Terre-Haute Journal, Volume 6, Number 16, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 January 1854 — Page 1

iVOL.YI.

1 THE TBRBE-UAVTfe JOURNAL, 1 IS niilTCD MB rCIUaUKD BVSRf riUBAr, sv -WILLIAM MOORE AND WM. E. MCLEAN. V/«£giV" Termt

Hihey

tuKfriptttn^

Sugar Cane, frnm which sugar and molasses are produced, is the natural growth **bla tropical climate, and was introduced first from Arabia into Europe. In Spain it was cultivated at an early day With some Success, and by her introduced into her

West India Colonies-—an unnecessary trouble, for it is indigenous to all of them.— CUBA ia now the most important sugar crow* jrig oountry, and from the fact, that there the cane does not require planting but once in 15 or 20 years, and where slave labor is cheaper than in the U. States in consequence of the mildness of the climate and the ^abundance of fruits and vegetables on which

subsist at the same time requiring but ...little clothing, and Iroin the extraordinary yield per acre of the cane owing to the great fertility ol the aoil, it can be produced for less than two els. per pound, and the planters at the same time making fair profits

Now if this duly was taken off, after fair profits to the importer and retailer, it could be sold to the worhlng classes whooonsume so much of it. at about three cents per lb., instead of six or eight cents, which they now pay. The Sugar Cane requires about fifteen months to come tp" full which it can have in Cuba, whereby, the Cane fully ripening, 0 yield is produced in a good season, from 4 to 6000 pounds per •ore, whilst in Louisiana, to save it from the frost, it has to be cut at nine months—of course the juico of the Cane is of inferior quality and deficient in quahtiiyv-1 ^bugar theu being raised so cheaply in Cuba, and in other tropical countries of the east, with this lax taken off. oould be afforded so cheap, that it would scarcely enter into the commutation of a working man's household expenses, whereas no*1 it is one of the heati* est items.

As I am warned to make my articles short, I will stop here for the present, and recur to this part of the subject*next

contrary if hia subscriber* are of the right aort if they are punctual and liberal hearted fellowa, always in advance of the subscription Ust, taking an interest in increasing subscribers, now and then speaking a word for his paper, cheering on hie course with smiles of approbation—with suoh subscribers aa these he must be a dolt indeed, who would not gel up an interesting *Ke«. With suoh patrons as these, we would lay aside

^comfort, ease, leisure, everything that could possibly be asked of us for the gratification every laudable desire on their par*, we *ould seek no other pleasure than their eatisfactfeo- How tnuw then clft tba supporters of a newspaper do to make it interesting and respectable! Indeed without cooctir ring efforts on their part, the pubUsherami attention which is necessary to mak* what it should be, is a thankless tasta^

•Pa is

S3**- -ft

For tlx month* ........ ,W. .$1,00 P«r annam, if paid within six months,.... „^a,00 After the expiration of the year 2,50 If paid on receipt of the fimt paper......... 1,5©

ETNo paper discontinued aatil mtl arrearage* are paid, except el the option of the oroprUt&r*. Term* of mdcrriising f*'#l OnsSqnarethree week*. ....$1,00 Encii additional Insertion per 8j«»re.,......

XT Liberal dlscoont made to yearly adverUaera.

Sugar Dutiee. -fs-

No. 0.—To the People of Indiana. I am much pleated to see that the observations have made, arid the fact* 1 have given as to the enormity and uielenseii of the tax on sugar and molasses, have awakened the attention of the people and of the frees throughout thit State and our sister State, Indiana. The leading journal* in these State* have republished my article* with commendation, and there cannot be a doubt, if the people will it, that this odious tax will be removed at the next session of Congress. So soon a* that body know the want* and demand* of tb* people, eo soon (there being no constitutional objections in the way) their wants will be amended to, and those demands acceded to. I have shown you the enormous profit a sugar planter—in forcing the growth of an exotic —a plant not indigenous to our soil and climate, and only finding a fit home within the tropic—is enabled to make by this tax of thirty per cent, on foreign grown sugar, grown iu a country and climate to which it i* indigenous and cheaply gr iwn, and from which it could be imported, free of duty, and sold to you at three cents per pound, the importer and retailer, at the same time making handsome and fair profits in the business, besides, if this odious tax was taken off, refined sugar, which the working classes seldom use, would be used daily by them for that article, white and pure, if the tax was taken off, could and would be sold to ihem at the tame price they now ,ay for common, brown sugar. They now pay six cents per pound for common brown sugar or even more—take off the tax of 30 par cent, and white refined sugar can and will be sold to them at five cents per pound. I will tell you the reasons why it can be so sold if the tax of 30 per cent, on the importation of foreign grown sugar is removed, and you have the power to remove it. The recent consists in the following facts

TT^3|inipr)r'Tn'i|^^ nrimi

f? t**51' n"?4S

The Wktf Partf ia Cssfrees. The whig party, in apolitical point of view, la perfectly powerless at Waebington and in fact is thoroughly defunct throughout the Union It may occasionally manifest a kind of galvanized vitality in some localities where the great patiee of the Union is divided by sectional dissentions, as in New York, but this galvanized life only results in a few ineffectual kick* at its enemies.

