Ontario Community Newspapers

York Herald, 11 May 1860, p. 1

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

.i*»»‘."3-i’”{i.‘1?::"ie hind 3' ‘ . . nzs. â€" a " ~ ‘? " r A ’i “harlot. that it will own digest Stoneâ€"4138. in short. to be preserved with . spe ,cral care from contact with what- iever is unwholesomc.â€"-flll the Year Round. M BEAUTIFUL srnrno, It’ll-ere lust thou been, my beautiful spring 7 To the sultry south, on the swallow’s wing ; Kissingthc little kidnapped slave, Er. bornvaway on the deep blue wave ; Brushing the tear from the mother’s cheek Al'iho‘wept for her child at Mozambique? ‘ Else. whe’n’cb ‘ [comost thou with this potent 1 charm. Chaining the winds to the frigid zone, 'Making the breast of Nature warm, And stilling old winter’s undertone I REV. MI}. CAMI‘BELL’S ’I‘lTltIC ON (i-I‘IOLOGY. Communicated. LEC« i l f This was the first purely scientific lec- /W l tui‘e We have listened to during the) pre- sent course, and certainly one of the most interesting and profitable, that it has'been AURORA AND RIC-HOND HILL ADVOCATE AND «1 VW V‘v WM“ ADVERTISER. W, s, , TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. \. V AL EX. SCOTT, Proprietor. / M J NW N‘W’W\,/‘\/‘ M \ ,~ r- '\.’ ~ “ Let Sound Reason umig/z more with us than Popular Opinion.” 'Wimie an. ac. our good fortune to have heard for a long Whore hast thou been. my beautiful spring 7 i “m”. Away gwith the honey-bee wandering, Sipping the nectar of famed Cashmere, Vol. II. No. 24. RICHMOND HILL, FRIDAY, IVIAY 11, [860. Mr. Campbell in an eminent degree, v ‘ 3 tion. 0 'master.’ Sporting amid the Turk’s parterro ; Quitting warm Araby’s balmy breeze, And spicy scents of the Coylouese 7 Else whence comest then with thy odorous . breath. Chafing the cheek to a rosy bloom, Ilnd scattering the poisonous air of read] 3 By flinging abroad a rich perfume ? Where hast thou been. my beautiful spring? Up, 'mid Heaven's music rovelling ? Yet the tones of thy song from the greenwood bush, The lurk in the sky and the mountain thrush, Speaks as it'it were given to thee To list to seraphic miustrelsy. nymthere thou hast been. NotsunnyFrant‘e, With 3 low body and short sleeves, 0r old Italia’s land of song Can furnish snclr notes for the poet’s dance, tongue. “Home has thou been, my beautiful spring.-o I’lucking rich plumes from .tlie parroquet’s Wing, Rubbing the clouds of their rainbow crest. Bathing thyselt'in the glo ions \Vcsl. Robiug thy form in the peacock’s hues, And gathering pearls from the orient dews? .Else. whence comost thou. with this proud array ()t' beauties to sprinkle the rnsset wood, Those Lent lillics bending as if to pray. And liyncinihs fringing the merge of the flood I And tell me whence cometli nry beautifn‘ spring Each star of the earth, each odorons thing. These. butter-cups gleaming like summer-lit skies. These violets adorned with rich pnrlc and blue, These priinroses fragrant and innocent too ; And lastly. the uwcetest and richest. I ween, Of all thy fair danghters.rm‘ beautiful spring, The budding that stud all thy pathways with green. Say. wherewere they gathered to shake from thy wing? lithium. r:;:.._....__. . .-. -_'_ *m THE SIGNAL LIGHTS. BY THE AUTHOR OF " ASHLEY. l. Continued. If they wanted to warn me of that, they should have swung the red. Any way, I’d rather have given my own life, than it should have llzlp~ pencd when I was driver.’ Killing the time in the way they could, they got buck to the station a few minutes before the train was cchctcd. The accident was the topic ofconvcrsntirm there. ‘I have seen the driver.’ remarked Mr. Lakc ‘ I know him well. a sober, steady man. He says the red signal was not exhibited; that it Was the grccn.’ ‘ Oh, hc docs,’ returned the station ‘ He had better prove it. Of course when they are at their 'wits’ cud for an excuse, they in- VCnt anything, probable or improb- able. ' Cooper is not a man to invent. I am sure he is truthful. ‘Lct him wait till the inquest,’ was the significant reply. The train came in. Oliver made hisappcarancc from somewhere, and they were taken on to Guild. There they found Elizabeth; she had no money in her pocket, and was sitting waiting for them, like Patience on a monument, unable to leave the staâ€" There Was a good deal of laughter, and they proceeded to Mrs. "Chester’s ten minutes’ walk. That lady came to the door to receive. them very cross. You disagreeable, tiresome things, ,What in the world brings you here :atthis time 'l You know we were to have dined at three o’clock and taken adesert and tea upon the lawn. ~l have'bceri obliged to order the din- :5 ‘ner put back.’ .‘ It wastlie train's fault,’ answered » Mr. Lake; ‘ it deposited us half way, and left us.’ ‘Of course you must put in your nonsense, Fred. or it wouldn’t be you,’ rctorted Mrs. Chester.â€"‘Come ’ along With me girls, and take your things off. Dinner will be on the table in twenty minutes.’ ‘Hcre, Penelope. Wait a moment,’ ‘Cried her brother, drawing her back as She was approaching the staircase; ~ ‘ is Lydia Clapperton here to-day l’ , si- e. a. - - lung ~"Yes. Why?’ {Where is she ?’ I‘In the garden,l think; or else with the children. VVnat do you want with her I’ ‘ Only to get the start of Oliver; he has stopped in the village to lay in cigars or something of the sort,’ bed Mr- Lake, as he turned back to the garden. He says she’s a nice Guild farmâ€"as the place Was cal- lcd, having been a farm in days gone byâ€"-â€"was a pleasant spot, the house good, and standing jet chain on her neck, and jet brace- As the melody poured from thy musical lets. Shelind very decided features, 9, l ‘ No, sir, not from thogrecn lamp. journey from town on an elephantl l undone for you: it’s giving you trouble.’ She answered gaily, ‘ \Vhy, what do you know about netting l’ ‘A great deal. fishing net once. Those long stitches are the very plague.’ ‘ A fishing-net 1’ she laughed. ‘ Well perhaps you did, but what do you think you could do to this fine silk; you, with your man’s fingers?‘ ‘I can try, so as to save the trou- ble to you.’ He bent down as he spoke, and attempted gently to draw the work from her; she kept it tight. It really looked as though they had no objection, either of them, to lapse into a flirtation when at the moment a voice was heard. and Mr. Lake looked up. Passing from the shrub- bery on to the lawn, was Oliver Jupp, with a young lady by his side. She turned her head and stood, called out to Mrs. Chester’s children be- hind, so that Mr. Lake had a view of her face. ‘ Who the ducc has he picked up nowP what a pretty girl i” thought ire. ‘ Do you know who that is ’l’ he (:i icd to his companion, ‘the young lady with Oliver Jupp'l’ She took her netting off her foot, and advanced to look at the door. ‘ It is a Mi>sâ€"â€"-Missâ€"-What was the name ? Mrs. Chester introduced herâ€"Lydiasomethingâ€"Clappcrton. I tlliirk.’ He started in surprise. ‘ T/iat Lydia Claippcitonl why then who are you 1’ ‘1? Oh, I am the Indian bcgum. But I didn’t come on an elephant.’ I'lis pulse stood still for a moment. But he thought she was playing a joke upon him. .‘ You are notâ€" you cannot beâ€" Lady Ellis l' ‘I am, indeed. Colonel Sir George Ellis, K.C.B.’ Never in all his life h .d Frederick Lnkc been so taken in, newer had he felt more thoroughly confused and ashamed. The hot crimson mount- ed to his temples. ‘l humbly beg your pardon Lady Ellis. be said, standing before her, as sliuiricfaccd in the midst of an excellent garden. It was let cheaply, for the farmer who rented the land not another house. did not want it. Frederick Lake went peer- ing about in search of Lydia Clap- perton, down shrubberics, behind trees. At last he came too summer house, and through the entrance be discerned a young lady sittingâ€"â€" "There she is l’ he exclaimed. She looked four or five and twenty but her dress would make her look A rich younger. black Silk dress edged by a sachc of white crepe, a inclined to be acquilinc, and thin, compressed lips; hcr'eycs, by many, would have been called beautiful; they \Vcr'c intensely block, and llttd a somewhat bold expression. Her hair was beautifulâ€"n smooth, pur- plo black very luxnrant, and worn in a profusion of braids, or plats. ‘ A fine girl,’ thought Mr. Lake. "l‘hcrc she he eitcluimed aloud, in his fl'L‘L: and somewhat saucy iiiziirncrâ€"-:r manner that worr'ien like~iis he entered and unceremoni- ously held out his hand. She rose, droppcd some fancy work, netting, that she was busy upon. and put out hers. as if sur- prised into the rnt'ivcn'iCirt. Mr. Luke took it, and she looked up at him; a gov, fascinating man, gcr'itlcmnniy in the midstof his freedom. ‘1 told Mrs. (Jhcsicr, I should come and find you. I had the pleasure of sec- mg your sister, so We need not wait for it!) introduction. \‘Vc have kept her waiting pi'ctty \vcll to-day, have we. not I’ ‘b‘lic has been wondering over, the rain-arrival of her friends.’ re- plied [to young lady as she resumed her netting. ‘And firming over it to.’ laughed Mr. Luke. ‘ We had an adventure and the train left us midway. Dc- lnyrng your dinner hour is the worst. ‘Oh, that is nothingl am glad you love more at last. I think nothing is mm‘c Pleasant than u as any convicted schoolbov. ‘Icnu- country house filled with visitors.’ not cxoect you to accord it to me, ' V’Vhou they can do as they like.’ bntI most sincerely beg it.’ added Mr. Luke. ‘\Vc are to 2’C- ‘I think I must give it to you,’ main rill \Vcdncsday, I be.icvc, and she :iiisivcrcd in a pretty, tantalising must make the most of it. I hope mam-mix ‘ Your oflimcv- was not you will stay also. After that then!” against me but against some fabled be a restraint} monster of your inmgnaiion. You The young lady paused in her nct- shall sketch her still, after dinner.’ ring and lifted her eyes. ‘ What Ilc hold out his hand with hesita- rcstrnint ?’ she said, after a pause tion. ‘Will you seal your pardon 'l ‘Mrs. Chester has sold her liberty and will you promise to forget as to an old Indian begun]. Haven’t I well as to forgivc’l you heard of it? She is coming forch or forgive myself.’ hero to take possession, and we must. b‘hc frankly put her hand into his. all be upon our good bchuvonr before " l have forgiven; I will promise to her. No fun to go on then. forget; but then, you know you ‘Au Indian bcguui l’ uttered the must riot convert me into a night- young lady, s nring at him. 'm irc,’ ‘ Nothingr less formidable, I assure ‘ YOU 11 night-mare !’ he impul- vou. She is expected to make thciSlVCl)’ relUl‘llCd- ‘ ll. 5'0“ “"6. ll ' 'will be one of a different sort,’ he gallantly added, as he placed her hand within his arm to conduct her to the house. ‘ What did you think of me? Did you take me for a Wild animal just arrived from the savage islan-t ?’ is l’ Ishnll draw it sketch of her. after dinner, for private circulation; shawls, fairs, wolly hair, and pro- priety.-â€"-â€"- She’s an old widow, relic of Sir. George Ellis: we must not as much 1 ‘ . i . _ as speak before her.’ ‘30, Siltd Lady Llhs, ‘that is The young lady laughed, when you took the begunr for. I . Mrs. Chester has laid down found you were under a mistake :1 rules for our conduct,’ he went on 500” as 3’9? spoke 0f "’3’ 5mg”; 1 rattling. ‘ The last time I was there, 17m“: “0 5W”; I only got “8’0 a” she saw me snawh a kiss from a row ago, in nine to dress for dinner. pretty girl, and last week she came hm"? laéellislajgl‘lg all, (J‘lfllcnllilm. over to my house to lecture me, and ’0’ “IO 43’" fi f” wl‘dl-flzomll flu" inquired what I supposed my Lady intention or slung ierc . , am Ems would mink of such conduct. sorry that I should frustrate it. You have no conception what a He hit his lip; he could not con- nightmare this old begum is to me.’ Coal his annoyance. ‘ I thought you 2 Really I don't wonder. Shawls, promised to forget,’ he softly whis- fans, wooly hair, and an elephant! pared. Old and uglyâ€"did you say ugly 1’ He left her down stairs and ran ‘ As ifa begum could be anything up to his wife, who was alone in the else; Not her ugliness or beauty chamber assigned to them. ‘ Fred. could affect me: but her interferinglerick, how hot you look !’ she ex- with the liberty of a fellowâ€"that claimed, as he entered: your cheeks does it.’ are crimson.’ ‘ ‘ Bubâ€"according to your version ‘ My brain is crimson also. l think,’ â€"-â€"-it is Mrs. Chester who seems to he replied, bending his eyes upon be interferring: not the begum.’ her. ‘ What do you think ’lâ€"Lady ‘Oh, it’s all the same: excepting Ellis is herc.’ that. for Mrs. Chester we should ‘Mrs. Chester told us so. She not care, and for the bcgum, I sup- had a note from her this morping, pose we must. I did think of get- and she herself arrived at. two ting a few days fishing here, this o’clock. hot weather but it’s over now. I Clara, I called her the bogum to shall never stand that hegumâ€"iwirl- her face ! ing one’s thumbs before her, speak- ‘ Frederick !’ ing in measured monosyllables.’ ‘I don’t know what else I didn’t The young lady bent over her call her: old and ugly, and a night- nctting; she had made a long stitch. mare: and said she was coming on ‘Mrs. Chester seemsto wish to keep an elephant. I took her for that you in order,’ she remarked, with- Lydia Clapperton.’ out looking up. Mrs. Lake’s face turned as red as ' She just does: we listen to her her husband’s had done in the sum- prettydutifully,and whcngzher back’s mcr-house: she was of a refined. turned. how: a good laugh over it. deeply-sensitive temperament, ever Allow me to try and get that knot 1 considerate of the feclir‘igs of others. l netted a boy’s' I shall iievcr‘,srni|ed. ia young girl, and I did not know ,you were married. ! ‘8er does look young,’ he an- Jewcrcddris eves following hiswife’s ‘ \Vhat apology can you possiblv Mrs. Chester called the dtrmestichULTURE OF A PARAGUS. offer? How can you make your arrangements. which in reality peace?’ ’ ‘ meeans the kitchen and lower part In order to grow this Vegetable possesses all these qualifications necessarv to a successful popular lecturer. In the ’lll‘St place. he is thoroughly in earnest and ‘l have made it already; Shu: of the house. seems good-natured, and saw the went with them, and Mrs. ChestI-ria consrdemblc extent thing as it wasâ€"a misapprehensron took them in at the back door, a'prepared. altogether. I'd rather had given a hundred pounds, though. than it should havehap‘pcned. Why couldn’t Penelope open her mouth and tell me she was come, and in the gar- den?’ . He was splashing away at the water, having turned up his cuffs and his wristbands to wash his hands evidently not on very good terms with himself. Hrs wife stood in si- lence, and when ho had finished, watched him brush his hair. They were ready to go down. ‘ Clara.’ ‘ Don’t speak of this to any one, my darling. It really has annoyed me. I do not suppose she will.’ ‘Of course I will not.’ And be bent liis'hot face over his wife’s and kissed it.’ In the corridor they encountered Mary Annie and Margaret Jupp, and all descended together. Mrs. Chester had momentarily disappear- ed, looking after her household unat- ters, and the Miss Jupps and Lady Ellis grow talkative instantly, recall- ing old scenes of their childhood, when they had used to meet. It therefore happened that Mrs. Lake never was introduced, and Lady Ellis wondered who she was: they all seemed to call her Clara, during dinner. A table with fruit and wine was set out on the lawn, but they did not seem inclined to sit round it, rather dispersing into couples or groups, flitting about amidst the walks and flowers. Oliver Jupp ap- Thc old relic of! proached Lydia Clappcrton, and Mr. Lake appeared perfectly resigned that it should be so. For himself, he was everywhere; now with Mary Anne Jupp, now with Margaret, now with his wife, now with Lady Ellis; mostly with the latter, who did not by any means object to the companionship. In short it was a delightful, urcsremonious, lassier- aller sort of a>Scmbly. with Mrs. ‘hcstcr seated in her woods, to play propriety, whilst her children made themselves as troublesome as they liked. ‘Who is that young lady?’ ab- ruptly exclaimed Lady Ellis to Frederick Luke, pointing toward the dessert table. ‘ They call her ‘ Clara.” He looked surprised, and then Don’t you know ?’ ' I don’t know who she is. Iknow that she is one of the boldest girls I ever saw.’ ' She bold 7.’ uttered he, in marked astonishment, while a flush darkened his cheek, ‘ You are mistaken, Lady Eliis.’ ‘ Bold; and unseemly bold,’ re- peated she, ‘I speak of that young lady who is now sitting by Mrs. Chester. You called her ‘Clara,’ at dinner'.’ ‘ I understand of whom you speak. But why do you call her bold l’ She was silent for a moment, and then lifted her head. ‘ When we have. lchd in India, have travelledl â€"'n short, have rubbed off the re- scrve and rusticity which experience of the world only can effect, we like to speak out our opinion, and call things by their right names. A few minutes ago you were with her in that walk, talking to her, she hold your arm, and she suddenly clasped; her other hand over it, and kept it there, turned her face up to yours with [what looked very like ardent admiration. It struck me as being â€"â€"~notâ€"not secmly.’ He coughed down a laugh, ‘she. has a legal right to look in my face, and with ardent admiration too, if‘ she likes, and you may believe me when I assert that from her you will never witness anglit unseemly. Sho' is my wife.’ ‘ Your wrfcl almost screamed Lady Ellis, taken utterly by sur- prisc.’ ‘ My own wife.’ His saucy blue. eyes gazed into those amazed black 1 ones, enjoying their confusion with an exceedingly saucy expression. Lady Ellis, burst into a laugh, ‘ \Vell, I suppose I must beg your pardon now.-â€"â€"Wc all seem to be letting ourselves in for mistakes and blunders. I thought she was figure, as she moved away with .Mis. Chester. Clara had gone to look at what Mary Anne Jupp 5 well the soil should be deepened to belie-Yrs all he says. In ' the next place, he possesses the happy faculty of telling and well what he does know in language pointed--â€"~ It should be trenched clearand simpleâ€"ideas the mOst common yard or two up the passage, tlieyfiin the full and thrown in rough turned into the kitchen. large room, convenient, they could see, at he first glance. l To be Continued. PROD IICTIVE FARMING. It is now pretty Wcll under- stood that crops which extract the some kind of ingredients from the soil, are injurious to each other, and cannot be raised in succession for any consicer‘able length of time. On a soil contain- ing potash, wheat and tobacco may succeed each other, because the tobacco does not require the phos- phates, which the wheat absorbs, it requires only alkalies. and food con- taining nitrogen. Wheat consumes large quantities of the silicate of potash, and on this account, it should be succeeded by turnips or potatoes, which do not require much potash. l’thre green crops are grown, the land may be sown with wheat every fourth year, because in the interval the soil by the actioo of the atmosphere, has been rendered capable of supplying a sufficient quantity of the silicate of potash for the sustenance of the wheat plant. It is said that the turnip crop is not severe 0n the soil, as it derives a great part of its sustenance from the atmosphere. This may be true, but although we have frequently tried, we could never succeed in raising a large crop of wheat after turnips, and only for the destruction of weeds and the larvae of hurtful in- sects which takes place in the culti- vation of drilled turnips we would say that this crop is not a good pro- paration for wheat. Turnips cannot be readily taken off the ground in time for the sowing ofwinter wheat. Spring wheat may be put in after them. but barley or oats do much better. To make land truly productive, rotation ofcrops must be established, in fact it is the leading feature in the agriculture of every Country that is remarkable for productive farming. It has been long since adopted in Belgium and England, has been introduced as a special covenant in the leases of the Scotch farmers. and is fast gaining ground in Ireland. The same kind of rota- tion does not answer in all soils, but the main object of the system is to obtain a variety of crops without exhausting the fertility of the soil, and favoring the production of weeds and noxious insects. Bons- singault has remarked that if we could procure an unlimited supply of manure. and cheap labor. there would be no occasion for adopting a course of rotation, and the business of the farmer would be to calculate between the probable value of his harvest and the cost of its produc- tion. But it has been found impos- sible to procure manures and labor sufficient for raising extensive crops on large farms. without alternating those crops which do not require manure with those which cannot be grown without it, and from neces- srty farmers were compelled to ad pt rotation of crops. When a farmer has sufficient capital for purchasing suitable stock and em- ploying labor, he can render the soil extremely, and whether in grass or tillage, can make the acre- ablc yield very great. The turnip has worked a complete revolution in English husbandry, because it has enabled the farmer to support a large number of stock, and they contribute to their own sustenance by producing plenty of manure.â€" Thc solid manure is generally used for root crops which are succeeded by grain and grass crops without manure. The liquid manure is used for top-dressing meadows and nas- .tures, which by means of this appli- cation produce very heavy crops. Few persons are aware of the large number of stock that a well man- aged small farm is capable of sus- taining, nor of the heavy crop that well inannrcd land will produce. ‘ May I be married, ma 2’ said a lovely girl of fifteen to her mother the other morningsâ€"J Marriedl’ exclaimed the asâ€" tonished matron, ‘What put such an idea in- to your head ?’