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4": ‘_~_'_.-.._.-- * whit ,M f -‘ 77' illtll parlor. ._." ...,,.c_â€"~..__. ___..... 'HUMANI'TY. as" Yeti lam sad, and still shallbeh while man is so unkind To. crush: and: trample iii the dust the good ‘ and noble mind; v ' And-hold in superstition’s throw] the hen Unature free Todo its own unaided will, whate’er its lot may be, i ' rt, by Where’er on earth you turn your step, where’er ’ -/‘\N \_,"\/‘_/ W\ A J‘V\/\_/ -A\./â€"\/\MA,/« ./ Vâ€"V \xv Vva/\J\.Vx/VV~_/V‘x/ AL EX. SCOTT, Proprietor. “ Let Sound Rea N'JV’V’WVV AURORA AND RICHMOND HILL ADVOCATE AND ADVERTISER. _ MN-Wâ€" Vâ€" son weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.” maze, The brute. though uncultivated, you’ll one“ better find, But humane nature is a mystery not ye, defined, Look at that poor enfeeblo‘d wretch, who comes ,to, ask for bread _ 1 From thee, 'whose tables, by day, with luxuries are spread ; By cruel taunts you wound his h ltim come no more; One crime is hisâ€"a great one sureâ€"the crime of being poor. ‘direct they gaze, Still man on the face of nature is a delusivo cart. and bid ,Oh man! where’s thy humanity? olr ! man where is the love Bestowed on thee by nature, more than the I beasts that move 7 Or when thy boasted charity. when you refuse to give Thy aid unto thy fellow-men, or bread that he may live 't 0h 3 tell me not that men ls kind, while he reâ€" fust‘v to share The adversities of fortune his fellow-man must bear ; “'hilst he rcfuso to give :ris aid, the wounded heart to heal, Which will be done with chocrfulnoiss‘whei. man for man can feet. If man could fool for man. all competition then would cease, Atid woos that now defile the earth, would die awayiu DEnCu ; ‘ Arid ignorance and error, now the evils of ‘, mankind, “'trttld cease forever to exist, or to deform the mind. you that are men come forward, come forward in your might, And join with heart and hand in this. the world’s free fight : New lend your aid and'uso your might, op- pression ro o’ortlrrow, And strive to act the manly part, as on life’s path you go. The truth is fil.’d with bittcr woes, man’s life is frtll of care, And grief and disappointment we all must hear our share ; Then you that have a human heart, and all these evils know, l'lunge not thy follow deeper in the labyrinth of woe. SCRIBBLER. Mirch 19., ISGO 'liltr‘irtrtrr. . $1.11: 1‘ e IORRIS; 0R Leaves from a Gentleman’s Diary. ,__.â€". Continued. 1,‘.‘ You are fond of reading, 1 pre- sume I” I ventured to remark, spunk-,1 ing in a dubious-like tonc, bctwocn assertion and enquiry, intirnating that I thought so by a significant glance at the volumes before me. “Yes, sir.” she replied; “~ books are my only companions.” With this discovery 1 was delight- ed. It was proof of her taste being literary. I opened “ Byron,” and C' ' :"“" v- '2. ,. .,.. . “Sink SIP?” 2; S.“‘"Z.‘ m ~ bhfldb H“ H“ 1”” {’0 “LII “l “5 glf’MWUdU-V oncouritcrcd Lcmucl, tho irnrn who "I s “ “j” _°‘g‘3}““g for amommll uratit, Wars ortnnncntod by ncrtlrcr tho peculiarity ofj‘rny situation. IrC- gcri‘i nor’llowcr, and, cxccpt'tr silk- l awning pmvmug. “‘3 lines. We“: dC- cn-lrkc ringlct on cithcr tctnplc, trr-y v . . v v i .- . - ‘ ‘ I 1 _ ‘ - -- . . . “WWW 0f *1 51mm 0“ ldlw (JUN-VJ ranng Wllll almost Quaker srn‘rplrcr- poatcd them. V and often had I reverted to them with admiration during the solitary hours of study. I lifted my cycs from the page when I had finished; hers Wcrc fastened upon mine with an intense gaze. lfelt flattercd but confused. When reading the verse of Byron, onc’s feelings. if 3 Spark of. poetry is within us, become lost to everything else and completely absorbed in the energetic language of the author. It was so with me on this occasion. The young lady Was evidently disconcerted when ourgcycs met, and the sudden glow upon her cheeks was indicative of the