NEW ENGLAND FARMER BOSTON, SATURDAY MORNING, JAN. 26, 1856. Jjoifs Corner. TO AH ABSENTEE. O'er hill and dale, and distant sea, Through all the miles that stretch between, My thought must fly to rest on thee, And would, though world should intervene. Nar, thou art now io dear, methinks The farther we are forced apart, Affection's firm elastic links But bind thee closer round the heart. For now we sever each from each, I learn what I bare lost in thee Alas, that nothing less could teach, How great indeed my love should be ! Farewell ! I did not know tby worth, But thou art gone, and now 'tis prized: Bo angels walked unknown on earth, But when they flew were recognized ! Hood. THE KYFFHAUSER. The following old German tale undoubtedly furnished the hint of Kip Van AVinkle to Washington Irving. Every German knows, or ought to know, the locality of the Kyff hauser mountain, and the legends connected with it. A tradition has long been current that the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa dwelt there; that he might still be seen sitting at the stone table, through which his beard has grown, and reading from a book in which he recorded every political event of importance which has occurred in Germany. The Emperor still loves his country, and is deeply interested in her history ; and it is the popular belief that he will one day appear, and assemble around him his true Germans. The traveller who visits the Kyffhauser, searches often, in the wild woods that skirt its base and sides, for the door or rock by which he can enter into the interior of the mountain, to visit the haunt of the old emperor. But it is only a favored few who have been enabled to find this entrance , and even these have been unsuccessful, till they learned the talismanic sentence by which its secrets are disclosed. Those magic words are now no longer pronounced ; they are forgotten throughout the land. The memory of the people, however, retains a legend that has some significance. Some hundred years ago, there lived close by these mountains, a herdsman whose name was Kunz. He was a brave and honest fellow ; had a fine growing flock, by which he was able to live comfortably, and a handsome wife. Her tongue, however, was as sharp as her eyes were bright, and Bne often made the little cottage rather a warm Elace for the good hearted herdsman. But after er passion was over, she was always more cordial and smiling than everj and then the little Susette, their only child, not yet two years old, had many winning ways ; so that Kunz thought he had no reason to murmur at his lot. One day, when he was tending the sheep and singing one of his wild songs to himself, he fell into a reverie, taking no note of the sheep, that strayed in every direction out of sight Greta, his wife, was so much incensed at this, and reproved fler husband so sharply, that he resolved to quit home for the whole day following, and return only after his absence had caused some little uneasiness. He found it harder than he had anticipated to keep this resolution. He thought continually of his playful little daughter, and even the passionate temper of Greta seemed easier to him than a separation i yet he persevered. He mused as he walked along, and he became convinced that want of wealth was the source of all his troubles. "If I could bring finery home every day to my wife," he murmured, "she would always be gentle. But I am poor j she has it every day in her power to reproach me with the fact, that at our marriage, she possessed five sheep more than I. Would I were rich. I wonder if there is truth in the story of those treasures concealed in the Kyffhauser ? I wonder what the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa would answer to my petition ? But alas ! what avail all my wishes when I do not know the sentence that has power to open that door 1" Such were the musings of poor Kunz. Meanwhile, the sun declined, the shadows of evening were gathering in the valley j it was time to go home, if he "would avoid the reasonable reproaches of dame Greta. The herdsman rose from the mossy seat where he had been reclining, and looked about for his Hock. The sheep had strayed into a meadow below, and Hunter, the dog, on a signal irom ms master, leu the way to bring them homeward. On his road back, driving the flock, Kunz was induced, by, I know not what strange impulse, to choose another path than that he was accustomed to travel, and one leading close by the Kyffhauser. He suffered his dog and flock to pursue their usual way homeward, while he himself wound through the woods, amid abrupt ascents, till his steps were arrested before a steep rock, in which was rudely shaped out what resembled a door. Kunz had often seen this before j the circumstance that now excited his amazement and thrilled him with superstitious fear, was to see this door, which he had only understood could be opened by magic, standing open ! He stood for a few moments, rooted to the spot. All around him was deep stillness, and the hade was fait enwrapping the mountain. Kunz was not insensible to fear ; but curiosity, and the vague desires that had long disturbed' him, proved strong enough to urge him forward. Without reflection on the consequences of what he was doing, he passed through the narrow door into the cavern. There was nothing to alarm his fears within, though he found himself instantly in total darkness. The air was pure and fresh, and he encountered none of the slimy reptiles that sometimes live in the recesses of the mountains. After he had walked some distance, he was much comforted to see the gleam of torches. All remains of dread vanished as he saw the light, and he went on briskly, nearing the illumination every moment. The sound of music, cf laughing voices, and of cups jingling together, now came to his ears. He ful-lowed the sound, and presently entered a spacious vault, ceiled with the solid rock, and brilliantly lighted. Here was an oaken table, around which were seated knights in splendid apparel, drinking and carousing. Upon the table stood huge pitchers, marvelously wrought, of gold and precious stones, filled with costly wines, the fumes of which exhilarated Kunz. The cups from which the knights were drinking, were of massive gold. The only person present who seemed to take no part in the revelry was a pale old woman, who stood not far from the table. She was dressed in garments of a very ancient fashion, with a large bunch of keys hanging at her girdle; and Kunz saw that she was a sort of housekeeper or steward, for the guests continually called for her to replenish the pitchers. She obeyed promptly but there was an air of deep sadness about her, and in her every movement, that showed she was no voluntary dweller in this strange abode. The herdsman began to long lor a seat at the convivial board, and a draught of the wine that seemed to provoke so much merriment He even thought it would not be so terrible a thing to remain here. "What are green meadows and streams worth," said he, "to one who must walk over them with a discontented spirit, and unsatisfied wishes ?" He looked earnestly at all the company, endeavoring to discover the emperor in one of them ; but among the stately and noble looking knights, he could see none who had the venerable aspect, and the long flowing beard, said to distinguish Frederick II. "These must be his followers," thought Kunz. The herdsman was now observed by one of the knights, who beckoned hira to come nearer. Kunz hesitated and trembled a little ; but seeing that the knight looked down upon him kindly, he drew near to him, and saluted him with a respectful ohesi-ance. The knight asked who he was, whence he had come, and with what object; and Kunz, inspired by a cup of wine which was ofl'cred to him, and which he eagerly accepted.told his story with great frankness, confessing his fears of his wife and his wish to propitiate her, and all in a manner so ingenious and droll, that the guests several times burst out a-laughing. At length they had finished drinking, and there was a silence for a few moments. On. of them then proposed that they should beguile the time by a game at ninepins. The others readily assented and invited the herdsman to set up the pins, promising as a reward, at much wine as he could drink. Kuni joyfully accented this proposal. The old woman put a cup in his hands, and brought him a large pitcher filled with wine. The company then adjourned to the play-ground. The herdsman set up the pins, and drank between whiles, the players engaged briskly in the sport, while he drank and drank, till the wide vault around him seemed in motion, and the lights and people