University of South Carolina Libraries
?i ?HIH ? . ' an_ _ mmmmm*mmm?Z? '-' - - ?' J^T. J!" "J _ _ _ , jjjf B t? 'rt QW ^ V ' ' V 'jl~ ^f^i"~"'~ ~-7~-7:-*" '"' I 'til# "Wilis' rfl SMW) (#%$! Sll MHSH^'S' J L; - :>"vi ,rs .->* I 11 y, I ! I , O i il r Bl ;; it \ I Ir t-#?! I #|i AV /4fe* V- /-;> 4 h-J Xy # l:> * >- ^ V |1 1^' >>' 4 ' /%' /M #- I ^? > 111/ *. * il?ij v... v_. - 1 DEVOTED TO MTBRATUBE, THE ARTS, BCIEBCE, AGRICULTURE, NEWS, POLITICS, &.C., &S. ~"TTT!? j I TERMS?TWO DOLLARS VBR ANNUM,] "I?et it be Instilled into the Hearts of your Children that tho Liberty of the Press is tlio Palladium of ail yonr Ri^ts."?,/ilHti'i. [PAYABLE IN ADVANCE VOLUME G?NO. 19. ABBEVILLE C. II., SOUTII CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 10, 1858. WHOLE NUMBER279 I RATE OF ADVERTISING-. The Proprietors of the Abbeville JJaimcr and Independent Prer\ have established the followng rates of Advertising to be charged in both papers : Ever}' Advertisement inserted for a less time than three months, will be charged by the insertion at One liollnr per Square, (li inch ?the space of l'isolid lines or les#,) for the first user!ion, and I* ifty CeillH for each subsequent insertion. The Commissioner's, Sheriff's, Clerk's and Ordinary's Advertisements will be inserted i n both papers, each charging half price. Sheriffs Levies, One Dollureach. CST" Anuouiicinga Candidate, Five Dollars. Advertising an Estray, Two Dollars, to l)e paid liy the Magistrate. Advertisements* inserted for three months, or longer, at the following rates : 1 square 3 months $5 00 1 square 6 months 8 00 1 square 9 months 10 00 1 square 12 months ...... 12 00 2 squares 3 months ...... 8 00 2 squares 6 months 14 00 2 squares 9 months 18 00 2 squares 12 months ...... 20 00 3 squares 3 months 10 Oil 3 squares G months - 1?? <?0 3 squares 9 months 21 00 3 squares 12 months ------ 25 00. 4 squares 3 months ------ 12 00 4 squares 0 months 20 00 4 squares 9 months - 20 00 4 squares 12 mouths 30 00 f> squares 3 months 15 00 5 squares G months ------ 25 00 r? squares 9 months 31 00 fi squares 12 months ------ 35 00 5 squares 3 months - 20 00 j r> squares G months 30 00 j 0 squares 9 months - - - - 36 00 ! IS squares 12 months - - - - - 40 0(1 I - .... i 7 squares ;i mounts ...... ^,, 7 squares 6 moi; 85 (id j 1 squares ft montti; 41 00; 7 squares 12 months - 45 00 8 squares 3 months - - - 30 00 i K squares 6 months ------ <10 00 | 8 squares '.t months ------ -It; 00 j 8 squares 12 months - " r\ - - 00 00 i Fraction* of Squares will be charged in pro- j portion to the above rates. C.3?" Business Cards for the ter:n of one . year, Mill he charged in proportion to the I space they occupy, at One Dollar per line : spaeo. zw For all advertisements set in double col- ! Fifty per Cent, extra will he added to the I above rates. DAVIS A. CREWS, For Banner ; LEE <fc WILSON. For J'retts. j ? MISCELIiANY. ~ From "Porter'* Spirit o f the Time*." THECASTLE ONTHEBOCK; OR, TIIK WILD HORSEMAN. A German Tale. BY DI VERNON. ! " Margarite! Margarite !" "Here I am, dear father !" was the low, soft reply froin the lips of n fairy like creature of fifteen summers, as she sprang to ! the side of the old, grey bearded man, who j was sitting in his easychair smoking a huge j mcerchauin, watching, at the same time, , the descent of the sun, as it disappeared, slowly behind the waters of the Zuyder Zee. ? "My child, do not go over to Haarlem Forest this night. There's a fiery dart in the sun's last rays, which tells me the Wild Horseman will be abroad. You know his favorite victims are gentle young maidens, like yourself." "1 will not go to-night, dear father," replied Margarite, with a crimson blush on her cheeks, and her eyes went to the floor. Fear of the Wild Horseman did not call forth the emotion which the maiden could not suppress?it was some other feeling, best known to herself. ** "So bo it,, my clijld. Now; kiss your old father, and fro to your chamber." Margarite obeyed, and when alone jn the solitude of her chaste and puie litlio bedroom, looking out of the casement upon the softly shining queen of night, her hands were clasped together, and a murmur came from her rosy lips of "Aldebrand, O Aidebrand 1" Hark! what was that ? Tho faint sound of