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I flie faucflster Ce&pr. k *2 PER ANNUM tSaSE* IN ADVANCE I 1 .*amilj tail ^olitital i'tuispaprt?Ptontrb to tt)t Arts, Jcitatta, litrrotort. iftinrntiou, Agriculture, 3aitniiil Snipruofuimta, >ortig? aim Pomtatir Utuia, nnb Hit Bhrkrts. I VOLUME VII 1. LANCASTER C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOV., 30, 1859. NUMBER | iflert ^oftri). ! Hope. Hope is like the dawn of morning, Breaking through the misty night ; Each of nature's works adorning With u pure and holy light; J.ike the gentle evening shower fscnllYing fragrance all around, Op'ning every little flower {terminating from the ground. I-et nr, then, forever cherish Mope, to lift our hearts on high ? That our spirits may not perish, t . Or our happy dreaming* die ; That, when earthly ties are riven, And we leave this world of care, We may meet again in Heaven, Each the other's joy to share. iflrrM ftuuij. f iifin mo 4icw * urK aercurj. THE (iHOST UY OKOHOS AltSOLD. My friend, Jolm Legion, Esq., is the ^ happy possessor of a nice little property, in this Slate ; not a hundred miles from the line of the Krie railroad. When he ; inherited this estate, and a moderate hank account with it, instead of selling out, I and trying to 'die worth a hundred thou t sand dollars, in five years," he very wise- ' ly removed from the city to his farm; had the old house rejuvenated, by the aid of a few fancy porticoes, cornices, and Ital- j iau chimneys into a modern cotturje ornet j comely to look upon, and roomv within ; ! Ilkinml tins ?\I uno il... i ( vu kiav | > iiv u ??\/rrii?ci C, i i ' 111 lilt? I countless wil I rotes that grew upon it ; j ami settled down peaceful!) with his charming liltlo wife and her two charm ing little children, to enjoy existence sen aibly, without caring a copper to amass a fortune. Here, every summer, he ii?les over his acres, habited ill coll white linen and sha- , dy straw hat, overseeing his half do/.en laborers!; and here, every winter, lie galh | ers a few city friends about him, to spend the holidays, and to enliven the luoiiolo- i uy of a winter in the coun.ry. I have the honor to he one of John Legion's friends ; and many are the pleasant days and jolly nights I have passed at Rose mere, shooting sleighing, or skating, in the litori ings?reading, writing, or talk j ing (John and I are immense at ineta* I plnsics) m the afternoon?and eating, j drinking, dancing, llirting, singii g, plav- | ing chess, ami otherwise killing time liu inanely i:i the evenings. John Legion always chose his company well, ladies and ! gentlemen ; so that everybody can follow j his or her attractions, and find spmpalhy and companionship with somebody else. Not very many winters ago, I went, as usuhi, 10 uosemere, lor a week, and found a small party assembled there Ned Stapleton and his wife?old triends of mine; 1'anl Ryder (dramatic critic of too WetkIII /'(tirAfln); little Miss Sally Creamer , ! Madge liolton ? with whom I have dirted any time those live years ; John Le. gion'ft cousin, Lucy Kreve ; and the pianist, Payne Wilkinson. Those two last named personages are to be my hero and heroine. i knew the pianist tolerably we'l in tho city. H? was a quiet, reserved, shy sort t - #_ll in ? leiiuw?given 10 Diuiiiing, and verv inuih devoted to music. When John's cousin Lucy passed the winter with the Stapleton's, Payne had given her lessons on the piano, just for the fun of it?so they were pretty well acquainted; and Mrs. 8., like a woman as she was, had determined that they ought to make a match. I myself thought they might do worse ; but hardly expected it, hecause they were both so diilideut. If ?i ther had made the least advance, it would no doubt, have been well received, but I'ayne would never forget his extreme delicacy enough to evince the faintest sign of partiality for Lucy before others, nor ' would she risk the appearance of forwardness? that terrible bugl>ear to sensi- I live girls?enough to allow him private opportunities for expressing any affection* he might have felt. The cnn?Annani>? it.i ?