Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I . JL - . - ||j>i i w in i i . w.J i t+a** SIu fancaster Cfbgcr. $2 PER ANNUM ".5SS.TKJ1* IN ADVANCE 2 /amity MB ^nlitiral JSfinsfiaprr?fitMtrt io tlir IrtB, sriwtB, litrtatnrf, (?hratinn, igrirnltnH, Sottraol SroprnnnittntB, /orngi; anil fiatntstic jSrmB, anil tlji j&arkrts. -VOLUME II. I LANCASTER C. H, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 11,1860. NUMBER 2 2. ^elprt ^optnj. From the Mobile Sunday Regiater. ''Drewing for Choreh*" Haa any body henrd the bell ? You have? dear me. 1 know full well I'll never dreaa in tiuie. For mercy'a aake, come help me, Jane ; J'll make iny toilette quite plain, (Thia for the aake of rhyme.) Ilere.llace thia gaiter for me?do; A hole,' you aay ! plague take the ahoe! Ph-aae, Janey, try *nd hide it. I know t'a Sunday? but my aoul, I cannot wear it with a hole ! The nun will surely spy it They're always peeping st our feet, (Tho' to be aure they needn't peep The way we hold our drreaee,) I'll disappoint tlieni tho' to day, "And cross myself," pr?y, did you say? Don't laugh at my distresses. How beautiful this ailk will rustic ! (Plense hand my "self-adjusting bustle " My corset nod iny hoop ) There now, I'll lake five skirts or six ; Do hurry, Jane, and help me fix ? Yon know 1 cannot stoop! ' How shall I aay uiy prayers to-day !" Ah it girls went to church lo pray ! How can you be so foolish ! Here, damp this ril-bon in cologne ; "What for?" to paint you silly one? Now, Jauey, dou'l be mulish ! It's no more harm than "I jly White"? (IMeaar, nen if thin cheek'n painted ri^'ht. Ami hand my l?nx of chalk.) Now damp the towel, );?i>e\, deur, ?\:.d wipcihi- c ebrnw?much I tear i alii.II of too into to w?lk Now 'Ion my bonnet, if you plena*? The ttiinif'a i?? l?ij? ?* ail out doora, . Th* fri|{htfull Migur acoop! Thank heaven, my tnantle'a handsome I l?o'? It coat rliouyb to h*. I know. (Straight, n thia horrid hoop ) My handkerchief and glovea you'll find 1 Jimi in that drawer?vou're very kind. {Ho?a iny drt?* trail?) llV ail the fmd-inr now, you know. (I'rav does the paint and powder allow I'm..' ,lu* lace Veil ?) 1 lu.nk ><>u, my dear; I believe I'm dress d. "I'lie ??i. u V<- priiiii'd! tlir day of rest (JoiiirM only oiicti in seven ; Jh'or if on nil the other six This trouble I should have to fix, I'd never get lo heaven, II AGAR. A Drop of Ink. Think of a Queen's signature of a deuh warrant, where tears tried to blanch the latal black ilea* of the doom i:ig ink ; of a traitor'* adhesion to a deeu of rebellion. wmlcfi in g?ll ; of a forger's trembling imitation of another's writing, where e?cii miier look the shape of me gallows ; of a lovers passionate proposal written iu tire ; of a proud gin's refusal written in ice ; of a mother'* dying ex pocttiUlion with her wayward son wri; ten in her bean's blood ; of au indignant father's disinheriting caies on bis lit si born, black with the lost color of tbe gray hairs which shall go down in sor row to the grave?think of these, and of nil the other impassioned writings to aklak mm* hour cruras birlh. and what ",v" " "/ ?? n ? strongly |H)te?n, Protean tiling, a diop of ink grow* to be 1 All o?er (lie aond it it diMillmg at tbe behest of men. llere a despairing pneonsr is writing wnli a runty nail ln? dung confession of lailb oil bit damp dungeon wall There mi anxious lover ie deceiving all but bis bride, with so ink which the only know* bow to render visible. U-leaguered eoldiee in India form are confiding to tbe perilous Merest of nee water or inooceot intlk their own Jives and ibe fortunes of their country.? fcbip wrecked sailors, about to be en* gulled iu inid oceau, are consigning to a floating bottle the faint pencil memorandum of the spot where they will soon go wiflly down in the very jawa of death. Kvery where htippy pairs, desr husbands and wjvea, afTec. innate broihers and sis ters, and ail the busy world, are writing 40 each other < a endless topics, with whatever paper ronie to hand, whatever ink The varied stream thus ever flowing M tbe in'al|?ciuel snd emotional blood of the world, and no ooe need visit Egypt, or summon nt KgypUiau mtgi ?ian,to cliuw biro nil tbe ?fU, nil tbe joy* and woe* of men, rr(l?cl?i from tbe mir yor of a drop of mk.?Maemillan's Mag tuimt. Worth Kkowiko?TH*nnrt.**TiKo Trer*.'