a hunter's horn, echoing through the recesses of the Haaflem Forest, which forest lay about half a mile in the rear of the Castle on the Rock?said 'rock towering grimly over the beautiful bay called the Zuzder Zee. From the chamber window, Margarite , could plainly distinguish the outlines of tlic j shadowy forest; and ae the sound of the I horn again faintly reached ber ear, the I ? J Li. j . I - I rawueu ireiuuieu , coma il wave ueeii irom feat? The Wild freeman Rarely was abroad. ' V. Andwho was Jhe Wild Horseman? yotti nek, whoso flame alone sent a thrill of terror through the hearts of the peaceful denizens of (to surrounding country. None could' e^y with' certainty, who he was; he was generally supposed to b? no mortal man, but some r&tiess qiirit, whose human life bad. been one of crime, aud wasfcow un^fergoiqg penance for , the heinous sins of his formdr existdfrce. sooner bad the shades of night folly dei&ntfwihipon the earth, than fte'idlrt ling sound of tho Wild Horteman'i b$gTe woke the eoboe* of tb? fo*#t,*sd? aent a. to ??7, Mftrgari& felt no fear, dtiobgh^he girl?living, as ?he ***, iCi 1 superstition held undisputed sway over the minds of tbo massed. As the castle clock struck twelve that night, a trampling of hoofs sounded beneath the maiden's cnsemont. Light must have been Iier slumbers, for she started from her couch, and throwing n mantle over her shoulders, stepped noiselessly to tlie window. Beware, Margarite! Should it bo him, the terrible one! thy bravery will not save tbee. It was him, tlio Wild Horseman ! Ti?o moonlight revealed him sitting like a statue upon ilie blackcst steed eye ever glanced upon. Tlie maiden spoke no word, without a moment's hesitation caught up something from her cscritoire, and hurled it from the window upon the head of the midnight rider?which lieau rested for a moment, upon his horse's mane; and then, with a hound like a mountain roe, the steed left the rock upon which he stood, and was lost to si??ht in the distance. Margarite, with a stange calmness, again sought the couch ; but Ii<iht were the slumbers that visited her eyelids the rest of that night. In the morning, when meeting her aged sire at the breakfast table, Margarite *eemed pensive and preoccupied, and the baron, kissing her cheek, suid : "Heard vou the midnight. lmnrl.? mv * - ? O *?" *' "V child??My heart trembled when its shrill sound met mine cars." '*1 heard it, my father," replied Margarite turning pale. "1 deemed also, petlwps it was only a fancy, that the ring of a horse's hoofs sounded on the castle rock about midnight hour." Margarite at these words, grew yet paler, but was still silent. "Fear not, dear child !" continued the ; Baron, "ihou wilt soon have no cause to j fear. I will tell thee a secret. Come' hither! In one week's time, my love, thou j wilt have a protector, who bears a younger ! !?rirl rrv??rr<?r m m tl.or* I ..... ... IMIII VIIOM IIIIIIC* X U OUU! I, I dear child, Count Oscar, the son of my old ! companion in arm?, the Baron Drumholdt, j is on his way hither to make lliec his bride. I marvel lie has not reached us long ere this. But, Margaiite ! what ails thee ? why dost thou tremble? Mein, (Jolt I child von j ?vill not faiut!" Margaiite did look as if she would faint j for a few moments?but rallying with a ! strong effort, slie said : "It is nothing, my : father; I am well now." j 'I would Oscar wer here !" muttered the! old man to himself; "his presence mighl j clear away the mclancholy and gloom that seems of late to hang over ber. Give me , some tea,Margaiite; we'll see the roses on ; thy checks again shortly." I i A week had pawed. Again the bell of i the castle clock had chimed tlio midnight hour, and again through the dense forest echoed the loud, clear notes of the Wild Horseman's bugle. This night, Margarite did not press her couch, but sat at her open casement looking forth upon the landscape, lighted not by the monn this time, but by innumerable sf&rs, whose brilliancy nearly j equalled the moon's rays. A faint sound of swift hoofs was heard in the distance?it came nearer; until Margarite discerned the forms of a blaok horse and stately rider rapidly ascending the rock upon which stood the castle. Another moment, and steed and rider