A party that can only demonstrate^ the fact that it is in being, by a faint exhibition of its presence through an unhallowed coalition with abolitionists and secessionists, might as well "not to be* as "to be.' Its real life ha* fled and its departed ghost has entered the body of diseased bantlings and helps to make a loatheaome monstrosity.— If th*re be a whig party at Washington. it can only be seen in a base alliance with th^ avowed enemies of the country. It possesesno independence and representsno principle—it makes commerce of iu favors, and traffics with corruption—it is found only in the company of political free booters and treason mongers. The opposition to the Administration is decidedly inaignificsnt in any open collision it has attained but one point since 'he opening of Congress, and that wa* achieved by a guerrilla *urpri«e.The election of a public printer 10 the Senate is the only triumph of the disreputable coalescence of whig*, disaffected democrats abolitionists and secessionists. This result, which caused the waste of a hundred catriges of powder at New York by the Herald men. and an unnecessary exposure to the night air of a few Washington serenaders.was wholly secured by means of a ruse. Tucker of the Sentinel received but nine demoorat voles, out ol the twenty six cast for him There was seventeen democrat votes cast for Armstrong of-the Union fourteen Senators were absent, eleven of whom would have voted for him had they*been present

Whatever symptoms of strength the op position msy manifest in the ^election of a printer, or the ratification of an unimportant appointment, it is impotent in all matters of national interest. The politics of President Pierce will receive the almost unanimous support of the party.

Not being able to command strength enough to defeat a single measure of the Administration, the whigs in congress seem to hold themselves in readinesato unite with any little faotiori, without any scruple as to iis designs. They have but otu office to perform there, and that is to snarl and snap at everything emanating from the President or hia Cabinet. They prefer to be petted by the New York Herald and kindred sheets, than to receive the approbation of their constituents or party.

They vote for a democratic southernright* printer to help on the war against the Administration, and while they would bolster up a weak faction, tbey but incur the contempt of those who have used them as pliant tool* in their servioe. If they can disoover a slight breach in the democratic party they will use themselves as a wedge to widen it. If they can discern an appearance of discord they rub the ears of the fno* tionisls—if they learn that a few lovers ol spoils arc entertaining burglarious designs on the treasury, tb»y •re ready to join in knocking down the guards and opening the vaults. They are willing to play second fiddlers to any faction, which is hostile to the Administration, and will ask no questions about principles or antecedents all they seem to desire, is to merit well the name ol James Gordon Bennett and receivo the stamp ol approbation of tho Satanic oreis.

So far they have played their role with vnytfi f"iur«is teiore them their designs have been unmasked So their coalescing virtues will not again avail them. Any possible combine* tiop of the enemies of the admistration. in the House, cannot be sufficiency formidable to embarrass the suocess of any government meaaure of general interest. Their strength has been pulled, and the combined opposition amounts to a most insignificant squad.—Chicago Democrat,

The "gradations of a Frenoh newspaper

announced

CLIN TON

Er*«* So* ^'•j

The editor of the Boston Investigator, in a paragraph copied below, gives utterance to some rousing aud wholeaocn® truths, which we hope will *atrike home to the hearts and convince the understanding" of our f®ad-

era: *f "Much depends porn he supporter* of a

newspaper, whether it Is conducted with epirit and interest. If they are negligent io payment the pride and ambition of tee editor it broken down—he works at thankless and unprofitable tasks—hi* paper loses its lith and interest, and dies. Bui the

has escaped from the place of banishment 'is has run away from Elba.' Second— The Corsican dragon (I'ogre) has landed it Cnpe Juan.' Third—'The tiger has shown himself at Gap. The troops are advancing on all sides to arrest his progress.— Ue will oonohxde his miserable adventure by becoming a wanderer among the mountains he cannot possibly escape.. Fourth —•The monster has really escaped as far as Grenoble 5 we know not to what treachery to ascribe it.* Fifth—' I^he tyrant is actually at Lyons. Fear and terror ae«ed all at his appearance.' Sixth—-The usurper has ventured to approach the Capital to wuhin sixty hours march. Seventh—'Bonaparte is advancing by fotced w«"hes hut it is loipossibe he can reach Paris. Eighth— •Nanoleoti will strife under the wall of Par*