began to dance before his eyes. It was lucky for hum that they left off play before he became incapable of performing his part As the knights were going away, one of them rolled the two balls toward Kunz. "Take them for your reward, my good, fellow," said he. Kunz mechanically took them, put one in each pocket, and lost his recollections in sleep. Meanwhile, dame Greta was not a little alarmed, when late in the evening the flock came home ac- onmmni hv the doi?. but without the master, She went some distance to meet him. and called his name many times ; nut no one answered her. In the extremity of erief and alarm she hastened back to the hamlet, aroused her neighbors and friends, and had search made everywhere for her lost husband. The next day and the next, the whole country was scoured : but without success. Weeks passed, but Kunz returned not Greta now fully believed that he had been slain. She mourned tor him sincerely, wearing the deepest weeds, and tying a black ribbon round the hat of the little Susette. All the neighbors sympathized with her as a lone and desolate widow. : When the year of mourning was ended, the fair Greta laid aside some of her garments of sorrow. She went once more into company, for she was of a social disposition, joined sometimes in the dance, and received visitors. It was not long before she yielded to the suit of one of her neighbors, whom we will call Fritz, and she bestowed her hand upon him. Fritz proved himself as kind-hearted and gentle as poor Kunz had been. He bore with patience the scolding of his helpmate ; or when it waxed too fierce, took his staff and hat and walked out Sometimes he would quietly go to sleep ; for being watchman to the hamlet, he had commonly but little sleep at night The little Susette, who grew every year more charming, was his favorite, for dame Greta never had another child. Susette was, in truth, the prettiest maiden in the whole village. She was neat, industrious and obedient; devotedly attached to her parents, and sincerely pious. Life passed to her like a summer's day, and it was quite a surprise to find herself seventeen. Ah ! she had cause for surprise, to find that love had crept into her heart! Franz, the young and handsome son of the rich inn-keeper Veit, was the object of tliis sweet girl's first affection. He loved her sincerely in return ; sought her society at every opportunity, and finally made known to her father that he could not he happy without her for his wife. Veit was ol a very different opinion. In his eves wealth was the great thing to be coveted ; and he refused to receive a portionless maiden as his daughter. He commanded his son to desist from his visits to her, and treated her and her .parents with coldness and unkindness. Dame Greta took this treatment greativ to heart, and so did the good Fritz ; for he ioved his step-daughter, and would have given some years of his life to secure his daughter's happiness. He tried to reason with old Veit ; but finding him obstinate, turned his atten tion to consoling poor Susette. For the first time in his life he wished himself rich, and began to form plans to acquire wealth. le was one night walking his watchman s round up and down the village, absorbed in thought He saw a heavy, old-fashioned, yet, as well as he could observe through the darkness, splendidly decorated carriage, drawn by six horses, drive through the street, and, at no great distance from him, stop suddenly. Fritz came nearer, with some curiosity to ascertain whose was so fine an equipage. The coachman called to him, requesting assistance, as a wheel ot the carriage was loose, i lie honest watchman promptly rendered the desired help. As the coach man again mounted the box and was ready to drive on, one ot the gentlemen sitting: m the car riage threw the watchman three pieces of money, saying at the same time, "My friend, when you want a drink of good wine, come to the Kyfi'hauser, call the housekeeper, and telt her you are the person who fastened the carriage wheel. She will give you what you want not for sale but for yourself and your friends." 1 he carriage drove off. Fritz was not a little astonished, on lookine at the coins, to find that they were Wildmann's dollars. He resolved not to lay them up, but to spend them for the advantage of Susette. The next holiday he told his wife and step-daughter to dress themselves as well as possible ; and having put on his own best attire, gave each an arm, and accompanied them to Veit's inn. There he showed them into the rjarlov. called for refreshments and wine as if he had been a millionaire, and invited his host to drink with him. Veit accepted the invitation, curious to know how his good neighbor had become possessed of money enough to order such an entertainment. The design ol i ntz was to set the avaricious old landlord drunk, and then to obtain from him his consent to the marriage of Franz with Susette. But Veit could bear a great deal of wine ; the last of Wildemann's dollar was spent, and though he drank vigorous draughts, he remained to all appearance perfectly sober. It was not exactly so with the honest watchman. His tongue was set loose by the wine, and before the evening was over he had related to the astonishment of all, his adventure with the people in the carriage. He ended by bidding Susette take a large pitcher and go to the Kyffhauser, to ask wine of the housekeeper in the name of the person who had fastened the carriage wheel. Susette hesitated, for she was frightened at the idea of undertaking such a commission ; and her mother was unwilling to have her placed m danger. But when Franz declared himself ready to accompany her, the young girl did not see so many terrors in the way. Veit offered no opposition to the going of his son. He was curious above all things, to know whether Fritz had told a true storv or not. So the young pair set off on the way to the mountain Dame Greta first embracing her daughter, and making the sign of the cross upon her forehead. The lovers found the road very pleasant with their conversation. The distance was traversed even too soon, and Susette's heart beat as they came to the Kyffhauser. They sought tho door of rock ; but thongh it was broad moonlight, they could not succeed in finding it. At length Franz pressing the maiden s hand, said to her, "It seems, Susette, that chance has thrown in our way too good an opportunity to make ourselves happy, that we should lose it We love each other I cannot live without you ; yet my father refuses his consent to our marriage, and the priest will not unite us without it. ousette, set down your pitcher and let us fly together. We shall be safe from blame, for everybody will say we were swallowed up in the Kyffhauser. Come, beloved, let us go. You shall be mine, and we will seek our fortune in the great world!" But the fair maiden drew her arm from his, and answered reproachfully, "No, Franz, much as 1 love you, 1 would never do such a thing. YY hat ! leave my mother and break her heart ! and my kind step-father! And could you serve your father thus, stern as he is? No let us be still dutiful and obedient, and God will reward us at last" The young man contieued to entreat, but Susette remained firm ; and put an end to his solicitations, lifted her trembling voice, and called, as she had been directed, on the housekeeper in the watchman's name. For a minute after there was deep silence ; then a distant rumbling was heard, and a hssure, wide enough to admit a person, opened just above them in the mountain. The maiden went boldly into it With her pitcher. Franz was terrified when he saw it close upon her before he had time to follow. In an agony of alarm he could only fall on his knees and pray for her preservation. His distress lasted not long ; belore many moments had elapsed, the fissure was opened again, and the young girl came forth, her face radiant with joy, accompanied by an old woman. "It is to thee, sweet maiden," said the housekeeper, for it was she, "I owe my release. Three hundred years I have waited in vain. I was doomed to serve as a housekeeper in the Kyffhauser till the hour when an innocent maiden, who had withstood sore temptation, should come for wine to the mountain. Mayest thou live happy I and fear not to ask for wine ; though I shall be here no longer, the butler will bring it thee." susette would have asked after the 'emperor Frederic, but the old woman suddenly vanished ; and with an exclamation of surprise, the young lovers set out on their homeward path. All was wonder and delight when they returned to the parlor of the inn. Veit, who was an excellent judge of wine, pronounced it of the best and