-.1. , , ...... ?,|.l|...JKll everybody?i. t., Mrs. Supleton and I ? I thought they would make an excellent pair, they teemed to avoid all chance* for such an arrangement moat studiously. On the occasion of this visit, we were all unusually good humored for tome reason or another, nnd had a most glorious time. We instituted a variety of new games?some of them concocted in my own fertile brain, and most flatteringly received, and the tableaux t ivault, etc., arranged with wonderful dramatic skill I by I'aul Kyder, wpre lievond all deacnp liou. I observed, mm a curious psycho logical phenomenon, '.bat he always con trived to give Sally Creamer a souhrette | part, (which aho enacted moat bewitch- j ingly), and took a character himaelf thai required a quarrel with her, a auhaequent I reconciliation, and of court* a kin*. At rehearael, lie 'nalated on having everything real on the stage, ao far aa ?u possible aapecially the kiaa! Payne Wilkinson waa too diiUdent for thedrama?and Ln cy Kreye waa too useful. The former pre ferred to esecute appropriate inuaic be twean the piece* and during the tableaux, and the latter occupied hor consumate taaie in the arrangement of dreaaea, ma king up of faces, etc. One night we had a grand J?lav, 'writ ten expressly for tlio Rosemero Thalian Association" bv Ryder; wherein I was ! Lord Ponsonhy Elphinstone (in a fur trimmed coat and yellow glove*,) to Madge llolton's Com (esse Marie de Chas setigre (sweet in powder, patches, and peach blossom brocade). Paul was my valet (with a great deal of gold lace and impudence,) and?curious chance?SaUio I ...... l...1 ? :i . **_j > uicnmu v.f.n i.till n llinm lO ftlHdHlllH til Cointesse (with one of those comical lit- j tie aprons, w itli pockets just big enough for three fingers,) We had some iui promptu scenery, cleverly painted, in inai tation of architecture, by Legion himself; and all our arrangements were on a much grander scale than usual. Indeed, instead of the draw curtain we had formerly used, we contrived a very elaborate drop, to descend in stately folds upon the scene of our histrionic triumphs; and when the promoter's hell rang (prompter, Lucy Freye), and the curtain arose, I walked upon the stage with as much irepidition I as if it had been at the Academy of Music instead of at Koscmere cottage and the audience were the elite of New York Mislead of tnv own friends and ih.-ir ?ii>> pie neighbors?:i score of whom had j been invited in to witness the grand performance. Wilkinson played a brilliant and artistic overture, and the play went on Hnelv. 1 We were all well 'up in our lines,' as the 1 actors say, and (he applause we received was most encouraging. I had the eusto- ; mary troubles in wooing and winning the ' wealthy widow of the Cointo de Chasse tigro, and my valet had 'ho customary quarrel and reconvention with her femmc th rhiimbre- including the customary kiss. Twice only there was a littlo embarrassmerit, when the prompter neglected her duties. (Mice she forgot to prompt Madge, , who could not think of her speech corn mencing : 'lla! someone comes?shall 1 restore the miniature, or shall I keep it ? ( Takes j lockrt from table /> ) No, I must have this lifeless image?though fato has sev ered us (l<umh< icihtly,) this must he hu ried with me !' She got a* far as "soma one comes | but there she stopped. Instead of going toward the table and looking upon the miniature, as she should, she turned and I c ist an imploring glance at Lucy Fieye, who stood behind a paper column, hold ing the play in her hand and gazing with ' unutterable sweetness upon I'tytie Wil kin-iui?who leaned gracefullv upon his piano, w atching the piece, ij lito uncou scions of the admiration he was receiving. The interruption was only a moment, and very few obserecd it. Mrs, Staploton ? who did the ancient and scheming aunt in a turban and spectacle?and myself, saw not only the abstract ion of our prompter, hut its cause likewise and siuil ed s giiificmitly at one another. The second disturbance was at the pltKM 1st lllit lirwf tuL.it> I o L-. ) v. ...v ia? >?vi, nuvil iltv lllliaic U?" tr;ti>, and the character* formed in a tnh leaui. Here Lucy was so absorbed in ( I lie lingering, tremulous melody which 1'ayno bad composed for the scene, that { she never thought of ringing her bell.? The boy who had charge of the curtain string outside waited in vain for his sig ' nal, and we all became apoplelic with sup pressed laughter before the prompter re lieved us by ringing down the curtain. After tins, everything progressed as it should I'll the end of the piece; but at | its very termii.alien, a sa l catastrophe . > occurred. The slick of wood that sup i ported the curtain at the top give wav, I and fell, with a crash upon the piano, ; which was placed in the proper position lor an orchestra. I'avne Wilkinson was j knocked over backward ; and when lift- h ?d up-, hail a dark wound upon his fore- j neit'i, wnonce me t>Juo<l was Mowing pro i fusely. . i I hail just loft liiu stage with Lucy I Freye, aud we were in the adjoining room j ?our gretin room?when we lienrd the ; i crash. Madge ilolton rushed in, the next j < moment, and said that the curtain hud ' I fallen, and Mr. Wilkinson was hurt.? Lucy was about to dart out of the door, i when she slopped, turned pale as death, I tottered, and fainted in my arms as pret lily at, if it had been pari of the play ! 