8al

Pennsylvania the father of all fHe*

other States?* •Certainly not my

child—why do you

*^ftskf' 11 •Cau» I see that all the newspapers call It Pa. trail

_____

Rarly on a very oold morning, a traveWtag profile «tter ©atted at the house of a wag. Indiwiuir«d if be wanted a profile tak*. "Yt5S,° **s the reply» "I want yours laJien from mv door^m,mO

the event as follows: "frirst an-\ moistened with a tear. They bad dried at nounoeinent—"March, 1815. The monster

Ninth—'lie Gmpoter Na

te to-morrow.' Niwh •oleoa* is at Fontainbleau.' Tenth—** ^evening his Majestf made his public entry, and arrived at the Tuileries—nothing can exceed the untver-

*Pt#-

tm?mm

From the Loafanrille Jcarsal.

AWs with the Bridal Veil. *r aaaw*. •Away, away wtth Uw bridal nfi,

And the eraage garfaad fair, For tho atnoeUi young brow iaeotd and pale That wo designed these to wear. And the slender form ia atiil and lew,

Which wa thragfat wmtld he thia nfgbi Arrayed in those robe* of spotless snow, And decked with those jewels bright-

"We'll wrap her form in the winding sheet, And a rooehnd white shall rest, O her owe pnre life an emblem, sweet)

On ber cold and pnioeieM breastHer sonny locks we will leave as free As they were in bygonc4ay«, When abe toaoed them back in girlish glee

From ber £air and smiling face- ,,

Oh, then, away with tho bridal veil. And the orange garland fair, Per the smooth jroniigbrowls cold and pale

That we destined these to wear. And the crimson Hp and the eye of Uue, No longer of love may speak, ,*• Aud gone is the trembling wild rose bae

That played on ber pearly cheek.

The an get-bands in the world above Have welcomed a sister home, And bright is she in that land of love,

Where the ills of ilfe ne'er come. Away, sway with the flashing gems, And the bridal robes of white, For her brow is girt with diadem,

And her robes are like the light.

But there Is one who will see ber rest

s"^

Io her silent beauty there, With speechless woe in his aehlng breast And a look of mute despair. •Hu will come with a joyful heart to claiu

Ills lovely and youthful bride lie will go s£ain, but not as be came, With a soul of joy and pride-

Ue will go with a weary, weary heari To mourn for the treasure fled, To bear in his breast griefs poisoned dart,

And wish that he too were dead. Ob, joy for the yoaug bride, pare and bright With the angel-legious blest? Jlul woe for him on whose soul the blight

Of a mourner's grief doth rest.

The Young Soldier's Story. "Generally spoaking," began the youth "stories have what is called a moral to them and if you dont know what that means, 1 shall not stop to tell you—" "Yes, yes, we know," ran in low murmura around. "Well, mine has no moral because it cornea too late," and his voice thrilled as he spoke "and if it had, its uses would be very doubtful." •it matters very little who or what I am," he continued. "1 have lain in silk and purple, and grew up as one born to command. 1 went to college, and very likely you think I was a wild, harumscarum devil of a fellow —driving, boating, hunting, "gowning and lowr.ing" it—cultivating wine, cards, and so on, as you may have heard that young fellowa with plenty of money do. Well, if you think so, you are mistaken. I was a quiet, studious young man, I might add moral"—and his sardonic laugh jarred as before "and it would have been perfectly true. 1 loved books, study, and peace, was a good scholar, studied music and the arts, fenced like Angelo—there is not a man in the army, perhaps, that can play at the small-sword with me—and quiet as an infant. 1 still had a fiery devil in me.

I fell in lovej fya ha! with a little doll

and for whom 1 would have taken my heart out of my bosom. She was so frail and fairylike a creature, that I could have put her in my breast to shelter her as one would a little bird and she loved me with such a strength of faith, that had I been Don Juan himself, there WM such lavish trust in her that she would have converted me from a debauchee into a true, honest man. "She is still now as a frozen rill—sleeping like the streams ol winter—she will nev-

waten

are ottrious. When Naj»oieoo escaped from breast though his eyes were burning with Btba, and returned to rranoe, the Moniteur^j,^ p,yn of his strong agony, they were not

very

fountains.