--!' iv Cmkmlwiootn) of th# Central Pailc would give strict order* to j mark the uoiih side of trees with red , clunk before ibey were token up, end ? when mi oni to here the tree put in tbe ground with it* north side to tbe north tn it* natural position. * larger proportion wpuld live I .Boring thin lew ol nature ia tbe cause of eo many ireneptentied treea dying. If tba north *'?la ^ eepoaed to tbe routh, the t set pf the sen is toe great for that tide of the tree tc bent, end therefor? jf {jr?e? up ?i?d decays. L .. .. .... - . .. _ . - &torq. t'roi Uie New York Lodger. an wnown complaint; i -oBY IXllY W. STANLEY 0IB80N. O There ire tome people who seem to go through fe on s pillow of down. My friend, Ma. Major B)lieid, ?h? one of tbeee ludjy individual*. She bad been a beauty ati a belle in her young day*, at fifty-live he ?u a devotee and a widow with ? litiJtoine fortune, comprising n house in t>wo and ft pretty seat in the country. She had had but cue great grief in lie?the loss of her husband, who died twenty years before I met her, in France Their brief union had been ft very h*>py one, and though her regui lar textiles, beautiful complex.on and dftrk eyes showed, in age, what she must hftve beei in youth, she bad been faithful to Ids memory, and looked forward eagerly tc the day when she should meet him agait in Heaven. Knowiig her uueventful history, and tiie calm n which she lived, it is not won darlul if ] sometimes contrasted it rather bitterly with my own troubled existence. All her wants and wishes had been gratified, from her cradle up?only one dear one had keen taken from her, and world' ly conifer's and pleasures bad helped to fi'l up the void that lose had made, her home was elegant, her acquaintances numerous and pleasant, her existence varied if she chose. If 1 had t>een challenged to nan.e any ono happy human being, I should ha?e pointed to Mrs. Majoi Byfield. 1 said as much io her ono day when we met in town. To my astonishineiil she shook her head and closed her eye* with * melancholy *igh. 'Now, never tell me I aid inoiaken,' I exclaimed. 'I have h I * m \ * heard that every houee ha* ita 'padded room,' and that a akeleton aita hi every feaat, hut ?ur*ly that la nut the case at It) field Grange.' 'Not exact'y my dear. I have h great many bleating* for which I trual [ am thankful?and yet?' 'Now for it, inv dear madam.' *1 har.ilt know how to put it into word a. Something lie* heavy here,' and ha put her hand upon her heart. *1 mn?upt I know no oue who ahould be more ciiaerlwl ehan jrou. ?ny dear madam.' It aeem* ao to you, no doubt. Have you ever *een H\field Grange I' 'Only in a picture.' M go down there next week. If you have nothing better to do, auppoee you accompany n?e. You will then nee that I have told the truth, and that there i* a ehadow, though I cannot well tell what it i?.' 'I will 00 uladlv. Hut I warn von thai I aliaU do my L>t-?t 10 drive tlio n)ih<I o?r away, ao that I mii support ny old theory? cIimI \>>u aie the happie?t wo in*ft iu England,' Mi<d linking hand* wo operated. We a('tried from town t!te following Monday, and reached llyfield Grange nl tan in iho evening. Of courne, thero waa no time to ?o? lie piece beyond tlie walla of (lie drawing end drinking room*, no 1 took my nupper, ???i*ted at family pray ere, end bidding my ho*te?a good nigtu, went quietly off lo bed Sbe neemed cheerful enough ? no aign of'the ahadow' a? \ at '( woke the next morning early, and an I was the only gue?i hi tt?e t*range, I de lermined to ramble round ilie place !> lore breakfast. I dressed hurriedly? the e ock ?m j>ist sinking six r* I opened my door. A stout, good humored looking woman met rne on the si airs, end nearly let r small tray fx 11 which she whs curry, ing, in her surprise. It was the hou-e keeper. 'Dear me, Miss.'she said, when she bad rtcovered from the shock, 'I atn sure I never thought of finding you up. I was just going to your room witb this coffee My mi?tre?s always takes a cup at six o'clock, and she poured tbis out with ber own bands f? r you.' 'It was very kind of ber. Please bring it down to the ball table, and I hardly neeu anything, I will take it. I was going out for a look at the bouse. At what time do you breakfast, Mrs !* 'Moore, if you pleas*,' she said, courtesyiug, as she placed the tray upon the table. 