costliest kind. He applied himself diligently and frequently to the pitcher, with evidence of the pro- lounuesL sausjacuun; uui lor an ine goou cneer, the watchman could not beguile him of a consent to the marriage. He saw the attempt would be frustrated, and not a little disappointed, returned soon after with his wife and daughter, to his own house. As to Veit, he had no other desire than to pro vide himself with abundance of the rare and cost ly wine, Fritz had treated him with. A pitcher he thought quite too small a measure ; so he took an immense empty cask, and on the next night rolled it with considerable labor to the mountain. He then shouted at the top of his voice. Amidst the echoes that resounded ou every side, he fancied he heard the words, "Who is there ?" and instantly replied that he had come lor the wine, in the name ot mm who mended the carriage-wheel. He heard, indeed, a sonorous voice in reply, that seemed to come from the very depths of the Kyffhauser. It said, "Mind my cellar there, boys !" and presently Veit felt himself pinched by invisible hands, and so severely beaten, that he was fain to run homeward with cries of pain, as fast as his legs could carry him. He arrived at the inn out of breath, and in a great rage having been forced, besides getting no wine, to leave his cask behind him. lie dared not think of going back for it, but he Tented bis fury at the disappointment on the head of poor Fritz, who, he was convinced, had played him a trick, and placed temptation in his way with no friendly intent. He swore roundly and louder than ever knowing that he could thus revenge himself that his son should never marry the httie busette. Within the Kyffhauser, a man just awaking from a deep sleep, raised himself slowly, and looked around with an expression of bewildered surprise. This man was no other than Kunz, the first husband of Dame Greta. This was his first awaking from the slumber into which he had fallen after the game of ninepins. As recollection by degrees returned to him, he saw that everything was exactly as when he had fallen asleep. There stood the table ; there sat the knights around it drinking to each other ; and only the old housekeeper was missing. But his own person was somewhat changed. His beard had grown amazingly long ; his hair, also, and he saw that streaks of white mingled with its raven color. Passing his hand over his forehead, he could not help feeling that it was strangely wrinkled. He rose in some embarrassment to ieave the vault Just then one of the servants who waited on the table chanced to pass near. "How long have I been sleeping boy ?" asked Kunz, in a drowsy tone. "Seventeen years," was the reply. "Seven" the herdsman opened his eyes wide but convinced that the fellow was joking with him, turned courteously to one of the knights, and repeated his question. "Seventeen years," answered the knight ; and an old man with long beard, who sat in a recess on one side, seeing the blank astonishment of the poor peasant, said, "it is true, my friend, you have slept seventeen years." Kunz heard no more ; a horror came over him ; he rushed out as quickly as possible, and hastened with all his speed away from the mountains. The fresh air and the sunshine were very pleasant to him, again ; but he was stupified to see how everything was altered. He hardly knew the woods again ; and it seemed as if houses had sprung up by magic. When he came in sight of the village, and saw it grown almost out of his recollection, he began to weep bitterly. "It is too true!" he cried "I have lost seventeen years of my life! And wherefore? Because I must needs, like a fool, search into things I had no business to concern myself about" He met several individuals on the way, and in quired of them if they knew Kunz, the herdsman. .Most ol them answered they knew no such person ; but one old woman said she had formerly known him, but that he had been dead seventeen years. Kunz asked, in choking voice, if his wife was yet living ; the old woman replied she was that she had married Fritz, the watchman and lived in a house which she pointed out It was not Kunz's old home. Not knowing whither to go he bent his steps toward the house occupied by his wife and daughter. He entered, without knocking, the room on the lower floor. The family were seated at table. There sat Dame Greta, much altered, indeed, yet not so much but that he recognized her immediately. Opposite her was Fritz, the watchman, and beside her a blooming girl whom Kunz did not know. They looked up in surprise at the un-announced visitor. Kunz made an effort to control his emotion so far as to ask if they knew him. They shook their heads. Just then the aged, half-blind dog crept out from under the table, and came wagging his tail, and whining with joy, to fawn upon his former master. "Ah ! Hunter, is that you ?" cried Kunz, "you are alive yet, you know your old master ?" Dame Greta, at these words, uttered a half-shriek, and looked at Fritz ; but Susette rose at once, and going to her father, embraced and welcomed him home again. While her mother still stood embar-assed, Kunz pointed to the watchman, and asked : "Is that your husband ?" The dame nodded in reply. "Be not afraid, then," said the herdsman, "I am not come to disturb your happiness ; I know well, 1 have torleited all claim on my wile. 1 shall not remain in the village : it is a melancholy place for me ! I am going forth into the world to seek my own fortune. But I should like first to see my child happily settled." Here Fritz came forward, and informed him of the affair with Veit's son, and how avaricious the old man had shown himself. "Ah!" cried Kunz, "how I wish now. I had brought with me some of the treasure buried in the Kyffhauser ! I might have made my daughter happy !" But he checked himself instantly, knowin" what he had already suffered by seeking to gratify "The knights gave me," said he, "only these two balls, which I brought away in my pocket" But when they looked at the balls, all were not a little astonished to see they were of solid gold. Kunz expressed the greatest joy, as he would now be enabled to give his daughter a handsome portion. The next day he went into the nearest city and sold the two balls, for a sum of money that seemed to him immense. 1 Ins he gave to busette. When Veit heard that the maiden had become rich, he not only consented to the marriage, but himself solicited her hand for his son. Kunz left the village, as he said, not to return. Fritz and Greta lived many years afterwards and were witnesses of the happiness of the fortunate Susette. DOMESTIC EECIPES. Bon, tocr Molasses. When molosses is used in cooking, it is a very great improvement to boil and skim li befo you use it It takes out the raw taste, and makes it almost as good as sugar. Where molasses is used much fur ooot-lng. it is weu to prepare one or two gallons in this way at a time. To Judge of Flour. To judge if flour be pure and good, take a little in the hand, and squeeze it for half a minute ; if good, it can be put out of the hand in a lump, retaining the form given to it by the hand ; if adulterated, it will fall apart as soon as it leaves the hand. Oatmeal Puddixg. Put two pints of milk to a pint of oatmeal, and let it soak all night In the morning, add two well-beaten eggs, and half a tea-spoonful of salt. Pour the mixture into a greased basin, or pudding mould ; tie it securely in a floured cloth, and boil an hour and a half. This pudding is very nice eaten with a bit of cold butter and salt, or a little melted butter or hot dropping. Should any be left cold, it will be found very nice toasted or fried, and rubbed over with a morsel of butter. Eggs. Eggs are light and nutritious, and often useful to invalids, either raw or lightly cooked. They are chiefly mentioned here for the sake of observing that they are much more wholesome cooked out of shell than in. A poached egg boiled, or even fried, will often suit the stomach when one boiled in the shell would be unsuitable. This is worth notice. A raw egg or two beaten up with a little fine sugar and a grating of nutmeg, makes a pleasant and nourishing meal of itself, or with the addition of a little boiled milk stirred to it briskly. Raw eggs, whu u glass oi spring wa,er, are sometimes useful in a cough, and particularly so in jaundice. Two should be taken in the morning fasting, and uiie Lmeu uiues u uay uesiuen. Nice Pancakes for Suiter. These are made of eggs, flour and milk. The just proportions are one tablespoonful of flour to each egg. To make small nancakes. beat a counle of enaa thnrnuirhlv. and add sweet milk. Then take a couple of table- spoonsful of