stood motionless and silent beneath the window. What did tho maiden then ? Wh must, p.nnfoss llmt Imr was exceedingly strange. Wrapping a mantle around her, and drawing the hood over her face, she quietly opened her chamber *loor, and swiftly-odescendod the long stairway. The Wild Horseman remained below mentionle&s as a 6tone statue. Now, render, prepare to 6eesomelhingfrightful! We are going to show you the terrible midnight rider?the being whose namo terrified the surrounding country?whose bugle notes awed every creature within hearing of them ?the rapid trampling of whoso horse's irutishod hoofs caused every m<jftal to fly? as if pursued by a demon. Now, are you prepared to see him as ho is? Well, then, i ll show turn to you. Hjcqfr he sits, upon that powerful steed,. wlioH^amps It is bit proudly, and paws the air with Jiis fore-foot; there he sits?tall, 'graceful, young, and noble-looking?wjib a. face and form well calculated to win 'the heart of a lovely, romantic girl. That's liira ! Aldebratid the Wild Horseman. Hash! hespeaks! I* tbat-riqh, musical vcic.o, the voice of a demon 1 ' Impossible L Listen! *Tbouj?rtOeroe, then* dearest Margqrite 1 .?BlesS &fte, sweet one 1 Thy h&t)d, dear maiden; (ill I lift Ibee ^n tbe saddle before me:.- JErebu# w?H tear 1^9 marvy a mile ere IK* nf/la> " ill* UWW M V? ^ ( J ^ J "AlSebrand" said tbe yoirog |pri, dilrnly, ?nd tbtfe ??*?" twmV^iii^Use/ ^ y^*ptne to bid'tbee a last farewell!" -but I' I may not go with thee. I cannot forsake | my father, who loves me. liemorso would j | follow me to the crave." I . 1 ' Say rather, proud maiden ! false girl!"' , j retorted her lover, haughtily, "that some j j more favored suitor awaits thy hand " j j "One does await mv hand"?Aldebrand : | started?"but I have never even seen him. j My father has betrothed mc to him, anil he j j comes lo morrow to the Castle. Though I ' ! may not wed thee, Aldebrand, my faith Khali not be plighted to him." i "His name, maiden! his name! tell me | that!" j "Count Oscar, sot) of the Baron Drum I holdt," was her faint reply. j A strange peculiar expression crossed the j features of Aldebrniul, and there was a Hash | in his eye that Margarite did not underj stand, l'lacing his hand beneath his vest, he drew forth a silken scarf. "A week ago to night, this, thy gift, i meant as a talisman of hope, came fluttering from thy casement upon my head, j Take it back! Farewell!" He was gone ! gone forever! No more i would Margarita listen to the soil,rich voice j ; that always charmed her ear, no more would J j she meet the siixht of those deep blue eyes : | tlmt sent magnetic rays of love into her soul ?no inoic ! no more! ! _ _ i It was high noon on the following d av, I 7 e? . ' , I when a "solitary horseman',b.lowly ascended ! ! the castle rode. Dismounting at (lie princ.ij pal entrance, lie was received obsequiously ' ; by the Huron's retainers. and while bis I ; steed was led to the stables, the stranger ; was escorted to the grand hall, where the i Baron himself awaited his entrance. "Count Oscarannounced the gray| haired butler, as be ushered in the stranger. "Welcome, my son !" said the Baron. embracing him. "Mine ancient friend might well be proud to own thee, Oscar." j "Thanks for the compliment, most veil eiated sire!" replied the young Count,! gracefully, as he took the seat offered him, i "bu^where is in}' bride elect the fair Mar- | garitc." 'Sll/? ?'!!! lwi l./.f/. .rnunlto Af.? ! .. ... x-v. uuiu j/n.i".uin . mvillii llil**, . partake of some refreshments, tny son. A glass of this old lllic-in wine will revive the." The young Count pledged the 1'aron ! in a brimming glass, but declined the offer* j ed refreshment. A noble looking fellow was the bridegroom elect?and no one but . would say that the fair Margarite might j yield him her band, lie Mood near the ' window, with his eyes fixed on the door by : which he supposed she would enter, and bis , face beamed into the purest pleasure and i hope. At last, I ho door slowly opened, and i Margarite, pale as death, and with eyes ! east on the floor, tremblingly advanced, i Her father hastened to her side, and taking i her hand, led her passively to the side of J | the Count, who also trembled, but with a j different