'I‘Oi-MORROW. Did we but know what lies beyond This varied. shadowy path we tread, How often would our souls despond, Our eyes the tears of sorrow shed ’l But God, who know what best to do, \Vho sees us from his starry throne, llns wisely hidden front our view That which had best remain unknown. “’0 walk to-day in conscious pride And hang the flag of hope on high; But ah. to-morrow, by our side, Some friend may lay him down and die. Some early flower that won our praise, Some altar where we laid our trust; -\ _. 7,“, _ , ALE X. SCOTT, Proprietor. AURORA “ V’ x x V\r\/\.â€"V* wam/ JVx/V‘J"\/'\/ \/ W‘me/ vx/ o RICHI‘I Vol. 11. N0 AND RICHOND v7“- GND HILL, FRIDAY, (\l Ayrxv'v v er-VW \. J Vvâ€"\r\,-\l-~\/\J~\.r\./~W\ /-\/ mf JULY 6, [860. m/V\.W \_/‘ “JV “ Let Sound Reason iiieigh more with us than Popular Opinion.†HILL ADVOCATE AND ADVERTISER. WV WW' ._.~ cAV' \,~\ ,sv. 7, TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. Such flower, ere dies the evening’s rays, May trampled be, and laid in dust. Youth dreams of many glorious things, As on he shies in pleasure’s track; Each day some new-burn promise brings, He turns no eye of sorrow back : The flowery ï¬eld are all before, His eyes on some bright star is set; in return. So they thought it a saw him, you know, when] was settled matter, and next day, after down to New York lastfall. Well. working hours, Nathan spruced iiplFanuv, I‘ve brought you up ï¬t to and strolled over to uncle Joshua’s‘be the wife of any gentleman who to ask consent. The old man sat g was good enough for you, and that smoking his pipe in the porch. His kind is scarceâ€"and if you can sct evening opera had just begun ; the i your cap for young Jacobs, and Win sun was setting, and there was a’liim, you’ll be lueky. You’re far soft benign expression about thejenough ahead of any city girl he ' ’. ' llIlIh'SllftI‘O. . . ' ‘ I": '3‘“; hwy: ‘it‘s shado'ws w, old gentleman’s month which Nn- knmvs.’ . - ° can“ as ' ' than thought boded well for his mis- ‘ But. fatbCl'; “10 idea of his car- To-morrow ‘. In its secrot'shado, I little know what is for me ; I may be with my fathers laid, sion. forward young fellow, and shaking Uncle Joshua’s hand, heitm‘, l l . ' I. ‘ ‘ ' o O He was a manly Sll‘algtit-Llllg for me! l‘iue,5011 ha"? 50m aftcrime to school and been very kind to but think how my tastes for 0r wrecked on dire misforttiitps sea; sat down by his side, and said, l climbmg Cheâ€). trees and jmming But far beyond life’s boundary “V†gently ; . heu’s eggs would shock a City bred = The everlasting army bright ; And [lo alone, who takes or gives, Catt guide my wandering feet aright. lll‘. Uiicle.’ 0r, Six Feet of Reasons why Miss Emmy Grey l1u vc you any object lOtlS If, (Uriel; Joshua’s daughter) to Ittlrln’t merry City MT. Jacobs" A COUNTRY ROMANCE. Uncle Joshua Grey owned a fine farm in the neighborhood of the Hudson Highlands. lie was rich enough to retire ; but he couldn’t hear to give the farm up, declaring that seed time and harvest had beâ€" come actual necessities of life to hint. and he must‘go on sewing and ' reaping until the sickt-l of the Grcat- Reaper should lay him out of sight- of the harvest moon forever. lie Worked with his men like one of themselves; told them many stories when thcyv tank thcii' ‘nnoning’ and was, the first to pass round the bottle at afternoon lunch. There was no music swcctcr tohim than farm music, as he called it,- and iii sharpening of the sc} the under the “arm blue skies, thcv chiip of the t,:ri«'.kot in the grass the twittering of tlic S\\‘;illt)W5 flit- ting round the barn which hmld their nests. the tickling of the cow bells at milking time, and the song of thc robin at sun rise, comprised an opera for him ever varied and delightful, of which his car never wearicd. Uncle Joshua liked his joke, and liked to have his own way. His wife had been dead many years, and he had never signed away his liberty as he termed it, by marrying the second time. His lioaSehold comprised one Widowed :ister, older than himself, his own daughter Fanny, as sweet a girl as ever was born to a farmer, and one servant. Uncle Joshua almost idolized Faun v. He sent her to school, and had her instructed in all the higher branches of studv, including whatever ae- complislnnents she chose to acquire. Besides the asparagus bushes and peacock feathers which always occupied Uncle Joshua’s parlor in summer time, there were a number of things worked in worsted, such as yellow lambs standing on blue grass, and cottage scenes with a setting sun illuminating a green sky, of which Uncle Joshu was justly proud, for Fanny ‘ did’ them, and he had roundly paid to have her learn. ‘ Uncle Joshua would not let Fanny sit down at the same table with his ‘ hande well enough for him to do so, he said, but that was no reason why Fanny should. Ilc didii’t think a dozen dirty men, rocking with perspiration and COVered with dust, was a sight likely to add to a young girl’s appetite: so Fanny ate her meals alone, save when she t r i ~ . . f _ Joshua filled With two long whilfs at? his pipe. married, Uncle Joshua ?’ *days, will be just such a stolid old man!’ ‘But you will dispensi: with all that while he is here, I hope. Well enough for you to indulge in such things here by yourself, but lay them aside when Mr. Jacobs comes, land show him how to behave like a . lady.’ ‘ ‘ ()h, I never could entertain him, father. I should be frightened to :tlt‘ttill. It is an easy matter to talk 5 to Cousin Nathan and these country beaux, but these city people, who 3tliink one cow gives skim milk, and lanothcr cream, and that we keep one expressly to give butter milkâ€"â€" such people are not congenial. I could not act myself before him.â€"â€"â€" I wish you’d send me away until his stay is ciided.’ ‘ Send you away, indeed! whenit is you he is coming to see ; that is,’ quickly (iOt'i'chttig himself, ‘hc is coming for his health. But then I know his father would rather have him marry some healthy sensible country girl, than any city lady in the land.’ ‘Iiut Consin Nat tered Fanny. ‘ Cousin Nathan can go to grass.’ Now, I've seen curtly said Uncle Joshua. ‘ And I along with him l’ she ask- with a roguish smile. ‘ Uncle Joshua 'l’ ‘ \Vcll, Nathan 'l’ ‘Fanny ’â€"â€"a pause, which Uncle , ‘Fanuy andl love each other, ‘ 'l‘he deuce you do.’ ‘She referred me to you, sir,~«. ‘ Any objections to her referring vou to incl Of coursel havc’nt, why should I?’ ‘ Any objections to our getting ‘Gctting married, ch! \Vell, what would you do with a wife l’ ‘ Low and cherish her.’ ‘ Does that mean support her l’ ‘ \Vhy, of course, sir.’ ‘And what have you to support her with 7.’ "l‘wo stout arms, and a stoutcr heart. sir ?’ ' ‘ \Vell, they won’t do for my Fanny Nathan, nohow. li‘aniiy hasn’t been educated, accomplished, and made a lady of, just to throw lici‘Sclf away upon some young country chap. who, some of these ban, father ?’ fal- chap as her father. you kinder hanging round here a good dcal, but I never dreamed it Cd ‘mls p‘anny you were after, 1 ‘You and Nathan can't marry, don't believe in cousins marrying, Fillm.“ 1““ “gin it, “‘0 BlblU’S ,mflmw, {Ur the Bible expressly agin it, and the fates are agin it.â€"-â€" forbldsit’ He’s promised to see you no more ‘ It forbids the marriage of second until you are the wife of some one cousins, sir: else. He has given you up slick ‘Wcll, whoever wrote. that law, (Hid Clean, and I hope you’ve got didn’t suppose ï¬rst cousins would too much spunk to feel any hanker- cvcr be such fools as to wish to lug fOI‘him tiftci‘ tltat.’ marry? Fanny’s cheek flushed very hotly, ‘I believe I could make Fanny then grew white again. She swal- huppy, Uncle Joshua ‘t’ ' lowed a quick sob, and said : . ‘Mav be you could; but my Very well; if, after all he said grandâ€"children would all be idiots.’ to be last night be untre, in this way, ‘Oh, Uncle 1’ I’m sure I don’t care. lie didn’t ‘ Well, Nathan, ’taint no use talk- CVcti bid me good bye.’ bigâ€"Fanny don’t know her own Uncle Joshua thought by the way mind yet. This thing, however, is the blemish shade settled around settledâ€"you and she can't marry li‘anny’smouth, that she did care a' each other; and so long as you ima~ vast deal more than be imagined gine she ought to be your wife, and She could. she thinks you ought to be hei hus- “film will Mr. Jacots be here, band, why, the less you see of each father ?’ other the better. Just keep away ‘TO-morrow afternoon, from her after this, and when Fanny for tea.’ gets over this nonsenSc, and is mar- Never had Fanny felt such a ried to some one else. you can be dread of‘ tomorrow aftcriiOon’ in cotisins again ; till then, you must all her life. It came at last, and she be to each other as nothing.’ knew the expected guest had arriv- ‘ \Vc sliallbe allthe world to each ed, because Uncle Joshua was in other always.’ the parlor down stairs talking to p; pm no dourâ€, you think 80, N,,_ somebody, and that somebody, she than,’ replied Uncle Joshua, rising f9“ Wm, was Jail." Jilcol’s~ and knocking the ashes out of his ,"1 H m†“I†and 2%,“ lhcycggs 0ԠPipe, . but mind, you must Holcomb. of tnc spreckled hen s nest, thought here any more, and don't let me 1“â€mi3 below I Put 0†my b0?“ hear of you enticing Fanny into any dress" clandestine meetings; if yeti do it will be the worst for you. Go home now, like a good lad, and get time in l Fanny considered the gathering of the eggs her solo prerogativcmnd had any one else touched the hens’ rid of the ‘mattcr of moonshinc’ nests, there probably would not at once. I don’t want to fall out have been anothcregg laid in Uncle Joshua’s barn, so well was it under- stood among the feathered tribe that Fanny never ‘ shoocd ’ them off the nest to get the fresh egg, or picked the shells to hairy out the little with you, my own sister’s son, but if you persist in this matter at all,tlieu I shall declare war.’ Uncle Joshua held out his hand, asked in some neighbor’s daughter to cheer her loneliness. Now, Fanny had a cousin, :1 tall, handsome, merry-hearted chap, who‘ had charge of the neighboring farm. Many were lliU'SlClgll rides they had together, in the long cold winters, and many the chat at the bars When Fanny, just for the sake of the walk, used to go down to the three cornered lot to bring home the cows. One time when cousin Na- than had taken Fanny to a dance, some ten miles from home, and she had been so sought after all the evening that st‘e had only been his partner once, he discovered that his‘lieart had passed out of his pos- sessir'm altogether, and on going home he charged Fanny with hav- ingl'thc knowledge of his where- abouts. Anyhow, he said, she was the last one who had it. Fanny but Nathan didn’t see it, his eyes‘ were so full of future desolation and loneliness. ‘Uncle Joshua, let me see Fanny, just to bid her good bye.’ Nathan had been blind when Uncle Joshua held out his hand. Uncle Joshua was deal'now, when Nathan , made his request. He passed into the house and closed the door be- hind him, shutting Nathan out with an air of utter unconsciousness, and! led Fanny back into the house just, as she was coming through the halll to join him. * ‘Faun ',’ said Uncle J0shua,draw-‘ ing a letter from his pocket, ‘yotr have heard me often speak of Simoui Jacobs, haven’t yeti .’ Well, here isl a letter from him stating that his‘ son's health is not very excellent, and he is anxious to find for him some quiet country home where he chickens not yet ready to be hatched. Fanny had scarcely reached the hay mow, when she heard Uncle Joshua enter the stable below, and commence to dcscant upon the fine guest ‘I would just like to get a peep at that young man, thought Funny. and stealing to the edge of the mow, she ventured to look down into the stable below. Alas for Funny!â€" The board on which she stood tip- ped with her weight, and, in a cloud of hay and dust, down she went, alighting squarely on the back of that ‘ off ox.‘ Had a witch upon a broomstlck f: not shame ; but Uncle Joshua took hei the graceful little ï¬gure presiding TOBACCO. at the table was the same which had come down upon him with From a book entitled “The use such a perfect rush, as†he termed it, ,and abuse of Tobacco,†by John from the barn. Unfortunately for iLizars, late Professor of Surgery to Fanny, she had a face which once the Royal College of Surgeons, and seen is never forgotten; and late Senior Operating Surgeon to the though she had combed her hair difâ€" i Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, we fereutly and changed her dress, and extract the following l l points of that ‘ ofl'ox ’ to his young, then before him, our Jacobs could have been more astonishedâ€"â€" Fanny could cry with vexation and decked her hair with daisies, Mr. Jacobs made up his mind that it was the same head which he had seen dccltcd in dust and hay seed a little while before, 'Never mind,’ thought Fanny, I’ll disguise myself in a dress to- morrow. I’ll ï¬nish that blue silk which father brought me fro ii New York and then he’ll be sure I’m not that dusty little wretch he saw out in the barn.’ With a heightened color, she talked to Mr. Jacobs, and the evening slipped away so delightfully, that the young man retired with the firm conviction that country air was already domg him much good. The next forenoon when the house was quiet,and Fanny imagined that Mr. Jacobs was out in the ï¬elds with her father, she took out her blue silk dress, and commenced sewing upon it. Hard as she tried to keep up her indignation for Na- than’s quiet desertion, her heart would swell and soften in spite of herself, and the blue silk dress would have been ruined, if salt water could have spotted it. Finally she threw aside her morning wrapper, and tried on the new waist to see how it would fit, for Fanny was her own dress-maker. Uncle Joshua’s house had no superfluous furniture, and the only mirror it contained hung in the parlor down stairsâ€"â€" Fanny thought she would run down while no one was about, and see how her dress looked very sweetly with her bare neck and arms swelling out from the unï¬nished waist, and her white skirt, contrath- ing with the rich blue silk. She walked into the curtaincd parlor,‘ turned herself around and around before the glass, and well pleased with the figure she saw reflected there, she made a smiling bow to it,‘ stepped back a few paces 'and curt- sicd, held out her hand in a most bewitching manner, and said, ‘how do you do 7.’ then she, suddenly drew herself up and stood as transfixedâ€"â€" stared wildly at the glass. then cov- ered her face with her hands and darted from the room. \Vhat had she seen there? 'It was another face beside her own, with eyes full of a kind of amused pity, and mouth struggling to keep from breaking into a smile! Fanny knew it was Mr. Jacobs’ ace; that he was sit- ting at the opposite side ofthe room â€"-the darkness of which had pre- vented her from discovering him when she first enteredâ€"that he saw all her rid‘culous gestures and her strange attire! (To be concluded in. our next.) EMPI.OY.\IICICI'T.â€"â€"Il is dangerous for a man of superior ability to ï¬nd himself thrown upon the world without some regular employment. The restlessness inherent in genius, being left thus undirected by any permanent influence, frames to itself occupations out of accident. Moral .lntcgi'ity sometimes fall a prey to ltlie want of ï¬xed pursuit, and the man who receives his direction in Sailors and navvics smoke more than any other class. The sailorl uses from eight ounces to sixteen ounces of tobacco per week; the navvy, eight or tenounccs, but part of this is chewed. Bad taste in the mouth, with sometimes an angry, irritable point on the tongue, lips, or fauces, which prevents him from smoking for a few days, are the only bad results I have observed.â€" It does not appear to affect the sys- tem of either of these classes. The miner uses above eight ounces per week. Often breathing an impure air, the tone of his system is low- ered, and then tobacco exorts its baueful influence on him. He is subject to dyspeptic, billious, and nervous attacks, while those who do not smoke are invariably the health- lest. Now, let the sailor or navvy take sedentary employment, and in a short time tobacco-smoking be- gins to make him shake, his mouth feels clammy, and he has a bad taste in it; he looses to a great extent his ï¬ne gustatory sense ; his appetite becomes capric- ious ; he feels languid and indolent ; his memory becomes confused, he has cardiarlc disturbance. A strong constitution may resist it a†few years, but ultimately gives way.â€" It is generally supposed that those who labor in the open air are ex- empted from its bad effect. Yhis is only the case in certain conditions ; they must be well fed. On the la- borer with Iow wages, it exerts its baueful influenceâ€"first from its ef- fects; secondly, from squatideriug a large portion of that which should go to nourish him, whereby he is still further debilitated. I may mention a curious fact,tnot generally known, but which re- quires only to be tried,â€"viz. that no smoker can think steadily and continuously on any subject while smoking. He cannot follow outa train of ideasâ€"to do so he must lay aside his pipe. On the question of smoking, Pro- fessor Lizars quotes from a brother professor these words : “I know of no vice which does so much harm as smoking. It is a snare anda delusion. It soothes the nervous system at the time, but to render it more irritable and more feeble ultimately. It is like opium in that respect ; and if you want to know all the Wretchcdness which. this drug can produce, you should read 'Confessious of an Opium Eater.’ I can always distingursh by his complexion a man who smokes much ; and the appearance ' which the faces present is an un- erring guide to the habits of. such a man. believe that cases of gen. oral paralysis are more frequent in England than they used to be, audI suspect that smoking tobacco is one, of the causes of that increase. ONE FRIEND.- How pleasant a thing it is to have a friend to whom we can unbosom our feelings when the world is harsh to us, and dark- ness has settled on the face of na- active life from the fortuitous im- pulse of circti'iistai’icc, will be apt to receive his principles likewise from chance. Genius under such guidâ€" ance, attains no noble ends, but rc- scmblcs rather a large spring con- veyed in a fallen acqut-duct, where the waters continually escape through the frequent crevices, and wastes themselves inefl'ectually on their passage. The law of nature is here, as elsewhere, binding, and no powerful results over ensue from the trlval exercise of high end-ownients. The ï¬nest mind, when thus destitute of a ï¬xed purpose, passes away without leaving permanent traces of its existence, losing its energy, by turning aside from its course. it beâ€" comes as harmless and inefficient as the lightning, which, of itself irre- sistible, may yet be rendered pchr- less by a slight conductor. ....a A newâ€"inarried lady, who, as in duty bound, was very fond of her husband, not-' ture. The outgushings of love and tenderness revive and cheer usâ€" drive away sadness from the bosom, and brighten the haven again. He who has one friend cannot be wholly cast down, can never be dri- ven to despair. The world, dark as it sometimes is, will always contain one bright Spot. it will grow brighter and brighter, till the stricken heart partakes ofjoy and is cast down no more. SWEARING.â€"A man that swears is like a man‘tliat fires a gun in the street with- out seeing where the charge is going to strike. When a person uses profain lang- uage he does not know what or whom it is going to injure. It is a habit which comes upon a man gradually, but grows rapidly. It demoralises a mans conscience, Wounds his honour, injures his own soul, and hurts the feelings of others. It is proï¬table in nothing, and misehievousin almost every- thing. 1 scarcely know of anything for which there is so little excuse. Ifyou say that you indulge in it only when you are Muscan STRE Normâ€"The muscular strength of the human body is wonderful. A Turkish porter will trot at a rapid pace, and carry a weight of six hundred pounds, Milo, acelebrated athletic 0f Cretoaa; in Italy, accustomed himself to carry the greatest burdens, and by degrees became a monster in strength. It is said that he carried on his shoulders an ex, four years old, weighing upwards of' one thousand pounds, and afterwards killed him with one blow of'his list. He was several times crowned at the Pythian games, and six at the Olympic. He presented himself the seventh time, but no one had the courage to enter the list against him. He was one of the disciples of Pythagoras, and to his uncommon strength that preceptor and his pupils owed their lives. The pillar which supported the roof of the house gave way, but Mine supported the roof of the building, and gave the philososlier time to escape. In old age he attempted to pull up a tree by the roots and break it. He partially effected it, but his strength being gradually exhausted, the free where cleft, reunited,arid left his hand pinched in the body of it. He was alone, and un- able to disengage himself, and died in that position. I'Ialler mentions that he saw a man whose finger, caught in a chain at the bottom of a mine, by keeping it forcibly bent, supported by that means the entire weight of his body one hundred and fifty pounds, until he was drawn up to the surface, adistaace of six hundred feet. Agustus 1f ., King of Portland, could roll up a Silver plate like a sheet of paper, and twist the strongest horse shoe asunder. A lien is said to have left the immprcssiou v-5: \ " Hanna'sâ€" A‘s t'he‘lmaso‘ii’ {at 5632» mg hay is approaching, we will give a few Words of caution in advbttbé. Don’t dry your hay too macho-Hay may be dried till it is as worthless as straw. As a good coffee-maker would say, “ don’t burn your-coffee, but brown it ;†so we say, don’t dry your hay, but cure it. Our good old mothers, who relied upon herb tea, instead of“ ’pothccary me- dicine,†gaiiiered their herbs when in the blossoms, and cured them in the shade. This is the philosophy of making good hay. Cut iii the blossom, and cure in the shade. The sugar of the plant, when it is†in bloom, is in the stalk readyto form the seeds. Iftlie plant is cut earlier,- the sugar is not there ; if later, the sugar has become converted .to woodv matter. Hay should be well wilted in the sun, but c'ured in the cock. ietter to be a little too green than too dry. if, on putting it into' the barn, there is danger of ‘ heating in the mow,’ put on some salt.