flour, work into a thin paste and ductile batter by adding the milk and eggs, and a little salt Grease the pan with a niece of sweet lard or butter, and stir briskly to prevent adhering to the bottom. When the under side is sufficiently browned, turn it Leave the cakes folded, with sugar or honey, and butter between the folds, or sugar alone. If this be too solid, add more eggs and use less flour. A slight sprinkle of grated nutmeg will be an addition. Maine Farmer. Egg DuMn.iNGS. Make a batter of a pint of milk, two well-beaten eggs, a saltspoonful of salt and flour enough to make a batter as thick as for poundcake; have a clean saucepan of boiling water; let the water boil fast, drop in the batter by the tablespoonful; four or five minutes will boil them. Take them with a skimmer on to a dish, put a bit of butter and pepper over, and serve them with boiled or cold meat For a desert, put butter and grated nutmeg, with syrup or sugar over. .Maine Farmer. A THUS WIFE. She is no .true wife who sustains not her husband in the day of calamity ; who is not, when the world's great frown makes the heart chill with anguish, his guardian angel, growing brighter and more beautiful as misfortunes crowd around his path. Then is the time for a trial of her gentleness then is the time for testing whether the sweetness of her temper beams only .with a transient light, or like the steady glory of the morning star, shines as brightly under the clouds. Has she smiles just as charming ? Does she say, "Affliction cannot touch our purity, and should not quench our love ?" Does she try, by happy little inventions, to lift from his sensitive spirit the burden of thought? There are wives no there are beings who &j)e dibits' Jjorifolio. when dark hours come, fall to repining and upbraiding thus adding to outside anxiety harrowing scenes of domestic strife as if the blame in the world would make one hair white or black, or change the decree gone forth. Such know not that our darkness is heaven's light our trials are but steps in a golden ladder, oy which, if we rightly ascend, we may at last gain that eternal light, and bathe forever in its fulness and beauty. "Is that all ?" and the gentle face of the wife beamed with joy. Her husband had been on the verge of distraction all his earthly possessions were gone, and he feared the result of her know ledge, she had been so tenderly cared for all her life ! But, says Irving's beautiful story, "a friend advised him to give not 6leep to his eyes, nor slumber to his eyelids, until he had unfolded to her his hapless case. And that was her answer, with the smile of an angel "Is that all? I feared by your sadness it was worse. JLet these things be taken all this splendor, let it go ! I care not for it I only care for my husband's love and confidence. You shall forget in my affection that you ever were in prosperity only still love me, aud I will aid you to bear these little reverses with cheerfulness." Still love her ! a man must reverence, aye, and liken her to the very angels, for such a woman is a living revelation of heaven. Hall's Journal of tieaun. General lltistellitnj. THE TENNESSEE GHOST. Seeing in a late Post a notice of the celebrated "Cocklane Ghost," of London, I am reminded of another ghost ol which I have not before thought for years, that made a great noise and created a tre mendous excitement at the tune, it made its appearance in Robertson county, Tenn., some thirty years ago, or upwards, at the house of an old Mr. Bell. Hence I call it the "Tennessee Ghost" or perhaps I had better call it the "Bell Ghost," as it seemed to have visited his house on account of a daughter he had, familiarly called, "Miss Betsey Bell." It was in the form of a voice speaking in different parts of the house. It generally, as ghosts are wont to do, manifested itself only in the night : and, if I am not mistaken, the lights had all to be put out, belore it would speak. It would be heard sometimes in one part of the house, and sometimes in another; moving about from the floor, under the floor, and the walls, to the beds, open space in the midst of the house, the roof, &c. The ghost would converse freely with persons; and such was the excitement it created, that the house was constantly lurungeu wun persons irom an parts oi ine country coming even fifty miles or more to hear it. When asked how long it was going to remain, it would reply, "Until Joshua Gardner and Betsey Bell get married." Now, Mr. Gardner was a very likely young man, who resided in the neighborhood, and with whom the writer of this subsequently be came well acquainted. Such was the number of people who thronged the house, night alter night, that they came near eating old Mr. Bell out of "house and home." But the thing could not last always : the snell of eiiuiammeiii was uesuneu to oe nroken. it turned out that Miss Betsey Bell was a ventriloquist had, from some circumstance, become aware of the possession of such powers had fallen in love with Mr. Gardner, and wished him to many her and had taiien upon tins plan to bring about a matrimonial umon. But Joshua (ardncr and Betsey Bell never married ; and the ghost at length "vanished into thin air," as is generally the end of all ghosts. There are numbers now living, in Robertson county, Tenn., and elsewhere, who heard this ghost, and were well acquainted with the circmstanccs. Saturday Evening Post. DEBT AND INTEREST. Henry Ward Beecher gives some very pertinent advice to young men just commencing life, which is quite as valuable to their elders in all classes of so ciety. Many aching hearts can testify to its ner- fect truthfulness : "I forgot to ask, in the earnestness of my con gratulations, whether the farm is yours ? Whether it is paid for? I hope the deeds are recorded, without mortgage or lien of any kind. I hope no notes are drawing interest. No blister draws sharn- er than interest Of all industrious workers none is comparable to that of interest. It works day and night, in fair and foul weather. It has no sound in its footsteps, but travels fast. It gnaws at a man's substance with invisible teeth. It binds Illdunuv mill ilo Aim giiifp, aa a Iy Ic hnimrl upon a spider's web. Debt rolls a man over and over, binding a man hand and foot, and letting him hang upon the fatal mesh until thelong-legged interest devours him. There is but one thing raised on a farm tike it, and that is the Canada thistle, which swarms new plants every time you break its root, whose blossoms are prolific, and every flower father of a million seeds. Every leaf is an awl, every uraucii a fptar, aim een single- plant is iikc a platoon of bayonets, and a field full of them is like an armed host The whole plant is a torment and a vegetable curse. And yet a farmer had better make his bed of Canada thistles than attempt to lie at ease upon interest." SAGACITY OF SPARROWS. A lady, residing in the New Kent road, England. whose garden is decked all round with a border of turf, desired her gardener to sprinkle it with hayseeds, that the fresh verdure might afford a pleasing contrast to the beautiful flowers soon to put forth. This the gardener having done, under the lady's su perintendence, away he went, and the good lady re-lired to the parlor, in hopeful anticipation of a delightful green border in a few weeks' time. But BoM!ly had she taken her seat at the window, before two or three hopped dow n from a tree, from which no doubt, they had qulotlv watched the proceedings below, and, having tasted a few of the seeds, up again they all flew, and immediately set up a most vociferous chirping, which, translated into English, perhaps meant, "Here, sparrows all ! make haste, make haste, make haste ! quick ! such a lot of fine seed just sown ! the old fellow's gone ; look sharp, all of you !" And, in truth, the invitation to their friends and neighbors was not given in vain. They did make haste, and they did come, all of them, such a quantity of sparrows, to be sure, and they did set to work too, with an avidity which showed how much they relished their plunder. The good lady was so amused with the young rascals throughout the whole affair, she could no more find it in her heart to scare them away, than she could fly with them to a neighboring apple tree after their feast was over. MICROSCOPIC WONDERS. Among the most remarkable of those myriads- of animals which exist in every drop of water, is the uavicula a little creature which has some twenty or thirty legs, and is endowed by Nature with an armor of Hint In a paper which was recently laid before one of the scientific societies of London, some curious facts concerning this diminutive animal were stated. Among