1 threw some water in her face, and | hastened to tell Madge t?? be discreet. < 'There is something wrong with the | poor child here,' said I, tapping iuy chest on the left side, 'and ii won't Ho to have her laugher! at. It would kill her.' i What, doe* she love Wilkinson V Don't ask questions. She fainted he- | cause he was hurt, aud that is more than < von would do if I were killer) !' < Very likely, air. Hush?she is com* i it g to herself.' We saw Lucy safely through her faiut- j ing tit, and then investigated the extent i of the pianist's ii juries, lie was hurt i hut little, as the curtain had prevented I the beam from falling very heavily ; and l'aul, seizing on the circumstance with professional avidity, made him appear in a tableaux got up ou the spur of the mo- j maul. Willi tlio blood stained cloth i till about hi* forehead, a gold laced jacket, high boots, and inunket, ho made a splendid Dying Brigand; and SallieCrea- r mar, with her hair down her hack, and I an ebony crucifix in her hand, was excel I lent as his despairing wife. There was < one lifle absurdity about thn picture, i however; for the Dying Brigand caught < the whispered word* of two voiincr vil- I I Uge maiden* in the front row of seat*. /?'< he handsome f < 'Oh, splendid T The reeolt was, a bhish such as very I few dying men could muster ! i Tho events of the evening proved raoet I conclusively to those who knew the posi., t f r- j lion <>l affairs, that Lucy Freve was only I wailing for Pay no Wilkinson to speak ; tlio first word, that Payne was ouly wait j nig to bo sum that sho would listen to it j Tho thousand and ouo little sings of at j faction that lovers unconsciously betray j had escaped him on every occasion that | had brought them together ; and we, ! who soberly talked the matter over, i agreed that if anything could occur to expose their feelings mutually, it would ' be a god send to both. I am perfectly well aware that it was none of our business. 1 know that we j Itad no right to mention their feelings, or to suggest any different course than the Ofitt l!l<?V tltirclKwl 1 nrtl'?iAiuU/1?? J (ICIVIIUUICU^O llini | we were very culpable in this, as well as j in our subsequent behavior?indeed, as j entirely am 1 convinced that we acted wrongly, that I do not intend to make die slightest apology or excuse ! I only j invite the utmost condemnation of the j realtor, and sum up my reply into eight ' simple words : 'What are you going to do about it?* We all sat at breakfast, a few morn- i ings after the play, and Wilkinson do- I scribed a singular noise bo had heard during the night. i 'It was the ghost, without doubt,' said ; John Legion ; 'I used to hear it very often ' walking about up stairs. Don't you re | collect George, the night when wo heard ' it together ?' I ,.,..1.1...i ? 'Tito story goes,' continued Legion, { 'that the first owner of the house whs h women, w hose husband ill treated her un til she died. She died, they sav, in the | west chamber, where Paul sleevs"?Paul , made ? gesture of alarm?'and is fond of taking posthumous walks through the whole of the second story. My wife here believes the house to he really haunted ; but then, you know, a ghost makes a house respectable, and these women are great sticklers for respectability.' Why, I never heard of any ghost here,' said Lucy Kreye. 'No; xou are so timid, my dear, that I have never mentioned it before to you.' 'But seriously,' said Payne, 'I did actually hear steps in my room and m the hall?steps like hare feet, apparently, and distinct enough to wake me up.' 'I have often heard steps in the hall i above,' said I ; "hut wooden houses are apt to he lull of odd noises.' 'lias this ghost ever been seen?' asked some one. '1 don't know about that. I think Mrs. Slapletoii once saw something white up there?didn't you, Mis. >.}' said Mrs. Legion. es, 1 thought I did.' 