natural delicacy of feelings. She mess of your mother; am I right in asked me to excuse her for a moment the conjecture n-t'osc, and with that grace which “‘0 cm“ alone P055335. glided from lutcd. as her eyes, suddenly dirnincd the apartment. Left to myself, my brain bccamc busy with a quick succession of thoughts. “ What were the thoughts of. Miss Morris in consequence of this unexpectcl meeting I” I scarc- ely knew what my own were, for it seemed like a dream to me. “ What were her feelings I” Was] tojtrdgc of them by the pcrplcxity of mine 'l She had as yet said nothing of the occurrence of which the theatre was the localityâ€"viior had I. Was she to approach the Subject 3 or was it opened the door and announced that my place. “ I crossed the room and looked from one of the windows out upon the night. It was densely dark; not an object met my View.‘ The storm still raged; the rain beat against the windows, but the lightning, which been so frequent and vivid im- Judging from appearances it wasl RICHMOND Vol. H. No. Is. think that one of my sex would little rclisli bcing lch alone as I am, but I am accustomed to it. sir. My fatlici' is frequently absentâ€"«absent for .wccks at a time; yet with the pro- tcction of this faithful friend of cor furnily,”-â€"-alluditig to a midlc-agcd martin attcndanccâ€"“ and another who is about tlrc pi‘ctiilsce',l have not likely the storm would soon abate and I began to consider it asunavoid- able lhat I should be indcbtcd to ter hospitality ofthe cottage fora night‘s lodgino. l “ Where was her father? He had not been in the room. Was h: HILL, Fm DAY, DIAHCH 1869., t . . . . we ; It was so. in this instanceâ€"we felt it. Since I had left in the morning he had again changed her dress; t printed muslin, desultory kind of conversation. continued to sit at the table long after we had ceased to eat. Happening ; s to observe the " patience, on a monu- 2 she wore a near merit” sort of attitude unrir‘ituincd ; (then in fashion ;) and I noticed also by the two servants, who were a pair of golden ear-drops which doubtless wondering why we sat so i she had not previously worn in my long, I made a movement and we'presencc. Her hair was ticd bo- rosc. I Walked to the parlor while bind in aGrccian knot, from which l l FIXED FAcTs*”'INj CULTURE. Somebody has made up the fol: lowing list of ‘fixed facts’ in agrié. c‘ullui‘c. Though calculated for that 3 Eastern States, many of the facts, are of gcncral application :_ 1. All lands on which clovm' or. the other grasses are sewn, must, either have lime naturally, or that mineral must be artificially supplied. wamwwmvvwvvvwvvvwvwm«snow/J It muttcrs but little whether it be, supplied in the form of some lime, oyster-limo or marl. ) 2;. All pct‘trrattcrit improvement of funds must look to limc'as its basis. _ 3. Lands which have long been” iii-culture, will be benclitted, by up, plrcation of phosphate oflime, corit-. posts of flesh. usircs, or that of oys- ter-shell limeâ€"0r marl if the lil-lldl; nerd h. I ' 4,. No lands can, bc'pi:eserved in a, high state of fertility unless clover and the grasses are cultivated in the course of rotation. TERMS: $1 50 In Ad vance. l MW... , _-_.,_3 VVholc No. 68. the motives which have actuated the leaders of the Opposition party ,to suggest the hateful cry of “Down with the ountcssl” The anti- Gcr‘mun party who lead on the cry know wcllcnough that it is to end in the abdication of the King, the l‘ U in the house? or was be absent? She had not mentioned him; had not as much its dropped a hint i’irspcct- in him.” Occupied with thch and similar self-inter rogatorics, I had lcis-. urc to examine the elegance of the apartment. The walls were covcr- cd with a neat pattern of French paper, and the ceiling ornamented with stocco work. Over a llltll'lllce piece of polishcrl Italian marble was a superb painting of the handsome