Poughkeepsie Journal from Poughkeepsie, New York • Page 1

1 if ffmin B7 PLATT SCHRAM. Hew Seriet, of the Journal, ertaMiihed in 1785 Eagle establiihei is 1828. VOLUME 12. ITos. 310 and 31 Main streflt.

POUGHKEEPSIE, SATURDAY MORNINGS, APRIL 14, 1855. NUMBER 589. inas tEMiiLit PUBLISHED EVERT BATPSPAr MORWIMC BY PLATT BCHEAH, AAC rtATT. WM.8CHBAM 1 niwimllw.lHiiilU'l''"" TERMS TWO DOLLAR FEB ANNUM. pa per will I kaeebi al srrear.feer.pia.zeep "tBjMO? AOVERTlBmO ff DHimhi.

ai: CSTP UN wis ma ni wsenen 5 ITIKO of allaeegiptioneatlowrelee. P'gg" ff" CALE BEAMS CbMWggggaf' (miil.tr 4 A LLEH St STORM. OK THE BAB. watrwl at tie UUk. 4V mar J.

R. LENT. GRAM MEASURES, 8COOP8.r. 11 I reronlonr TROWBRIUGJIL Wll INbON. BKKHf OISGBB Al.tt SS7 Mini Uf AM at UO Pratsnaa.

PATENT BTKKLDOOB KPBINOB. J. Koe.18.laU. BTURMfcUUL. AId.J.

8IDE8ADDLR IjtotUI BBVAVM KADPIPB AlIei Bj atar.avUee. 41 ALLEN A BTORM. 8HIBXD8 ROUSE, SIGN ud OKNAMFJ TALPAINTEB. SSI MllHl WBIX. CI8TKBM.

AKD W'IS tor br 48 ALLEN fc PTUBM. SAFETY FU8B. For.el.ettn. Ilarower. Rtoraoi WM.

H.TALLMADCE.WWMalaJl. SA1J8AUK fc 8TogM ABD.IARD. TwmViniTeerin.iijnei IVfffotloJolir W.V.lJ.BEVH0LD3.Jt. RATTLE rH AIM, SIUK8. Plia.

Gilt. Block. Oraamentat Door Plata. iSLfcSS'br W.W.fc).REVWOLDS,Jr. WOOLEN VARS8.

AB colon awl onaliuet, jnat OHIO FLOUB A emnll ptreal Henna' Boer Oaie. an extra article la food order, for aala br roa'StlSsTia W. VV.it REYMOLPS. Jr. Kft KEGS BLA8TIJIO 'OWpjft a4 for aala br JOHN MCLEAN, Wapt.a8.ia4.

Mo. S4I Maln el. PAnrrS.OILB. WinOW GLA88.u Drr and mueeP AIWTg.MU.tlT..b BBEIJ)3. Oot.

IBATHEBB. 100O poonda prima new LlreGeeM .1 El.rla oTlSsT'lO fkoWtiRIDCEfcWILKIWBON. rrORSE BLAHKBT8. A Urja lot jnat noarod add rS.wKU'TROWBRnGRltVVILKlSBON. CHl'RSS.

OoblBdalarf.lolol ttsdilTin ejtalx.e.ror aala at ara Main street. E.BEALM MarcHS GBHaDSTOSKS. Abo, Sbafta. Cranka. and Rollan f'" COSTKR'S SPANISH MIXTtJBB Forandl ni.

Muifroaa.rp.r.Kr.BId GOOD PALB AKD DABK. BBAKDV. Old Port and Madana Wibo, London Porter, qta. and pta.lor aal.br KihN McLEAN.MIMaiatnt. IOB 8 ALB CHEAP.

A On. Horn ennjr. lor ojMr twoaMta. Enqniraof KOUBB'fe WAGOXandBDLKET BPWaGB.l oMalabr B''M 'FLOOR OIL CLOTH8. FL0pR OIL CLOTHS Urfl CMP rr.v ITfiQUIfMiiMB.

ILli8PWd.StrijMdrtcbiiematt nT' Oct. lfc, 1864. oVANKU I. a. tu LACK 8ILK8, BLACK 8ILB.8.

A (aodaaorU nwniairrwFrl ITB GBE8K FKATHBBS, rf ui.br 'Ji0EGBM m.n unVBI 17 Alt A ar1 a J.ii atpu an li bUftttfi A mjBBtVJMtmw Yi upow unMMISgr larobat.lBM. aU Main WASH TUB8. PIM and Odar WaibTaba. ad Mapla Ballar do, foraaU lalnrttZM E. BEACH.

ainu irn.I DL. I.L lu.al Sard. For aala br CB.WARRIMG. APEB HAiralXGB.Berdennl. Fir.

Board pnnta. papwwioaow.naaa iii JT" Shoo w.H.TALLMAbGE.S60Mainjt. BIKD APPLK8 3S bnr of mw vtitm Jnd Ap I pi If fd frjo rjd and fjr br ADIES ASD JBWTLKMBB'8 andr TaM. and MJ drawa.raiUtandBMrlnoHafDllaMonnirnt,forwl. A ROE ASSORTUKST Marinoi, Caabrnrm and Mo.H.liii.il.lAin..lDatrvl andtOTMlabr, tiKillTiJi: ce6rge van klellk Co.

WAKTED HOOO.or Irn, Tram nowl.thf dntofMar Ml, It wbicb ample eeoomr will be rjran. E.qV;.l JOHNril.l.ENT. attb.lUd.MiUa. SHAWW. Brocha.CaabBinndVVploM and Knar.

Bhawla, ala roodayunnew atrha) loranle brtAMKLEECK U. CB8TAK8 GBlkVIHV BAT KXTKaMlKATOB Can b. bad at Joba McLean'a ftojr and Prarnion Bur.N.IHIMin aU JOHN McLKAN. fZ. CASKS KKGLI8U POBTKR.pu.

U. 9W do Bcotcb Ala. Of approve brmniU.lormMloui. BOCKKEfclNNia. ARDWARB! ABD WABBH A G.ral An.

unaeontof Bh.lf Hardware oan b. had at the r. TBOWBR1UCE at WILKIN BON. 1SBKfH BUTTEB. Afew lwr.laof.

ood RollBnf Poatbbeepii. F.brnarr Idtb. 186b. W. UEATV CUTH8.

Joit recairH Jaw plow, ol Barer UtA for GB Ororooata. A no a rood an ndSunetu.foraaU UCtr. m. VAT r.l.r.rA.rk..f maw n. MITTESS AD GLOVES Jfann.

GBOBGB VAJI BLEBCB ck bar. rnnd VVoolo Blank.ta.il) 4 UomeelW FUanaL. Tab I. and Plane ooren. Welcb Flanneli, abo a ml rarwtr of plain and ttnrad aaek Bannela.

PUMPS Wo ar. aow prepared to forni.b V. HAIlf PUIHPB tMw vnpUM larniM ruAlN FlfMPSiuda in Urn bt intniicr witboit oSlkr. 0TORM ft UHL Fok pw.BU 15. ISM.

8ra nvrSI UORKKD OOLL.AnB. Jiut nwiv4 unrtBUBtar Iai1im Warifid Collui. nrr hud BXEECK fc CO. lAPBBHAJIGISGg. Ja receired nlane aeaort ntim.irrn"i." from tnoniannfaotann and roraal.

at the lowort caak pn. irw J. w. MILLER fc C0 1 Ma.a. LOTRS, CASSIHEBES, 8 ATISETTS, FLAK NKLH.and areneral aawrunent of Fell Goadafor TnlVtoMTROWBIDGE fc'vVlLKJWBOtf.

AMPOIU SOCK) laDeiubleh'd winter wkale ell. ml ltuO ralloo. winter iperai oil. bgorall.n. Lard Oil.

For aala at New Bedtotil market VrBI.BnaQ SJt in I .0 VVLACK AMD fOLOBBD SILK 8. Jnat naeireda larfauaortmmtol blithe itnTerrnl wtdtha and pram rSwnerlbanoTer. J0UH W. MILLER et CO. Mo.MMal BI rra PABMBBS.

AUpenone indebted for Platter at lb. Rod MUla, prarrena tolKH. are reqneeud tooalt andarnlatboouM lannediaulf. and bran doiaiure ex. pew.