"I dare say more than one among you know what it is to be in love, my lads.— Here is Charley, for instance," and our hero gave a start "be, I imagine, can understand me." "Yea, yes 1" again murmured the soldier ."we know it." "Yes!** he repeated, somewhat scornfully, "all very well that, but different men have different ideas of love. Some are sensual and depraved, and with them love is mere pollution and miscomprehension of the sublime passion and I have met with but few that could understand it as I did, but it was with me a portion of life—of my existence! "Yes, with aw it was different she was a lovely little trusting flower, the daugter of a very worthy, honest tradesman, who loved

her as the apple of his eye! but she

MAolki*

worthy ol a throne, and 1 would have given her one. As it was, I could make her I thought—fool that I was !—honored, great, wealthy. She is poor enough now, and so am 11 *~Our dream of love was delicious, bat very brief. She eloped with me, and as the Lord God liveth, 1 meant her no harm— for I made her ay wife!" he added, with a solemnity that startled the soldiers, who were not often moved by any strength of ex*

pi anion. *«s|d"-|Sj§&& "Yes, she became tnued. "Your wifel peculated one or two of the meat "Thunder and Ughtning.here, Dick, give us your hand, my boy!" and cordial grasp was given. "We thought you uified ,wub the linie chiUL"

of a gin about"my*ige',* thai wareewtUftgn, baby, You Jove us, do_you jiot? God

again I" and his head fell on his

bless your

my wife 1" be coo-

My parents heard thai! bad sloped with fyke child of a uradessaen," uhe »okiiec&eed> fleas of this, went oft, "and threatened the Ipoor old fisUow with rota and aawhUation. fit would not have taken much to have beojfien his heart, far it w*a half gone already hat what was done oould not he undone land 1 thought my father and moihetJoved aw too weU so thwart ana, aad that I had only to bring ber home to give her another father and mother, who would love bar like

TERRE-HAUTE, INDIANA, FRIDAY, JANUARY 13, 18D4

"I meant to have pat her back into his bosom, and said* "embrace your daughter but also! embrace my wife, and you can love her still 1" but that day never came. I believed, however, very firmly in iu and I was happy, living in a little Eden of my own, far from the turmoil of life, and expecting then my litde baby hourly. ••My pareots prevented this," he continued after a convulsive pause, during which he drew his hand over bis brow several times, as though things were crowding into his brain, and confusing him with their multitudinous varioty. "Yes, they hindered all. We lived in Wales at the time, and when my baby was born, and she put it in my bosom, and laid her own sweat little head like a blossoming flower beside it, I— 1 prayed for her. for both and loved ihem more and more. Then I made up my mind to return to my father's bouse. "One day I went to my little home, after walking, or fishing, or something, and 1 found her gone—gone—both gone! O then the sleeping devil within me woke up. I learned from the people of the house, that a stern man, and a proud, pale woman, richly dressed, tlrove up in a splendid char, iot, drawn by four horses, and carried ber off—robbed me of my wife and child. This man—this woman, were my parents. I travelled night and day. and arrived at their

"1 demanded my wife I they called her a designing, cunning girl—and they said something worse of her than I could bear, and I silenced them, and made tb«m turn pale and tremble. I demanded my child.— They knew nothing of either. I cursed them both, and quitted the house never to teturn to it or "I need not te|| how long after, or by what means, I traced my Alice through stages of wretchedness and penury, till I found both mother and child, dying ugon a mean pallet in a parish workhouse. ..ljf "I could have called curses from heaveu and fires from hell to avenge this unmitigable wrong—for what had this pale, tender dove done to win such an atrocious injury? But when I *aw her pale, thin cheeks, and heard her moaning, and saw her wasted babe on the half-starved breast of the woman 1 adored, as devotees adore heaven, I Milled my soul—I shed no tears I heard her utter a cry of joy and pain, and then the thin helpless hand wandered over ray head, as I laid it, kneeling by her side in that horrible bole, upon her broast beside my child.. "Liitte Alice," I said, "little Alice, you and your aweet babe shall live here no Ionger." "No, George, no," she said. Oh her thin lips, how they trembled! "No, George, dear, we shall not live here long—not very long." Give me that brandy^ .^ny lad said the soldier, abruptly. "To lose a parent—to lose a mother one loves—to lose a friend one is devoted to—to lose a dog that has been your compauion for years, is all painful what was it to thisl" continued the soldier. "When 1 heard what she said. I had a terrible foreboding of the future. Was it for this I had sought her? Was it thus my parents had showered their love? Was it to see her jdie that 1 had moved the heaven and earth to discover her? If tears were rain, and not the bitter and acrid shower which scalded my face like a caustic, roses would have sprung to life around her dying pillow, and that golden hair so baddled .«! "Take my head in your arms, my dear Gaorge," she said faintly. "Take my child in your arms too. Kiss me—kiss the