emotion. * r\ " iA>uub v^suar, greei mv onue. Alarga- ! rite, give him thy hand." ] Without raising her eves; the young girl j murmured : "Father, I?cannot?" "Margarite !" softly said the musical tones j of the young Count. Thai voice/ Now sho looked up and i j tottered back into the Baron's anus, gasping, , "O Aldehrand !" What ! exclaims the fair reader, Count j Oscar, the Wild Horseman 1 Fact! sweet lady?he was?or rather had been. 1 will explain, as he did, when Margarite had recovered her serenity, and they sat together upon tli6 divan, their hands clasped, and eyes brimming with happy love. Knowing from childhood that he was betrothed by his father to Margarite, Cgunt / v I / ' ~ vyscar, uumg 01 a romantic turn ot mind, determined to see and become acqnaintcd with the maiden iu disguise. For a limo lie could think of no cxfiedient to gain access to her, until hearing continually of the superstition concerning the Wild Horseman, who was believed to haunt the Haarlem forest, he coDcludcd to act the midnight rider in propria persona. And so I10 did ' ?terrifying the whole country?until one J night, he chanced to meet the maiden at i the foot of the Castlo rock, and succeeded iu assuring her that he was a mere mortal lik<? herself?gave his nnme us Aldebrand, . and, in short, wooed her at the first intcr' view so successfully?for ho was of a very | ardent native, atfttio procrastination about ! liim?that he gained^her consent to allow I him occasional interviews from her wind^j,|Tbe jyt, the reader knows. And to finjR" ibe sTTry, of course^lfiey were niar?j?<i. I o n or a s ck.-?'^pcre vwas a' time when ignorance could scprcely he* called a vice. Iy the ^ark nges, i^nofftnce w^9 a matter r ofti'etorfity .witb the great^rtllf of Vtt&nkiq0\ . and we ought r?tbef .|o pfy'lue tniitakeo; j notioWi and rude ferocity of in on rjcrs to, . which that ignorance give rise/ftti&j^hftf coipleqtwripM otXLcaufc o\&- which our nncc^ors lia^J T\O0fittlTo\t than to ridicule Not Ashamed of Ridiculo. I shall never forgot a lesson which I learn- j ed when quite ii lad, at the Academy.? j Among mv school fellows wens Ilartely and Jeinson. Tbey were somewhat older I than myself, and lotlio latter I looked tip | lis a sort of leader in matters of opinion as well as of sport. He was not al heart ma- ' lirious, but he had a fool-ambition of being : thought witty and sarcastic, and he made \ himself feared by a besetting liabit of turn- | itig into ridicule, so that beseemed contin- ! unlly on the look-out for matter of deris- J lull. llartc-ly was a now scholar, and little was ! known of liitn among the boys. One inorn- | ing, as we were on our way to school, lie j was seen driving a row along llie road lo- 1 ward a neighboring field. A group of boys, i among whom was Jenison, met him as ho ! was passing. The opportunity was not lo i he lost by Jenison. Halloa!" he oxc-laim- ! ed, "what's the price of milk? I say. Jo- ! uathnn, what do you fodder on ? What j will you take fur the gold on her horns? Bovs, if you want to see the latest l'aris j style, look at those boots!" llartely, waving his hand to us with a pleasant smile, and driving the cow to the i field, took down the bars of a rail fence, saw j her safely in the enclosure, and then, putting up the bars, name and entered school | with the rest of us. After school in the af- j ternoon, ho let out the cow and drove lier , < 0*. none of us knew whero. An<l everv - i biy, for two or three weeks, lie went through the same task. The hnvs of H. Academy wore nearly all tht; sons of wealthy parent-*, and some of tln-m, simong whom was Jettison, were duncos enough to look down with a sort of di-daiu upon a scholar who had to.drive a cow. The sneers and jets of .1 Vinson were j accordingly often renewed. lie once, on a plea that he did not like the odor of the barn, refused to sit next to Hartley. With admirable good nature did Hartley bear ail these s-.illy attempts to wound and ! annoy him. I do not remember that Inwas even once betrayed into a look or word j of angry retaliation. "I suppose, Hartley,'' j said Jemson, one day, ' ! suppose your'lad- i <Iv means to make a milkman of you."