George the Fourthâ€"~which confirm- cd lll my mind what I had hitherto suspccicd, that Mr. Morris and his (ltiuglruir‘ wcrc Englile pcoplc. Op- positc this, and irrimcdnrlcly over the sofa on which I had first scrrtrd tnysclf, was a full longtlr portrait of. \Vasliiiigton in the Cabinet. Ill one of thc i'<:r't::‘ es, of which thcrc \vcrc two, ()ll one side of tho fircplzicc,) hung a likeness of ex-prcsidcirt John Quincy Adams, and in the other an admiral portrait of President Jack- son. Besides these there were in the room scvcral landscapes and smaller paintingsâ€"Sln’rkspctrrc, Mary Quccii of Sculls, Franklin, Napo- lcoir, Byron, Madame dc Slacl. ctc., ctc., and one portrait which I could not i'ccognizc. "On each cud of the tnztritlc-piocc was a bust, catch rcprc- scnting a British authorâ€"w ddisori and Sterne. The latter portrait, which I have mentioned as not being able to re- cogriizc, upon a closer cxai‘nitnttiori, l discurvcrcd to bear a rcscinblttucc to Miss Morris; yct I saw it could not have been dcsigncd as a likcricss of her. \Vas it licr mother? and for IIIU first timc a. thought occurred to me rcspccting tlic trratcrintl par- ent of her upon whom my affections \vcrc correciitrating. _Orhcr thoughts followed this. Had she brothers, sistcrs, or was she an only child I Among the other articles of furni~ turc was a book-cuss. . harp stood in one corncr as if scldorn nets-rim? mute, like that which " oiicc 1hr" ugh Tara’s halls the soul ofmusic slicdf’ but a piano, opened and thc stool bc- not much to apprehend.” and my (IClGSltlblU brotircrâ€"lii-law. I’rudcncc, though, loi‘btrdc me to speak of it. do “ this is a lovely spot which your As she spoke of her frrtlrcr my thoughts reverted to the scuffle in the woodsâ€"tho irrimical cucmtntcr which I had witncsscd bctwccn him " This,” said I, after a short pausc the corchrsatiozr, sit cctcnrng a second cup of the Chinese licvcrage, Hi father has choscii for at sr,...rncr re‘ treat. Dorrlrtlcss his daughter is alivc to tho churriis of its scciici'y, and tip- prcciritcs to thc fullest cit-toot tlic bcztutlcs of micro that art: cvcry- whci‘c unfolded to the eye in this dc- lightful valc ?” “I am not inscnsrblc to the charms of our residence.” shc rcspondcd; “ yet there arc intervals, I confess, when I grow wczrry of solitudc and long for the bustle of the city again. Eighteen months have we bccii in tho country, rill of which time. with the exception of out: chk in “New York, (wbcrc \vc arrived from Eng- land,) and at month in Philztdclphnr las. autumn, we have rcsidcd here, in New York my father unrdc the purchase of this property, to which we immediately rcmovcd.” "Iii‘igland, tlicn, is your native country'l” “ Yes, sir. But I shall grow sol- cmn if I tarlk of tho pastâ€"«l always do.” “"0 now became at case within each orhcr’s socicty. After tca wc :‘cturncd to tin- pzrrlor, and the ne- glcctcd harp and. the chcrisl‘rcd piano wcrc both put into rise; on both of which shc accompanied hcrsclf If) a stylc that for melody and grandeur I had never heard cquzillcd. \Vhilc she was scatcd at ter harp, with lict‘ whitc trtpcr fingers running over the chords and mingling tlrc tones of her voice with tho irrusic of tlic instru- mciit, it scorned as if my soul had taken its flight from earth, and that slic on whom I gtrzcd was of uriothcr ,._.