God protect you 1 T5o not

separate us. Do not forget us. I have borne much—but I loved you dearly and I forgive every one as I hope to be lor-

The rough soldiers turned away, and one or two wiped their eyes lurtively. A few stutdy but suspicious "hems" sounded suspiciously, and they averted their faces. "Little Alice," 1 said, "are you going without me? Well I won't wait long.*' "I am only going before you," she said and I felt that she was speaking tbe truth. "I"am going before you olasp me close let me feel your lips lift my head put my baby's mouth to mine"—and thus she died, my lads! And for »n hour after, I held the baby in my bosom, till I felt it oold. It was dead tool" "There wss'fc long, de#p, impressive pause, and again he went on. "They made my heart desolate, wrecked and void and 1—I, in turn, desolated their household and wrecked their peaoe forever. As they had two passions to feed and foster —the most boundless love for me, their on!y child, and a pride which, God forgive them! they had also given to me. snd the latter the greater, they sacrificed me to that pride. Well, I trampled on their pride. They knelt to me in the dust and ashes of humility, and 1 scorned them. They offered me a bride, the fairest io the lend, and I laughed at them. They oould not give me little Alice, and I had nothing else to ask tor. I

had fonerm| fnm lhtt

a ftnil I tWADIil hiva 01 v«n .. a*

work house

for my wife and child, and I put my name oa her coffin lid, and after that day 1 forgot that I had a name or parents, and 1 knew that I had avenged Alice, for their house is a house of mourning, and the world is to them as to me—a sepulchre.' "And this is the reaaon, my boys, that I don't care for anything that comes or goes, that happens or does not happen. waist to be dead. I want to sleep, for my eyes burn so at night, I don't close them I only see liule Alice, my golden-haired wife and I only clasp in my arms my dead baby, till the dram or trumpet wakes me op, and then I have only the bullet that hits me, to look tor. It has not come yet, bat to-mor-row will have better lock! Aad so baad aae the brandy!"

He took a deep, deep draught and a strong hectic bus came into bis white cheeks.— The soldiers were deeply shocked, and their rode emotions made their hearts throb painfully in their broad cheats. ••If none of yoa oaa match that story," eatd the eoMier, "go to sleep, aad don't disturb me I an going to dream of my Afioe and ber child again and be fell bank on bta aide, and a mournful wind swept waffing by aa if it bad bqp the vena of tbe deod.

IKES!

Fanny Fern. -m

(The following inimitable sketch from Fanny's negr book of'Little Ferns.'—r^.,, Little George's Storr-

My Aunt Libby patted me on the head the other day snd said, George, my boy. this is the happiest psrt of your life.* I guess aunt Libby don't know muck, 1 guess she never worked a week to make a kite, and the first time she went to fly it got the tail hitched io a tall tree, whose owner would not let her climb up to disentangle it. I guess she never broke one of tbe runners of her sled some Saturday afternoon, when it was 'prime* coasting. 1 guess she never had to give her biggest marbles to a great lubberly boy, because he would thrash her if she didn't. I guess she never had a*hockey stick' play around ber ancles, bocause she got above a feller in theclass. 1 guess she never had him twitch off her best cap and toss it in a mud puddle. 1 guess she never had to give her humming top to qU «*t the baby and had the paint all sucked off. 1 guess she never saved up all her coppers a whole winter to buy a trumpet, and then was told she must not blow it. because it a a

No—I guess my aunt Libby aon know muoh: all the difference is they darn't complain. Now, I never had a 'bran new'jacket and trowsers in my life—never—nnd 1 dont believe I ever shall for my two brothers have shot up like bean stalk, and left all their out grown clothes 'to be made over for Georgei' and that cross old tailoress keeps me from bat and ball an hour on a stretch while she laps over and nips in. and tucks up, and cuts off their great baggy clothes for me. And when she puts me out the door, she's sure to say, 'Good bye, little Tom Thumb.* Then when 1 go to my uncles to dine, he slways puts the big dictionary in a chair to hoist me up high enough to reach my knife and fork and if there is a dwarf apple or potatoe on the table it is always laid on my plate. If I got to the play-ground to have a game of ball, tho fellows all say—'Get out the way little chap, or we shall knock you into a cocked hat. I don't think l*ve grown a bit these two years. 1 know I havn't by the mark on the wall—(and I stand up to measure every chance I get). When visitors come to the house and ask me my sge, and I tell them that I am nine years old, they say, Tut, tut, little boys shouldn't tell fibs. My brother Hal, has got his first long tailed coat already I am really afraid I never shall have anything but a jacket. I go to bed early, and have left off eating candy and sweetmeats. I havn't put my Angers in the sugar bowl this many a dsy. 1 eat meat like my father, and stretch up my neck till it aches—still I'm «little George,' and nothing shorter or rather, I'm shorter than nothing. Oh! my aunt Libby don't know much. How should she? she never wos a boy!