? Why not ?" askci Hartley. "Oh, nothing; only don't leave much water in the cans.after you rinse them ? that's all!" The boys laughed, and Hartley, not in the least mor- i tilled, replied, '"Never fear; if ever I should ; rise to he a milkman, I'll giyc good mens- : uic and good milk." The day after this conversation there whs . public exhibition, at which a number of la- j dies and gen'Jprflon fiom neighboring cities i were present. <T'iizea were offered by the Principal of our Academy, r.tnl both Hart- ; ley and Jemson received a creditable nuni- ; ber; for, in respect to scholarship, these two were about equal. After the ceiemonv ! of distribution, the Principal remarked that there wns rmo nrij.' rmici^tirn* .. >? I 1 medal, which was rarely awarded, not so much on account of its great cost, as be- j cause the instances were rare which ' rendered its bestowal proper. It was the 1 prize of heroism. The last boys who re ceived oue was young Manners, who, threo ; years ago, rescued the blind girl from drown- I ing. The Principal then said thai, with the permission of the company, lie would relate a short story. "Not long since, somo teholars were flying ft kite in tho 6treet, just as ; ? poor boy on horseback rode by on his'j way to the mill. The horse took fright and j threw (he boy, injuring so badly that he j was carried home, and confined 6ome weeks j to liis bed. Of the the scolars who bad j unintentionally caused the disaster, none fol- t lowed to learn the fate of the wounded boy. 1 There was one scholar, however, who had witnessed the accident from a distance, j who 'rtot only went to make inquiries, but i staid to render services. "Thisscholar 6oJftIearued that the wounded boy was the grandson of a poor widow, whose Sole support consisted in selling the milk of a fine cow, of which she was th^ owner. Alas ! what could she now do ?? She was old and lame, and her grandson, on whom sh? depended to drive the cow?h) j pasture, was now on bis baek helpless.? i "Never mind, good woman" wlid th<| scbol- j . . j Br, "I can drive Ihe cow." Witli blessing nnd thanks Iho old woman accepted his ofFur. ' ? V ^ MBot his kindness did hot slop hen:.? Mon<^ was Wanted to get articles from, the apothecary. Ml?have money that ray mother sent me to buy a pair of.boota with; but I can do without them, for a whilt# "Oh no," Fnid the ol<J'wom&n,; "I can't. consent lo thftt; bill !u#l is n pair ofcdwhid'es booj^ that 1 bought for lt?Dry, who chiiV wear them. Ifyou'wtfUjit oujg bu/lttem^jviij^ u? wy&Wl g?fijotfgi?M%,^1 Tjbe 9h*toaSii a L_ik*. i rrii^krfifa jfciiflfriifV rtffifrtifi Afi uJa in at lor of mirth. But he kept on cheerfully and bravely, daiy after day, never shunning observation, ami driving the widow's cow, and wearing his illicit boots, contented in the thought that he was doing right ?caring not for all the jeers and sneers that could beutteied. lie never undertook to explain why he drove a cow; for he wns not inclined to make a vaunt of his charitable motives ; furthermore, in his lieart he had .1 - ?:.i .1- - r t *1.1 . 1 . iiu t>yni])iiiny wiiii in*; laise pniic inal coil III look down with ridicule 011 any useful employment. It was by mere accident that his coursr of kindness and self-denial was yesterday discovered l>y his teacher. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to you : was there not true heroism in this boy's conduct? 2say, Master Hartley, do not slink out of sight behind the blackboard ! You are not afraid of ridienle, you must not be afraid of prai-c. Come forth, come forth, Master Ed ward James Hartley, and let us see your honest face !" As Hartley,' with blushing cheeks, made his appearance, what a round of applause, I in whic h the whole company joined, spoke : the general approbation of his conduct!? T! ic ladies stood upon benches and waved their handkerchief*. The old men wiped the gatliciing moisture from (he corners of their eye.