and more vhb expected from the interior. Large quantities arc to he sent to England. At he last National Fair in Liberia, it was nanifest that cotton, sugar and cotiee vould soon become staple articles of ox>ort. More than a dozen samples of cotcm wore exhibited in competition for the ireniiums ottered. Some of these were veil ginned and cleaned, and some were i >f tine texture and long and silky staple. ' specimens were gathered from trees jrown from American seed planted eight ears ago, tho same trees continuing to ' rroduce an annual crop. In ttiis partic liar, tho Africans possess an immense : idvantage over cotton growers of tliis :ountry. Other specimens were exliihi j ed produced from Amcricau see l plan- i ed last year. But tho principal lots I sere of native African cotton, accompan. ed with many pieces of native cloth, j locks and stockings. Beautiful specimens >( the latter were shown, made from the I staple of the native cotton tree, which jrows w ild in the forest, and reaches a height of eighty to one hundred feet. Suc h facts as these are well worthy the attetrion of our southern planters. It appears, also, that there is likely to he a lomesltc consumption in Africa. The Liberians are, an we have stated, making hosiery ami cloths out of the native cotton, and it was thought at tlio latest dates, that Mancestor machinery?on a small scale, probably, at first?- but still sutlicient to stimulate tlic cultivation of the staple, was about to be introduced.? Meanwhile the production of cotton in India is increasing largely, notwithstan ding the recent terrible revolt ; and the elastic capacity of Hindustan and her people, will now be more and more tried and tested annually. Steamboats are being placed on Indian rivers, and railroad building, to facilitate the Cotton transit, is being vigorously prosecuted ; and, as this system in our southern States gave astonishing impulse to its culliva lion, it must operate as potentially in se1 curing lire same result in India. In the period of fourteen years, Brazil sent an increase of fourteen million ponds to Kng land, Egypt of thirteen millions, and the import of 'other countries' rose from three millions one hundred ami thirty live thousand pounds is 1643, to eight millions in 18o7. This comparatively small item from 'other countries' was principal ly from Africa. One great cause of the impulse imparted to the cotton culture in Asia and Africa?and it is an element upon which the hopes of success in those regions are founded?is the low pric,e of labor, as compared with the co.-t ol toil in the United States. At present several of the kinds used, even in India, are of qualities 'inferior to middling1 otilv ; but progress, invention, and improvement, are ever on the alert, find a few years hence might witness a very different condition of things. Even now the lower sorts of African and India cottons are woven with due proportions of the better articles raised in the United States.? Penn&ylvunia Kiojuircr. Agriculture. Of all the sciences known to man that of agriculture is the most important, as furnishing the aliment absolutely uncus. sary for human sustenance. Its pursuit has been considered an honorable one from the remotest antiquity ; then, and utitil the last quarter of a century, it was simply an art practiced with greater success by others. The scene is now, how ever, wonderfully changed. Soils and crops are reduced to their primitive elc inents in the laboratory of the chemist, atmospheric influences are thoroughly investigated, and the farmer may know at a trifling cost how to obtain the fullest advantage from the broad acres which lie tills. This is the age of high farming; the man who works as his grandfather did is a laggard in the race. Success in agriculture can only now Lj attained by a skillful adaptation of means to ends.? Land must be dressed by the most efficient implements, and the produce of the soil skillfully garnered. Labor, both horse and manual, must he economised by steam ; and, above all, as the grandkey stone of (he arch, manure, cnrfnllv selected, must be liberally applied. This question of manuring is far from being understood even at the present moment by tne bulk of the practical farmers of mi* country; to mo majority ot them the usual analysis of soil and fertilizers are so many occult formulae. It is on all hands admitted that to farm without manure more or less concentrated,is about >\phope less a task as attempting to draw water from a well with aperforated bucket ; but until our husbandmen learn to view chemical science as a necessary and indispensaadjunct of successru! farming, thousands of rubbish will be annually sold, and tV.e fairest fields continue to bo inadequately cropped. 