___.. Miss Morris ascended to her chum-t her to lay asidc lict' riding drcss. Ill a few moments she returned. At my request she sat down to the piano and sungâ€"and thus had she been playing and singing and con- versing With me as much as an hour if not more, when I mentioned that Irnust take my leave of her for the present. I had attempted once or twice before to take up my hat, but had been charmed as it were to the spot. But now I was detcrmincd to tour myself away from the en- clruntrncnl, (the family would be Lllul'lllcd at my absericc,) and after expressing my thanks for the affable hospitality with which I had been treated, I turned my steps homoâ€" wurds, having promised to return to the cottage in a day or two. When I got back to the hotel, in answer t0 the family‘s inquirics,I imply stated that I had been over-, taken by the storm and found shelter in a cottage, “ In a cottrtgcl" cchocd my mo- ther; "how uncomfortable you must fr.er slept.” ‘ “ Not at all,” I replied; "I never enjoyed a better night’s rest.” “You were fortunate thcn; cot- tugcr’s fare is gcncrally but indiffer- ent.” ' l ‘ . u v D She was inqursrttvc and aslth par- ticulars, but I managed to evade giv- ing direct rcplics.~ Asr:cnding to my chain her, I put on fresh clothesâ€"my liiicu especially not looking the nicest :‘rftcr‘ .nrvirig bccn slept in. Busy with the thoughts of Miss Morris and the cottage, and what had taken place there, I lounng about all the morning, doing nothing but think. I would take up a newspaper to road, but could scarcely got through a sentence or two ere it was laid aside. Next I would sit down to write to some of my correspondents, but hardly a linc would I trace before I relinquished the attempt. In fact, I could do nothing; my mind was com~ pletcly unsettled. My sensations v~â€"a dream of ages past, w l hung a profusion of ringlcts; and around her forehead was a bandcau ofburnished gold sctwith diamonds. This style of classic contour of her fcatures, and imparted a queen-like dignity of expression to the rcposc and mildncss of her countenance. Half-listening, half lost in my reflections, as she thus sat at the harp and I gazed upon her beauty, my soul seemed wrapt in a dream hen the lovcâ€"lorn Sappho tuned hcr lyre and l bcwailed the absence of her lover. Thus occupicd (or thus idling, it perhaps may more properly be ex- prcsscd,) the afternoon sped swiftly , by ; I again took too at the cottage, and it. was after dark when I got into the saddle to leave. I But Why dwell upon this part of my subject? For three weeks I was constantly at Mary’s side ; we rode upon horseback together ; walked together, arm-.in-arm, along the banks ofthe Brandywine; dined together; suppcd togetherâ€"and her father was still absent! The par- lor began to losc its charms for us â€"1hc harp and piano were less fre- quently used. Our delight was to wander alone by the light of the moon. to talk ofythe stars, and to recount to each other old tales of love and traditions of uncxamplcd attachmentâ€"of Hero and Leander, Abclard and Heloise, Romeo and Juliet; and at such moments we found a language more poetical, more congenial to our souls than even the poetry of our favorite au- thors, Pope and Byron. For hours of an cvcniug wc would sit together in some remote part of the place. and, as we gazed upon the starry firmament, inhale the summers breeze; and at times like these] was frequently upon the point of alluding to llt.‘l‘ mother; but each time lulled, deterred by ' l election of Prince Christian, and the consequent discord, wlrcrcin Russia will find her account, for which she has been intrigi’ring so lorrcr. The career of the Countess Dunner has been one of the most extraordinary. Originally a millincr, of third-rote pretensions, in the town of Irlano- vcr, she was induccd to leave her nativc place in searcn of better for» tune bya member of the family of Blixcn, and wont to settle in Copen- hagen, where she toook a small shop, in a shabby quarter of the town leading to the waterside, glad at that time to turn the caps and kercliiefs for the fair ones who work on board the boats and barges, and whom: complication of head-dress dcfics any efforts of tlic millincr’s art, and is only acquired by long practice. The little signboai‘d she put up on her first arrival at Co- pcnhugcn has bcen raked up from the obscurity where it had lain rot- ting for years in garrct, collar, or