3 MZ. I. Bleed fc Ce'e. beet Can Steel Alee. JJ D.BanojoaafcCo'a.

rSurCrfl'wM'. H. TALLMADGE J60 MalnL filh iBIKNKVB PIIX.J. Pilk. Ileoper'a FfDa.

jaens. in.eiii.ie irminejM.rNnw. 7 VfeB.C0Fnjlfc CO. WrlUrWEDV'B MEDICAL DISCOTKBV. A rrr.

A. aeeeaiiWefweiKArewieaeAnrraIa.fco. nFor eel. br tfra AM fc CO, Orniieu, (0 861 Maineueet. WAX MIGHT LIGHT.

taoetoenTeniatitand deri. table aruele.FeBer wooad Taper forbcbttaK caa baneia.BanUFaeerVValCendle. PerealebT BOatiEfclSBI8.Dr.ii.flUiiiu XOBET Tbeetereeetbe Kenbeet corner eT Main and lree.apiadblbta.bioiler. ja rwaaHsaa lor we vroeerr obmi Ennnlreof ABM.6M1TH. CTATBH ISLAND OT1SG BSTABUSBMBXT.

K7 be Pro ana prarapllr I 4V bteta. AOaeeealea wah eelo JOHN W. MILLER fc CO. Btmin in i8m.iipiT.isi sisia iiifsbnini rrn it Bmgwtm mU ohp U. JM JHUBIMS) PHJ fMJT wbeal.adtetauat MTEBa.nMaln.

Prance, Cranberriea, se. nraait and feranl. 4.000 r.u blood oorrs tmt ckn trasiAxn ABUS CfJTraiMkliiiHJK.ITETV Li. new taotaa a4 aanllnili aeeay na mnean awn ntaaiu. W.e.leH.

3 0 WteaB AUG I WO AKD aMBDEJXaV CEO. renaieae naw Pnpplr retina reper riailoai Iwaaleobeaaw UlllMI. Prom the Mais Farmer. Hanwei for Indian Corn. Tint com crop in, Ihrocgboot lb.

greater part of Uaioe, one of great importance, ana, as a general thins, tnat ai rare ai any we cnltirate. Ererj one tnowi, who ttai baa eren bat a few jean' experience in ill rultirmtion, that it require. pd toil and good culture. VTe hare alwaji inc caeded bent in it cnltnre by ipreading ooane or long manure upon award land, taming it under during the rprmg, and then manuring ia the hill with fine, well rotted campott mannre. In our latitude, where the epring Maaon ia abort, and oftentimes the fint of acmmer ia cool, it ia a great help to Uiia crop to help it along by the atimnlua of warm mannre.

It abonld nut, bowerer, be left inantaleofaUuratioo when it begins to fill ont and ripen iU seed. Let it bares good anpplj of the requisite material to work op into good nolid com for the barreat. The editor of the American Farmer for March, in an instrnctire eetaj upon the culture and prop ertiea of Indian com, baa girea a aerial of receipta or Ibrninlae, for making eotnpoata for manuring thin crop. TVe take the liberty of copying some oftliem. Tbay may not be attainable by all our reader, but petbap some of them may be able, and will like to try one aort, and others another sort.

At any rate, it will do them no harm to read them, and make op their own judgment in regard to their value. The quantities given are for an acre: Ho. 1. 400 lbs. Peruvian Guano, basalt, 1 bu.

plaster. Let the whole be thoroughly mixed together, then broadcast the whole equally over the ground, ana piongo it in as speedily alter it nas been broadcasted as possible. No, 2. SOO lbs. Peruvian bu.

plaster, and 8 load bam yard or stable mannre. 10 mixed, broadcasted, and ploughed in, as above. No. S. SOO lbs.

Peruvian Guano, 1 bu, plaster, 10 two hone cart loads of bam yard or stable manure, and 2 bu. salt. To be mixed, broadcasted, and ploughed in, as in No. 1. No.

4. 20 loads of bam yard or stable manure, 1 bu. of plaster, 100 of Guano, and 2 bu. of salt. To be mixed, broadcasted, and ploughed in, as in No.

I. No. 6. 14 two horse cart loads of murk or river mud, 7 do. of barn yard or stable manuic, 1 bu.

plaster, 200 lbs. of Ameican phosphate of lirue. To be mixed, suffered to lie in compost two weeks, then broadcasted brer field equally ploughed in. No. 6 Mix together 4 bu.

of bone dust, 1 0 bu. of slaked ashes, 2 bu. of salt, 100 lbs. nitrate of Cih (saltpetre) or nitrate of soda. Let the dust be moistened before being formed into compost with the other ingredients.

Let the mass remain in pile 10 or 16 days then broadcast it over the field, and barrow the whole ia No. 7. Form into compost, layer and layer, about 20 two horse loads stable or bam yard ma nnre, 200 lbs. American phosphate of lime, 1 ho. of plaster.

No. 8. Dissolve 10 bu. of bone dust with Jilu ted sulphuric acid, then mix with 10 baof leached ashes, 1 ba of planter, and 2 bu. of salt to be harrowed ia No.

9. Form a compost, layer and layer, of about 400 fishes, he docs not say bow large or what kind, 20 loads of muck or river mud, woods mold, or mold of any kind, and I ba of plaster, throw them into a pile, let them remain three weeks, then mix the whole intimately together, broadcast it over the field, plough in as spread, roll, harrow, it No. 10. SO twoborse cart loads of fretb sea weed mixed with 100 lbs. Peruvian Guano, and 1 bu.

of plaster to be ploughed ia No. 11. Mix 200 lbs. of chandlers' graves, 10 bu. of slaked ashes, 100 American phosphate of lime, and 1 bu.

of plaster together, spread and plough ia No. 12. Mix together 10 two horse cart loads of pine shatters or woods mould, or the same quantity of marsh or river mud, 4 baof bone dust, 10 ba of leached ashen, and 1 ba plaster. Throw the whole into a pile, and let it remain two weeks, then thoroughly mix the whole together, spread and plough in. Herejou have a dozen receipts for broadcast dressing, provided, nevertheless, you can obtain the materials, Now for a few fnr manure in the hill.

No. 1. Two horse loads of woodimould, marjh or river mud, or mold from bead lands, 1 load of stable or bam yard mannre, 6 ba of ashes, 1 bo of salt, and 1 bu. of plaster, to be well mixed together, thrown into bulk, let it remain a week, then work over again, when it will be fit for use. A quart of this mixture to be applied in each ML No.

2. Mix together, layer and layer, about 8 loads of woods mold, marsh mud, ditch scrapings, or any rich mold, SO lbs. of guano, 1 bu. of salt, and 1 ba of plaster, let the whole be thoroughly mixed together, and 1 pint in each hill. No.

8. Thoroughly mix 1 or 2 horse loads of rich mold, 25 lbs. of guano, ba of slaked ashes, 1 bu. of salt, and 1 bu.of plaster, and give about 1 gill to each bill. No.

4 10 baof bran, 100 lbs. of American phosphate of lime, 1 or2borseloadsof rich mould, 25 lbs of guano, 1 ba of salt, and I ba. of plaster, to be thoroughly mixed together, give one pint to each hill. ta From tb. GermnntowB Telegraph Against the Die of Cob Meal As I aee there is considerable said in favor of the nse of corn cobs ground with com for feeding cattle, I should like to know how the benefit is derived from it.

Now, to apply the test, suppose we tske com enough in the ear lo make ten bushels shelled, and shell it and grind the corn separate from the cob, and then grind the cob. And first feed the Indean meal to a cow in full profit, regularly tmtil it is ill fed, then feed the same cow the meal made of the cobs, in the same quantity until all ia fed, fif nbe will eat it,) and I am inclined to think she will diminish in the quantity of milk and butter very perceptibly. I think cow cannot digest Ibose small points running to the centre of the cob from every grain, and is too hard to grind and scarcely ever gets done. One of my neighbors had 3 cow in thrifty condition that bad been fed on corn and cob meal for some time, which suddenly died, and on the msw being opened, there was found sticking fast inside of it till completely lined, those parts of the cob that run (o sharp points centrally from the graia Some varieties of com cobs are worse than others, as those points aro sharper and much harder. While cobs are in green state, there is some sap in tlwm, which makes cattle relish them but after the grain takes up this moisture, I think all of the nutriment of the cob is gone to the grain and leaves it useless lor food and therefore I have concluded that (here is more economy in using cubs for fuel than food.