'The story says that the ghest can he seen at any time when it is heard,' con iinueti i,egion ; 'ami it I were superstitious li'inight confess to having seen something u little strange here m?self.1 4\Vhv, how romantic!'exclaimed Tame. I*did not expect the luxury in a haunted house, when ! came here I must fathom this mysterv.' The night following this conversation we retired somewhat early ; but the house whs alarmed, a little alter midnight, by the pianist, who knocked at all the doors, and desired us to assist him in securing the ghost, lie had heen awakened by | footsteps, aud had imagine'! that ho dis tinguished a white figure cro'ni? un the hall when lie !?? >keJ out of Iiia door.? ! Nobody else had heard any noise what ever, and all search was fruitless. Much discussion ensued, ot breakfast, as to the possibility of such phenomena, and many grave theories were advanced in explanation of llio mystery. It was settled, beyond a doubt, that all the doors and windows of the lower tloor were fastened; that llie servants had all gone to l e i, and slept soundly* ; that nobody but. i'avne had heard or seen anything, and that he had certainly heard distinl footsteps.? lie was s?ot perfectly* sure that he had | teen the ghost. As he looked out of Ids door, tie fancied that n while figure re I treated up the hall. It might have been imagination, lie said, although the steps look that direction, hut when he lit his lamp there was nothing to he seen. The next trght, Wilkinson persuaded several of us to watch with him ; hot we give it up at three o'clock, having dis covered nothing whatever. It was post* , posed that we should continue our vigils; but we laughed at the ghost as a myth ?* creation oi me pianist's mind?ant' refused to lose so much sleep for nothing. I'ay-no evidently fell himself to l>e in the position of a teller of large stories, and ie.ermined to convince himself, at least, f the truth or falsehood of his own statement 'You had best not watch alone,' said begion, in a half bantering way. 'I'hey iay there is a man in the Insane Asylum lip here, who was drisen crazy by what ha saw in this house ona night, while watching for the ghost !' This did not alarm Wiikinson, however. As we wrent to |>ed, we saw a light hurting in his room, and heard liini walking up and down, singing faintly to himself. The house became gradually silent.? The muffl?d sounds of undressing?the , irowsy conversation of those who roomed together?these noises fell off, little by lit- , Lie, until all wan still, and the watcher :ould only hear the heavv breathing of -I- . n_- .? if* mo|Mfri nenrmi mm, or me occasional packing of a plank or beam, cause J by lh? eoUl. After a seemingly interminable period lame the distant stroke of twelve from the tillage clock?faint and doming, swayed l?y the wind, and very suggestive of tliMiga lupernatural. Wilkinson trimmed his j lamp, put another shovelful of coal on the grate, and awaliowed a glass of aherry-- i not because lu? lump needed tiimiiiiiij bis fire replenishing , or his system a stiii ulant; but because he wanted to do soini thin^ to break the silence?ten tim< more intense since the last sound of tli clock died away. 'l'at pat, pal pat, pat pat'?past h door, up the hall, toward the stairs?nal ed feet or thin slippers, a light feininiu step?just as plain as could be!. No poi sibility for illusion about that? he coul have sworn to the reality of those fool steps in any court of law ! Very cautiously he opened his doo and looked anxiously up the hall. Som< thing dark and shadowy showed agains the window above the staircase for a inc mem, anu men disappeared, as the step went 'pat pat' down stairs. Delighted at the mystery and romanc of the situation, yet a little nervous with* the young musician followed on tip toi in his stockings, shading his lamp will his hand. The supernatural steps proceeded hit a few yards, and pausing at the front pai lot, opened the door and entered. Willi inson followed hesitatingly, but stoppei when lie gained the doorway ; for tin ghost w as apparently about to play th piano! The instrument had been left open, am upon the stool the appaiition h%l scatei itself, with its back toward Inn. It \va evidently a woman, and in a night dresi Payne was afraid to let the full light c his lamp fall upon it; but its dim heaim struggling between his fingers; showe him that the phantom's hair was arran^ i d exactly as Lucy Kreye generally ai ranged hers. As he advanced into th room, the ghost held up one hand ; am he saw on the little finger a peculia seal ring, with a dark blue s'one, tha Luev Freye always wore. Quite taken ha?'k at this discovery, h was about to retreai, when the ghos murmured something very softly. 'O Payne !' it said?'</eur Payne ! wlr will you not speak, in words,the lovetba makes all your music >o eloquent ? Willi these wunls, which set the piac ist's heart to heating audibly, the n'1"* let its bead slowly sink down upon it arms, which rested on 11:a front of th piano, and its slow, even breath was ex actlv like that of slumber. Wilkinson regained his room as noisi lesslv as he liad left it; but he found n repose there. The onlv explanation h could tliink of for this strange scene ua a self evident one. Lin-y Freye was uy doubtcdly a soiiinondiulisi, ami said . in ber dreams, the thintrs sheiMiit lhoo;;i wben awake ! Tho next mornino, we all inquire* very anxiously, whether Wilkerson ha watched, and what he had seen. II l>lu>hed like a oirl ; but stoutly declare that he had seen nothing?