-, and clapped their hand?. Those clumsy boots on Hartley's feet seemed a prouder ornament than a crown would have, been on his head. The medal was bestowed on him amid general acclamation. Let nie tell you a good thing of Jem?.u before I conclude, lie wa& heartily a>hame.l of his ill-natured raillery, and after we were dismissed, he went with tears of manly selfrebuko in his eyes, and tendered his hand to Hartley, making a handsome apology f<>r his past ill manners. "Think no more of it old fellow,"' said Hartley, with delightful cordiality; "let us ali go and have n iambic in the woods before we break up for vacation." The hovs. one and nil. followed .Iem?on's example ; ami then we set forth with huzzas into the woods. What a happy day it was!?Liltl : Hoy's Treasury. Journal of 3 Defeated Candlduto. The followinr; may suit the case of hundreds of individuals: Tuuhsuay.?deceived the.nomination of an office i>. the City Councils. .Surprised and indignant. ih*monstrated with committees. Was told I place myself in tho hand ; of my friends. Eventually did so. Friday.?Immense poM.-r on a biick pile opposite my house; my name in two foot- letters, ''rout anguish >.n the part of my wife and family, who believe that eveiy olfieer of the city government must, according to lan, be indicted* and tried at the end of Ids term. Friends meet in the streets, say that there is a minor about town that I am out for office, which rumor ougfit to he publicly con'i acted. Otlmr 'fjiends ofIV1* ironical con_riadulfttions? attd^leaves me in doubt whether the officii i^ unfit for rne, or 1 for the office. Old-gentleman says ho will not believe it; for h'df knew my father, and lie was a respectable man. Sati'kday.?Man on roof of my house, with a big stick and terrier. 13rpad shouldered, slovenly person, with sanguinary e^e. Came to advise me to beware of a class of rutlians that go round election times extorting money from candidates. Offers his services to tend the pulls. Customary, ho says, to pay in advance. I refer him to my committee, lie whistlen-to his dog.? Engage him at five dollars, cash .down.? We part with expressions of mutual esteem. Going in, find six men smoking in my parlor. Delegates from a target exftiirssion.? Customary, they say, for candidates to give prizes on tlieso occasions. Refer them to my committee. Captain, very polite; tells me lie will give time to think about it, and will come on Sunday with tfle whole guard, to see what a find looking set of meu they arc. Ubsi.lt, ten dollars for a prize. Evening. Excij^d person calls for subsection for a banner. Refer him to tnv com* mitlcc. Threatens personal violence, and swears awfully. Subscribe for a.banner.? Man,pomes with a wooden leg; wants a new one. Three more banner men. Clergyman for a subscription to a deserving charity. Seventeen men to attend polls. More cripples. Delegation wants their fire engine painted. Man without arms to post bills. Woman for subscription for coffin. Children nil crying?up stairs. My wife in hysterics. General terror and confusion.? "Mid-night?torch-light . procession ;f kettle drums : serenade ? mnlre-n. nno?r-li V/tltnn etffj hits mo in the eye; general fight} spanners, brick'bats, clubs, banpors, torches, and' data. .?'*'? * WkdVcksday,?Wake up debated. Tell all my friends thai 1 doji't cara for myself, but feel sorry for thoifigy.. My^wifo goes homo to btir mother children ore sent where th$y cannot be undor- my' injjuenco. No home, do friends,no wife, !Ui<l ncytioney. ftcw York' 'fimcH. j? BvIvon's Fikst ?Swfc7-->-Tb iilliffting to the death,.at T3rightofff on the Oth \iltiifiou ofMrj.'Mary Dnift Wtdow ofRobert" CooWburn, the Gla^pw1fwrnld ?. " Webefieva'f this. lady, ^ose^rtftb^utl. was a brother oftW lata f iiorit was Lor<f Byron'sfir^tJcfvo! Th? .BoW?no-et mentions, iHUfee of hts ^T<fh a little boy, r?fldir>g vtilh bis mo^teri'a^?-'. iCrdoen, heartST1 Mtorv Farmers and their Wives. , S;ii?] a young person to u lady,- who sat 1 holding her child, '"Now what pood will nil ; your education do yon ? Yon have spent . do much time in studv, cradnated with | high hotiois, learned music and puir.ting, and now only marmd a farmer. Why do ; not you teach school, or do something to . benilit the woild with your talents; or, if | y clioo?e to marry, why not take a teach< r, a dayman, or some professional man ? But. as it is, you did n<>t need so much learning for a rural life." The lady replied, "You do not look vtrv far into tlio future. 