'Hreakfasl is served at eight. My mistrese begged me to ask you to svcuse her. She always takes that meal in her own room-?but she charged me to look after the morning pa|>ers for you, and to sew that you had everything you couhl wish fur.' 1 did not know she wes so much of an invalid,* I said, sipping my coffee, which wa# dsliciou#. The housekeeper sm<K>th* .1 l i L.J _. ,.u:...a ?hj tier atprcii, Hug iuubvu ni wv wuhijuo* y'I beliara it ia mora an invalid habit than an)thing alaa,' aha aaid, at laat ? *Mv mitUMi haa ill a long lima. and ah* lika* to alaep aftar aha baa had bar rodW, and by tha lima aha wakaa, brtnkfaat ia Mtdr. 8>> aha takaa a coupla of rnlla, a couple of lurkey'a rgg*. and a cup of coif a#, and reada the paper bafora aha rraaa.' 'A vary aanaibia and plaaaaat way of apnndiog tha ntorniog,' I aaid, potting down my amply nip. Thank you for your eotfea, Mra. Moor a. It ia tha baal I hara taatad in Kngland.' Th!a wail daaarrad aotnpiioaaat want to tba good womaa'a ha?rt, and aha opau?d tba grant hall doora for ma, with bar own aupuat baoda, ioatapd of fpwiiBooiag ooa oi the servants. 1 went out and stood upon the dewy lawn and breathed the , fresh, sunny, August air. It was a quiet, solitary place, just after ; my own heart. A long distance from : the high road, and with nothing but green fields and hedges on every side. So at ill was it that I might have been in an un > inhabited wilderness?even the birds I I seemed to tune their matin songs in unison with the spirit of the place. I l,~.t,<.,rl .... ? Tl. - UK..J | m. iwncu v? |/ r%\ IUO IIUUOC. 1 IIO l/IIUWS I were drawn down in front?tne second ] story whs surrounded by a gallery, whose slender column* were painted to imitate porphyry, and whose latticed (tides were overrun with jasmine, just bursiing into cluster* of star like, perfumed flowers. It looked like a pleasant promenade Tor wet | weather, and I saw that my friend's windows opened out upon it. On either sine of the house were groups of lime trees, in front, the green, smooth lawn, shaded by some fine beeches?at the hack a for est of peach, apple, plum and pear trees, whose branches were heavy with fruit.? Tlie glimmering ot water on the right at tracted me, and I strolled down to the borders of the little lake. Two snow white swans were sailing to and fro in the smooth waier?they came up confidingly to where I stood, and searching my pockets for some huiscuiis, I fed the pretly creature* out of my hands. A boat with a single pair of oars was drawn up under a willow tree; I loosed its chain, and paddling out like "Young Calidora" into the | centre of the lake, listened to tbe melHn clioly cry of the swans, and the Ringing of die bird*, till tears of pleasure stood : in my eves. 'I must have been dreaming,' I said to myself, as I sprang upon tbe shore once more,aid replaced tbe little boat. 'Mrs. Hvfield could not have spoken of a shadow here. Or if she did, it was certainly in jest.' A boll rang loudly in tbe ball, and I burned up across the lawn to breakfast, i Coflee and toast of exquisite flavor awaited me, and tbe most delicious bain i bad ever lasted, to say nothing of potted meats, cold and hot rolls, and new laid I read tbe "Morning Star" while 1 ate my toast, and thought myself a very lucky individual to have fallen upon such comfortable quarter. When the meal was finished, the housekeeper made her appearance, with a smiling face and a great hunch of keys in her band. 'My mistress's compliments?and per baps you would like to go over tbe bouse with me. while she is dressing.' I .1.1 I .. ,??i...i.....i I ...UUIU And we set onl together, peering into cosy little bedrooms, snug parlors, the greet atste drawing rooms, the picture gallery, the conservHtory, the library and the music room, till I hid afraid I Iran* gressed one of the commandment*, and actually "coveted my neighbor* goods.'? I told Mrs Moore so, as 1 sat playing the splendid pianoforte in the last named a. artmenl. Slie laughed. 'It is a pre:ty p ace, not grand you kno?, hut very snug and comfortable; one might he very happy here, and yet I Sometimes fancy my mistress is not. But then her health is not good, that may ncount for it. The mysterious illness of Mrs. 1 iyfield aiher puzzled me. 1 had never lieaid of it before, and was going to ask more questions, when th? sound of a distant bell made my companion start. 'Mv lady Iris just rung, she is now in ber morning room,' sbe said. Very well. Then I w>l| goto ber.' As I had conjectured, Mrs. By Held'.