"Ole Bull's Concert," said Mrs. Partington, glancing up from her knitting, as she read the announcement of the grand concert on Saturday evening, and she smiled as the ridiculous fancy ran through her mind, like a grasshopper in a stubble field, of an old bull giving a conoert. "And yet it isn't so very wonderful," continued she, "for I remember a cat and a canary that lived together. and one or totherof'em used to sing beautifully. But I wonder what he plays on." Ike suggested that he played ou one of his horns, which seemed to be reasona ble. "I am glad he is going to give his concert, because when I went down to hear a great artizan play on a violence, as they called, it, though 1 fo^nd^ouj.^all&^i»*f4s -n was no^nrf--^rt^it2^Tirthey wore going tocliarge a dollar (ill I told'em I was one of the connections of the Post, and they let me in. I can't think what music an old Bull can make, I'm sure. It must be very uproarious, I should think, and better fitted for over-turns than for pastureal music."— She closed her critique with a pinch of stluff, and got on to her wires again like a telegraphic dispatch, and went ahead, while Ike amused himself by scratching his name with a board nail in magnificent Roman capitals upon the newly painted panel of the kitchen door.—Post, f'"'r'

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE ANEEEV—A Yankee and a Frenchman owned a pig in copartnership. When the killing time oame, they wished to divide the carcass. The Yankee was very anxious to divide so that he should get both bind quarters, and persuaded the Frenchman that the proper way to divide it was to cut it across the baoit.— The Frenchman agreed to it on the condition that the Yankee w«uid turn hi* back and lake the choice of the pieoes after it was out in two. The Yanket* turned his bsck, and the Frenchman asked: "Vich piece will you have—se piece wid the tail on him or se piece vat aint got no tail on him "The piece with tbe tail!" shouted the Ysnkee instantly. "Den by gar you take him and I take ze other," ssid the Frenchman. Upon turning around, the Yankee found that the Frenchman bad cut off the tail and stuck it in the pigs mouth. .-

Xatrimoaial SpecalsUiou.

Some year# ago when the world was mad upon lotteries, the 000k of a middle aged gentleman drew from bi» hands the ssviogs of soma years. He, curious to know the cause, learned that she hsd repeatedly dreamed that a Certain number was a great prise aad bought it. He called her a fool for ber pains, aad never omitted an occasion to toase ber on the subject. One day. bar master saw in a newspaper that tbe number was actually a priaa of £20,090, Cook is called up—a palaver ensues—had known ber many years—loth to part, dsc.. in short be proposed marriage and is accepted. Tbey ware married the next morning,

A the carriage took theso from the church, the following dialogue aoaoed: •Well Molly, two happy event* ia one day. Ton have married, 1 trust, a good husband yon have something else. Bat first let me ask you where is jronr lottery ticketf*' 4r

MoBy, who thought be wa* beginning to banter on tho old subject replied— 'Don't you say any more about that. I thought bow would be, I shoo id never bear tbe end on it, so I add to a baker for a guinea profit: so yon need'at make any mors fosa aboot xUte, r-..

"it Vs aifficult perfectly to comprehend, so far as we can gsther from the last meagre accounts the real position of Russian aad Turkish affairs, so fer as the details are in question. For these, of course we have to depend on the reports of various parties some of whom are interested in distorting the real condition of affairs, on account of political considerations others, because of financial speculations. In other word#, the continental government's ol Europe which feel that all sorts of agitation is deteriinental to them and to tho stable order of things, which is necessary to their peace and comfort, have a direct and keen interest, in giving such a version of events as may conduce tp their safety while another class the money politician, who care for nothing, except as stocks and national debts may be alfaoted—the great Gamblers in Politics—are interested in giving a different one. And then comes the cruder impulses of enthusiasts, who imagine that everything depends on the form ol government, without any regard whatever to the qualities and condition of the people who may be subject to it.