'I To Makr Kan Curkknt Jelly.?Put your currents in a jar in the oven, and let them remain till the juice is all out of them. To a pint of syrup add a pint of white sugar, pounded, and made quite hot. Hefore the sugar is added, boil the syrup very slowly for two minutes ; then add the sugar, and boil it ten minutes. A Crack in the Hog-Trough Some time ago a friend sent me word j that lie gave, every day, nearly twentypails of buttermilk to a lot of shoals, and ' they, scarcely improved a hit on it.? . Thinks 1, this is a breed of hogs worth ; seeing?they must be of the sheet-irou kind; so I called on him, heard him ro< I peat the mournful tale, and then visited ! the sty. In order to get a closer view of j the miraculous swine, I went into the pen and on close examination found a crack j in the trough which much of the contents I ran away under the floor. Thinks I. heri. is ili? n-i.o ..f .......1. ' ...V ? i I'W "I IIIUOU Ui I the failures and misfortunes of our agricultural brethren. When I see a farmer omitting all improvements because of a | ' little cost, selling all his good farm stock 1 to buy bank, or railroad, or mortgage | stock, robbing himself and heirs, thinkt I, | my friend, you have a crack in your hog- j trough. When I see a farmer subscribing for ! half a dozen political and miscellaneous I papers, and spending all his leisure read- 1 ing them, while he don't read a single ag- | ricultural or horticultural journal?thinks I to myself, poor man, you have got a large and wide crack in your hog-trough. When I see a farmer attending to all the political conventions, and coming down liberally with the dust on all caucus oeeations, knowing every man who votes his ticket; and vet to save his r.eck, could- I ti l ted who is i'resident of the County i Agricultural Society, or where the Fair j was held last year, I "unanimously" come to the conclusion that the poor soul lias j got a crack in his hog irougii. When I see a farmer buying guano, , but wasting ashes and hen manure, try | ing all sons of experiments except intelleetal hard work and economy ; getting ; the choicest seeds, regardless of cultiva , lion and good sense ; growing the variety j | of fruit called "hour Tart Seedling," and ' s woelenitig it with sugar, pound for pound 1 keeping tin1 front fields rich and neat, i ' while tin* back !<>ls are overgrown with ! elder, biiar.s, snap dragon, and thistle, contributing liberally to the Choctaw In ' d:an Fund, and never giving a cent to I I any Agricultural Society?such a man, I | I will give a written guarantee, has got a , ' ciack both in bis head and in his hogtrougli. When I see a farmer spending his time 1 travelling and visiting in a carriage, w hen j ' be lias to sell bis corn to pay bis hired i help, and bis hogs are so lean that they i have to lean against '.lie fence to sustain ' ! themselves while squealing, I rather leap I | to the conclusion that somebody that i >-la\- at home will have a lien on the I farm, and sometime the bottom w ill come , entirely out of the hog trough.? Orange Comity banner. l'OKTKVT OK TIIK "LlTTI.E Ol A XT." We should judge that the writer of the i following, which we clip from the Cincin* j uati Commercial, was not much of a l>ou- | g.as man. Hear turn: "Douglas belongs I by temperament ami constitution, to the i race of bullies llis proper, legitimate i i sphere's the bar room, or the prize ring, lie is just the kind of man to be tho la* | vorite of black-legs ami the iilol of bottleholders llis endowments of limb and j muscle, his compact and burly solidity of 1 form, and enormous tistic strength would have made him facile prince pi among the i Sullivans, the Morriseys, and the Heenans. ; Hut the horoscope of his fortunes was dif- | : feren'ly cast, and having settled early in I life, in a backwoods country, he was fated 1 to become a politician. In a community of little intellectual or | ! moral culture, his rise was rapid, for his I powers were just of the compass which fitted him to shine where a man of liner ! 11 '- !- 1 > ? intuic nuuiu |I?V? IKIietl. iiu possessed moderate intellectual talens, an iron will, | untiring energy, and unbounded ambition. lie rose at length, through various gra' . dations, to be a Senator of the United ' States, and with greedy eyes devouring the Presidency from a nfar. he has shap e?l every scheme, and strained every nerve to win it. The powers of Douglas as a public or- i 1 ator, are limited to a plain and inonoto- j I nous re|>etition of one idea, and a bovine j power of bellowing it to the largest au ' | dience. He is destitute alike of variety, I compass, tiuinor, pathos and eloquence. I He exhibits not a solitary gleam of genius, j I not a ray of wit, nor a spark of imaginai tion. The only element of eloquence he j ! possesses, is the vox ct preterea nihil (the 1 voice and nothing more) of Virgil. Laughter and Health. Cheerfulness is the elixir of life. A hearty laugh is more potential for health and virtue than all the portions of pill. ! hags and the creeds of all semi-infidel pulpits. t Are you unwell 1 Dangerously had ? | , Well, do you expect that health will come to you, and take possession of your tor i | hid system, as you sit communing wifh i vour blue spirits ? ! If you wisli to remain comfortable and happy "through life's restless dm,' you ' must cultivate hopefulness in vour soul. Look on the pleasant aide?not forgetting realities?''fear not, only Iwlieve." How plain and simple nature portrayal how j sho laughts in the fullness of joy. All being on earth, and in tho air, unite in one voice of the purest praise and exultation to Nature's God. Why despair ? Always with melancholy?laugh at something, anything, and nothing; but laugh. Tut a pleasant joke on your associate, and allow him to return a similar one. Laughter is a panacea for ills, bodily and mental. It dissipates gloom, lightens care, and drives paiu and the blue devils off in a hurry f Try it. Laugh, i iHlllUlCllttS. Some people in the world appear to Cud their highest pleasure in being a sort of social hyenas, gathering together and digging up the reputations of frail,"fallen men and women, to feast with greadinesa and delight, whining and howling over the loathsome repast the while, as if they felt sincerely sorry to have found corruption, when they sought for it alone.? Have we not all sins enough to make us patient, if we cannot bo charitable toward other sinners ? Yeky Conclusive.?'John.' inroiim.i , 11 dominie of a hopeful pupil, 'what is a nailer ?' 