* morning rooiu' whs that whose windows I b*d already noticed upon the gallery. They were not open, however, though the blinds were up, and 1 could see the jesainine waving about in the fresh air outside. Ha!m\ as the day was, a fire beamed in the ^roc ; and drawn up he aide it, in an t asv chair, sat tny hostess. She was tending some hook of devotion when I entered, but laid it aside, and rose to meet me, with old fashioned courtesy. Good morning, mv dear; i trust you slept well,' she said kindly. 'Charmingly, dear Madam. I am nor ry to bear froin Mrs. Moore that your hexlth is not good. No one has told me of thai before' Did I not say there was a sbsdhw at the Grange ?' she said, smiling, 'Hut never mind a poor old invalid like me.? Have you enjoyed yourself this morning!' 'Very much. I have already walked over the grounds, fed the ewans, sailed upon the iake, takeu breakfast, and seen tie house and chapel.' Sue held up her hands in astonishment. 'Heavens, what energetic, restless creatures you Americans are 1 My dear what you have already named would have ' bt-?n a Burlr (. . r m? I am anru niter nil that exertion, you will not refuse j to take n little refreshment.' 'Thank you ; I have but just break [ fasted.* 1 'Very (rue ; but a glass of wine and a | few biacuila can do you no harm. I am forced to take sustenance often during I the day. I atn a poor, broken down | creature, and need all the strength I can K'b Accordingly Mrs. Moore brought in a | tray coverd with fancy biscuits, (winch are my abomination,) and a decanter of old, | crusted port,and piaced lliem before Iter { mistress. Some light sponge cakes were I added for my benefit, and 1 was forced, through courtesy, to aocept them. Two 1 of these and a glass of the strong port, ia addition to the heal of tha room, made j my hefd giddy and heayy, and aeeing II this, my fripncj fcindly gar* n>? leave to go into the gallery, with a book. 'But cloee the window carwfq|ly behind i you, my dear, f. r I take cold with the least breath of air,' shessid, helping h?r self to Hiiollier glass of wine end h hand- ; ful of bisv.utls. 'Mrs. Noore will call you | for luncheon?it ?s at twelve.' It was ilieu ten. My book was an interesting one, and the two hours sped so j quickly, that I was astonished when lun j cbeoti was announced. It was laid in the morning room, because Mrs. By field war afraid of draughts be low stairs ; and as we chatted she forctd such quantities of cold chicken and ttfkey upon tne, in addition to the sandwicJies 1 had selected, that I began to have strious fears of ap opiexy. 'Nonsense, my dear ; this small piece of breast cannot hurl you,' she would say; and there was no heip for it?it was eaten. After the meal, I was only too glad to stretch myseif upon the rota near her, and listen to the cheerful conversation. I had not the slightest inclination to move for more than two hours. At half past wo I was sent to my room to dress lor dinner. The meal was serv ed at three precisely, in a small saloon opening out of the mo-ning-room, with a temperature like that of a hot house.? Soup, fish, flesh and towl, with the accompaniments of port and sherry, had to he fully discussed?nothing offended Mrs. li t fluid more than to slight her dinners. Then came- a desert ami more sherry, with a xoupron of claret, and a tiny glass ful of maraschino, by wty of finish. I fell like a prize hen, which has been fat tened in the dark, when we rose from the table. 'My dear, would you like a nap ? I always take one after dinner,' said Mrs. By field, as I gave ber my arm bac k to the morning room 'I st in my easy chair?vou shall have the sofa.' I resumed my place thankfully, and lor an uour and a bait we slept?perhaps we snored, (it was very likely, after that dinner,) in concert. Then a voice awoke ne, speaking close to tny ear. It was Mrs. By field, holding two plates of delicious Iruit. My dear, I always take a little fiuil and a glass ot wine before tea; and a few biscuits?you shall have sponge cake. You will be charmed with this Iruit; and 1 have a story to tell you as you eat it.' There was no help for it ; and all idea of escaping my fate vanished then and there. I sat up and ate the fruit and the sponge cake, drank a glass of wine, and heard the story. By some unlucky chance or other 1 happened to spoak of home hrt wed ale, and acknowledged that 1 had never lasted *uv. Mrs. B\ field rang the hell loudly, and poor Mrs. Moore made her appearance. 