Overlooking all the mist in which these affairs are clouded, one thing strikes us as very remarkable nnd note-worthy in the declarations which have been made by the Sultan and the Autocrat. And this one thing proves conclusively thai those sovereigns are quite ns well versed in the deeper intricacies of Diplomacy,—whether in warlike or peaceable aspects,—as are the European Cabinets, who endeavor to make the world believe in their superiority.

This one thing to which we aljude is that Religious aspect which both the Russian and the Turk attempt to give their warlike demonstrations. Nothing oould be more masterly than (he attitude of bolh the great parties. either as regards themselves or the rest of Europe. And the people of this oounlry should not under rate the lesson thus presented.

Nicholas in the first placi:^1fcn5'',^^,1,,l Him self the Defender of the Greek Churoh,|and declares t^at its rights and privileges shall be obeyed in Turkey.The Turk checkmates him by declaring that not only shall the rights of the Greek church be protected in the Turkish dominions, but absolutely confers additional rights and privileges upon all Protestant seots, putting them on a footing of legal equality with the Mohamedans themselves. Handsomoly done! Nicholas is terribly enraged, and he uow threatens that, if Austria or any other power gives direct or indirect 'material aid' to Turkey he will declare a war of Religious extermination. The ohjeot ol this threat seems to us to be to terrorize the sects of the Continent with the idea of a modern crusade, and thus affect the policy of cabinets. Whether this will be attained is somewhat problematical—Chapmans Chanticleer.

How TO MAKE MONEY FAST AND HONESTLY.—Enter into a business of which you have a perfect knowledge. In your own right, or by the aid of Irieuds and long time, have a oash oapipil sufficient to do, at least, a cash business. Never venture on credit business on commencement. Buy all your goods or materials for cash you can take every advantage ol the market and pick an choose where you will Be careful not to overstock yourself Rise and fall with the market, on short stocks. Always slick to those whom you prove to be strictly just in their transactions, and shun all others, even at a temporary disadvantage. Never take advantage of a customer's ignorance, nor equivocate, or misrepresent. Have but one |nii 1 11 11 11 iiwiilt !"»rafifi fla-ii

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all the most profitable customers—the cash oges—or they will find you. 1 fever deceived in business transactions, never attempt to save yourself by putting the deception upon others but submit to the loss, and be more cautious in future. Ac cording to the character or extent of your business, set aside a liberal per centage for printing and advertising, and do not hesitate. Never let an article, parsel, or package go out from you without a handsomely printed wraper, card, or circular, and dispense them continually. 'ChoOse the newspaper for your purpose,' and keep yourself unceafciogly before the publio 1 sod it matters not what business of utility ^yoq make choice of, if intelligently and industriously pursued, a fortune will be the result.—Hunt's Merchant's Magatine

DCETO Wivss.—Do not jest with

your wife upon a subject on which there is daoger of wounding ber feelings. limn ember she treasures every word you utter.— Do not speak of virtue in another man'a wife, to remind your own of a fault. Do not reproach her with personal defects for if she has sensibility, you inflict a wound difficult to heal. Do not treat her with inattention in company it touohea her pride, and she will not respect you more or love you better for it. Do not upbraid your wile in the presence of a third party the sense of your disregard for her feelings will pre* vent her from acknowledging her faults.— Do not entertain your wife by praising the beauty and accomplishments of other wo men. If you would have a pleasaot home and cheeHul wife, pass your evenings under your own roof. Do not be stern and aileut in your house, and remarkable for society elsewhere.

We think there can't be much more unotion thrown into a courtship than that contained in tbe tender scene enacted by a couple of country 00a sins lately—thus "Sal, would you beaorry ef I was dead!" "La! Jobo, what do you ask me for?"— "'Cause Sal I was just a thinkiri' aboot win-din'-sheeis nn' what nica weather it would bo to "wind** fom in one J" La! and would yon marry me first?" **ln course." **0, weH! s'poee yoa may send for the 'Squire/' •_

THE COST oriTtlnM or Oto TIMES.— In |6fi0 a trial took plaee in Coaneetieat aoder the section of tbe Blue Laws prohibiting kissing. The offenders were Ssrab Tattle and Jacob Newltca. It appears thai Sarah dropped her gloves and Jacob found tbem. When Sarah asked for them, Jaoob demanded a kiss for his pay and aa tbe demand did net seem to Sarah extravagant, abo adjaOad it forthwith. The facts were ekariy frond, aad the parties were each fiqed twenty shtliings*