-heard noth ino?and that he had concluded tli footsteps' to be tin initiation alone. I'nfor'.unatelv for our ooinion of hi veracity, Paul Kyder an 1 Iih<1 watclie the whole scene from the folding door b.;lw? en the parlors, and the Stapletoii had also witnessed it from their chamhe door, which opened into the front parlo As for Sallie Creamer and Madge Ho ton, Sallie had helped Madge to dress fc the part, hraidud her hair like Luc Freye's ami stole the latter's ring froi her toilet table, after she had gone t sleep ? taking care, however, to return i before morning. Therefore, when Will mi son made this extraordinary denia we all had hard work to keep froi laughing outright. The footsteps that h had heard were those of Sallie Creanx herself, and the whole story about tl. ghost was a part of the plot fabricate by John Legion. That afternoon we all managed t leave Payne an l Lucv together i.i tl rear parlor for an hour ; and not long a lei ward, it was announced that they wet engaged. To this day, Lucy imagii that she was afflicted with a sudden an luief fit of somnambulism (Payne told a thin about (he ghost, at his wedding; party ;) and she once naively acknow edged to Madge llolton, that she ofte dreamed of saying very similar things t those the phanton uttered. To whic Madge replied : *1 thought so then, my dear !' Sympathy of the Nervei. When the nerves, from long hahi have become accustomed to transrn their messages from distinct parts, an are suddenly cut off front them, they wi retain along their trunks the svmpatheti or sensational actions. Thus, a man wh has a leg amputated w il feel distiiicil along the course of the trunk of the nerv sensation f.ont toes which no longer oxis The mind is also influenced by this ; an frequency this peculiar direct nervot action can only be allayed by that whic is negative and reflex A curious ii stance occurred within inv own exper ence. An old sailor suffered much froi this. He retained his diseased foot to long, but at last consented to an ampnti * ! f I I ? linn. i Knew aim with oniy h wuorie leg. When he had hm nervous pains h always called for hot water, into whic he put his wooden stump. If told of h folly in supposing that such a proceedin could do any good, he would become ei raged, and Ids paroxysm of pain woul increase ; hut if gratified, he took thinj easy, and the process actually appear* to do him good, though ull must kr.O' there could be no real hum-fit. ftiill, hei is the eftect of mind over matter.?Ne York Medical Preu. The leas we know, the more we auspec we should therefore remedy suspicion b endeavoring to know more, r, Household Hints and Helps ii j November Is a glorious moiilli, uot3 withstanding the wry faces it sometimes is compels us to make, either at a long, dull ie soaking rain, or a sharp, biting, frosty j wind, lietween these two, what fun we is , have had when we were children, rustling ; the heaps of crisp leaves that had drifted e into corners, throwing sticks at the great ? j chestnut and walnut trees, to make the d frost ripened fruit come down and fill our t- baskets, shakintr down th? i o ; / vw apples?(which shaking whs a very r, : naughty practice)?and brim full of vigi orous life, inspired l>y the month's tonic t atmosphere, doing whatever mischief we ? could. is When we were older, we enjoyed the exceptional sunny days?oh ! so much ! e ' So mellow, calm, and quiet, like the mood d of a happy old age. The year has done ?, its toil, and sits serenely in its rockingli chair (figuratively) ready to fall asleep.? ! A healthful glow is on the ruddy counten nauce. a peacelul expression in the clear, ' | honest eyes, perfect content is delineated ; I on every feature. il | 13ut imagination aside, it is a time for p the thrifty housekeeper also to feel con e tent. The long summer heats no longer impair the strength ; the dust fiies, and (1 mosquitoes are gone, the house cleaning J is all done up, and the house has on its s 1 comfortable look for the winter. There is ?. time now to think of Thanksgiving and if other dinners, where our friends are to he ', invited ; lime to read of evenings ; time d | for the children's indoor games,?ii. fact, ; we feel more at home in November than wo did in July, e Hut there is stili the winter sowing to [I do; and this is just the time to do il in. r The quiet, half lonely, hut entirely agree t able seclusion of a long rain-storm inspires I the fingers with a love of the needle.? e Such davs seem