rubbish heap, and paraded before the King’s windows, to serve as a banner to the insurgents. It was the Minister Blixcn, latcly deposed, and now residing in Paris, who first made discovcry of tlic I‘lanovcrian treasure which had arrived to grace the town, He took her from the sh p, and introduced her to the corps ’de bullet of the theatre where she figured, although without much success, in the ballots the King loves best. But, howcvci‘ much she may httvc been boot on capti- vating the royal heart oven at that period, slrc might have still been dancing in the front row of the on- tree of "The I'lcrirradryads,” if chuncc had not favoured her inton- tionswand delivered the royal captive bound hand and foot, a willing, ad- miring, sclfasacrificirig slave. Oiic silent summer night the whole city of Copenhagen was aroused by the alarm of “fire,” and in an instant measures suggested by the Diet, gchs some doubt of the purity of the recur- 35' 1‘ ‘1‘: 'l' istcnr - . lkfnionlof lit” 11(11):, “ “0111 It. 1 1d the firemen were astir, the pepultr- g,‘ r) 2: nt, 2%,) tr - - r- 5110 “t”, (l (,1 “fr ,1 (n 1.01 tron afoot, and, as usual, the King _ - t *n 1 ’ “I n 7'3 l r ’ . . - . ' “9 Pm If“ upvn 1” “3‘ “Ln‘nfb O himself on the spot. I'Ile' MaJesty’s 5,. Mould is . indispensable in, every soil, and a healthy supply can alone be preserved through the cultivation ofclovor and the grasses, the turning in of the green crops, or by the application of composts, rich in the elements of the best mould. 6, All highly concentrated anio. inul manurcs are increased in value, and tlrcir-bcricfi‘rs produced by ad: mixture with plaster, salt or pulvcr-_ iscd charcoal. '7. Deep ploughing.- improves the, productive powers of every kind of' soil that is not wot. 8. Sub-soiling around land, that is, land that is not Wet, is eminently conducive to increased production, 9 All wet lands should be drained 10. All grain crops should be har- vested before the grain is thoroughly ripe. 11. Clover, as Well as the grasses intended for hay, mowed when in full bloom. 12. Sandy lands can be. most ef-. {factually improved by clay._ When ‘sucl’r lands rcquirc liming or mai‘ling,‘ the lime or marl is most anCfiCI-. 'ally applied when made into. a coin- post with clay. 13. The chopping or- grinding of' grain to be fed to. stock, operates as. a saving of at least tVchty-fivc per- ccnt, _ 14. Draining of‘ wet lands and. marshes adds to their value, by making them produce more, and by improving the health of the neigh-. l).Ol'll()OClS._ 15. To manure or- lime wetlands, is to throw manure, lime and labor away. 16.. Shallow ploughing operates. to impovct‘ish thc SOll, while it deg. creases production. 17. By stabling and shedding stock during the winter, a saving of" oneâ€"fourth of the food may be e‘f-. fcctcd; that is, one-fourth lessor“ food will answer, than when the stock is exposed to. thc incleriicncics of the weather. l l l and briglitcr World, The storm wrtlioutcontinucd, and I rctirt-d to bed that night beneath the sumc roof that she did; nor ever was it than more dccply, more pas- sionately in lch. l fore it, lnrd the appearance of bcing a favoritc; and pach of triusir: scut- tcrcd about it dcriotcd that it llttl been rcccntly lcft. Fifteen minutes or so had elapsed was still looking at tho last inctrl tioncd portrait, when the door was] opened an. Miss Morris again ctrtcr ' IN the 1m“, and at the {00, of {he Cd lhclr’mlmi' Shelmd Cll‘ll’gc‘l “Cf stairs, on the following llltll‘lllilg,g dross“ The 50"““d '“f’un‘l‘b‘s' gillg‘ aftci‘ l litid dcscrzndcd from my clittirr-. ham had been put usitlc for it ('illll' , in,- thw I had Pusscd m0 High, in since I had been lcft alonc. and I COUft'l‘Sllll‘. bric of pure and dazzling wlntcncss. refresmng and mnhflurbcd ,.,1.,,(,sc‘ 1 CHAPTER V. “THE l , r llic, waitcd at the tea-table Upon "A fine morning, srr, aftcr the