other things it was mentioned that if an observer watches it narrowly for five or six hours, he will note a thin transparent line spreading across it in some direction. Alter the line makes its first appearance it becomes every moment more distinct, and rapidly increases in width. At length the creature begins wriggling its limbs violently, the body splits asunder, ana two new navieukc are made out of one old one. The animal has something like a hundred stomachs, and its mouth, which is situated near one extremity, is surrounded by a number of almost invisible tentacula, with which it grasps its food ; but as soon as the transparent line appears, which denotes its approaching division into two, as another mouth will be wanted, another is seen sprouting from the other extremity, and is ready to perform its functions as soon as the separation is effected. The navicula divides itself in two once in twelve hours, under ordinary circumstances. But there are some kinds of navicular which split themselves into sixteen instead of two in the same space of time. Were there no checks to the increase, a single one of the tribe would become the producer of many hundred millions of creatures in a month. Pory'olio. We may eat Pork without fear of the Tape Worm. To the Editor of the New York Daily Times : I this moment perceive a statement cop ied into your paper, that the tape worm grows from a germ contained in swine's flesh that a Jew was never known to have a tape worm, and other facts tending to prove the theory. Now, lest some hypochondriac should be tempted to turn Jew from this statement, and forswear pork, lest a tape worm be added to his other ailments, it may be well enough to apprise your readers, that this worm, or rather these worms, for there are several species of them, is of rare occurrence in this country, notwithstanding we are such universal pork eaters. For twenty-five years, I have been gathering every curiosity within the sphere of my acquaintance, and I have met with a tape worm in but one instance, and that occurred many years since in this town, in a sheep. Whether this sheep had been eating pork I cannot say, but I am pretty sure the old adage is true, that "sheep won't eat mutton." The worm alluded to is preserved in the Museum of the Albany Medical College. Vasilla. The vanilla, so much prized for its delicious flavor, is the product of a vine which grows to the tops of the loftiest trees. Its leaves somewhat resemble those of the grape ; the flowers are red and yellow, and when they fall off, are succeeded by the pods, which grow in clusters like our ordinary beans ; green at first, they change to yellow, and finally to dark brown. To be preserved, they are gathered when yellow, and put in heaps for a few days to ferment They are afterward placed in the sun to dry, flattened by the hand, and carefully nibbed with cocoanut oil, and then packed in dry plantain leaves, so as to confine their powerful aromatic odor. The vanilla bean is the article used to scent chuff, flavor ice creams, jellies, &c. The plant grows in Central America, and other hot countries. Would have the Reason. On Tuesday last, Mr. John Roe prosecuted his shopmate, Robert Lond, for assault and battery. While the complainant was under examination, the following colloquy took place between him and the defendant's counsel : "Did you not call my client here, and defendant, a fool ?" "I did." "Why did you, sir ?" "I decline to answer that question." "Why do you decline to answer it ? I'll appeal to the court to punish you for your contumacy. You ought to be fined for contempt I'll let you know that you can't call my client a fool, without giving your reasons." "I don't know that my reasons have anything to do with the case." "I'll let you know they have. Now, answer the question." "Well, if I must, I must I said I thought he was a fool, because he didn't know better than to hire such a chucklehead as you to defend him." The counsel dropped the witness and let the question of contempt pass. Gum Arabic. In Morocco, about the middle of November, that is, after the rainy season, which begins in July, a gummy juice exudes spontaneously from the trunk and principal branches of the acacia tree. In about fifteen days it thickens in furrows, down which it runs, either in a vermicular or worm shape, or commonly assuming the form of oval and round tears, about the size of a pigeon's egg, of different colors, as they belong to the white or red gum tree. About the middle of December the Moors encamp on the borders of the forest, and the harvest lasts six weeks. The gum is packed in very large sacks of leather, and brought on the backs of bullocks and camels to certain ports, where it is sold to French and English merchants. The gum is highly nutritious. During the whole time of harvest, of the journey, and of the fair, the Moors of the desert live almost entirely upon it ; and experience has proved that six ounces of gum are sufficient for the support of a man twenty-four hours. The Influence of Words. Words are little things, but they strike hard. We wield them so easily, that we are apt to forget their hidden power. Fitly spoken, they fall like the sunshine, the dew, and fertilizing rain but when unfitly, like the frost the hail, and the desolating tempest THE ANGELS IN THE HOUSE. Three pairs of dimpled rma, as white as snow, I If Id me in soft embrace ; Three little cheeks, like velvet peaches soft, Were placed against my face. Three tiny pairs of eyes, so clear, so deep, Looked up in mine this ev'n, Three pairs of lips kissed me a Bweet "good night" Three little forms from Heaven. Ah, it is well that "little ones" should love us j It lights our faith when dim, To know that once our blessed Saviour bade them Bring "little ones" to Him ! And said He not "of such is Heaven," and blessed them, And held them to His breast ! Is it not sweet to know that when they leave us, 'Tis there they go to rest And yet, ye tiny angels of my house, Three hearts encased in mine ! How 'twould be shattered, if the Lord should say, "Those angels are not thine I" THE DEAD.' It is strange what a change is wrought in one hour by death. The moment our friend is gone trom us forever, vim sacH'dness lmests nun : Everything he ever said or did seems to return to us clothed in new significance. A thousand yearnings rise, of tilings we would fyin say to him of questions unanswered, and now unanswerable. All he wore or touched, or looked upon familiarly, becomes sacred as relics. Yesterday these were homely articles, to be tosped to and fro, handled lightly, given away thoughtlessly to-day we touch them softly, our tears drop on them ; death has laid his hand on them, and they have become holy in our eyes. Those are sad hours when one has passed Irom our doors never to return, ana we go hack to set the place in order. There the room, so familiar, the homely belongings of their daily life, each one seems to say to us in its turn, " Neither shall their place know them any more." Clear the shelf now of vials and cups and prescriptions; open the windows ; step no more carefully ; there is no one now to be cared for no one to be nursed no one to be awakened. Ah ! why does this brinsj a secret pang with it when we know that they are where none shall any more say, " I am sick !" Could only one flutter of their immortal garments he visible in such moments could their face, glorious with the light of heaven, once smile on the deserted room, it might be better. One needs to lose friends to understand one's self truly. The deatii of a friend teaches things within that we never knew before. We may have expec ted it, prepared lor it, it may have been hourly expected for weeks , vet when it comes, it tails on us sutldeuly, nd vtvimIs in us emotions we could not dream. The opening of those heavenly gates tor them startles and flutters our souls with strange mysterious thrills, unfelt before. The glimpse of glories, the sweep of voices, all startle and dazzle us, and the soul for many a day aches and longs with untold longings. We divide among ourselves the possessions ot our lost ones. Each well-known thing comes to us with an almost supernatural power. The book we once read with them, the old Bible, the familiar hymn ; then perhaps little pet articles of fancy, made dear to them by some peculiar taste, the picture, the vase! how costly are they now in our eyes. e value them not tor their beauty or worth, but for the frequency with which we have seen them touched or used by them ; and our eye runs over the collection, and perhaps lights most lovingly on the homeliest thing which may have been oftenest touched or worn by them. It