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t. Removing the water from the pores, admits the air which is essential, jo,.the growth ot the roots. 2. The roots extend farther and deeper into the soil, get a firmer hold upon it, and draw nourishment from a larger area.} 3. The air decomposes vegetable matter, and thus furnishes organic matter for the growing plant. 4. Tbe air and other gases decompose the' earthly portog^t^ organic Jood^ .4 5. I he free cironlauon of air in '.he soil, carries in ammonia, and other fertilizing substances to the roots of plants. bThe presence of water causes soils, to bake, so as to render them hard to work, and also Io prevent the free growth and expansion of the roots. 7- When excess of water is removed, compact and clay soils become light and pulverized by working them. 8. The free

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ous compounds ol ir-n, mnnganete, v-Vc inert, and clover and other deep rooted crops will not be kiiled but Sourish from year to year. 9. The depth to which the roots penetrate in soils, fread from poisons and filled witli air, secure to the plants sufficient moisture to withstand the surface effects ofdrouth. 10 In hot weather the circulation of warm moist air, through the open mouth drains and Uie soil, condenses moisture in the cooler soil, and furnishes additional security against drouth. 11. The air circulating in the soil decomposes vegetable aoidi and removes 'sour» ness.' 12. The removal of tho standing water allows warmth, which cannot descend thro' a body of water, to penetrate farther into the soil. 13 By causing the water to descend into drains, instead of evaporating from the surface, another chief source of the coldness is removed. 14. Rains in descending through the ground carry the heat of the atmosphere with them, and tAus warm the aoil and roots of plants.

15. Draining by rapidly romovlng the water in the spring, and 'after heavy rains, and by warming the soil is equivalent to lengthening the season., and gives a wider range of a few cultivated plants, a longer time for plowing, and working the ground. 16 Lands freed from exoees of moisture, expands muon less less in feezing, and the roots of wheat, clover, and other crops remaining in the ground over winter, are not destroyed by winter kill. 18. Water by sinking through (he-soil into drains, is prevented from carrying away into streams the soluble portions of soils and manures.

These reasons we believe are sufficient to induce farmers to inquire into theoondition of their soils and to try the experiment of draining upon at least a sninll portion of their wettest lands. The experiment not be on a large soale. A single aore well drained will sulliue to show whether this means of improvement may be prufitubly engaged. —Ohio Farmer.

Boo DaMtM.mo.~~.Make a batter of a pint of milk, two well beaten eggs, 0 salt, and flour enough tomtke a hatter as thick lor pound cake littve a clean MAiicepitn of boiling water, let the water boil Inst, drop in the batter by the tablespoonl'ul four or five minutes will boil them take them on a dish with a skimmer, put a bit of buttur and pepper over, and serve witli boiled or cold meal: for a little des&ert put butler and grated nutmeg, with syrup or sugur over.

BONES.—Have these carefully saved Keep sn old barrel beside your ash house, and whenever you find a bone, throw it in. It is Wonderful how they accumulate. If you want to dissolve them, make a pile of bones and fresh ashes wet moderately, and leave it for a month or so. In every two hundred lbs. of bones there Is enough animal matter, phosphat eof lime, and salts Io grow an acre of wheal and, we know not how many barrels of apples. When you plant a fruit tree, give it bones at the root.

An Irishmen who had just landed, said the first bit ol meat he ever ate in this country was a roasted potato—boiled yesterday.--And if you don't believe me, I can show it to you, for I have it in my pockel.

'Good morning, Mr. Brig 'Briggs, air, if you please: my name ia Brigga.'life A**

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•I calf you Brig, for l«oonsider you «in-# gular.' '1 sm plural, sir I added one tciimyself yesterdsy.'-^ 'Ah! 1 see. Carried In the plural now more singular ntiii.'

A negro who ws* called.on as a witnes* in one of the courts of North Carolina on being examined a* to the nature of an oath, was asked if he knew what would be tbe consequence here sod hereafter if he swora to a lie. 'Yes,* said he, *ears off aud no share'in the kingdom.' im

Isaiah Pigg* of Illinois, has ran away from Mrs. Pigg and four little Piggs, Cornelius T. If., aaya he is a Ilogg.

I*TOETANT

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TO Drsrwrrtcs.—A tough

beefsteak and half fried onions at supper, make excellent fodder for the night-mare.

A fellow aimclooe* for uglinees chanced 10 pick Of a looking-glass on his road. But when he looked at himself he flung'il away iaa rage, crying, 'If you were good for any thing you would not haye been thrown away by yoor owoer/

A follow without legs has been accused of makiof a *stump*speeeb.'