â€"â€"‘Litth: Emily, here, has neVer seen a wedding, and I’d like to amuse the child,’ replied the obliging sister, with fascinating simplicity. it was a,ridges to be ameliorated by the ifrbst of winter. Forking the ground at every opportunity and turning up fresh surfaces to the in. fluence of the atmosphere, will have a tendency to prepare it for the re- ception of the seed or the plants .rn the spring. The beds should be four feet wide, well mannred with the richest compost to which a considerable portion of sal should be added. plants are sufficient in each bed. feet wide. in for I must certainly eXpress TWO l‘OWS 01’ for the task, but I place, as well those of a higher order. are equally, and with the same case ushered forth, in language most beautiful, audicveu sublime. In his hands that driest-inf all mundane subjects, Geology. seemed as it were animated with life and vitality. ‘The reeks peopled again with their antideluvian inhabitants, and the stones compelled to cry out and speak volumes in favour of truth. It, is not my intention at present'to give a detailed report of this Very able lecture, my inability must certainly say, that I, with the greater portion of those and the alleys between the beds WllOliSlencd feltdeeplyinterested,especial- should be two or two and a half ly in his reputation of Hugh Miller’s Many persons plant theOry of the rocksâ€"this evidently was cauliflowers or brocolr in these al- [he Pit” and Obit“ 0i. “16 lecture- lcys. but this practice has been dis- continued in the best The plants should be set out in drills two feet apart, and twelve Some persons prefer to sow the lsced spaced as above, and contend that they can raise stronger plants in this way. Some marketgardcn. ers pile on a heavy coat of soil from the alleys early in spring, and the plants growing up through this, form the slender white stems which are sold in the market ; but in the best private gardens the beds are protected by a covering of rich manure during the winter and early spring months; this is forked up and broken before the plants come up in spring, some fresh soil added and the beds raised to a moderate height above the. roots. When treated in this way the plants throw up strong and succulent stems, which are cut some inches beneath the surface before they become hard and "srickey." By this latter method of treatment the asparagus is partly of its natural green colour and of superior flavor. ' Lnssoxs T0 WATER-DRINKIGRS.‘â€" Some. waters, holding carbonate of lime in solution, may be softened by boiling. This is the case with Thames water, and all water from chalk. Water, hardened by sul- phatc of lime, becomes yet harder by boiling, in proportion to the ex- tent of the evaporation. Soft waters are vapid and dull to the taste of hard water-drinkers. Ani- mal: of all kinds dislike any change ofwater. Sudden change may be injurious to men. Armies of hardâ€" water-drinkers lrnvc.du ring a march. had many of their number prostrat- ed by the drinking of soft water; to the great solvent power of which the stomach is unused, and it pro- duces spasms. This does not hap- pen because soft water is nnwholc- some, but because hard-water- drinking has become, as smoking may become, an established habit, difficult to break off suddenly.â€" Livcrpool people object to the peat taint on the pore surface water with which they are now supplied. Of the soft-wetor-drinking towns already named, Lancaster gets “'21. for, nearly pure, from millstonc grit, and Kcswick, from the clay slate of Skiddnh, which receives water fresh from the clouds almost of the standard softness of distillcdl water. Londoner's may drink good water ifthcy first boil, and then filter what is supplied to them. hav- ing set it in pure air to cool. Pure water, as before said, dissolves and absorbs eagerly. Any water in a foul cis.ern, or in a cistern near a dustbin, over a drain, or connected by the waste-pipe with a foul drain. must become unwliolesomc. The old cry of “The Wells are poisoned." in case ofan epidemic, is commonly a true cry still ; only the poisouer has to be laid no lo-gcr on the Jews. Lately, in Salford gaol, a peculiar sickness seized upon a number of the prisoners. The medical officer traced this to the water. A cistern, of which the waste-pipe led to the sewers, had been covered in. During 'not and dry weather. the foul gases from the sewers were conveyed by the waste- pipe to the surface of the cistern, and, being