1 Jo you rfce this boy j on my lap ? I need all the study, all tlio discipline, botb o'. mind and lioilv, that I ! could possible get. in order that I may I tram him aright. You set*, 1 have the first , impressions to make on tbe fair blank of j his pure, heart, and unless my mind was ! lirst cultivated, my own heart fust purified, ' how could I well perform that task now ! placed before me? And. besides, do you j not suppose that farmers have hearts "like other nu n, tastes just as pure, because they j guide the plow,and till the soil for their sup| port i l >o you not suppose their minds are ! just as accept ible of cultivation and expansion as other men ? Have they no love of tbe beautiful, in their nature or ait? Cani not good paintings be just as much admired ! on their walls as others, or does the evening i -i ' " nuiir ]lass sis |>i(';:sanuv Willi mem, when th'-y gather around ihe piano after a day's labor is finished ? All, mv young friend, ! you have made a sad mistake in your reckoning." Of a!! occupations, give :ne that of a fariiK*r, It is tin; most healthful, Lis' lift* is free finm caiv, his sleep i>sweeter,his treasures safer. A farmer need not lo be a slave of any. for he has none lo ph ase hut Litnself. Nut so with almost any trademan, mechanic, or professional man. They have more or !?ss to do with the woild at large^ and have ali manner of persons to deal with si that the)- have need of l-hc patieuco of ! Sob to live. They are well aware that they ; must not freely speak their minds at all ; times, : ;.d if they do will lose custom, for tlicv depend upon the people for a living, therefore, they arc the seivantsof all. Then I K Ii.u \.?u u<^ uc^iirii uiuiu juj.K.'LMill, J>ro^U\i; rnu?, honest, healthful anil hnppy than a : farmer's wife? J\foor\ Rural JVi'U' Yorker. Fat Voi?''? ladies nr.:l Vinegar. Taken in moderation, there is no doubt , hat vinegar is b..n<.-fieial; but in excess it the digestive organs. Experiments jonartiftci.u digestion pIiow that, if the , quantity of acid bo diminished, digestion is letarled ; if increased beyond a certain point, i the same result is produced. There is rea! sun, therefore, in the vulgar notion, unV.ap; pily loo fondly relied on, that vinegar helps ^ to ke<*p down any alarming adiposity, and : that l.i lies v.ho dread the disapjientanoe of ' theii graeeful outline in curves of plumpness expanding into ' fat.'' may arrest dreadi ful a result by liberal potations of vinegar ; ; but they can only so arrest it at the far moro dreadffll expenses of their health.? i The amount of acid which will keep them i thin will d<'stt6y their digestive powers.? ; Portal gives a ease which should be a war: nirig: I .v ie\v fiavs ago, a young laity, in easy circumstances. enjoyed good health ; she I was very piump, had a good appotite. 4yd a complexion bloonrng with roses and lilie s. ' .She began to look upou her plumpness with | suspicion ; for her mother was very fat, and j she was afraid of becoming likelier. Aci cordingly, she consulted a woman, who adv vised her to drink a glass of vinegar daily ; ; the young lady followed the advice, and her plumpness diminished. She was delighted ! with the success of the experiment, and con! tinned it for more than a month. She bci gan to have a cough ; It was dry nt its ; commencement, and was considered as a 'slight cold which would go oft". Meantime, 1 from dry it became moist, a slow lever dime | on, and a diflieulty of breathing; her body became lean and wasted away, night sweats, i swelling of the feet and of the legs succeeded | and diarrahoi terminated her life." Therefore, young ladies, be boluly fat! Never pine for graceful sliuiness and romantic parllor; but if Nature means lobe ruddy ; and lotund, accept it with niaugliing grace, i .1, i.;ii i <i n j ? ?* txii iiiviiu uwiliVO kUflli nil ! the jflticncsa of a circulating library. Ladies Journal. i&r I ?. ? i Spkkp ok American Ilonsss.?A inilo ' lias been run in one minuto forty-two and a half seconds. The samo distance has l.^iy trotted in two minutes twgpty-four and a halfsecond^ and paced in two minutes, Ifctfenteen and a half seconds. In the vmy of endurance combined With speed, we read of ten.miles trotted in harness..in twentyeight minutes eight~ atid-.n billiseconds; twenty mijoi under saddla, trctf&in fiftyfivo minutes forty anj|M^ half seconds; And one hundred miles Irbtted in eight hoijru fifty six trtinutes and onosej^nd. 1 >ON FIIlE8*' JVl APE QJ> WOMAS.'