especially made for cut t ! ting and tilting. No danger of intrusions then. Hring out the children's wr.rdv robes and look them carefully ? it How many new gaimenU to make ?? Are they warm enough? New garments i- are more comfortable than old ones in t cold weather. Lay aside the thinner ones s till summer. Have the children all cot e nice warm 'stockings and drawers !?long - close drawers, to come inside the stockings j and all'urd some real protection to the i tender young limbs i Have the little 0 girls all got.woolen sacqiies to cover their e arms and shoulders, or long sleeved win s tei i|re?es { There arc a thousand things 1 to do; t> ?t iheru are three hundred and i\ti ;ive days in the year, aud the cease H-- loing of little things every day brings it around right at last. 1 > > not wait for 1, a want to come before you try to meet it. d Do not begin to get the rooms to warm e. just at once. Accustom yourselves and i . i... ~i i i ? * me iiiii'irun 10 h moderate temperature ; but provide against absolute colli or e dampness. Never think it too much troutie to build n tire where one is needed.? s Hy ohserbing lit is rule inanv constitutions d | will he saved, as well as many doctor's s bills. is A tight, well protected house is the best ir thing to save fuel ; hut even the saving r. thus made is no gain really, unless you h have the discretion to ventilate your rooms >r thoroughly as often as the air becomes y too dry or olVensiva in quality. A draft n is a bad thing ; hut no fresh air is worse, o As much of our comfort and health do. it pend upon the table, and the manner in : which it is suppied, it is well to study to I, j make up by c oining skill in preparation n of food, for the greater variety of summer. r...,. u:?v. < imu i^i ij-iiiv: uiiiitfiu hi us cnar r actor, as it should bo; and wo may vene ture to eat more rich and substantial dishd es in cold than in hot weather. The delicate and cooling eus'ards, creams, jellies, 0 lose their relish in tho season of frost le and snow ; and puddings, pies, fried cakes f and pickles are hi favor; nor do wo esre teem these things injuries when properly is made, and rationally eaten. 'Good diet d makes good blood, and good blood makes 11 I good braius,' says somebody, and we a{ I greo?but always in moderation. 1 j As a general rule, it is most economin ' cal to buy the best articles. The price is, o of course, always a little higher ; but h ! good articles spend best. It is a sacrifice i of money to buy poor flour, meat, sugar molasses, butter, clieese, lard, <fcc., to s?y nothing of the injurious efiect upon the , health. } 01 West India sugar and molasses, .' the Sal.ta Cruz and l'orio Rico are con ( sidered the best. Tho llavanna is sel jj loin clean. White sugar from Brazil if sometimes Tory good. Kefined sugars IC usually contain most of the saccharin# substance, therefore there is probably ^ more economy in using loal, crushed, ami c granulatod sugars, than we should at j first suppose. Butter that is made in September and ' October is best for winter use. Lard _ | should be hard and while; and that which 1 is taken from a hog not over a year old if 1 best Kich cheese feels soft under the pres? sure of the finger. That which is very " strong is neither good nor healthy. To n keep one that is cut, tie it up in a bap j that will not admit fiies, and hang it in a cool, dry place. If moid appears on 18 it, wine it oil" with a dry cloth. g lm ! . ' r luur nun meal OI HI I KIIKlH Should hi l. kept in a cool, dry place. The heat rice ia large, and haa a clear, '* freah look. Old rice aometiinoa haa liltle ' Mack inaecta inaide the kernels. Tho small white sago, called pearl sago r | ia the heat. The large brown kind hai W an oaithv taMe. Tlieae articlee, and tap iooa, ground rice, <kc.. should bo kept , covered. t; The cracked cocoa ia the beat ; bul <y | that which it put up in pound papers it 1 oflon *ery good. Slid Is are apt to l>o musty. Try a quarter of a pound before buying a quanuty. To select nutmegs, prick tbein with a pin. If they are good, the oil will im btantly spread around the puncture. Keep coffee by itself, as its odor*atYects other articles. Keep tea in a close chest v? vnuioiCl. Oranges and lemons keep best wrap ped close in soft paper, and laid in a drawer of linen. When a cask of molasses is bought, draw off a few quarts, else the fermentation produced by moving it will burst tbe j cask. bread and cake should be kept in a tin box or stone jar. Salt cod should be kept in a dry place, where the odor of it will not affect the air of the house. The best kind is that which is called Dun, from its peculiar color. Fish skin for clearing coffee should I be washed, dried, cut small, and hept in ! a box or paper bag. j Soft soap should be kept in a dry place I in tho cellar, and should not be used till l three months ohi. liar soap should be cut into pieces of j a convenient size and laid where it will become dry. It is well to keep it several weeks before using it, as it spends fast when it is new. Cranberries will keep all winter in a I firkin of water, in the cellar. i.