I have tried both. B.0. Degeneracy of the Potato. tVilb respect to the potato, nature seems clear ly to bare mad provision for the permanent health as well as the productiveness of herownonepring, in the need contained in the berry which the plant produces from its stalk; and ccoseqnently; by our endeavoring to perpetual, any particular sort of potato, by continually cutting and planting its tubers, it is reasonable fobs expected that we hill irnor it sreneral Dronertie and powers, and thus gradually render it unfit for food, and more uaole to ouease. it wouia wiiow urn, uruei t.

be as certain of obtaining a good crop of potatoes a It I poeeible to be, the ground, before being planted, should be thoroughly pulverized the manure abonld ba well fermented the sets should be whole potatoes, and never deprived of its first boot, dot allowed to ferment; and laelly that a constant tuccession of new sorts should be raised from thB berries of the old ones. The newly raised sort will doubtless admit of being cut with asfely for several years, and would be but little effected by other external injuries, unless peculiarly delicate, as they would possess aU the health and rigor of a plant propagated according to nature's laws. By attending to these few suggestions, which experience warrants, a full crop of potato suay, under ordinary circumstances, be secured. Amrr ican UfftieulUtritL lime on Cferav Mr. K.

F. Bingham, of Ohio, amicates totbeiSo Mmi Oaffiraror.th lob lowing experiment be made with lime iiprjo young com. ItMt8rstt1mwerr.ledofa.r. lit application, and bugfas tbati um increased crop, In cocWmdc, did oat wre Am com the expene. jk 1 Hi bsjs I bars just concluded experiment with lima on a field ottm.

which mar worthy of notice. Astbtcorow coming ap, IjOTtJed anoruoau a pint oi aiacKed lima to eadk mil, ius exception bat rows Dear the middle of the field, which were left that 1 might se Whether liming in ItehUlw an WeaooUl to the crop. Toe after treaient ra tbsisam during tbe season. 'Earr aled separately the tour row on. limed, (soil and situatioo being precisely lb same) and the result was an Increase of at HtiU ctn eight in the aniowl in favor of that which Waa Timed." 5Aa iW'frost is leaving lb ground, canker worms Will soon begin to ajceod the trees, unlew tsus msR.

Don't Eon in Vtlt Don't ran In debt, nsrer inind, nerr mind, Iftbyck)warjftdlaDd torus ado: it is boiler bj tV, 7du to tun lb. heart wctrj and worn. WboH lor yon Uw more for lha of your bat. Or your no. or tb lie of your boo, Tba ttr.

ofyonr reit, or your booU or crmrat. If they know yonV la debt for the new Tberei comftwl, tell yoa. In wmlklm the etreet Id floe ckptbee, If you know you're la debt. And feel tint perchsace yon some UtWetinan may meet. Who will neernheyTC not paid Sot yet," Good frlenda, let me beg of yoa, don't ran In debt If Uw chain and the of are old, Tbey will fit your back better than any new aet, lTnen these are paid for with gold.

If the booie too small, draw It closer together, Keep tt warm with a hearty good wUl A big one unpaid for. In all IUnda of weather Will eend to your warm heart a chllL Pon't ran In debt now dear glrta late a hint If the faahlona bare changed since tut season. Old nature hi ont In the Tery ame tint, And old iTalora. we think, bi aoma reason. Jnat say to your friends that yon cannct afford To spend time to keep up with the ftshlon That yonr pone Is too light and your honor too good To be tarnished with each Billy passion.

Gents, don't run In debt let yonr friends. If they can, Hare fine honsea, One feathers and fiowera. Bat, aniens they are paid for, be more of roan Than to enry their aonshiny hour. If you're money to spare, I bare nothing to say Spend yonr dollars and dimes yoa please But mind yon, the man who his note has to pay. Is the man who Is nerer at ease.

Kind husbands, dont run In debt any more i Twill AU your wife's cup fall of sorrow, To koow that a neigfabor may call at your door, ith bill yen must settle to morrow. Oh, take my advice It Is good, it Is true. But lest yon may some or yon doubt It, I'll whisper a secret, now seeing lis you, I hare tried it, and know all about it. The ebain of a debtor Is heary and cold, Its links all corrosion and rust Gild it o'er as yoa will, tt Is nerer ofgold. Then sparn it aside with dkgust.

The man who's In debt Is too often a slare. Though his heart maj be honest and troe, tn be bold up his head, and look saucy and brare, When a note he can't pay becomes due A Picture Not Uncommon. rpm the orchard, Down in the lan Banted all OTer, Hunted in Tain, For the asses which wandered The oxen, I mean (Was thinking of Saul And the men of Beth sbsan 0 Wish they'd "got mired," Or that they had broke Their necks when they twitted Them out of the yoke. Ther always lored clorer Far more than their yok. First time they broke orer Bhould'TO pat on their pokes.

All comes of improving The lessons we'd taught them. Late to think or It now. In Tain having sought them. II tipples and fetters For the unruly "critters' They win not stay put But Saul be found one thing. And we hare found something Beetles, wedges and glut, Just where they left them When they snatched up their guns And put after the quails.

Uogs In the garden, Cows In the corn Bam ble bees building Their nest In the barn Bang the "low fences," Teaching cattle to amp 1 Gates off their hinges Leskj old pump 1 Candles too slender To see by the bats That come through the window For tack of more hats. TaleiV few In bill. And dwarfish at that. And half of them wasted 'Tween the "glrj" and the rat Owing to planting Wrong time of the moon," Too late with them last year. This year too soon.

Children In tature, Dont know how lo spell Wire In tears always, There's nothing goes well. Cwine with tbetr yokes on Kin with their pokes on Quite a sight d'ye see? Bawbooed and long necked Bat what could you expect From Buch fanners as we Or what would yoa give, The secret to know Tie writ on the face Oftht rum cask btiotg. PlTt. A Meditation. Lines written on the aksidenlal disco? very of a fire sent piece In the conjuror an old pocket In a rest that 1 worn out about a year ago.

Hallo 1 old Vesle I now dlskoror You're good furr rags and 3 senla orer I Ef I maid this dlskororay BeToar I did flung away 17 woodn't a bin bare to day. bbkaure old Vesle In likelihood with desperalt Intent I Sbood A guan rite to a wblskey shop at fetched that senla out si lop AU for to buy a nuttier pop. lc that air pop of old rye skoots mite a put analks Into my boots fc. then who nose bow I wood rare Who nose what powur on erlh rood talre me from a sulclder'a gralre. Ime glad I laid by old Teste, that lost sents has gir me rest.

Sense then no time nor toll Is walsted, nor any sort of liker lasted. Nor my wife Sally halnt got Balsted. Sal ex her heart Is lite it free Cause now lor and letter At nerer chuck ber donn the sellttr, nor pitched the tee pot at her smeller, Phe sell line bur good lemprance feller. Old Vesle I thank you. Sal no mnar Shall need a carpet furr her flow.

He keep pertaters lo the bin Jt In my close a lot of Un It nnrur, nerur drink agin I cose my ritln tlsent floral lie closo bat first attend my moral 5 lent peeces dont grow In rows Befbar your last fer whiskey gowa Jjoose it in sum of your old close. TEii fflI; A Fanner'i Pudding. lbs. yellow com mesl 1 lb. beef suet, 1 12 pints molasses, lib.

dried currants or whortleberries. Boil the pudding four hours. Tea at Balf Price. Laysel, a French Chemist asserts that if lea is ground like coffee, before hot water is poured upon it, it will jiold nearly doable the amount of its exhilarating qualities. Omelette.

To tight eggs take a half a pint of milk and a small table spoon full of flour, stir the flour in the milk and break the eggs, and silt or pepper to taste. Stir gently while cooking to prevent scorching. This is a cheap and excellent dish. tTomni's Advocate. i be in proper means an speedily takes' to prevent It gooa preveuuT.