?1 110 Louisvijj^ Jourinil ^et.s.of tbe following*; Tbo celebration ori'Tdertlay nigUt^ ge?rnjly parsed of very well, lint \v<*JiatfO t5 RJfi nofrhce -tj^o melancholy ;f^t jjJ^-^3^ferja4 . wp'ni'e'pwvvftjro probably c'jn#daaB<j6g| ^o lorg^oopftres'ip Tbo Wo i ir i a? \ I Dcflcription of take. As tho flrfk"take.,ofa&a Mormon^ I has of lute years become.a plaafoTldwrtiat : to the people of this country, I send you.an j extract of a letter from a rcsid^ftf^of that place, giving some .description of it: "Tbo' lako 19 011 the west si<le of tlio'Valley^ 80 miles long, 4 0 miles \vi^e, without sink 01* j outlet. The deepest water is 4-l .feetj "fnte/j spcrscd with islands, mostly at the nqrtli $nd,. 1 two at the south end, one twenty.miles long. .the other fifteen. On the ea'st 13 island', i i> 1 ' " " i?w.v. a (iii in-L-|>? a iicru 01 somo two. cat-, I lie, a fine nine-lie, plenty of water, plenty of I wood. Tlie west island (Stadbliry'a)i has| very little wood and fresh water,"but fine' , grass; cattle summers and winters on these : islands, making the fattest beef I evor> saw.| I have boiled salt at the south qnd of-tlie i lake, called lilack Rock, for five 'yOari?-; There is on a mountain some 40 miles nottl? | bordering on the lake, any amount of cop. peras and alum. Three years rigo ('51) hree pails of water made one of suit. The lake has risen seven feet in five years. It no.w takes'tfiearly five pails of water to make one of salt, so that not mueli salt makes on the beach uow. Four years ago IJdaded a j wagon in two hours, as handsome cbQJfe i sail as you ever saw, and as good quality. | The water i? impregnated with glauber^ , salts, lime, copperas, alum, muriatic acid. Vto; ! itc. The salt Spring issue from the foot of tlie mountain*. There U-not-'fi'pure - fresh ' water spring on the whole of the south" end. | The spring we use from is too.much flavored to suit strangers. It ia n wild romantic place, but I love it, It is my home?we,w.ero driven from our homes bv n band of ruffian#;that would give us no rest day or night,tt-.i Here we can sleep sweetly ^mid-'tifd; dftslfj ing of waves, the howl of the wolf/and the grisly bear, and the yell of the savage." ? * 1 Home (i\r. Y,) SenlnM^. " Hon. Stephen Allen's Pocket-Piece.J ? Among tiie victims of the "Henry 'Clfty" I tlisnefnr"'* * a t?~~ -- -~-j } ^<v..r.v. , IUI ilgcu , man, formerly a mayor,of New York^baJ loved and esteemed by all who knew iiup. i Iti liis pocket-book was fuund a printed slip : containing life following ndvii:<?. . i ;^'epgood company or none,v- Never ! be idle. * Tfyouc. hands ennnot be.usefully emj>loy~ | ed, attend to the cultivation ofyojjKr mfbd. i Always speak the" truth. Make vfew1 j promises. ' " <? ?" : Live^up to your engagements. i "When*you speak to a inan look bwv,J&' ! the face. j Good character is above all things ela&. *** I Your character cannot be essentially jpjured except by voirr- oAn acts?, . Li j If any man speaks'e'vij ojyort,lutyoujpjfe 1 be Mich tbat'uo onowUtbefievevhim,; * Drink no kinds of* intoxicating . HqjiSrs^ j Live within your incoihe. . ^ "When you retire to "bed", think^oVerrwfitt you have boeifdoiug dming tliedaV?. A" Make no liastc to be rich if you would* i?- . * <? ; prosper. ^ Small and steady gaioa give competency witli tranquility * ! Never play at any gamo of chance)? j* Avoid temptation, tfiroitgb'fear^o'i^rifij? ! not be able to overcorbe iu ^ * y ' ta^ Earn money before yon spend it,; . ^ ; Never borrow, if joa^n possibly .-if#pd* Never speak evil of any outf: vB&Hjj&tv, before yon rregeneral!*.- .'V. { Keep yourself innocent, ^otij^il' lfe' i?ppy- && Save when you are young to you are old. -'%jUKt. HINTS FOR Tiifc ^Aioyaufc?Dig tatoes when the gi oaqdl^is d^^ ^ii'.ca^ . theu gather iheinciree from dffL tljen^ttbwP* ' them nwny under poVQf, will not toflcWtero.' '"V v , *f V . ToadswftrO^#Ji^str pfot?<ftioil?of(^^?5?" /* 'j <... y f .. 1 JW'gyar<> few- grains of Ca^w?? ' Vjf Sulphpf'is yaUiabr^jn pr^S^pD^gj*I^?V' etc.,<from,iCiBee(k? ?'., "V*g, # . Lard nevor spoil? in . j cooked ^t ' In feeding ctorxi, ^Jy p|ju'^#^iitid* giy" ns far as one bundt'od pounds in' Corn meal' &1iould. neVe* , ridjjj^.orU..