~ " .. ouvum uv |)?n uiiu uie ceuar as soon as they are dug. Lying exposed I to the sun turns them green, and makes j.tbeni watery. Soma good housekeepers have sods (aid over barrels of potatoes not in iir.mediate use. To prevent them j troin sprouting in the spring turn them ! out upon the cellar bottom. To thaw frozen potatoes, put them in ! hot water. To thaw frozen apples, put | them in cold water. Neither will keep ! long after being frozen. Grumblers. A subscriber came up in to our office the other day aud grumbled because we put in too many advertisements ; he grumbled because be didn't get bis paper regular?a* if we could regulate ft horse 1 mail ? we'd sooner undertake to regulate the d?I. Now, there is n large number I of just such characters. Thoy are a!* ways grumbling, catch 'em when you j will, like the species of fish called grum birrs. They grumble, grumble, at good j luck and bad luck ; they grumble at the : weather?cold or warm, wet or dry ; i they grumble when its too sunny ; they grumble because they have to eat and sleep ; they grumble wu" or s'c^ \ they i grumble :tt life ; tliev grumble because ! thov are poor or rich. We know a man that grumbles at the very milk he put? | in his Coffee, because the cow don't give j cream ! They grumble at other men's I prosperity ; they grumble ami they don't know why. We hate this everlasting I complaining, fretting, scolding, fault finI ding and grumbling. Stop it, you miser1 , able, nervous, dispeptic bipeds. What uiIs you ? Take up the song of life and : leave off grumbling. This life is short, is meant to he disciplinary. Then pitch I in and enjoy life. Spend your money 1 and treat your frienos. Don't the birds sincj in summer, and tho crtcket chirp on 1 the hearth in winter ? Kven tho frogs | that croak, croak fur jov. Don't he a ! dog in the manger. lake up the march j of life and sing on the way cheerily.? You can make it bright and sunshiny, or you can make it dark and shadowy. So come lilolior advertise fr? llie omniitil r.t ~ ; column, take 44 copies of the paper, and a feeling, soft, gentle and glorious, will 1 spread itself over your soul, as if it had | lieen fanned bv an angel's wing.?Rising > Sun. Secret of Unhappy Homes. Why goes forth that man this Saturday . evening from the roof under which his i children live? Why turns he from the I engaging little attempts to detain hint, and roughly moves them away, while he 1 loves them dearly ? Why sits another , hy his fire,sullen, discontented, unwilling i to speak the kindly word, while his heart i is yearning for converse and enjoyment ? , ' Why flies the crual speech to her for whom the bosoms strongest ad'ection is > nourished ? Ar.d why, searching into I deep deptii9. why does man become so, , i often a tyrant, so often a criminal, in his i home ? Truth has to be told; but oh ! listen to it kindly, for it is bard to tell.? . i ll i. ? ' ? it. in uuvjuinc nwmuu UUCS IIUV iFUIV HJ)J)TO ciate Iter mission in domestic life. Under i ' the present conditions of existence, she has become weighed down bv cares. At a wife she is different to what she was at . a mistress. She is ever employed ir drudgery for children and household.? I 1 She neglects her dress, she forgets her I manners. Her husband sees the change i I does not perhaps find sufficient excuse . for it from the conditions she labors un< der. He Ihes to the tavern and billiard . table ; and she increases in sourness and asperity as she increases in years. Thai , much of this is owing to the present cir f cumstances of social life is true; but thai i much of it is chargeable to a sad submis i sion to those circumstances is also hu too true. It is more or less in the powei j of woman to make their domestic lib more attractive to their husbands, am , more holy in it? discipline and emit thai i they now do. A great regularity in tinv ?a great simplicity in dreaa?a mor , determined adherence to that which ? i right in one's own eyes, rather than tha which is well thought of in the eye* o 1 j others?an orderly apportioning of vari ous period* for different occupations,? L would mako evenings at home pass awaj i | very differently to what, in the great ma [ jorily of cases they are now doing. Jt ! Ihuiiuraus. An Irish luver lias remarked that it it a great pleasure to bo alone, especially when your 'swateheart is wid ye.' J There is an editor in Alahama?narned i^riiiKHrn. me editor of the Southern Times, migui with truth say to him?'if 5 were u, you would be just what / am.? P rentier. ^^? A gentleman rode up to a public house | in the country, and asked, 'Who is raaa> ter of this house ?'