Boiled Indian Pudding. Take one tea cup of molasses, a piece of suet the eixe of two eggs chopped fine, 8 spoonful of meal, scald lbs meal with boiling water or milk, mix it quite thin; wben nearly cold add four egi, well beaten. Boil three hours in strong cSoth. WomaiC Advocate. A center Cooking By Qai.

complimentary dinner was given at Worry esUrdsy, ell the viands being cooked br upon an improved method, invented by J. f. Blnse, lsq tne agent 01 tne ga company in that city. Quite a number of scientific gentlemen and others had assembled to judge of its merits, and upon all sides we beard commendstion expressed. The arrangements for cooking were the most complete that we ever saw, and at the simple in their construction and eScarjous in the results.

The oven, in particular, attracted oar attention, its pecnlaririr. consiaticg in the application of the gss outside, the ample supply of oxygen for cumbostioo, and tb arrangement made forth exit of its products. No beat can possibly escape tb article cooking receiving all applied. The advantages claimed by this patent are rspidily, neatness, convenience, economy and improvement in quality of food. There were CO pistes laid, the cost of cooking for which (and the bill pf far.

a quit excellent) amoted to only 1,40, 400 feet of gas being consumed at a rat of mills per foot. Tberjriceof ga in this city i2i mills. present below the specified costs which would be incurred by those using this apparatus One' gallon water at B2 Fahrenheit, boiled fnu 20 sec, consuming 65 100 cubic feet of ijraart potatoes, boiled in 40 tnin. 25 consumed 25100 cubic feet of gas, cost So nta: 31b. bread, baked ia 87 minute con sned 25 100 cubic fret of gas, cost Sc.3 mills 4 pteB, oaaeu in sa tuioair as vv iw bicfet of sas 8 Bulla; 4 lb.

beef, baked is one boar, consumed IS 20.100 cubic feet ofgsA Cost 4c, 2 am; buckwheat cakes minote. consumed 6 20 100 cubic feet of gas, cost 2c main: I lb. beef broiled in 4 minute, consumed 2 75 100 cubic feet of gas, cost 9 1 3 mills; lbs. beef steak broiled in 10 minutes, cooeomed SS8 10O cubic feet of gas, cost le. BJTJa xTosfon Pott.

TO3 MLB If From the Democratic Review. The Double Mistake Translated from the French BT HOK. J. HAERIS, OS 11T83. Balthazar Polo was a true saint, who bad assisted at the funeral of Louis XIV, a kind hearted and charitable man, and a pious Christian.

An affair of lore had led him, in the midst of many perils, to New Mexico. God had finally settled him at take care of the bodies and souls of the inhabitants. Here he taught those to read who had capacity enough to leam, repeated their Ayes to the little children, cured the yellow fever, proponed riddles to the young men and played with the girls on Sunday, at blind man's buff a Tery new play which he had himself inttoduced, together With melons and sunflowers. Father Polo was at once the priest, schoolmaster and physician of the Tillage, He was indeed an accomplished man, of a very tender conscience, profound slumber, sensitive heart, enormous appetite, and of a pbisiognomy without spot or blemish, except that be had a cataract orer his right eye, which had been originally much the best of the two. Thus it was that his vision was weak and uncertain.

To the worthy priest, the brightest dsy was only as the feeble twilight of the morning, or the timid rays of the moon when first she rises above the trees. But he was so good, so pure hearted, so charitable, so full of excellent intentions, that no one allowed himself to laugh at the innumerable mishaps he committed so much respected was he, and in every way so worthy of respect The day came when a mistake of the good priest was followed by much chagrin and many tears. At the time I speak of, the most beautiful girl in the Tillage of Aday es, eren in the judgment of the women themselves, was Therese Paccard, the daughter of a Frenchman who. had married a bpamah wife. Not far from the villago lived a young man, the son of a Spanish father and French mother a fine looking fellow somewhat more Spanish than French, as Therese was more French than Spanish.

Our hero, dissatisfied with tending herds on the prairies of A voy emigrated near to Aday es, where he bad purchased a small traot of land, and elevated himself to the dignity of a proprietor. He lived with bis father and mother and a whole army of sisters, in a small cabin which be had erected with his own bands. Richard Alvares, then in bis twentieth year, was the handsomest man in the village, notwithstanding he wore the costume of the prairies a straw hat, a roundabout, and a buckskin pair of pantaloons, with moccasios to match. Alvares saw Therese, and loved her. Therese dropped her eyes beneath the burning gaze of Al rsres, and grew alternately red and pale.

Alvares, too, when the dark eyes of Therese fell upon him, was similarly affected. At the end of a month, the young girl went to consult Balthazar Pola Bad as bis eyes were, the worthy priest aaw her blushing. 'Yes, my child," he said, "yes, my chill I understand you. It is true the young man is not rich and you are very poor but you are bom honest, industrious, and of a fitting age you love one another, as I see clearly and it is not for me to forbid yonr being happy." About the same time and telling to the same result, that is to, to marriage, there was going on, between a couple tf maturer years, a courtship less pass'onate perhaps, but more prudent and more respectable. Madame Labeboyere, the widow of the wealthy planter, childless and past forty, had lived eighteen years on ber large and fertile Elantation.

Whether from idleness or weariness, ladame Lebeboyere had determined to receive the homage of an eld and wealthy Frenchman, who vegetated like herself near the village of Adayrs. M. Dulac, the rich Frenchman in question, was a little man, over sixty years of age, hyporbondrical to the very msrrow of his hones. She went to work, therefore, to ingratiate herself with the ridiculous old Frenchman she showed him the most unheard of officioutness, sent him tho most delicate viands, addressed him in tones of the fainteBt treble, and shaved off the moustache that ornamented her upper lip. The old gentleman grew pensive.

Ue asked himself, egotist that be was, whether the attentions and cares of so beautiful and charming a widow might not be a useful resource to him in the ever increasing infirmities of bis old age. lie went so far as to study phraes of gallantry, which he threw out, one after another, withjnuch grimace and as Madame Lebeboyere was as much pressed as he was, after some moments of hesitation and displays of becoming modesty, she consented to unite her heart and her slaves to the heart and slaves of M. Dulac. The venerable couple and the two joung lovers had thus changed vows the most dear, each one dreaming nothing but receive the sacrament of marriajre. Balthazar Polo, the good Providence of all husbands was called upon to witness the quadruple obligations.

Without knowing it the two couple had selected for their marriages the same day and the same hour. It hsppened, also, that all the bachelors at Adayes, young and old, had agreed to receivo the nuptial benediction the same day. The year is still called, in the annals of the parish, "Tie year of the ireiMings." You know, Richard," eaiJ Therese to her lover, "that Father Polo has promised to mnrry all who present themselves to morrow at noon, and the day after to morrow at four o'clock in the morning How embarrassing it would be to mnrry before the whole world 1 But, my dear Richard, if we were to marry day after to morrow at noon, who will see us I or if any do see us, being married themselves, what can they have to say I Let us marry, then, dear Richard, if you please, day after to morrow at four o'clock in the morning." The young' bridegroom yielded to the force of this reasoning, and parted from his betrothed to make the necessary preparations for the wedding. One thing is worthy of remark.that the caprice of the young and timid girl was likewise the caprice of the wilful and headstrong Madsme Labe doyere. She insisted with M.

Dulac, that she would not be married with the ethers at noon, bnt would go to the altar incognito, the day befure Lent, at four o'clock in tho morning. He consented. At length the last day of carnival arrived. The joyous carnival was about to die, and Lent raised its sharp pointed visage, when, at three o'clock in the morning, the church was thrown open, with a discordant and furious clattering of the three broken bells. The worthy Balthazar Polo, who had been performing the marriage ceremony all the preceding afternoon, was the first at bis post.

The church was speedily filled by the future conjuncts and their friends, the happy pairs coming in one one after another, and forming a spectacle of great variety and singular confusion. Nearly all Ibe new bridegrooms weVe wrapped in cloaks of a sombre hue, in which they sought protection from the inclemency of the morning. In fact, the sky, which, the evening before had been blue and serene, had suddenly become changed with thick and muttering clouds; March, the spoiled child of lb. spring, had panned from smiles to tears, from pleasure to anger. Fourteen couples, in two opposing rows, the men on one side, and Ibe women on the other, knelt down, leaving an interval for the priest to pass along, and unite the pairs by giving them bis benediction.