storm wc lnrd last night,” he ob- Scrvcd rcspcctfully at tho szrrirc' tiznc opcniirg the parlor door for me. " llas Miss Morris :‘iscn yet I" l‘: inquired. " Yes, sir; she was up two , ago. Slic’s out a riding, sir. When the wcatlrcr is fine shc ricvcr misscsl, :rrr ()pprjn‘tunily." “ Slic is air curly riser, lllt‘ll .7" “ Yes, 'sir; very.” “ Do you cxr cct lrcr back soon I”: " Every moment, sir.” Leaving the parlor, I walked out; ty. I'Icr bust was partly cycposcd but by no means approaching to tlicl vulgar cxti'cmc which capricious fashion will sometimes assume. She :rppologizcd for having left me ultillC so long, thou cntcrcd into conversa- tion with fluency and without the least rcscrvc, i‘iotliwithstanding thc bi‘thty of our acquaintance. Thc tones of her voice wci'c silvery and her words like mustc. I'Iut‘ chocr- ful manner and freedom from rcs- traint, encouraged me. Diroctiiig her attention to the pOi‘lt‘;rlf,l i'c- marked its rcscrirblarrcc to hcrsolf. “I have concluded it to be a like- hours. l ttrgc. flowers. \Vliitc roses and red were on t {C ',. 3.7"” . .' y .'. . ' . . ..' I (“‘2 5”: She {allc’lllgl} 3‘ “(4“ ciiiths, drililius, vrolcts and ltllics. , ‘ , The bright beams of the sun wcrc wrth tours, for an instant were bent or t iragc; ’uttcrirrg a jest which crcatcd a gene- _upon the lawn in front of thc cot-Z - u I Tho air was redolent wrtlr' blooming in profusion among lira-i ‘uss,, wcrc similar to those of a person, who, for many years, has pursucd a life of activity, and is suddenly dc- privcd of crrrplr‘rymcntâ€"in plain words I didn’t know what to be at. “You’re pale,” observed my ino- tlicr, as I took my scrrtat the dinner tablc. " You didn’t fare so well at the cottage as you are willing that we should believe. I presume.’1 “I am sick, madam. ’ " Sick “I” “ Yesâ€"at my heart.” “ Of what .7” asked my father, venturing two words. “Of folly," I rcplicd. " Whose folly .3” demanded my motlicr with a look of displeasure, apprcl‘icnsivc of my being personal. "My own I” said I With crnpliasis. “But you say I am pale,” Icon- tiiiucd, speaking with a tone ofbundio " it must be the reflection ofl this white rest; after dinner I’ll tultc it off and wotrr one of scarlet thc remainder of the day.” “ Ila 1 ha! laughed Fairfax, lifting a glass of champagne to his lips, and our acquaintance. To be Continued. Tun lflltl‘l'Sll)l<j.-â€"-Tllc fire-side is a seminary of infinite importuncc.-â€"â€" Tl“.ch are few who can rcccivc the horrors of a collcgc, but all are grits duatcs of tho liczrltlr. The learning of the university may fudc from the recollection, its classic lore may mouldcr in the hi.ls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, Ulil’ amcllcd upon the heart of childhood defy the rust of yours and outlive. the more muturc but less vivid pic- turc of after years. So deep, so- lasting, indeed, are the impressions of early life, that you often see a man in the imbccility of age holding fresh iti his rccollcction the events of childhood, whilc all the wide space between that and thc prcscrrt hour is :t blasth and forgotten wastc. You have pcrchancc seen an old and halfâ€"obliterated portrait, and in the attempt to have it cleaned and rcâ€" storcd you may have seen it fade away, while a brighter and more perfect picture, painted lrcncath, is revealed to View. This portrait, first drawn upon canvass, is no in- rrpt illustration of youth ', and though it may be concealed by some ral laugh. He appeared to be in high spirits; tho thrslrcs of his wit wcrc admirable. But my poor sis.- tcr; alas! how dcjcctcd she was! As I gazed upon hci'sorrmvful court.