â€"~.-4 Cattle will like it none the less. Heat, light, and dry winds, Will soon take the starch and sugar, which constitute the goodness of of his teeth upon a solid bar of iron. The most prodigious power of muscle is exhibited by the fish. The whale moves with a Velocity, through a dense medium, water, that would carry him round the world in less than a fortnight. A sword fish has been known to strike his weapon through the thick plank of a ship ; a speci men of such a plank, with the sword ofa ï¬:li sticking into it, may be seen in the British Museum. FARMERS’ KITCHEN GARDEN. THE .â€" It is to be regretted that among farmers generally so little attention is paid to gardening. The farmer’s garden is too often left to the care of women and children, and if any work is required to be done in it by stronger hands than theirs it is too often put off from time to time, with the exclamation, ‘Oh, we are all so busy now, we can’t be both- ered with the garden.’ Or if the labor is given at the request ofsome dearly loved wife or sister, it is perhaps grudgingly bestowed, and some inexperienced man or stable boy sent to perform the uuenvicd task, So great, in our opinion, is the value of a garden, well stocked with vegetables of every kind, that if too busy to attend to it ourselves, we should not hesitate to employ an experienced hand, even at considerâ€" able expense, to put into proper orâ€" ‘der every spring, after which the care of the garden and cultivation of the plants in it. would become a source of pleasure as well as proï¬t. If there are some ‘big boys ’ in the family, it is good policy to consign the care of the garden entirely to one of them, and as an incentive to attend well to it, purchase for him a stock of garden tools, seeds, and one or two good practical works on her- ticulture, and allow him to sell the surplus vegetables not required for family use to whom he may What is the more value of money, in com- parison to having health and enjoy- ing the comforts of a civilized life, toward which nothing conduces more than having the table plenti- fully supplied with wholesome vege» tables, both summer and winter.- The farmer’s kitchen garden is too often an obscure patch somewhere out of sight at the back of the house, where all the slops are thrownâ€"the clothes hung out to dry on lliC few currant bushes growing thereâ€"the fowls allowed to scratch for a living in summer, and the begs to root in autumn and winter. What wonder. then, if it becomes the nursery ground for weeds, and is an eyesore to the place? Better plough it up at once, and seed down to grass, than allow it to remain thus. Others, again, with every disposition to do justice to their garden, yet turn it into an orchard, by ï¬lling it with hay, out of it ; and with the addition of a shower, render it almost worth- less. Grass cur d with the least exposure to the drying winds and searching sunshine, is more nutritioss than if longer exposed, however good the weather may be. Ifover- cured, it contains more woody ï¬bre, and less nutritive matter. The true art of hayâ€"making, then, consists in cutting the grass when the starch and sugar are most fully developed, and before they are converted into seed and woody fibre ; and curing it up to the point when it will an- swer to put in the barn without heat-v ‘ing and no morc.~â€" 0. Farmer. A ’ READY Renameâ€"We have recently asccytained that the saliva in drying forms a thin and delicate varnish, that may be used to great advantage for burns, as well as for those inconvenient inï¬amations or swelling in the corner of the eye, known as styes. The varnish is of course purer some time after eating, and more concentrated before than after eating. Ifa small burn, which does not destroy the skin, is immedi- ately moistened from the mouth and blown upon at intervals, the evapor- ation by the current of air will cool the surface, and more quickly form a varnish by repetitious, and a two- fold beuefit thus results. A stye in the 0) e, if taken at the first com- mencement, may be soon cured in the same way, being careful to ap- ply it some time after eating or drinking. Varnish has long been known as an excellent cure ,for burns if applied immediately, and this is a verp ready and good one.