'My dear Mrs. Moore,my young friend says she has never lasted ale. Bray go and draw some.1 Oh, no,1 I began. Noioense, my dear, you must not quit my house without knowing how de licious our English drink is. Mrs. Moore toU may bring two g asses?I think 1 can take one?and have them foam nice ly. One second thought you limy tiring itie ale in tankards. I: does not look ho nice, my dear, but you gel the taste of li ale tntiih fielter tlmn front glass.* 1 he ale cm me : stiong, foHining, clear and hitter, and she whs no' satisfied nil n tankard wn? empty, I he room wbirle-J around me h will be a pretty storv for my Loudon filends,' I thought, laughing in spite of myself. Tipsey, 1 must surely be presently, if site goes on like this, and I may thiuk myself lucky if I do not die ot ? surfeit at the end. What next is on the hill of fare I wonder !' 'You had better firing tea. at once. Mrs. Moore,' she said, 'or the ale will make my young friend's head ache.? Make green tea and very strong.' 'Muffins ?' said Mrs. Moore. 'Yes, unless you tinnk the weather too warm, ru\ dear,' she sanl, turning to me Hiii 1 '.ad grown desperate, and declared for ilie muffins without hesitation. 'And some fruit jelly, Mrs Moore, a little of (lie apricot preserves, ami some Devonshire cream,' added Mrs. H\ field. In a quarter of an hour the things ware before us. It is really asionisitig how Aiuch one can eat, it viands are suf fluently tempting. 1 can believe the wildest stories ot gastronomic exploits, when I recall that day's experience. My friend looked over lbs table with a dis satisfied air, as she took ber third cup of tea. "Did you ever try any peaches with Devonshire cream, my dear!' "Never." "1 wonder Mrs. Moore did not send some when she knows how fond I am of them," and she rung the bell and ordered them. They were indeed deliciouj^ and had been raised in her own lorciiMF hooa es. When they had been tried stifemMt ly, she "ote from the table and wrapped herself in a thick woollen shawl which Mrs. Moore brought, and changed her slippers lor a pair of lined and padded shoes." "It is my time for going into the chap el, my dear, l'ray amuse yourseli as you like iur n In tie wuiie. I shall be beck in half en hour el the latest." I look some breed in my hend end went down to feed the swan*. The sen whs selling end the water was tinged with a golden light, the birds were ting' ing their vespers now, and the beauty ol the evening was over all. Yet it did not move me as it always had done before 1 felt stupid, and cross, and sleepy, and after ioesing the bread into the water, and strolling round the grounds a little while, I went back into the clove morning room, and waited for my friend She came, chilly and shivering, from her de votions and made me take a glass of wine with bar, before sl>e lard aside bar wrsp pings. Then we sat down to a game of chess which lasted till Bupper lime. At that meal 1 partook of cold pheasant, Strasbourg pie and Rhenish wine, then cauie family prayers, and I was at liberty to ;etire. What dreams visited my pil [ low, may easily be imagined, and 1 was only too glad to see, the next morning, | on the breakfast table, a business letter [ which made my immediate return to ' I T Ul_J l.? I I *??? 1 unuo 111 J &iiiu mm | , loss farewell? reached London by even- 1 injr?8hw my lawyers, aud ibe next day w hs stretched upon a sick bed, from which I did not rise lor more than a week. I never visited the Grange again, for its mistress died during the ensuing win ter. I shw the notice of her death in the | 1 paper, one morning as I sat at breakfast. She had retired quite well at ten. At twelve she grew restless (so the report | said) and called the housekeeper, who brought her "a few biscuit6 and a glass [ of wine." After partaking of these she dropped to sleep again. The housekeep er going into her bed-room at six the next morning with a cup of coffee, found her lying upon her side quite dead. There had evidently been a struggle at the last, for her hands we?e clenched, and her face dibcolored. The physician who was summoned, decided that the symptoms were those of apoplexy. Thus spoke the newspapers over my poor friend. I met many ol her acquain taucea thai day. One and all rejected the idea suggested by the physicians.? "Apopolexy I How very vulgar! No? poor Mis By lhl.1 had been long suffering Irom?from a kind of unknoton dixeaxe ! I and now it had killed her at last! Poor thing !' I said nothing. Hut remembering my one day at By field Grange, i was not so strongly inclined an they to dispute the the verdict the honest physician had given. Unlearned men at table. Some of the errors which are liable to be coiii milled through ignorauce of usa^e, are pleasantly poiuied OUl in ihe following story, which is related by a French writer : The Abbe Cossou, Professor in the College Mazarin, thoroughly accoin I pished in the art of leaching, saturated i with Greek, Luiii and Literature, considered hiuiaell a perfect well of science ; be bad no conception that a uian who knew all persons and iletiuu by heart, could possibly coin nut an error?above all, an error at table. Put it was not long before be discovered liis mistake. One day, alter dining with llie Abbe de Radonvniers, at Versailles, in company with I several courtiers and Marshals of b ranee, be was boasting ot the rure acquaintance with etiquette and custom which he had exhibited at diuner. The Abbe lMile who beard his eulog) upon his own con duct, interrupted his harangue, by offer ing to wager that he had committed at leas' a hundred Iinpropneiies at the la hie. 'llow is it possible,' exclaimed Cos son. '1 did exactly iike tbe rest of the company.' 'V\ hat absurdity !' said the other ? | 'You did thousands ot tilings which no I one else did. Fust, 'what did you do with | \ our napkin V 'My napkin !' why just what every body else did with theirs. 1 unfolded it entirely, and fastened it to my buttonhole.' 'Well, my dear friend.' said Delile. 'you were I lie only ne that did that, ai a I events. No one bangs up his napkin in thai style, they are content with pla o ng it on their knees. And what did you do when you took up your soup ?' 'Like the others, I believe. 1 took my -poon in one bund and the fork in the oilier? Your fork. Who ever eat soup with a fork ! Hut to proceed. After your soup, what did you eat ?' 'A fresh egg.' 'And what did you do with the shell !' 'Handed it to the servant who stood behind my chair.' 'Without breaking it, of course.' Well, my dear Abbe, nobody eats eggs without breaking the shell. And alter the egg?' 1 asked the Abbe HandonVillers to enJ me a piece o) hen near him.' HIplh mv tAlll /vf ?i?w * ? .v? . ? J I'lwo VI IUC II OU ? Ycu never speak of bens excepting in tbe barnyard. You should have asked for fowl or chicken. Hut you say nothing of your mode of driuking.' 'Like all the rest, I asked for claret and champagne.' 'Let me inform you, then, that persons * always ask for claret wine, and chain pagne wine. Hut tell roe. IIow did you eat your bread V 'Surely I did that properly. I cut it with my knife in the most regular manner possible.' 'Bread should always be broken, not cut. But tbe coffee, how do you man K* ?* ' Ml was rather too hot, and I poured a little of it into my aaucer ' Well, vnu (vitnmillasi it.* eat fault of all. You abonld never pour your coffee into the aaucea, but alwaya r drink it frotu the cup.' The poor Abbe waa confounded. He felt that though one might be maater of the aeven aciencea, yet there were another , apeciea of knowledge, which, if lata digni i fled, waa equally important. Thia occurred maoy yeara ago. But i there la not one of the obaervancee neglected by the Abbe Coaeon, which la not i enforced with equal rigidneea in the piee. eat day,?V/ote to bekavt. Blackberry Wine. Tbia wine if rightly made, i* to our taste, better than any Catawba that ever came from Loogworth'a cellars, and we have been at tbe trouble of procuring the following receipts for its manufacture : from one wbo knows all about iL. 1 "To one gallon of blackberries, add one pint ot boiling water, let it stand until it begins to ieriueut, then press otf the liquid aud add a half pound of the best brown sugar, put in a cool place until fermentation has nearly ceased, whicli will be in eight or ten days, according to tbe temperature of the weather, then cork up tbe vessel closely until fall, then wine should be bottled, lie careful to cork tbe vessel before tbe wine becomes too acid, even should tbe leruientation be rather active. Tbe above recipe makes tbe best wine, J Din ttie following is more approved by j ! some as yielding more wine and nearly I as good t To a gallon of juice pressed from the I berries, add two quarts of water and three and a half pounds of sugar, and proceed as in the tirsi recipe. Anybody who drinks wine by itself stands in some danger of becoming a "guzzler," so here is a recipe for making something good to eat with it : To make good mock mtnce pies?mix one cup of sugar, one of molasses, one and a half of bread crumbs, one of cider vinegar, one of seeded raisins, and four of water, three eggs, one ounce of cloves, one ounce of soda?this will make material enough for thiee pies. Coffkk.? No one article goes so far towaid making or spoiling a hreaklast or a supper as a good or bad cup of cotiee. YVaah the nerry thoroughly, aud put it immediately into a warm oven, with a In tie tire under u and a little on the lid. Every three or tive minutes, lift the lid and stir, bake it thus until it is so crisp j as to be easily crushed between the thumb aud linger. It will then be of a light brown color. Whether gioumi 1111 ! mediately or not, put it into au air light vessel. Liuvb the vessel in which it is to be boned well rubbec and dried in the sun. l'ut in the cotiee while the water is cold, and let it come to the boil.' The white of au egg, beaten and stirred in, will settle it perlectly clear, though if the pievious directions have beeu observed, it will settle v?ry well of itself. Much, of course, will depend on the quality of the berry. But by these di* rectiotis you juhv make better cotl'ee of good ordinary berry then of the best quality, parJied iu the ordinary way, and with the dust that is ou almost all cotlee. Bit Instant.? As hn illustration of the benefit of lite word filly spoken, or written, the following inay be taken : Whitfield was once stopping at the house of a general in the artny living in Khode Island ; as he was ato >t to depart the thought struck him, 'I have not said anything to this man or his family specially a'oout their souls, and it is now too late.' lie turned to the window and wrote with his diamond ring upon .lie glass, 'One thing lLou iackesl.' Alter he was gone the general went up to the room and at once read the 6enleuce in the window. It was an hot arrow to his heart God blessed it, and he became a converted man. The etching is still there on that pane of glass to day, and Witfield and the general are in heaven.' A Mothkr'b Love.?Some of our read ?rs may recollect a thrilling ballad which was writted on the death of a woman who perished in the snow drifts ol the mountains. That mother bore an infant on her bosom, and when the storm raged loud and furious, true to a motliei's love, she rent her own garment, and wrapped it around her babe. The morning found her a corpse, hut ber babe survived and grew to manhood. How thrilling must be bis thoughts of that mother. Lei sons when far away from home, on the land or sea, when the eye of no mother is up on ibem remember her love and be restiained bv it from entering the path of vice. I^et them say nothing, do nothing, which a mother wonftd oot approve, and they will never hritrtf down her gray baira with sorrow to the grave. Double.?The most beautiful flowers are those which are double, such hs J-..I I _!_t- ? II noimie, pious, aouoie roues, and double j dahlias. What an argument is thia a gainst the chilling deformity of aingle blessedness 1 Go marry I' ia written on every thing beautiful that the eye rests upon, beginning with the birda of Para due, and ending with apple blossoms.' To Kkep Preserves?Apply the white of an egg. with a auitable brush, to a aingle thickness of white tissue paper, with which cover the jars, overlapping the edges an inch or two. When dry, the whole will become aa tight as a dtum, i To prevent jama, preserves, Ate., from graining, a teaapoonful of cream of tartar must be added to every gallon of the jam or preserves. Mercury Num.?-Why should a false* . hood, be considered good aethonty t | Because it can be r# limi on. At what peried of life does a young lad? devote herself to arithmetic! When the begins to tigk for (cipher) It low, IBotnonms. Laziness begins in cobwebs and ends in iron chains. It creeps over a man so slowly and imperfectly that be is bouud tight before he knows it. An Irish musician, who now and then indulged iu a glass too much, was accosted by a gentleman with ? 'Pat what make your face so red 1' 'Please yer honor, said Pat '1 always blush when I speak to gentlemen.' Rather a foppish feilow being at a meeting, made some proposals which were objected to by a tanner. Highly enraged, 'Sir,' says he to the farmer,? 'do you know that 1 have been at two universities, and at two colleges in each university ?' 'Well, sir,' said the farmer, 'What of that? I had a calf that sucked two cows, and the observation 1 made was, the more be sucked, the greater calf he grew.' Evidence ok Folly.? Asking the publisher of a new periodical how many copies he sells per week. Makiug yourselves, disagreeable and wondering that no one will visit you. Gelling drunk, and complaining the next day of the headache. Neglecting to advertise, and wondering that you do not succeed in business. Item sing to take a newspaper, and being surprised that the people laugb at your ignorance. Truth will not accommodate it6eif to us, my son, but we must couform ourselves to truth. Ladies and Fowkus?'Ked cheeks are only oxygen in another shape. Girls anxious to wear a pair will find them where the roses d<\ out of doors.' 'Will they, indeed !' remarked Miss Josephine iloops, as she laid down the number of the paper containing the extract. 'Well, if doing as the roses do will help a lady to color, one might as well never gel up at all ; for I'm certain sure that the dowers stay in their beds all the day. Now, if I'm ever metamorphosed into anything horticultural, 1 hope it will be into a cainelia ; luey are the only vegetables that ever get a chance to go to the Opera? gracious goodness.' Don't Take tub Padbr.?Some years ago, a lady noticing that a neighbor was not in Iter seat at church one ??ubbaih, called, on her return home, to inquire what could detain so punctual an attem danl. On entering the house she found the family busy at work. She was surprised when her friend addressed her: 'Why, la! where have you been to day, dressed up in your Sunday cloll.ee ?' To meeting' 'Why, what day is it ?' Sabbath day.' Sal, stop washing this minute! Sabbath day ! Well, I did not knew, for my husband has got so plagued stingy that lie won't take the paper, and we know nothing. Well, who preached !' Mr. ' 'What did he preach about V 'It was on the death of our Saviour.' Why is he dead ! Well, all Boston might be dead, and we know nothing about it! It won't do, we mu6t have the paper again, for everything goes wrong without it ! Bill has almost forgot bis reading, Polly has got quite mopish again because she lias got no poetry and stories to read. Well, if w'n hitue m tul.? ? ? -- , - - V .w fcnnw f* vnil load of onions and potatoes to market, I am resolved to liave a newspaper.' Newark of Widows.?It would seem from the following petition that the widows of the "olden time," like the same very bewitching class of the present day had a great facility of winding themselves into the tortuous laharynths of Bachelors' heaits and "snapping up the young men.' There no doubt is much truth as well as infinite humour in the safe advice given by that veiy remarkable individual, the elder Mr. Weller to that promising sprig, Weller No. 2. 'Sainivel, my son, beware of the Vidders.' The following petition, signed by sixteen maids of Cbarlerton was presented 11 the Governor of that province on March 1 1733: To his Excellency Gov. Johnson : The bumble petition of all maids wbose names are underwritten : Whereas, we, the humble petitioners, are, at present, in a very melancholy dis position of mind, considering how all the bachelors are blindly captivated by widows, and our youthful charms thereby neglected ; the conneouence of this, our pp/iiiAflt ia t li a ?a..? l< waaII-s.*- ?" ;VMI uAcriiriicy WIII, IUI the future, order that no widow aball, for the future, presume to marry any young | man till the maida are provided for; or ; else pay, each of them, a fine for antiafacI tion for invading our liberties; and likewine a fine *o be laid on all auch bachelor* a* ahall be married to widows. The great disadvantage it ia to ua old maida ta, that the widows, by their forward earring**, do anap up the young men, and have the vanity to think th?ir merits beyond ours, which is a great imposition on ua who have the preference. Thia is humbly recommended to your Excellency's consideration, and hope yon will prevent any fuuher insults And we poor maids, as duty bound, will ever pray. P. ft.?I being the oldeat maid, arid thereby moat concerned, do tbir.k it prop, er to be the messenger to yonr Excellency in bebslf of my leiiow subscribers.