â€" tcnance my licrrrt seemed topalpitatc as if it would burst, and Miss Mor- ris and the cottage, and the harp and lpiuno instantly vanished from my n u survivnrg it in dccuy. institution of absorbing the wet. upon the b. “PO” the POI-““m- “bile “Ilium ll ' and flowers and folnrgc gsccmcd to mind. Soul, hoart, mind, passions, . . fit‘c-sidcâ€"tlrc great :fcclnigs, \Vcrc at once absorbed in Providence for thc cducation of :illC millincr, looking so lovcly in tlic ftci‘ dcsigii, still thc original traitsitho Chutcuu of Frodcricksburg to will slritic through the outward plC- the dust. turo, giving it tone whilc fresh, and of course, odious to those who hunt Such is the him down, and compelled to return 18. A bushel of plaster per acre, sown broad cast over clutter, will, add one hundred per cent to, its, produce. 19. Periodical application ofashos tends to keep up the intcgrants of' the soil by supplying most, if not all I of the organic substances. 20. Thorough preparation of land is absolutely necessary to the suc- ccssful and luxuriant growth of". crops. . 21. Abundant crops cannot be lgrown for a succession of years, um lcss care is taken to. provide an equivalent for the substance carried off the land products grown thereon. 2'2. To preserve meadows in their productive-tress, it is necessary to burrow thorn every second autumn, apply top dressing, and roll them. 23. All stiffclays are benefited by fall and winter ploughings,but should never be ploughed when wet. If‘ at such ploughings the furrow be materially deepened, lime, marl| or ashes should be applied, 24. Young stock should be modes ratcly fed with grain, and watered, and receive generous supplies of long provcndcr, it being essential to. keep. them in fair condition, in order that the formation of muscle, bones, &c., may be encouraged and con-t tinually carried on. - 2". Milch cows in winter, should be kept in dry, moderately warm, but well ventilated quarters, fed and watered three, times a day, salted two or three times a week, have clean beds, to, bc curried daily, love of attending spectacles of this nuturc is so well known that he is: familiarly called by the Danish po- pulation tlrc “Brant Mayor of 00-! penhtrgcn.” He is always first on the scene of action, and last to rcâ€" turn homo. In this casc he found lllS reward for oncc, for in one of the rooms of the house on fire stood littlc lacc nightcap which, of course, SIC had made herself and bchuving~ with such coolncss and heroic cour- age, directing the firemen with the grcatcst sclflposscssion, and leading them to the spot where tho focus of the lll‘O cxistcd, that His Majesty, pcrhtrps detecting in such marked behaviour on the part of a woman it sympathy of taste, immediately yielded to the interest she had in-r spircd, and she rcturucd to the ballet no more. As Counless Dunner, she became highly popular, a daughter of the people. She always patron- iscd the people’s claims, and it is only of late when, although willing to elevate the pcoplc, slic opposes the intriguing which sucks to lower her to the level from which she ‘ sprung. that she has thzomo an OI)? joct of hate to her former admirers. No doubt exists of the malice, nor whence it sprung, which has lcvellcd Thc King’s refuge was, to Copenhagen, he has not been suffered to slccpa Single night in portrays was my mother.” Alas! I had touched one of the heart's most tcndcr chords. Slit: wept over the incrriory of a tICCCtlS- cd mother! But I did not then know all. That mother was indeed no more; yet the daughter wcpt over“ other sorrows than the loss of a par- cnt; other recollections thronged up on her memory. Luckily at this moment a servant tea was ready, I fo‘lowcd Miss Morris to an apartment in the op- posite side of the house, furnished equally well as tho. one I have do- scribed, though in a different stylc. A man and woman in waiting. “My father,’ ? a (servants) stood said she _ . y . wand so gratified was I at the tnena mediately preceding the tempest, tion of him, I ncarlv overturned my was now but rarely seen and only cup of teaâ€"“ departed this morning to hunt and distant glimmerings. for New York. smile as if unrufficd by the storm which had swcpt ovcr' the scumâ€"- “ so lovely the trimming slionc.” Miss blorris prcscntly rrradc her tlppCtll‘tlLCt} upon horseback, ircutly arruycd'in a riding habit and cup, returning from her customary pro- menade a charm]. Anxious to assist 'licr in dismounting.l hastened to- wards her; site hand, and leaped from the stirrup with an elastic foot. The air and exercise had irrirartcd bloorrr to her cheeks, and asl now gazed upon r her pleasant features I thought she looked still lovlicr than when at the harp the evening previous. A ser- vant took charge of the pony, and we walked into the house. Break- fast was ready. reached me her. She tossed her cap and whip upon a chair, and, invrting me, sat down to the table without You “’1” P¢,17h3”5l. drowning her dress. Engaged in a pity for my sister. â€"â€"-â€"pcrishirig-â€"-willrout an effort to save licrsclf. My emotions became 'opprcssivc, and rising from the table {18 soon as Was consistent, I hurried from her presence. \Vith a bcwildâ€" Cl‘C’l kind of tone I ordered a groom to saddle my horse, mounted with ’imrniiiciit personal risk, dashed down the road like mad. ’tccklessly I spurred. forward, I knew not wliithcr ,whcn a sudden turn in the road brought me in view of the co tagc â€".â€"â€";rnd that uvcry afternoon, Strange as it may appear to some, I was again l l l to the tones of the harp and the music of her voice. Iliavc some- Shc was sinking. seated there in the parlor, listening; mun. THE MILLINEI’» QUEEN-A ROMANCE OI“ REAL LIFE, A correspot‘rdcnt of the Jlfarning Star thus alludes to the recent dis- turbances at Uopcnhagcn,’and the agitation against the Countch Dan- 'llCl', the irrorgaiiatic wife of the King of Denmark. Ills story is very one sided. Throughout her whole lifc this lady has maintained the same tenacity of purpose which, from a millincr’s girl at Hanover, has made her so publicly acknow- lcdgcd by the King as to become a motive for revolution amongst the l r r l whch road that with a couple situa- ted as we were there is an in: definable intelligence which commu-, people. The fact of her admission .to such high rank having on nicates'to them the fact that they lare becoming dear to each other. cheerfully accepted, until the mo- ment when she chose to oppose the peace. The private friend by whom thcsc pcrticulars have been commut‘riczrtcd, adds, by way of moral to the story, that the best punishment for the pcoplc’s ingrati- ttitlc will be to, consent to what they (lClll'dlltlâ€"â€"lllc abdication of the King. M A YANKEE Entron’s DESCRIPTION or HIS COUxTnv. It would be hard to find anywhere more lawyers, doctors, co~ lonels, captains, majors and esquiics; more legislation, more half-cooked bis- cuits, harder corn dodgors, less care for expenses, more rcgai'tl for females, more goalicadativeness, more bibles and more novels, more religion and more devils, and, in addition to their long proe vendor, should receive succulent food morning and night. Full compliment of tools and implements of husbandry are intis matcly connected with the success oftlrc husbandman, 27. Capital is not only necessary to agricultural success, but can be properly used in farming as in any other occupation, W Tnc evening clouds we see are made of- dayâ€"~made ofsuch trrfles as the breath: more cleverness and more liberality, and more real independence, wilder oxen, mo‘re politeness mid gawkiness, more dangerous steainboats, unsafeâ€"banks, more pitching l | t States.â€"â€"Sm¢t.’tcm Paper, horses and awkward dancers, terance of yesterday. than in our beloved and honoured United to singing birds and singing flowers, the melting jewelry of the morning dew, the silver night dress of the rivers and the voice of prayer. It is the heaped-up tit-y Dim, blue, and beautiful, it is an enchanted mountain, though men have named it a cloud,