Behind the grooms stuod the relatives and friends of each, ready to receive the bride after the ceremony, and to conduct her in triumph to the house of ber husband. The body of the church was buried in darkness, the only lights being two candles of beeswax placed upon the altar. Outside there was gatheriog a terrible storm. As the day advanced, the night grew still more dark the wind blew violently against the holy edifice, and rushed in gusts through the half open door. Io this deplorable circumstance of the night and the storm, Father Polo aaw, what others bad told him frequently, that it was necessary to hasten the ceremony, if he wiiihed tho newly married pairs to arrive without inconvenience at their several borne.

He honied accordingly through the conjugal ranks, scarcely taking time to place the wedding rings upon the fingers held out to receive The ring being received, the worthy Bal thaiar handed the bride to ber husband's friends, who hastened to envelope her in her mantilla, and conduct her home before the atom came on. This was done more rapidly than can be described. At every step the good priest took, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, a newly married couple disappeared from the church, and Father Polo proceeded io the next In this touching and hasty ceremony, M. Dulac and Richard Alvares were on their knees by the side ol each other; opposite to them respectively were Madame Labedqyer and Therese Paccard, both trembling, the on with fear, the other with lore both enveloped in their cloaks both stretching out their hands for lb vredding rings, with their heads bowed down for the priest', benediction. Balthazar Polo, more blind than ever, reached the two coupes at a rapid pace.

Fourteen carriages, the noise of the storm, tb glare of the candle the mantaias of tba brides, brought about a very neoearyriu Tb. worthy priest, troubled in heart and soul, placed on lb finger of th beautiful There the rug of Ibe old and with ered Dulac, while Madame Labedoyera received ths ring of the handsome Richard; and to end tba ceremony, be handed Theresa to the friends of delivered Madam Labedoyera to thou of Richard, A loud crash of thunder extinguisted the beeswax candles tb church was shrouded io darkness, and Father Polo fervently commended to the protection of Heaven all whom be bad that night made happy. These hastened to mount their horses and depart. The kinsmen of Richard, all thinking the' load somewhat heavy, placed Madame Labedoyera upon the beautiful, surefooted and fleet horse, which he had brought for Therese. On the other hand, Therese threw herself lhrhtlv on the little amblinr nonv.

which M. Dulse had Durcbased exnresslr for the widow. Thus the two mdes rod on, the on in a trot, the other in a pace Madame Labedoyere escorted by a number of active and vigorous young gentlemen, the fluttering Therese by several stiud old planters, and a few other persona of mature rears. Therese arrived with ber escort, at the house of M. Dulac, just as the first drops of run began to fall In the morning twilight, she observed in the building a species of consequence, which did not comport exactly with ber ideas of Richard's cabin.

The trees and shrubbery indicated a lordly mansion, rather than an humble cottage. But as she had no time to collect ber thoughts, all this made but a faint impression on ber mind. Arrived at the portico, a swarm of slaves rushed out to welcome their new mistress. One took her mantilla, another conducted her to a spacious aod splendidly furnished room, a third hastened to offer her a chair, while a fourth, who had on her arms bracelets of silver, presented ber a mirror that she might readjust her hair, somewhat disarranged by ber ride. The onng girl opened ber eyes, and began to doubt whether she was awake or asleep.

She regarded the apartment with an earnest look. The room was furnished with huge gilt chairs with apala of crimson velvet, and exorriaitelv wronfrht ottomans encircled by garlands of oak an im mense mirror, guuea ana carveu like tne chairs, hun? against the Danered wall iuat over a marnifi cent mahogany sofa. Around the room were suspended the ancient portraits of the family, in loo? flowing wigs and brilliant armor. As to her self, she was seated in a large arm chnir of faded damask, with tarnuhed gold fringes, ber feet resting on a flowered foot stool, and before her, on a marble stand, was a wedding breakfast wbicb nothing could aurrpasa in richness and profusion. There was claret in long bottles, champagne secured by packthread, glasses of rock crystal, silver plate with coat of arms, Sevres porcelain so rare and costly at this day, and on plates of japanned wore, the savory trout, the chicken salad, the fri cassed mallards, and many other delicious viands of French cookery, such as the young girl had never tasted or dreamed of, "Ahl" said Therese, contemplating the splendor and the comfort, "this cannot be the mansion of Richard unless it may be," she added, after casting around another look, "that, after all, Richard is rich, and has intended me a happy surprise." Her doubts on the subject lasted but for a little while.

The inner door of the chamber opened slowly, and she saw enter an old gentleman, with a lean and jaundiced face, and a step painful and infirm. This personage, straightening himself up as well as be could, introduced himself by saying; Dulac bos the honor to salute Madame Dulac." The poor child gazed at him in astonishment As to the old man, not less surprised at first, but in a different manner, be recovered quickly, and eagerly seized the hand of the beautifu girl, which she dared not withdraw, out of respect fur one who reminded ber of ber grandfather. Throwing aside all the fine praises he had studied to please the widow, he said "Ah, Madame, pardon my embarrassment My good fortune confounds me. I am dumb with surprise and joy. How much you are changed since I saw you last 1 How happy am I to find my wife thrice as young and ten tunes more beautiful! Suffer me to congratulate you on this grand miracle, and to pour out my thanks to Ueavea" "It is no miracle, Monsieur," replied Therese, withdrawing her band; "I am whatlalwayshave been but there ia something strange in all this, that I cannot understand." "You have good reason," replied the old man, vcry good reason to nay no it ia indeed strange.

In the place of my faded widow, I tare found a fresh and blooming girl, with a lustrous eye and white and delicate hand a timid and trembling virgin as the sovereign mistress of my home and heart It is strange in fact, it is very strange it is a miracle that I cannot account for myself, but for which, once more, I thank you and Ueavea" At these words the terror of the voune eirl in creased. "Ah, Monsieur," exclaimed she, "we are I he sport of some fatal mistake, lou are not Richard; it is Richard that I want to see." And ringing her hands, she cried out, "Richard, obi II She started up to leave the bouse but the enamored old Frenchman placed himself before the door. Tho beauty which had struck him so vividly before, seemed to him more charming than ever. An overpowering passion inflamed his dried up soul, while he stndied, more at leisure, her round, plump face, her forehead covered with curls, ber finely moulded cheeks of a color so surprisingly red, her large black eyes, which her tears rendered more brilliant and her pouting and Vermillion lips. "May I take the liberty, Madame," said M.

Dulac, "to inquire who it iayou call upon by the name of Richard!" "It is Richard, my husband Richard Richard Alvares, whom I married this morning." "Ezcuse me, Madame," replied M. Dulac, in the blanJeet tones, "I know nothing of Richard Alvares. The person you married this morning is myself I am the one lo whom you pledged, before the altar, faith and fidelity. Ob, my young wife, my beloved young wife, look at the ring upon yonr finger, with the motto: 'Your till Death! That ring is mine. Henceforth, I am your protector, your friend, your father.

You are my wife, if not by consent of our will, at least by the decree of Heaven, which has united us by a bond that cannot be broken." M. Dulac would have gone on, had not a fit of coughing cut short his harrangue, no solemn and so loving. Therese, comprehending the whole extent of the accident which had married her bo contrary to her wishes, cast herself into the chair, weeping and desolate. The enamored old man tried to console her. He showed ber the most delicate attentions, and presented ber the richest presents pearl necklaces, gold chains, silk dresses, French gloves, perfumed handkerchiefs, and all the ornaments which had been destined for Madame Labedoyere.

He spoke to her of the extent and coumodiousness of bis house, the size of his plantation, the number of bis slaves, and the bales ol cotton and the pounds of indigo he raised to the hand and wound up by assuring her solemnly that at his dtath he would bequeath to her his whole estate. Perceiving that she listened to him somewhat more attentively, be seasoned his discourse with a little calumny against Richard, so poor and so incumbered with a family. He insinuated adroitly, that the accident which had made him the happiest of men, could not have happened without some aid on the part of Richard. Then he represented Richard in the arms of the rich widow, forgetful of poor Thertse, be had sacrificed for the sake of fortune. His manner was so sincere, so submissive, that Therese began to regard bim with an eye of favor.

She placed the gold chain upon her neck, clasped the gold bracelets on her arms, and little by little consented to share with M. Dulac the banquet he had prepared, Heated at bis side, she held out her gloss for the champagne, and drowned her nose and her sorrows in its sparkling foam. In the meantime, Madame Labedoyere, now Madame Richard, was rapidly borne to the cabin of ber spouse, on the mettlesome courser that Richard had brought from the Avoyelles. Although the dwelling.of Richard Was further off than that of M. Dulac, yet owing to the rapidity of the pace, she made the passage in the same time a Therese, and arrived just as the day was breaking.

Her surprise was greater eren than that of the young girl. The room into which she was led bad a floor of roughly faewo and badly jointed planks; the bare beams of the loft were blackened with smoke an entire cypress log was blazing brightly in the huge fire place a few old chain, a dozen of stools, ana two large arm chairs, constituted Ibe whole of the furniture. Into this room the widow was introduced. No slave was present to receive her. A white headed girl assisted her ia taking off her mantilla.

When she stood before them, in all the blaze of ber jewels, and ber robes of rustling silk, the two old folks, who bad risen up to welcome her the one a old man of sixty years, with a white beard and a buckskin pair of pantaloons, the other a respectable matron, some ten years younger, with a large cotton bonnet and coarse woolen dress withdrew their bands stretched out to embrace their daughter, and bowed themselves to the floor in respectful silence. Concluded next toeel. Chased, by a Catamount i scTxx a mt lira or fiosxes. Oh I (At Dan Young Ladies of tba Illinois Institute, at' Wheatoo, Da Page County, recently passed the following reoolutioo, unanimously: Resolved, That we, young ladies of lb Illinois Institute, pledge ourselves not to keep company with, or ioin in tb sacred bond of matrimoov with any young gentleman who is not in favor of tne auuuo jjiquur uv, or num. vuier yruuiwturj law.

Mrs. Partington says there must biomkia between poet and pullets, lor both are alway chanting thair lay. I was once told a thrilling adventure of one of the first settlers in Paris. Maine, with a catamount. Altboogh I cannot relate it with that lively effect with which it was told me, still I have embodied the facta in this sketch.

I had been on a hunting excursion, and, as I was returning, I fell in with that often described personage, "the oldest inhabitant' He kindly accosted me, and I entered gladly into conversation with him. "Young man," said he, "when I first visited this town, there were only three families in it You, who lire in ease, can never know the hardships and perilous scenes through which the earlier settlers passed. Come with me, he continued, "and I will show you the exact spot where the first hut ever erected in this town was located." I followed slowly until the old man reached the bottom of the west side of Paris Hill. "There," said be, "on this spot was erected the nub i snail never iorget tne nrsc time visited it, and the story I was told." "What is it I asked. "I will teTI yoc.

When the first settler moved here, his nearest neighbor lived twenty miles distant in the present town of Rumford, and the only rood between the two neighbors was a path that he bad cut himself, so that in case of want or sickness he might get assistance. One I think it was the third season after he had settled here, I lie wan vuiigeu tu go tu Aumiuru alter provisions. tie arose earlr one morning, and started lor his nearest neighbor. People of the present day would think it hard to make a journey of twenty miles for a bag of potatoes, and on foot too but such was the errand of the first settler. He arrived be fore noon, was successful in getting bis potatoes, got some refreshments and started home.

But it was not very easy to travel with a load of potatoes and finally, at sundown, he threw off his load, and resolved to make a shelter and spend the night I hare been with him to the exact locality of it i .1. rj it wan Biiumeu juotuu uie uiuer niuo vi toe stream on which are mills, In the Tillage now known as Pinhook ia Woodstock. He built a shelter, struck a fire, and took out of his sack a piece of meat to roast Ah I young man, you httle know with what a relish a man eats his food in the woods, but, as I was saying, he commenced roasting his meat, when he was startled by a cry so shrill that he knew at once that it was a catamount I will relate it to yoa as near as I can, in the language of the old settler himself. "I listened a moment" said he, 'and it was repeated eren louder, and it seemed nearer than before. My first thought was for my own safety.

But what was I to do I was at least ten miles from my home, and there was not a single human being nearer than that to me. Io a moment I concluded to start for home, for I knew the nature of the catamount too well to think I should stand the least chance to escape if I remained ia the camp, I knew, too, that he would ransack the camp, and I hoped that the meat which I left might satisfy bis appetite, so that he would not follow me after eating it I had not proceeded more than half a mile, before I knew by the shrieks of the animal, that he was in sight of the camp. I doubled my speed, content that the animal should have my supper, although I declared I would not have run if I had hod my trusty rifle with me. But there would be no cowardice ia my running from an infuriated catamount doubly furious, probably, from being hungry, and nothing for a weapon save a pocket knife. "I bad proceeded, probably, about two thirds of the distance home, and bearing nothing more of the fearful enemy, began to slacken my pace, and thought I had nothing to fear.

I had left behind about two pounds of raw beef and pork, which I hoped bad satisfied the ferocious monster. Just as I had come to the conclusion that I would run no more, and was looking back astonished, almost at the distance I had traveled in so short a space of time, I was electrified with horror to bear the animal shriek again I "I then knew that my fears were realized. The beast bad undoubtedly entered the camp and eaten what he could find, and then had scented my track, and had followed after me. It was about three miles to my log cabin, and it had already become dark. I redoubled my epeed.but I felt that I must die.

And such a death I The recollection of that feeling comes to my mind as vividly as though 1 knew the animal was now pursuing me. But I am no coward though to be torn to pieces, and almost eaten alive by a wild beast, was horrible. "I calmly unbuttoned my frock, with the determination to throw it off before the animal should approach me, hoping thereby to gain advantage cf the time he would lose in tearing it to pieces. "Another shriek, and I tossed the garment behind me in the path. Not more than five minutes elapsed before I heard a shrill cry as he came to it How that shriek electrified me I I bounded like a deer.

But in a moment the animal made another cry, which told me plainly that the garment had only exasperated him ia a fiercer chose. God," said "and must I die thus I can't, I must live for my wife and children and I even ran faster than I had done before, and unbuttoning my waistcoat, I dropped it in the path as I pro ceeded. The thoughts of my wife and children urged me to the most desperate speed, for I thought more of their unprotected state, than the death I was threatened with, for, should I die, what would become of them "In a moment, the whole events of my life crowded to my brain. The hot blood coursed through my veins with a torrent's force. The catamount Bluieked londcr and louder, and as fast as I was running, he was rapidly approaching me.

At last I come to the brook, which you see yonder, and it was double the site which it now is, for it was swollen by recent freshets, anil I longed to cool my fevered brain in it but I knew it would be an certain death to me as to die by the claws or I he beast With three bounds I gained the opposite bank, and then I could clearly see a light in my log cabin, which was no more than one hundred rods distant "I had proceeded but a Bhort distance befure I heard the plunge of the catamount behind me. I leaped with more than human energy, for it wan life or death. In a moment the catamount gave another shriek, as though he was afraid he would lose his prey. At the same instant I yelled at the top of my voice to my wife, and in a moment I saw her approach the door with a light "With what vividness the moment comes to my mind 1 The catamount was not so far from me as I was from the house. I dropped my hat, the ouly thing that I could leave to stay the progress of the beast.

The next moment I fell prostrate in my own cab'm. Here the old settler paused and wiped the big drop, from his brow ere he proceeded How long I laid when I fell, I know not, but when I was roused to consciousness, I was laying on my rude couch and my wife was bathing my head with cold water, and my children were gazing anxiously at me. My wife told me that is soon as I fell she immediately shut the door and barred it, for what she knew not and that as sooo as I wan fallen and the door was closed, a fearful spring was made upon it but the door was strong and well barred, and withstood the spring of the beast "As soon as I was fully recovered, I knelt down and offered the most fervent prayer to the Almighty that ever passed my lips or ever will agaia My family and myself shortly retired, but no sleep visited me that night In the morning, when my little son, six years old, told me that he saw the eyes of the colt in the window in the night I knew the catamount had been watching to gain admittance but our windows, yoa will perceive, are not large enough to permit a catamount to eater. "When I looked Into the glass the next morning, I was horror struck at my altered appearance. My hair, which the day before, was dark as midnight was changed to the snowy whiteness you now nee and although I have enjoyed good health since, I shall never recover from the fright I experienced on being chased by a catamount" A Formidable Undertaking.

A ootempory puts the tobacco question into the fallowing shape "Suppose a tobacco chewer is addicted to the habit of chewing tobacco fifty years of bis life, and that eachdaV of that time be consumes two inches of solid plug, it amount to six thousand four hundred ana seventy fire feet, making nearly one mile and a quarter in length of solid tobacco, half an inch thick, and two inches broad. Now what would the young beginner think, if ha had the whole amount stretched ont before bim, and were told that to chew it would be one of tba exercise of hi life, and also that it would tax bis in ntothaamotoftwolboaid.and ninety four dollar ininfntv i'itlerjiri The magnetic telegraph between Bom bar, Hadraj and Calculi was opened on the first of February. The whole enjerprise embrace a distance of orer two thousand miles, and ba been completed in a little more than a year. Tba distanc from Aden to is 2170 mile, so that with tba completion of tb railroad acroaa tba denart to Sues, and th telegraph frotai Alexandria to Trieste, cnmmmjicatioq from Lao don to Calcutta can be had in a forfniglt's itoeV 'An Irishman a few day since, bought a braily Bible, and on taking it lWkiade hi record a follows: "Patrick Dob, bora Sept, SO, aged fir years." English and American Hotels. We could hardly picture to ourselves a greater contrast than that between an old country and an Americarrhotel.

The two things are not in the least alike. Arriving at aa Inn in England you are treated with an immecce deference; allowed the seclusion of a private apartment charged exorbitantly for everything, and, at departure, cur tesied and bowed out of the door, as if a prodigious favor had been conferred on the establishment In the United States, things are managed differently. The Americans, with some faults of character, possess the singular merits of not being exclusive, exorbitant, subservient But where all travel, hotel keepers can afford to act magnanimously. Instead of looking for livlihood from a few customers, scheming petty gains br running up a bill for use of candles, faring and other con veniences, and smoothing everything over Dy a mercenary bow, the proprietor of an American hotel a capitalist at the bead of a great concern, and would despise doing anything shabby hundreds pour in and out of his hotel daily he notices neither your aiming nnr going; without ceremony you ore free from the establishment and when you pay and depart, there are no bows, no thanks, but you are not fleeced and that is always felt to be a comfort Chamber? Jfotee in America. The Pint Woolen Factory in the United Slates In said to have been put in operation at Hartford, Conn.

The articles of agreement for it were signed April 23, 1782. Washington was inaugurated President of the United State in a suit of cloth made there. John Fenno's Gazette of the United May 6, 1780, contains the fol lowing notice ot it ifanufaeture. The President "of the United States on the day of bu inauguration, appeared dressed in a complete suit of home spun clothes, but the cloth was of so fine a fabric, and so handsomely finished, lliat it was universal ly mistaken for a foreign manufactured supernne cloth. This fact the editor hopes, will apologise for bis not having mentioned it ia his last paper, a circumstance wbicb must be considered aa not only flattering to our manufacture io particular.

out interesting to our countrymen in general. His Excellancy. the Vice President appeared also in a suit of American manufacture, and seve ral members of both Houses were distinguished by the lame token of attention to the uianufac. turiog interests of their country. From thin bright Era aee Columbia rine liar empire prop'd by aim who arcbe'd the skis; Freedom and Independence, Arts snd Peace, Shall crown la.

scene, till Time and Nature cease. To encourage our own manufactures was felt to be a great duty of American statesmen in the ear ly times. With many who are called statesmen in these latter days, it is thought to be better to encourage oieign workmen at tne expense ri our owa We don't believe in it Bayard Taylor on "NutmegC "On our return to the ship we visited a nutmeg plantation. The trees, which are from twenty to thirty feet in height are planted io row at interval of about twentr feet. The leaf is dark green and glossy.

resembling that oi Ibe laurel, and the frait, at a little distance, might be taken for a email russet colored apple, nuea npe me uuc nuns spurn ia the centre, showing a scarlet net work or mac enveloping an inner nut, black as ebony, th kernel of which ia the nutmeg of commerce. The clove tree, not now in bearing season, nas some resemblance to the the leaf ia smaller and the foliage more loose and spreading. As we drove Ihroqgh th orchard the warm air of noon was bearr with amen. The rich odor exhaled from the tree penetrated lb. frame with a sensation of languid and voluptuous repose.

oFerfume became in appetite, aod the ecnsei were dragged with aa overpowerjng feeling of luxury. Had I continued to indulgo in it I should era long have t7.X 01. imn.l.iMli tiia nllinhwi roseleat" A to tb crops, it has always been found that season of serere drought has a beneficial effect on the son, so that beunUlol crop are prnuy aux. tn Iw. nhlaiil ihe fcllawinaT rear.

Beside, lb drought of lha past year taught nomerahiabl le sonain regard to tb. importance of deeper and tUr im.p, wnicn most iarmera win pot in ptac tis tne coming IMgraTlooU faffing off thi. year. Th.Com: missiooera report tb. total number Nw York, from th 1st of January to the 28th of March, at 18.877.

This is about eight thousand lea than arrived during tb.inperic4 last year. If th deereae continue to the sam proportion, tb number daring th year will be nearly t5, rjOQ fan than ialSSn From lb American Phrenological JotrrnaL Sarah Benjamin 109 Tears Old. A correspondent to whom we are alad indebted for the daguerreotype from wbicb our portrait was engraved, furnishes us with the following account of this remarkable old lady Mrs. Sarah Benjamin was bom in. or near Chester, Orange Co, N.

Y. She will be on hundred and nine year old on the 17th day of the present month. She has had three husbands, all of whom are now dead. Her first husband, Wm. Reid, was killed ia battle at Charleston.

South Carolina. They were married in Orange county, N. Y. Her second husband died ia the far West His name was Aaron Osborn. They were married in Albany, N.

Y. He was enlisted for three years in the army at the time of marriage. Her third husband, John Benjamin, died at rieasant Mount Wayne Ca They were married io Orange Co, N. Y. By her last two husbands abe bad several children.

She was with the army all through the Revolutionary war. She was in Albany during the hard winter of 1780, and at West Point two or three years, while the army were stationed there, and when it left under General Washington, she followed. Her business was cooking and washing for her husband and other soldiers. She speaks distinctly of riding on horseback through the street ot rmiadeiptua on ue way to or town, ana also of embarking on board ship at the head of Elk river, and of cruising down Chesapeake Bay, and landing (I think) at James river. She was at or near Yorktown during the entire siege, employed as usual, and saw the surrender of Ihe place.

She says that tho roar of those cannon is still in her ears, and Ihe memory of the sights and scenes of that time are as freab io ber mind as though tbey happened but yesterday. She says that Comwal lis did not give up his sword to Washington Cornwall! appointed one of hi officers to do that disagreeanie part oi tne nnsineas; Washington also appointed on officer to receive the sword Cornwallis feigned sickness as an excuse, and the generosity of Washington overlooked the matter. She speaks of the officers and men of the British army veeping as they passed, in long files, by the place where their conqueror stood unarmed, defenceless, and in a strange land. She says that those tears mode the Americans feel awkward, but she presumed that the British felt more so. It was during the siege that General Washington cautioned the old lady about exposing herself to the enemy's bullets, as she stood near one nf the trenches.

"Oh 1" said she, "General, the bullet nerer cheats the gallows and the General passed on with a smile. Of such stun was the women of 16 composed I How different from the delicate ladies of 1855, who can't stand a breath of pure air coming in at the open window, for fear of a death cold 1 Nevertheless, the world is growing better. Mrs. Benjamin was in the town after its surrender, and speaks of the appearances presented there. Sha saw the work of the bombshells upon the houses, dead negroes lying around, and, id stacks standing by themselves, the arms of the enemy.

No white men were left unburied. Io due time she returned to Orange Coand remained there for a while, at or near Newhurr'h. She af terwards retired into the interior of the county ber husband naving gone west and earned a living by working for the farmers. She afterwards removed to White Lake, and there married Ben jamia She has been a resident of Wayne Co. thirtyt seven years.

Her memory is as good as ever. She speaks of things happening when she was only five years old I more than a century ago. Sb mentioned the circumstance of her father holding her up ia a boat while crossing the Delaware, near where Stroudsburg now is, to pick some berries from a bush which grew out from an overhanging bank. She was only five years old then I She speaks of the costumes of maidens a century ago her playmates and young friends, long, long years ago ia heavea. She counts by halves and quarters of centuries, as you and I would by halves and quarters of years.

Her eye is a bttle dim, her hearing a little thick, and she stoops a little. The hand of time has been lightly hud upon her. Her hair is not very gray, and bnt a few years ago she had teetb. Her voice is still rich, full and unshaken. She has an old umbrella stick which she uses as a staff, though not neceuarily.

She spins ber thirty two knots of yarn weekly, and doubles and twists it having previously carded the wool. When I came in upon her, the old spinningwheel the only one which I have seen for years was humming its olden tune, and she walking to and from the spindle I I assure you. Sir, it is not often that you will find a century in calico, playing upon the good "old fashioned piano When she perceived me she turned about and gave me a hearty shake of the hand, and we sat down to talk of what I have written yon. W. iffl BUILD 3 From the Cnutew Tsfexnplu Se Kind to the Poor.

It there single terson whn in KtaaeA with plenty, that has ever visited the hatiiaticn of th. poor and lowly, aad ha seen them shivering with th cotdVand exhibiting ths very picture of distress, without involuntarily giving thank to th great and good benefactor of mankind who ha placed them abor want Who is there that coea forth on amid and tarn. pestuous winter night with th flake of snow falling thick, ud fast, without feeling deep sympathy for the poor, who bar neither clothing, nor fuel, to keep away winter' chilling blasts! Or who that listens to the touching appeals of poor mother, soliciting alma to sustain her children from starvation, can resist such appeals, without incurring the displeasure of our Heavenly Father, if by His kind proridence ha has placed the mean of relief within hi or her control I Kindness of the heart ia too Httle cherished and cultivated by madkind in general, and ther ia too much disregard to th. djctate of conscience, which seldom fail to point out tb. path of duty; and, if we do not obey, it is not through ignorance, bnt determination to blind our eye to the misery around us, which call so loudly tor out Christian sympathy, and commiseration, in tba war of sub stantial aid.

Many talk much about the dutii we owe to society, and kindness to the poor, bet their kindness too frequently does not extend beyond their own family circle, or is exhibited only on parSca lar occasions, and then it is rery liberal, but perhaps the next day turns a tenant with a peer suffering family into the sheet; and this cruel act I am sorry to think would be mora frequently put in force, were it not for fear of the world's censure, and a desire to be thought human; but the true character of such person is soon mads manifest, and respected accordingly by those who need no favors at their hands, and who look mm them aa serpents deprived of their venom; not with fear, uui ungual. M.W Roxbury, March 1, 1855. The Winter of the Heart. Let it never come upon yoa Live so that good angels may protect yon from this terrible evil the winter of the heart Let no chilling influence freeze up the fountains of sympathy and happiness in it depth no cold burthen settle over its withered bone, bar. enow on the faded flowers, no rude blasts or discontented moan shriek through its desolated chambers.

Your life path mar lead rou thronzh trials. which for a time seemed utterly to impede your progress, and shut out the very light of heaven from your anxious gaze. lenury may take tae puce ot ease and plenty; your luxurious rooms may be exchanged for a single lowly room the soft couch for a straw pallet the rich viands for the coarse fond of the poor. Summer friends may forsake you, and the unpity ing world pass you, with scarcely a look or word of compassion. Yon may be forced to toil wearOr, steadily on, to earn a livelihood; yon may encounter fraud and the base avarice that would extort the last farthing, till yon well nigh turn in disgust from your fellow beings.

Death may sever the dear ties that bind yon to earth, and leave yoa in tearful darkness. That noble, manly boy, the sole hope of vour declining years, may be taken from yen while your spine clings to him with a wild tenacity, which eren the shadow of the tomb cannot eren subdue. But amid all these sorrows, do not come to the conclusion that nobody was ever so deeply afflicted as your are. and abandon every anticipation of "better days" io the unknown future. Do not lose your faith in human excellence be cause your confidence has sometimes been betray ed, nor believe tnat tnendstup ia only delusion.

ana love a Dngnt pnantoni wnicn guoes away from your grasp. Do not think yon are fated to be miserable because you are disappointed in your expectations, and baffled in your pursuits. Do not declare that God has forsaken yon when your way is hedged about with thorns, or repine sinfullT when ha call your dear ones to the land beyond the grave. Keep a holy trust in heaven through every trial bear adversity with fortitude, and look ur ward in hours of temptation and suffering. When your locks are white, your eyes dim, and yonr limbs weary; when your steps falter on the steps va an tAau Vfal9 KIUU, ,17 lBT and buoyancy of spirit wmen will shield yon from the winter of the heart A Scene of Warning There stood, yesterday morning', befire ihe bar of the Court of Sessions in this city, a man yoong in years, respeciaois in ureas, mieugeni aw Honest in countenance, but bis eve was downcast and his cheek: was blanched.

He stood there a convic ted felon, but unlike hundreds who are constantly occupying the same ignominious place, crime had not hardened his soul info defiance, and even in the depth and bvicknesa of his guilt, there was still one chord of genuine feeling which responded to the touch of shame and seifcotxlemnalioo. and caused the eye to fall and the cheek to pale. The crime of which he stood convicted was forgery forgery on a banking institution to a large amount ami uixiubu wuu emir, wiuco nau maun it oc cessful. "William said the Jadga to the felon, "hare yon anything to ear why the sentence of the law should not be pronounced upon yon 1" And with a trembling voice the felon answered "I fully deserve any penalty which may be inflicted upon me. Two rears ago I was fivirur han py with my family in Ohio, respected by aU.

But 111 true luuu uuur a cuuiuiitteu tnat lor wnicn A am now to receive my sentence, and ray family to be cast upon the world, to shudder at the nam. I bear. Yet it ia my fault Had I paused and pondered, I would not have been here, and yon would have been eared the unpleasant duty which 3 on are compelled to do. I must have been in a ream when I committed the crime." Winiam Easane, Ihe forger, was id a dream when ba yielded himself to crime a dream in which hundreds such as he, who up to a certain period, hare lived and were proud to live a life pf honesty and industry, have been before him, a dream in wbicb vision, of passion, gratified and speculation on a dnirlmg road of success, madden the soul into the desire for gold, and bend it Eke a willow under the strong arm of temptation a dream in the blinding brighlnesaof which the dreamer takes the first step acroa the bomidary of honesty to find himself suddenly in utter dark ness, with no other way to turn but to plunge deeper into the gloom, ret each maEentragrjely hoping to retrieve the step and come again to the fight From such dreaming as this come the developments continually taking place and increasing among us men one day deemed honest and respectable, appearing th. next a robber of their employers, as men of false pretences, erjonterfeiters and forgers, and yet in soul not steeped in crime, although none the lea dangerous to the eommilnt than the hardened criminal.

Justice demands their punishment as well a those old in crime, and it would be better if punishment were oftener meted out to them than it is. One of this das in now punished in our midst, and the sad wreck of a once honest man, which William Kiaeane duy presented to tb. Court ot Seaater. should be an impressive wsrofog to all young men in thi city, just commencing a life of business, to steel themselves against temptation, and bewar of th first step in crime, wbicb ha closed tb door of a prison upon William Easane, the forger. Tlte Force of Simple Example.

A gentleman, of considerable fortune, but stranger to either personal or family religion, eea evening took a solitary walk through a part of hi own grounds. Ha happened to come near to a mean hnr, where a poor man with a numerous family lived, who earned hi bread by daily labor. Ha beard a voice, pretty loud and continued, Notknowingwhat it was, curiosity prompted him to listen. The man, who was piously disponed, happened to be at prayer with hi family. So soon as he eoold bear the words; he heard him giving thank with great affection to God, for the gcodneaa of His provi dence in giving him food to eat, and raiment to pot on, with supplying them with what tra Betetaaj and ccoiforUbt) in this life.

He was mrmedfafsIT with aatomahment and ofit to bimseI4 "Doe. thi. poor man; wko taJJ batU meanest fareVand eLt vera labor, give thank to God hlf anS honor, ud everything law bte, hare hardly rr beat my kiw, trrioade any ackC ledgnleD. Mak 11IrJJ TTrfLavidGo presidential onmrrwe. JLveTtfeW hrioeia.

Um to a ruJanJ gaaSe of God and wligkiiTK iaIck. o'iV leriicnuTt in aa r0B th baa the following beautiful umiriuoo of hi view of the world: Shall I say that what to topcoiUa Viih God bad ahow lb. wS.by bis dU not ttetriS efirt aad .11 the strength ot 'risJw. wy b. afi.

to gather teak of it body rau.