'A man who makes nails,' replied hopeful, quite readily. 'Very good. Now what is a tailor?' 'One who makes tatls,' was the equally quick reply. 'Ob, you blockhead,' said the dominie, biting his hps ; 'a man who makes tails, did you ever !' 'To be sure,'quoth hopeful ; 'if tiie tailor didn't put laiis to the coats lie made, they would all be jackets !' 'Eh ??ah !?.veh!?to ho sure. I didn't think of that. Beats Watts' logic ! Go to the top of the class, John ; you'll be a Member of Congress some day.' ' A Streak Ahead of Noah.?A dispule once arose between two Scotchmen named Campbell and McLean, upon the antiquity of their families. The latter would not allow that the Campbells had any right to rank with the McLeans in antiquity, who, he insisted, were in existence as a clau from the beginning of the world. Campbell had a little more biblical knowledge linn bis antagonist, aud asked him if the clan of McLean was he* fore the flood. 'Flood ! what flood Y said McLean. 'Ta flood that you know drownded all the world hut Noah and his lamilv nn<l his Hock>,' saul Campbell. 'l'ooh ! you and your Hood,' said MeLean ; 'my clan was afore ta Hood.' I have noi read in my Bible,' said I. anpbell, 'ta name of McLean going into Noah's ark.1 'Noah's ark '.' rotoried McLean in contempt ; 'wha ever heard of a McLean that hadna a boa't o' his ain V The Barrister and the Witness. At an assizes hold during the past year, both Judge and counsel had a deal of trouble to make the timid witnesses upon a trial speak sufficiently loud to be heard by the jury ; and it was possible that the temper of the counsel may thereby have been turned from the even tenor of its w ay. After this gentleman had gone through the various stages of bar pleading, and had coaxed, threatened and even bullied witnesses, there was called into the box a young ostler, who appeared simplicity personfied. 'Now, sir,' said the counsel, in a tone that would at any other lime have been denounced as vulgarly loud, '1 hope we shall have no difficulty in making you speak out.' 'I hope not zur,' was shouted or rather bellowed out by the witness, in tones which almost shook the building, and would certainly have alarmed any timid or nervous lady. 'Mow dare you speak in that way, sir?* 'Please zur, I can't speak any louder,' said the astonished witness, attempting to speak louder than before, evidently thinking the fault tp be in his speaking too softly. 'Pray have you been drinking this morning ?' shouted the counsel who had now thoroughly lost the last jemnant of his temper. Ves, zur,' was the reply. 'And what have you been drinking ?' 'Coftee, zur.' 'Anil what did you have in your coftee, sir f' shouted the exasperated counsel. {A sj/uh zur /' innocently bawled the witness, in highest key, amidst the roars of the whole court?excepting only the now thoroughly wild counsel, who ftunc ? ? down his brief, and rushed out of court. Western Eloquence. Gentlemen of ibe jury?can you for an instant suppose that my client here, a man that has always sustained a high depredation in society, a man who you all no you suspect and esteem for his many good qualities ; yes, gentlemen, a man who never drinks more than does him good?say a quart a day?can you fur an instant suppose that ere man would he guilty of taking a box of percussion caps ? Picter to yourselves, gentlemen, an individual fast asleep in his log cabin, with his innocent wife and orphan children by his side?all nature hushed in deep repose, and nought to be heard but the muttering of the silent 1 thunder and the noise of ibe roaring winds ; then imagine to yourselves an individuals making his way to the door like a hyena, softly entering the dwelling of the pesceful and happy family, and in the most dastarly manner abstracting a w hole box of percusshuu I Gentlemen, I will not, I cannot dwell upon such a scene. My feelings (urn from such a pieter of moral turpentine I I cannot for an instaut harbor the idea that any man, much less this ere man, could be cuiltv of committing an art nf such unexampled discretion. And now, gentlemen, alter lliie brief view of the case, let me retreat of you to make up your mind* candidly and unparlially, and ! give ua such a verdict as we might reasonably suspect from such an enlighted and intolerant body of fellow citizens? remembering, that in the words of him who fell in the battle of Bunker Hill, it is better that ten innocent men escape, rather thau one guilty should suffer. Judge, give u$ a piece of tobacco f %