?'I am sir,' replied the landlord ; 'my wife baa been dead , about three weeks.' The following slanderous paragraph i goes unrebuked : A wag has invented a j now telegraph. IIo proposes to place a 1 line of women fifty steps apart, and com| mil the news to the first of them as a se! cret. I A sanctified heart is better than a ailj ver tongue ; a heart full of grace is better ! than a head full of notions ; a man may | be a great scholar, and yet be a great sinner. j 'I say, landlord, that's a dirty towel 1 for a man to wipe on !' Landlord, with a look of amazement, rani tad ?W?n , .. , you're mighty particular. Sixty or sevj enty of my boarders havo wiped on that ; towel this morning, and you are the first one to find fault.' Philosophy says that shutting the eyea makes the sense of hearing more acute. Perhaps this accounts for the habit some | people have of always closing their eyes ! during sermon time. Patrick and thk i*rikst.?'Patrick, the widow Malonney tells me that you . # ! have stolen one ol her finest pigs. Is | that correct or not ?'?'Yis, ver honor.'? j 'What have you done with it ?'?'Killed t | it and ate it, yer honor.'?'Oh Pat ! rick ! Patrick i when you are brought i face to faco with the widow and her pig i 0,1 judgement day, what account will you I be able to give of yourself, when the wid! ow accuses you of stealing ?'?'Did you ! say the pig would be there, your riverI ence V?'To be sure I did ?'?'Well, ! then, yer riverence, I'll say Mrs. Maloney, j there's yer pig.' Advice to a Vol no Lawykk.?The I following is the advice of an examining ! Judge to a young lawyer on admission. ; 'Sir it would bo idle to trouble your , farther. You are perfect, and I will dismiss you with a few words of advice, which you will do well to fellow. You ! will find it laid down as a maxim of civil ; law, never to kiss the inaid when you can kiss the mistress. Carry out this i principal sir and you are safe. Never say boo to a goose, when she has the ! power to lay good eggs. Let your face I ho long, and your bills longer.. Never i put your hand in your pocket when any one else's is handy. Keep your conscience for your own private use, and don't ? trouble it with other men's matters.? I Plaster the Judge and butter the jury.? Look wiser than an owl, and be as oracu| as a town clock, and above all get mon 1 ey honestly if you can, but, my dear sir, get money. I welcome you to the bar,' A Bad Practice ArH a Boil xt?vj? ConiiETT, who lived more than a year at IlampRtead, Long Island used somei tunes to tell laughable stories at the expense of the Quakers, some of whom I lived in his neighborhood there. The i 1 author of 'Recollection of Mr. Jav,' a Math clergyman gives the following as I received from Cobbett's own lips : 1 was acquainted with a well-disposed I young gentleman of large fortune whose I only fault was swearing?such a habit i ' that ho often declared ho would give half i ' his fortune to get rid of it. The desire , came to the ears of a Quaker, who there i j upon hail an interview with the young t gentleman, and said,? I can cure thee of that bad habit. | Whereupon the youth caught hold of ' the Quaker's hand and gave it a hearty i shake, saying,? i 1 'How can you perform this miracle !' i ' The reply was, 'I can tell thee. I have i heard that thou art going to travel for a - period of six weeks, thou art just my site; nobody will know thee : thou shalt come , to my house, put on the cocked hat, coat s with out buttons, the knee breeches, and the shoe buckles ; and thou wilt find that the strangeness of the dress witl have such an effect on thee when thou art go* , ing to talk, that it will restrain thee from swearing?as thou perhaps knowest, my I good friend, that we Quakers nevar swear.' l The young man cheerfully assented to r (he proposal, and accompanied the Qua. > kor to his house, where, after changing 1 his clothes he took bis departure in the 1 garp of a Quaker and went on his way ? ' rejoicing. Tne period of the young gen* b tleman's tour elapsed, the Quaker all anxiety started to meet him. Haring t met him, he said,? ,f 'Flast thou sworn ?o much with that dress on thee ?' - 1 The young man rubbing the sleerea of r his coat, replied,? *1 'Certainly not: but I feel a d?d iflt 1 dilution to He !'