is a touching ceremony to divide among a cir cle of friends the memorials of the lost Each one comes inscribed H no more and yet each one, too, is a pledge of reunion. But there are invisible relics of our lost ones more precious than the book, the picture, or the vase. Let us treasure them in our hearts. Let us bind to our hearts the patience which they will never need again ; the fortitude in suli'ering, which belonged only to this suffering state. Let us take from their dying hand that submission under affliction which they shall need no more in a world where affliction is unknown. Let us collect in our thoughts all those cheerful and hopeful sayings which they threw out from time to time as they walked with us, and string them as a rosary to be daily counted over. Let us test our own daily life by what must be their now perfected estimate j and as they once walked with us on earth, let us walk with them in heaven. "We may learn at the grave of our lost ones how to live with the livincf. It is a fearful thing to live so carelessly as we often do with those dearest to us, who may at any moment be gone forever. The life we are living, the words we are now saying, will all be lived over in memory over some future grave. One remarks that the death of a child often makes parents tender and indulgent. Ah, it is a lesson learned of bitter sorrow! If we would know how to measure our work to living friends, let us see how we feel towards the dead. If we have been neglectful, if we have spoken hasty and unkind words, on which death has put his inevitable seal, what an anguish is that ! But our living friends may, ere we know, pass from us t we may be to-day talking with those whose names to-morrow are to be written among the dead; the familiar household object of to-uay may become sacred relics to-morrow, i-ei us walk softly ; let us forbear and love ; none ever repented of too much love to a departed friend ; none ever regretted too much tenderness and indulgence, but many a tear has been shea ior too mucn narsn-ness and severity. Let our friends in heaven then teach us how to treat our friends on earth. Thus by no vain fruitless sorrow, but by a deeper self-knowledge, a tenderer and more sacred estimate of life, may our heavenly friends prove to us ministering spirits. The triumphant apostle says to the Christian, M All things are yours Life and Death." Let us not lose either) let us make ueatn our own; in a richer, deeper, and more solemn earnestness of life. So those souls which have gone from our ark and seemed lost over the gloomy ocean of the unknown, shall return to us, bearing the olive-leaves of Fara-dia. .Vr. H. B. Stove, in A. Y. Independent THE WORTH OF A CHARACTER. "Where is John crying ?" asked John's father, Btepping out of the garden door to learn what the matter was. "I can't come down,". said a piteous voice from the top of the cherry-tree. "Climb down as you elimbed up," said the little boy's father in an encouraging tone, supposing the child was a Hmb or two higher than he wished to be. "I can't ever come down, father," persisted the little boy, sobbing. "Don't be afraid," said his father, "I will climb up and take you down." "0," said the child, choking, "I can't come down, for I told Lewis I would not come down till I saw the sun set." It was Rome time before his father could satisfy him that it was right to come down j and this little story shows what a conscientious child John was. Truthfulness was a strong rope in his character. John grew to thirteen or fourteen years. He was small of his age, and very quiet in his manners. His brothers would do more laughing and talking in one hour than he would do in three, and on first acquaintance they usually shared more of the attention of strangers ; but although he made so little display, John's character made a strong impression upon those who knew him. About this time a wealthy merchant, a friend of the family, made frequent stays at the house, sometimes weeks, sometimes months, for he was in ill health, and wanted the benefit of the sea air. He, in his silent sort of way, took much notice of the children, but they did not know it. John hoes the corn, weeds the carrot-bed, or digs up some new potatoes for dinner : and when his work is done, he takes his garden-tools and puts them carefully away in their right places in the wood-house : the other boys are likely to leave them anywhere. The gentleman minds that When John takes the wheelbarrow and goes down in town to fetch home a bushel of corn, a can of oil, or half a dozen salt fish, he carries each article where it properly belongs, and takes the wheelbarrow to the wood-house. Nobody tells him to do it ; it is his way not only to have a place for every thing, hut to put every thing in its place. In winter there is famous skating on the creek ; and after j chool, the boys flock there in great numbers. John goes home first, does up his work about home, if he has any to do, and then sits down to his lesson. "What, study all the time?" O, no; he is very fond of skating, but the algebra lesson has got to be learned first He sits down, gives his mind to it, and masters it: he will master it. and as you may suppose, he is one of the best scholars in his class. Alter the lesson is learned, he takes his skates, and supper also, and nobody enjoys moonlight seating on the creek better than he. A part of John's work in the cold weather is to make three fires in his father's schoolrooms, and in order to have the rooms warmed in-season, he has to rise before daylight in cold winter mornings to go and make them ; but the nieht before, he prepares and arranges his matches, shavings and kindling-wood, so as to lose no time, and have no trouble in lighting his fires in the morning. More than that, to show you his habits of forethought, in the summer when there is more building going on, and shavings are plenty, he fills his barrels with shavings, to he m readiness tor winter use. Like the bee, he lays up his winter store for the time of need. His father does not tell him to do this, and follow him up till it is done, John thinks of it himself; it is his way. "That boy will be a business man," said the merchant to his mother. I am sure his mother took great comfort in him as a business boy, for he could always be relied upon. But it was time to agitate in the family counsels the question what to do with John; his teacher spoke lor him to prepare tor college. "He must be educated" said his "teacher; "he will shine as a scholar ; don't fail to send that boy to college." But another person has also spoken for him. A letter came from the merchant, offering to take John into his large wholesale store, and do for him in all respects as for a son. "0, 1 want that boy," says the merchant, And'thus you see his father is not likely to be in trouble about getting a place for him, as the fathers of shiftless, untrusty, irresponsible boys so often are. And why ? I want every boy to mark the reason : he-cause, as the Bible says, "Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right." Child's Paper. Written Examinations. Frequent written reviews are among the most successful means that teachers can employ for securing thoroughness and distinctly on the blackboard, and the pupils arc re quired to expand them as fully and accurately as ! possible. Each pupil is seated by himsejf, and fur-' nished with pens and paper; but receives no assis tance, direct or indirect, Irom either teacher or text-book. This mode of examining a class accomplishes at least three important objects at the same time. It ailords a thorough test ot W pumls knowledge of the subject; it is one of the best methods of cultivating freedom and accuracy in the use of language ; and it furnishes a valuable discipline to the pupil's mind, by throwing him entirely on his own resources. The task of examining so many separate written exercises, and of estimating their value, increases the labor of the teacher, hut the gain to the pupil is more than an equivalent for the extra service required. Mass, 1 eacner. Congregational Singing. 1XQE"EST!OXABLY the best and most nseful Hymn and i Tune Book vet published for the use of Lectures, Prayer and Conference Meetings, Social Worship and Congregational lugmg, is TEMPLE MELODIES. This work contains five hundred Hymns and two hundred Tunes. It has been pronounced the best collection of sacred lyrical poetry ever issued, and undoubtedly embraces a larger numner Ol ine reany lavoriie nines aireatiy useu inrougnom ine length and breadth of the land than any other similar work. It Has also tne auvamagefoi ueing lumisneu ai a very low price, thus bringing it witntn tne means oi almost an congregations. Tempi.r Melodies is already in very evtf nv c, and ia con stantly being more widely introduced. Letters from many clergymen sneaKinz in iuk uihi inuum no un, u the ha tubs of the publishers. We earnestly invite the attention of fllenmnen. and all others who are interested in securing a general participation in the singing exercises of Divine Wor ship, to una wont. To meet the wants of all, two editions of Tsufu MlLOStES are published one in large, and the other in small type. In other respects, these editions are, page for page, precisely alike, so that they can be used together in the same congregation. The prices are as follows : 12mo Edition, (small type,) cloth binding, perdoz $5,00 The same, in leather binding, por doe 6,00 8vo. Edition (large tyne,)clo?h binding, per doz... 7,00 The same, in leather binding, per dux 8,00 Single copies sent for examination, on receipt of 50 cents. Tempu Melodies is published by MASON BROTHERS, Jan. 12, 1856. 3.v New York. Fish Guano. T'HE Narragansett Manufacturing Company, of Providence, R. I., are now orenared to execute orders for their Fish Gu ano. They have prepared their Guano after two methods. One by chemically treating, cooking and then drying and grinding the fish to a powder. This is put in bags and sold at $45 per ton. The other variety is prepared as above (with the exception of drying and grinding :) and is then combined with an ah sorbent which is fn itself a valuable fertilizer, and sold at $2 per bbl. containing about 200 lbs. This compost is of great strength, and must be a vry efficient fertilizer, as it is composed in irreat Dart of simple flesh and bones of fish. Dr. Charles T. Jack son, of Boaton, has mad an analysis of me rowuer, ana says i "It is similar to Peruvian Guano in composition, wiVh the exception that the ammonia) matter is dried flesh, of fish, and not yet putrefied, so as to be aramortiacal. It will, however, produce ammonia by decomposition In the soil. One hundred giainsof this manure, dried and finely pulverized, was submitted to analysis, with the following result : ANALYSIS. Ammonial matter (flesh of fish) . 48.00 rho?pliate of Lime 33.00 Carbonate of Lime... 7.60 Sulphate of Lime 6.40 Potash of Soda ..4.10 100.00 Respectfully your obedient servant, CHARLES. T.JACKSON, Assayer to the State of Massachusetts." Dr. Jackson's opinion of our Guano is expressed In the following note : Boston, March9, 1855. 8. B. Hallidat, Esq. : Dear Sir, In reply to your letter, I would state my entire confidence in the superiority of a properly prepared artificial guano, made from fl.-hes, over that of the natural guano of birds, obtained from the coast of Peru. It Is obvious that more of the nltro-geneous, or ammonia producing substances, exist in fih prepared after your method, than are found in any guano, and hence the artificial preparation will go further in the fertilization of a soil. The amraoniacal salts act chiefly in bringing the foliage In to a healthy and luxuriant condition, and thus causes the plant to absorb more of the phosphate and other necessary salts and substances from the soil, and more carbonic acid from the air. The carbonate of ammonia, also, is a solvent for humus, and It quickly saturates any injurious acid salts that may exist in the soil, and forms from some of them valuable fertilisers. Respectfully, your obedient servant, C. T. JACKSON, M. D., State Assayer, c. i This manure is offered to agriculturists with the assurance of Its becoming one of the most popular to be obtained. The Company are ready to establish agencies at such places as are desirable for the convenience of farmers. As the supply for the season fa rather limited, the Comiany would esteem it a favor to have orders forwarded early to enable them to lay down at their agencies the requisite quantities in proper time for use. Orders may be addressed to the Company at Providence, or to Messrs. RUGiLES, NOl'RSE, MASON h CO., PARKER, WHITE k GANNETT and HENRY RICE k CO., Boston, Mats. 8. B. BAI.LIDAY, Agent, 32 West Water Street, Providence, R. I. - Providence, R. I., January 6, lSAS, Ana Ice Plows and Tools. THE subscribers have been appointed agents for the exclusive sale of Brown's celebrated Ice Tools in this city, consisting of Plows, Markers, Saws, Bars, Chisels, Hooks arid Tonga. These Tools are made In the very best manner, and are war ranted of a superior quality all of which will be bold at tha.1 manufacturers lowest prices. NOI KSK ft CO. Boston, Dec 29, 1855. 6w No. 9 ft 18 Commercial St. Bound Volumes. BACK YOLTJMES of the HEW ENGLAND f ARM BR, sjs gaotly boond la Hatha, Gilt and Km bussed, an now far sal U Ifali office. Vanable Farm for Sale, IN WALTHAM. A very desirable milk or vegetable Farm, rita-atcd In the northwest part of the town, about three miles from the village, and known as the "Maynard Farm," containing 114 acrei of land, 20 of which are covered with a thrifty rrowth of noud. A larfre part or the land is level, free irom stones and very easy to cultivate, and superior for the production of Grass Grain or Vegetables. There is on the place, a good Cranberry Meadow and a choice supply of prafted Fruit. The buildings are a large Dwelling-House, a Barn 76 by 40, with a cellar under one-half f it, and other convenient out-builiiinpa. Terms liberal. For further information, apply to GEO. DANIELS, Newton Corner. Waltham, Nov. 10, 1855. For Sale, The two adjoining farms lying on Welllngtci Hill, in West Cambridyte and Waltham, om sides of the Concord Turnpike, known as the Highland and Perry Farma, lately the property of James Brown, Eq., deceased, and containing On these farms is an orchard of about 500 apple trees, in full bearing ; and about 1300 thrifty young apple, quince and cherry trees. The Perry farm is well watered, excellent for grass, and has for many years been used as a dairy farm. The prospect from the hill is unrivalled in the ricinity of Boston ; and the Wellington Hill station of the Fitchburg Railroad is in the immediate vicinity of the land. The whole land may be divided into three good farms. There is a dwelling-house and barn on each farm. Mr. Harston, on the premises, will show the farms to those who desire to see thorn. Also, seventeen acres of very productive land, on the plain, near the station, with a cottage house on the same. Apply to F. E. PACKER, Xo. 30 Court Street, Boston Nov. 24, 1855. 4m Farm for Sale in Beverk. lun A tmall farm of about twelve acres, situated in K NOB TH BEVERLY, on the great road leading Sill k;isl frou Ipswich to Boston, 1J miles from North j 1 1 fi M4H Danvers village, and in the immediate vicinity of i i IcJ the celebrated Barley and Cherry Hill farms. The house is large, well built and in good repair, being very convenient for two families. The barn if : by 28 feet,with a good cellar, also a good wood-shed and wajtun-house. The land is of superior quality, and is suitable for both early and late vegetables. There is a good assortment of apples, pears, cherries, quinces, ic, also a well of never-failing good soft water. The premises are situated In an excellent neighborhood The I'pper Beverly, North Danvers and Danversport depots, be iop about 1J miles equidistant. For further particulars, inquire of R. P. Waters, Esq., North Beverly, or of the subscriber on the premises. JOSIAH TRASS. North Beverly, Dec. 29, 1855. 6w Farm for Sale, Situated in Westboro', one mile north of the centre, on the main road leading from Westboro to Northboro', containing 100 acres of choice land in a high state of cultivation. There is a large sunoly of fruit, including Peach. Pear. Plum. Quince, Cherry, kc, with a large number of Apple trees in a young, thrifty and bearing conditon. Said Farm is about equally divided by the main road, and is suitable for two farms; with a large two-story house on the westerly side, in thorough repair, and a large two-story house, nearly new, modern style, on the easterly side, a large barn, granary, and other out-buildings. Both houses are supplied with never-failing wells of good water, and are conveniently and pleasantly located. The above is one of the most desirable farms in this vicinity, and will be sold in one or two farms to suit purchasers. For further particulars inquire of JOSEPH HARRINGTON, No. 161 Milk Street, Boston, or of the Bubscrilters on the premises. NAHCM FISHER. Nov. 17. tf S. D. FISHER. Farm in North Beverly for Sale. The subscriber offers for sale his farm, Bituated but a short distance from the North Beverly Depot, on the Eastern Railroad, containing about 40 acres of good land easy of cultivation, 4 of which are covered with the best varieties of apples, 3 acres of the same being in the very hiirhest state of cultivation. There in, also, a beautiful grove of oak, walnut and maple, containing about ten acres, which is in much demand for picnic parties. The house is 40 by 30 feet, and contains 16 rooms, and was built and furnished with the best materials, and in quite a modern style, and cellar good. The barn is 60 by 40, with a cellar uniU-r the whole, and is said to be the best one of its size in the State. There is also, a good carriage, wood, wash and hen-house. These buildings have been put up about five years, and originally cost S'jOO more than the whole can now be obtained for, the present owner beinj? about to change his business. For further particulars, inquire of J. G. Russell, head of Brattle Street, Boston, or of the advertiser on the premises. North Beverly, Dec. 39, 1855. 6w JOHN G. RANSOM. A Valuable Milk Farm for Sale. The subscriber being under the necessity of changing his business on account of his health, will sell liis valuable farm at auction (if not previously disposed of) on Wednesday, the thirteenth day of Februarv next, at one o'clock, P. M. Said Fiirm, well known as the Daniel Fay farm, contains 153 acres of good land pleasantly located upon the great road leading Trom Westboro' to Grafton, two miles from three churches and the Boston and Worcester Railroad Depot. It is well watered, and fenced with stone walls, nearly new, is well stocked with nood fruit trees, and is amply proided with wood and timber for home consumption, and a quantity for market. The buildings consist of a large, valuable two-story dwelling-house, so constructed as to be convenient for one or two families, wood-house and granary, and carriage-house, the barns having been recently consumed by fire ; aud is within a few rods of a district school, and a public High School is kept in the place. The farm will be 6oId together or in lots, as may best suit purchasers. Conditions easy. For particulars, inquire of W. B. Chamberlain, Esq., of Boston, J. A. Payer weathrr, Esq. and Dea. E. T. Forbes, of Westboro, or of the subscriber on the premises. J. W. FORBES. Westboro', Dec. 29, 1855.. 7w Farm for Sale. A small farm situated in the westertr part of MAKI,BOBorH, on tne old county road from Worcester to Boiton,cnntainlng ten acres of moat excellent land, suitably divided into mowing, tillage and pasturing, and on which are a very choice lot of Apple, Peach, and Cherry Trees, and two good wells of never-failing water ; together with a convenient two-story dwelling house, containing five rooms on the lower floor, and three chambers, together with a back room and wood-shed adjoining ; also, a barn 32 by 25 feet ; also, a new shoe-shop, all of which are in good repair. The above is a very desirable place for a mechanic, or a person retiring from business, and will be sold on very reasonable terms, and a part of the pur chase money can remain for the present if desired. Should the purchaser wi-h for more land, it can be had adjorni g the premises on reasonable terms. TIM01HY JOhES. Jan. o, 18i6. tf Farm for Sale. nrymn -A trn farm for sale situated in Stow, with a good -BgTW supply of grafted fruit on the same, containing 21 TgififliVn acres of land divided into Mowing, Tillage and IgggWj Woodland, and 2 acres of reclaimed meadow. Pr r" i' 1 1 Said Farm is in a good neighborhood, on the public road from Waltham to Lancaster, within milea of four railroad depots. Said Farm was occupied for fifty years by the Rev J-.ua. Newell, late of Stow. The above would be a pleasant situation for any one who would like to reside In the country There ia on said Farma good cottage house with nine rooms. Barn 60 by :ld fet. with cellar under the same, with all convenient ou unildititf for a farm ; two good wells of water on the same ; one-iut irtnle irom the centre of the town, High School, Post office, and iiore. Fences good. Popsession may be bad the first of April next. Apply to DANIEL R. NEWELL, on the premises. P. S. There is an orchard of 5J acres more, can be bad if wished for. Stow, Jan. 12, 1856. 3w- Light! Light! Light! ECONOMY 13 WEALTH! THE Subscribers will forward to any one sending as 23 cents, in money or postage stamps, a recipe for making the Celebrated Vegetable Oil Mixture for burning in Lamps, Chandeliers, kc This article is superior to any oil. gas or fluid ever before invented, for the following reasons : let, It gives more light. 2d, The lieht is brighter and stronger. 3d, It will not explode if brought in contact with the blaze, thus rendering it perfectly safe. 4th, There is nu trouble in making it, and it dues not cost over half as much as common fluid, and can be used ia the same lamps, and is better in every respect. Enclose 2o cents and address J. W. BLISS fc Co., Westboro1, Mass., and the recipe will be sent by return of mail, tec. 22. 1855. 6w Muriate of Lime, A Superior Fertilizer, and destroyer of Canker Worms. THIS ARTICLE has been composted to take the place of the more costly manures, Guano, &c, to which it is said to be fully equal, by those who have tested it during the last two tea-sons, and it can be afforded at about one-fifth of the cost. It effect on grass lands and cereal plants is especially apparent, supplying the chief constituents of the plants, phosphates, si-lex, ic. Its qualities, as a destroyer of the Canker Worm, which has committed such ravage iifnnour fruit trees the 'past season, of Grubs and other worm", which oftentimes render the labor of the farmer of no avail, have bt en fully and soccessfully proved. Testimonials in support of the above assertions can be seen at my office, No. TOStat-- S-rcct, where I offer for sale, 600 bbls. Muriate of Lime. 500 bbls. Oyster Shell Lime. 800 bbls. Eastport Piaster, of 500 lbs. each. 100 casks Eastport Plaster of 334 lbs. each. Jan. 6, 1866. tf JAMES GOULD. Middlesex, bs. To the heirs at Law and others Interested In the estate of JOS HI' A BROWN, late of Concord, in said County, yeoman, deceased, greeting. WHEREAS aoerltain instrument purporting to be the last will and testament of aij deceased, has been presented to me for Probate, by JO.SKPH i. BKOWN, the Executor therein named, you are hereby cited to appear at a Court of Probate to be hnlden at Concord, in said County, on the second Tuesday of February next to show cause if any yoa have, either for or against the same. And the said Executor is or- dered to serve this Citation by giving personal notice thereof to all persotis interested in said estate, living within this State, three days, at least, previous thereto, and, by publication hereof In the New England Farmer, printed in Boston, three weeka successively, the last publication to be three days at least before said Court. Dated at Cambridge this eleventh day of January, A.D. 1856. S. P. P. FAY, J. Probate. Jan. 19, 1856. Sw NEW ENGLAND FARMER: AN INDEPENDENT JOURNAL, DXVOTKD 10 Agriculture and General Intelligence. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, Br Joel NotwsE, at Quinct Hall, South Mae-ket Stheet, Boston. ttT Terms, 2,00 per annum In advance ; when payment Is delayed an unreasonable length of time, 82,50 will be charged- ao suueonpuon reoeivea ior a teas term wan six uouuia. $ZT The KEIF ENGLAND FARMER, Monthly, Is also published at the same office, on the first of every month, In book-form, devoted erefwirey to Agriculture, Horticulture, and their kindred arts and sciences; making a neat volume of 570 octavo pages, embellished with numerous engravings. Terms, 1 per annum in advance. All subscribers to commence with the volume, January 1. jr The Monthly Farmer contains nearly the same matter U the agricultural department of the weekly. fry- All papers will be forwarded until an explicit order for discontinuance is received ; and whether taken by the subecri-ber or not from the place where they are ordered to be sent, ha will be held accountable until be orders a discontinuance, and pays up all arrearages. flT "ben subscribers wish to change the direction of their papers, or when they return a copy to this office, they will please to be particular to name the Post Office, and State, to which It has been sent, as well as the one to which they wish It directed : as it often happens that two or more of our subscribers are of the same name, and annoying mistakes hare occurred ta ooa-tequence. Postmasters and ethers who will forward four new sua cribe rs on the above-named terms, for either publication, saa receive a fifth eopy gratis for one year. 93 All letters aDd communications should bs addressed (pt) paid) to Jon Novue, Qulncy Hall. Boston.
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