â€" Country Gentlemanâ€" M \Vheu a young girl leaves her paternal home to become a wife, it is to enter upon- and assume the responsibility of a new set of duties, and her ï¬rst obedience should be to her husband. The love of father, and especially of mother, may linger in her fond gating heart; and until the ,novelty of her situation as a wife has some- what worn away she may have yearnings for the fireside and loving face that beamed upon her from infancy to maturity. All such feelings are natural, but; they should not be indulged in too freely, as they tend to engender a dangerous, morbid feeling. Love for parents is the most spiritual portion of our emotional nature, and in a properly balanced mind will coâ€"exist with love for a husband. The latter affection, howeicr, as regards the new life thrown on her young heart, claims the first rank. Every married woman should love her husband, her parents, and her brothers andsisters, aad the combined feelings, the whole in one, of womanly love in marriage, were intended to work harmoniously, and they generally do so, the interuptions and dislocations of the system being chiefly caused by external influences. “ A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?â€" It is a common request; but how many pennies it would take to buy some thoughts! IIow many blissful dreams would be (lisv solved could they be purchased and made known; how many hearts that now throb peacefully would be aching; how many sni'iiisliliiy faces would be clowded with gloom! And yet there two sides to this, as well as to most questions. How much more the the offered “penny†is the kind thought! \Vithhold not that! It were feet to the crpplcd wings to the leadenâ€"hcart- ed-iuanna to the laiiiisliiiig in this world’s wilderness. There are a thousand ways in which a skilful physician can give a drop of balm. A cheery look, or smile, even towards a stranger, will sometimes turn the whole current of his miserable thoughts, beguile him out of his downeast looks and morbid reflections. Don’t wait for an iii- troduction to a drowaiag man. Throw him a rope, and pull him out; never mind what his name is~-briag him ashore. T m E Maven. WANTS TO THEE.â€" A yo ting man had been to sea and was narrating to his uncle an adventure which he had met on board a ship.~â€"â€"“ \Villiam,’ ,' said his uncle, slightly elevating his broad brim and opening his eyes to their widest fruit trees, which are well enough while young and small, but when they grow into the goodly propor- tions of maturity, they shade the capacity, “'I‘hce expects me to believe thy story ?’â€"~“ Of course! You wouldn’t dream of calling me a liar, would you uuclc?’~â€"“\Villiaui,’ replied the uncle, “Thee knows I never call anybody names; looked half pleased and half pro- voked, but admitted that she had met with a similar loss, and as fair exchange was no robbeiy, she would keephis'siucc she had found it, if'h'e would'be satisfied with her ’s'for him. to come here at once. can be quiet and recruit. New, fancy, this young man is well edu» catcd, is rich, is the son of an old friend of mine, and, moreover,he is a nobleyoung man. I have Written I a escape into the house, and went at had happened. At tca- Mr. Jacobs wondered i like a baby in his arms, put her over into the next stall whence she could telling of his ‘ ofl'ox ’ as if nothing withstanding his cxtrciiie uglyneSS, of per-j ' Stilt, once said to a witty friend, “ \Vliat tan." (“her t'me' do you think? My husband has laidâ€"out WW ï¬fty guincas for a large baboon to please ) Ulfl. the friend, “ Well, it’s just like him.†D f, of a pretty angry, I reply it is worse then than at I _ The lash that man does not object to comes discouraged. and gives up me pafl_..'1‘he dear little man !’ CrlCd out. j baring laid on his shoulders-Abe eye-lash gardening ' ground“) mUChv that any attempt i0 but, \Villiam, if the mayor of the city gt'PW vegetables under “Ifâ€? ends “I Were to come to me. and say, “Josiah, I failure from the want of Iiglit and . I ' want thee to find the biggest liar in all air; the embryo horticulturist be- l’hiladelphia,’ I would come straight to thee, and put my hand on thy sliouledr, and say to thee, *‘ \‘Villiam, the mayor wants to st-e thee-1’ in despair. ~â€" Valcly _ Farm er.