retained there by the cis- tern lid, were absorbed in such quantity as to impregnate the whole contents very nearly up to immedi- ate poisoning point. The corn, nexion between bad water and' cholera is known to all. So is, or so should be, the risk of poison in- curred by the passage of soft water over lead. Soft water-50 hungry Ile commenced first with the sure basis, gardens._ science,an religion, are inseperableâ€"for‘ .he infidel himself acknowledges the con- .mction. He then proceeded to argue inches from each other in the drills. mat “’6 scmnc' 0’ geo’ogy‘ " Properly understood, is not opposed to the Marnie. tCCOUIlt, or revelaii ‘0. And after making a feiv preliminary rr arks on the rocksâ€"â€" their origin and immense sizeâ€"from ’5 to 10 miles thick, and professor Hitchcocks decision as only 7?, miles. He then came down to facts, the Fossils, their p0sition, appearance and character, an evidence or proof of the history of the rocks. The date of their formation, and the time re- quired for their being deposited Hugh njillcrs view, or as it is termed the long Chronology creeds be. disputed, by the presentation of facts the most infidel dare not deny. The trunks of trees in part or nearly whole as found in the coal beds of England and this continent, and even in the. different strata of rocks preserved through ages in a perfect and normal con- ditionâ€"-tlie fossilifercus remains of large shoals of fish inhabiting different media and besrdcs various annualsâ€"all shewing that some specific and special agent was at work in securing their death and that the deposit of the rocks after, must necesâ€" sarily have been rapid to have secured their present natural appearance. These, and a number of other facts equally new and interesting. were presented by the lecturer during the course of the evening; as successfully combatting the theory of the long Chronology as taught by H. Miller, Sir Charles Lyell, and others of equal note. He then closed by a brief notice of the prominent Geological features of Canada, and those especially bearing on the great question at issuc:â€"tlie recession of the falls of Niagara from Queenston to their present position, the sub strata of the rocks in that neighbourhood being soft, marl or clay, mixed with gravel, was easily washed away by the vast body of water, while the superincumhant weight broke off grunt masses of rock in succession as the shelving rocks were in this way under- mined. The whii lpool--â€"its origin evident- ly from the fact of the sub strata here being sandstone-â€"tlre fall must have re- mained at this point for a great number of years. ‘ \Ve cannot, indeed, close this brief and imperfect notice of this lecture without again reverting to the fact that in this ecture we have seldom seen so beautifulyl blended the scholar and the divine. W'iN'rnn lustrousâ€"Tho supreme of comfortâ€"home comfortâ€"can only be experienced on a bitter winter night, when the fierce wind is rag- ing like a furnished dragon outside the house, now Shaking the doors in its mad gusts of passion, now shoot- ing furiously down the chimney, and anon dashing its porcupine wings, feathered wrth sharp sleet, against the double windows We know it can’t get in. It may rave through the cheerlesss streets, it may chafc the ice-cold river, it may fly shriek- ing through the woods, it may roar through the mountain passes, but it cannot disturb the blessed warmth and quiet of the family room. \Ve smile connilaccntly, as the wild be- sieger, after each assault, pauses for a while as if to recruit his ener- gies for a new onset, and we thank heaven that our home is storm- proof-that the lambs of cor fold are safe! I told you SO.'-AH Old lady who was in the habit of declaring after the occurrence ofany usual event that she had predicted it, was one dav Very cleverly “sold’ by her worthy spouse, who, like many others we wot of, had got tired of hearing her etern- al ‘I. told you so.’ Rushing into the house, breathless with excitement, he dmpped into a chair, eleVated his hands, and exclaimedâ€"“Oh! wifel wife. lâ€"â€"what what do you think? The old cow has gone and ate up our-grindstone l’ The old lady was ready, and hardly waiting to hear the last word, she screamed out at; the top of her lungsâ€"4 I told you so! I told you so! You always would let it stand outâ€"a-dooas !’

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy