fe SD sk tcp oe 224, ' hen rise tegei ite hee ssi SEL LSP aeRO me tte sreiesesereiinteis Nite, ae Spree) PROSPECTUS OF THE " PROVINCIAL FREEMAN And Weekly Advertiser. The Provincial Freeman will be devoted to Anti- ' Slavery, Emigration, Temperance and General Literature. The organ of no particular Potitical Party, it will open its celumns to the views of men" of different political opinions, reserving the right, as an independent Journal, of full expression on all questions or projects affecting the people ina political way; and reserving, also, the right to ex- ress emphatic condemnation of all projects, hay- ing for their object in a great or remote degree, the subversion of the principles of the British Constitution, or of British rule in the Provinces. Not committed to the views of any religious sect exclusively, it will carefully observe the rights of every sect, at the same timé that a reser- wation shall be made in favor of an existing dif- ference of opinion, as to the views or actions of the sects respectively. As an advertising medium, as a vehicle of in- formation on Agriculture,--and as an enemy to vice in any and every conceivable form, anda promoter of good morals, it shall be made worthy of the patronage of the public. M. A. SHADD, Publishing Agent. Aut Lerrers, whether. intended for publication or on Business, must be addressed, post-paid, to M. A. Snapp, Toronto, C. W. Ca CIN GSR ak Ch PRINTING OFFICE, Adelaide Street, two doors East of Yonge St. TORONTO. THE PROPRIETORS OF THE PROVINCIAL FREEMAN Would inform their Friends and the Public, that their Office is supplied with all the Requisites for the execution of every description of BOOK &@ JOB PRENTIENE, INCLUDING _ PAMPHLETS, - BILL HEADS, CARDS, CIRCULARS, FUNERAL LETTERS, LABELS, INVITATION CARDS, STAGE BILLS, _ STEAMBOAT BILLS, CONCERT BILLS, x PROGRAMMES, POSTING BILLS, LAW BLANKS, HAND BILLS, BANK CHECQUES, DEEDS, PROMISSORY NOTES, MORTGAGES, MEMORIALS, ; &e., &., &l., And every description of LETTER-PRESS PRINTING, in the best and handsomest style, with accuracy and despatch. (<F PRINTING IN COLORS AND BRONZES. i>} Business Directory. Pee CAYLEY & CAMERON, Barristers, &c., &c., Office--~-Cuvrew Street, next door to the Court House, "% TORONTO. WILLIAM CAYLEY, MATTHEW CROOKS CAMERON. VANKOUGHNET & BROTHER, Barristers, Attorneys, &c., Ofice--Cuourcu STREET, Over " The City Bank" Agency, two doors South of St. Andrew's Church, TORONTO. Messrs. R. P. & ADAM CROOKS, Barristers-at-Law, ATTORNEYS AND SOLICITORS, WELLINGTON STREET, TORONTO. JAMES FORSTER BOULTON, B.A,, Attorney-at-Law, Conveyancer, &c. Solicitor G- Master Extraordinary tn Chancery. OFFICE ON QUEEN STREET, NIAGARA, Formerly the Office of the late Chas. L. Hall, Esq Niagara, Jan., 1855. 42-ly MR. S. S. MACDONELL, Barrister, Attorney-at-Lavw, NOTARY PUBLIC, ¢<., WINDSOR, C. W. A. B. JONES, DEALER IN Groceries and Crockery Ware, No. 313, DUNDAS STREET, LONDON, C. W. D. FARRAR & Co., IMPORTERS AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN Groceries, Wines, Liquors, &c., No. 15, DUNDAS STREET, LONDON, ©. W. ANDREW HENDERSON, Auctioneer and Commission Merchant, No. 32, Yonex Street, Tororo. Refereuces--Thomas Clarkson, Esq., President of ; the Board cf Trade; John Robertson, Esquire, Messrs. A. Ogilvie & Co.; Messrs. Howard & Fitch; Messrs. D. Crawford & Co. CHARLES FLETCHER, BOOKSELLER AND STATIONER, No. 54, YONGE STREET, TORONTO. ' British and American Works imported and for sale at the smallest possible advance upon the wholesale prices. CHARLES MARCH, > "House, Sign, and Ornamental Painter, Grainer, Glazier, and Paper Hanger, . CARVER, GILDER AND GLASS STAINER. No. 29, Kina Street WEST. 'Mixed Paints, Putty, Enamelled and Plain Win- dow Glass andLooking Glass, for Sale, at the lowest Cagh prices. Toronto, 10th April, 1854. 4 "PUNCTUALITY?! I kh. BROWN, (LATE OF PHILADELPHIA,) Fashionable Boot and Shoe Maker, _ No, 63, KING STREET WEST. All work warranted to be done in a superior style. _ Repairing done with neatness and despatch. Ea Feet measured on anotomical principles. 224 Torouto, March 18th, 1854. 2 ,wor » Poetry. From the Little Pilgrim. The Song of the Ocean Mosses, NII BY NANNIE. a We live in the sea! Oh, weliveinthesea! | And of many colors and forms are we: Where the waves break over the echoing shore, | We list to the winds' and the waters' roar. When the sea is calm, we quietly float O'er the smooth waves like a fairy boat-- But when thestorm rage and the tempests sound On the foaming billows we're tossed around. And we list to the drowning sailor's cry, 'When the vessel strikes and death is nigh ; We encircle his arms, we garland his head, As he lies at rest in his ocean bed. We dwell in the Mermaiden's gardens, where We grow, as on earth do the flowerets fair ; And as they wreath the heads of fair May Queens, do we : Deck the long, flowing locks of the maids of the sea, -- <a The Seven Ages of a Public Man. The London Punch makes the following clever parody on Shakespeare's " Seven Ages of Man." Public Life's a stage, All men in office merely players: They have their characters and salaries, And one man in his course plays many parts, And acts through seven ages. First, the infant, High-born, inheriting a coat of arms. And then the Public School boy, with his satchel, And shining lot of fag, going by rail Uncaringly to school. Then the Collegian Boating and driving, with a comic ballad, And supercilious eyebrow. 'Then the Patriot Full of strong oaths and moustached like the pard, Anxious for honor, and not disposed to quarrel With any decent situation Suffice that can one's mouth; and then the Member Quoting old saws and modern instances, In fair round paunch, with public dinners lined ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered Minister, With spectacles, and prose, and votes on side, His youthful views renounced, a world too wide For his shrunk wits, and his once manly voice, Trying in vain to hoax the people, pipes A miserable sound. Last scene of all, That ends this sad disgraceful history, Is seers Red-tapeism, sans pluck, sans every- thing. Literature: ODDIE" PWPPA LL LD PLD LL LDL The Maroons. timeeetiess CHAPTER THE SIXTH. Freme's Story. ( Continued.) « Soon after our union," continued Freme, "' we quitted the town, and went to live at St. Paul's, where we took a small cottage. It occupied a lovely position, on the borders of the beautiful lake that divides the district, and from which we commanded a view of the whole of that part of the country. Along the banks of the numerous brooklets that fed the lake, water-fow] abounded in flocks, findin concealment in the high reeds, and bulrushes, and under the large leaves of the plants that flowered on the glistening surface of the lake. Around us grew vines bearing rich clusters of luscious grapes; fruit-trees of various kinds; enormous cocoa-palms, spreading their green branches high up in the air, forming a natu- ral dome under which one might repose out of the great heat of the sun. And here we dwelt, Marie devoted her time to the affairs of our small household; to the cultivation of our garden plot, where every thing flourished under her hand; and to the rearing of ducks, geese, widgeon, teal, and other water-fowl, which after being fed in the morning, went away all day to the lake, returning at night to receive another meal from our hands. As for me I continued my callings, and was ab- sent nearly the whole day. J worked under the brothers Baptiste, shipwrights and car- penters, near the sea, and hard, too, did I labour. But I did not mind that; for when I returned in the evening, I found Marie ready to receive me with smiling face and tender caresses. I thought Heaven seemed to have sent us a special blessing." " Ah, Freme!" sighed Marie, "if we could have continued to live out of the reach of evil-minded men." "Our marriage could not long be kept secret; we felt that," resumed Freme. "The rumour soon became current throughout our part of the country that a negro, a slave too, had married a white girl. Now this was a calumny, calling mea slave. I belonged to the class specially protected by Govern- ment; had never been regarded-as--a slave, and by the laws and the ordinances abolish- ing the slave-trade, could not be ranked with the slave population. But this fact seemed not to have the slightest weight. I was black, and that sufficed to arouse the fifrious prejudice against color and caste, which is one of the direst curses of the colony. The tempest commenced. « T had been accustomed from infancy to encounter and to despise the insults, the con- tempt, and the numerous petty annoyances which men of my class meet with at the hands of the privileged whites in these parts, I despised them stil], though they became now more and more pointed and malignant, and notwithstanding that they calumniated one who was dearer to me than life. But I abstained from making her unhappy by re- vealing to her the cruel sufferings I endured. Soon, however, from rude words our enemies passed to violence. They waylaid me fre- quently, beat me, and otherwise ill-treated me; till one day, my patience being exhausted and my temper roused, I fell upon two of | my assailants and severely punished them both. I could easily have killed them, for | I was stronger than they. Thank God I did not. Asit was, I awakened the spirit of revenge against me. " We were now assailed more boldly and openly, Our enemies did not hesitate to attack us in our modest habitation. They would assemble in bands and set upon us at dead of night, yelling and howling fearfully under our windows, and making the most frightful noises. They also threaten to kill us. They called us sacrilegious monsters, and swore they would hang or burn us. 'Several times they attempted to set fire to our dwelling.. Even the police authorities to whom I appealed for protection, connived at and encouraged their wicked doings. Poor Marie's life became one of constant torment. Her agitation of mind was incessant; her fear permanent. She implored me to quit the place. She was terrified lest I should be murdered, and she herself be left to the brutality of a fierce mob. Day after day she urged me to leave every thing behind and take to the woods, where, she said, we might at least live in peace. I hesitated. How could I make up my mind to expose' her to a life of hardship such as we must encounter if I did her bidding ? For my- self I cared not? But when I thought of her, I trembled! At length matters reached such a point that I durst no longer stir from home at all. Both our lives were in im- minent danger from day today, and I made up my mind to follow her suggestion, and place ourselves beyond the reach of our enemies. One night, when by some chance we were unexpectedly left to ourselves, we abandoned the cottage where we had spent so many happy hours, and leaving behind us every thing we possessed, took to the woods. I carried Marie, for she could not walk, and we made our way painfully to the summit of the mountain. For days we wan- dered about from thicket to thicket, from precipice to precipice, allaying our hunger with wild fruits and herbs, and lying down to rest under the thick bushes. I could not describe our sufferings: unaccustomed to this mode of life, aud ignorant of the locality, we must soon have perished. Indeed we already began to contemplate the approach of death under those circumstances us a happy ter- mination to our troubles. Still it was a bit- ter prospect to die thus, a lingering death, without a soul to close our eyes or to tender the last consolations of religion. i " But one above was watching over us. Providence was there, and unknown to us, a friend was near, who followed us in our wan- derings; one who like ourselves, was a victim to the prejudices of the colony. To be continued. =-- =-- Miscellaneons. From the Saturday Evening Post. The Priest that Wouldn't Stay Unmarried, Biddy McCan is a treasure to us, for be- sides being an excellent housekeeper, she is full of humour, and can tell a story much better than I can transcribe it. Among the number with which she hath amused us, is--" The Praist's Marriage Itself," which I can never hope to give you, as she gave it-- it will want the natural drollery of her looks and tones while relating it. 'The occasion was this: One morning, while we were still at the breakfast-table, in the cottage parlour, and the doors and windows were open upon the garden, a beautiful little white lap-dog strayed into the room, and at a very slight invitation, leaped into my lap. '©Q ! what a loving little darling !" said the children--and "Oh! what a pretty creature it is!" said their mother. While the little fellow began in the most sociable spirit to exhibit all his accomplishments, such as jumping down and standing on his hind legs, holding out his paw to shake hands, etc. '¢ J wonder who he belongs to? I wonder if it would be possible to buy him?" said I. "Faix thin, indade, and it. wouldn't ma'am, for himself is Feyther Mory's own dog, and the misthress wouldn't be afther taking his weight in gold for him." "The mistress, Biddy ?" " Ave, sure, ma'am, jewel, it's Misthress Mory itself, I'm afther spaking iv." «And who is Mistress Mory ? the priest's mother ?" " Indade, no, ma'am, for it's the praist's wife, itself." a "The priest's wife!!" I am an ultra Protestant, yet I was shocked--I looked so, I suppose, for Biddy hastened to explain. " Och, sure, darlint, it's no praist he is at all, at all, at this prisint spaking, forbye, it's atther being called a praist he is!" " Why is that, Biddy 2?" I inquired, feel- ing quite sure that thereby hung a tale, and that Biddy could tell it. | ? "Well, thin, for the love of Moses in the bulrushes, honey, hev yese been rasiding in this same thra whole years widout iver hear- ing spake iv Feyther Mory's marridge ?" "It is too true, Biddy--but enlighten me now." "Ts it afther bidding me to open the shutters, that ye are? Sure they're all open--it's your sight itself, that's failling iv ye, darlint." "No, Biddy, enlighten the darkness of my mind; tell me the story of the priest's marriage." "Sure, and arn't that always \the way wid yees? afther heving me lave the work to be telling yees stories? Indade, and it is to ruin, everything in this blessed house will be going? Sure, thin, and I shall be afther making short work iv the same." "Of the ruin, Biddy?" « Sure, ye'll be iver taking meself up wed my spache, and heving yer own joke--sure, e know very well it's the praist's marridge Yin afther maning." 'Well, go on and tell about it." " Faix, thin, honey, I'm gomg to do the same. Well, thin, ma'am ye'll be knowing that he--the praist itself, "m spaking iv-- was a poor boy. Heeuthered the saminary as a sizether, which manes.a poor scholar, honey, darlint, that is to recaive his edica- tion fray gratis, for the Lord's sake, besides geshis taiching for nothi: _<+ Well, he was ¥--oh! Honey, he was a fone, handsome, full-blooded, lusty, young fellow, as ever F you see--but more becomingst the plowgh- tail, nor the howly praisthood itself! Only you see he took wonderful to the larning all the time, and nothing would serve him but a praist itself he would be. It was all upon the account of the pride and ambition that was in him, do you see? Well, the feythers in the saminary seeing he was so set upon it, forbye being so wondefrul bright wid the Latin and mathematters, said he would be a credit to the church, so he would, and they consinted to. recaive him, so they did, and put him in the training for howly. praisthood. Faix, and it must be a hard latther to climb to rach that same! For, first iv all, they pit him on a long probashum, and thin a long novishiate, and thin a weary retrait, forbye the fasts, and vigils, and prayers, and miditatshuns, and innishiashuns, and howly offices, before he could take one step up the latther-- maning one dagrai in howly orders. And thin a rapitition of the whowl, before he could take another step, and so on, till he had worked his weary way up to the top of the latther, maning the praisthood itself. |. Well, sure, betwain one thing wid another, it took himself years before he got widin one step of the top. Faix, thin, and at last the blessed day itself came, whin he was to be complated a howly praist out and out entirely. And wasn't there the hoighest iv rejoicing among all the family and the friends that belonged to him! all but Mary Miller, the craythur who lived on the other side of the road, foreninst the saminary, and crying the two pretty eyes out iv her head; but sure nobody minded her, for wasn't the whowl town aad counthry assimbled the- gether to be prisint at the cirimony of the consecreetion ? and the praists, and bishops, and the archbishop himself to the fore? So niver a soul heeded Mary Miller, piping her eyes. Only look now what befel! The Lord have a hand in us! but that young thafe ought to have been drumed out of town." «What young thief, Biddy? Mary Miller ?" "No, sure it's the praist itself that was to be--maning Feyther Mory--av coorse-- for look! whin all was riddy the same morn- ing he was to be complated a praist enthirely --what do you think he was missed! and couldn't be found high nor low! and whin he was looked for, it was discivered he had run away wid Mary Miller! and whin they found him, the spalpeen! he was marrid enthirely, and not a sowl to privint it! Howly St. Pather! but the hour I heard it, if the strength didn't lave me body enthirely! Hullaboloo ! if there wasn't a row outside, among the frinds and the praists and the lave of thim! Och, thin, indade honey, Donnybrook Fair was a tratty of pace to the likes of it!" . 'How did they get on after that ?" " Paix, thin, darlint! it was a pithy for the poor craythurs--so it was! The church forbid them communion. No sowl would look at him. Her people all forsook her-- the bit of a colleen! she was nothing but a child, and she took their unkindness to heart wonderful--it preyed on her mind--so it did! till it wore her away toa skeleton. She began to think she had committed the onpardonable sin, in marrying a man intind- ed for the howly alther! and she pined away--so she did! till she was nothing but skin and bone. And all he could do and say couldn't comfort -her--so it couldn't! for she made answer that the Lord had cursed her. They were wonderful poor, too, for no one would give him employment, and no frind would be a frind to her. So betwane one thing wid another--the young craythur! she wasted away until, when her trial came, she hadn't strength to go through wid it-- and she died--so she did ! she and her young baby. And afterwards her frinds all said they knew it would be so before- hand, for it was a just judgment, for bieng afther marrying a man intinded for the howly praisthood itself." "Poor girl! And he?" "Och, darlint! it would have made the heart of yees sore to have seen the poor, distracted craythur. Sure for days and nights, on to weeks and months, he moaned and groaned, and wept and wailed like a lonesome sowl in purgatery. He said he had destroyed her sowl and body--so he did!--and that it was the ritribution of Heaven on him. And oh! he prayed and fasted, and humbled himself before the church, and did penance, and said he want- ed to be a praist before the alther--so he did ! that he might atone for his own sin and 'hry to get her sowl out iv purgatory. Well, at first they wouldn't listen tothe likes of him--so they wouldn't! but at long last they consinted to recaive him on trial, thinking by the same token, that his graifs had been alesson to him. Well, thin, faix, it was all to do over agin! I mane the prob- ashun, and the novishiate and the retrait, forbye the fastings and the vigils, and the prayers, and meditashuns, and all the howly cirimonies and blessed innishiashuns, only a great deal longer than they were before, because of his falling off, d'ye see? Well, in the mane time years slipped away, and the ould sore in his heart began to heal---so it did! Faix! they'd better made sure iv him whin they could get him! For by the time the blessed day rowled round whin be was to be consecreeted a howly praist before the alther, he had rekivered his spirits, and was looking as well as.ever. And #0 whin the the morning came, and the frinds and releetions were gathered together, and the praists and. bishops and archbishops itself waiting riddy to complate him in the praist- hood--whisht, honey !| but he turned round --the villen! so he did--and he marrid a. great two-fisted Yankee widder, wid two half-grown bhoys as big as herself!" "Howly St. Pathrick ! Biddy ! and what did Mother-Church do to him then?" "Sure, she did nothing at all to him! Faix, and what could she de wid the likes of him, at all, at all? Sure, she let him alone, soshe did. Troth! wasn't the bishop him- self that said Misther Mory had no call to the praisthood? and that the sperrit indade was wake but the flesh was willing? Sure all mothers have a soft place in their hearts--" "--Or in their heads, Biddy--" "--And Mother-Church was no ixciption to that same. So afther kaping him at a rispictful distance for a while, sure she open- ed her arms and recavied him Back to her bosom, and aftherwards provided for him like any other mother would. Faix, the bishop himself said--so he did! that if Misther Mory had no vocation for the howly alther, he would make an illigant taicher itself--and so they made him masther of the parish fray school, which same he. is: at the prisint spaking," " And the family and friends-- did they receive his wife 2" "Qh! the big-fisted widder? Sure they all saw at cnce that it was no use to thry to kill the likes of Aer wid iil-traitment--and they soon diskivered her to be a wonderful foine woman enthirely--so they did! And this is her little dog. And now I must wash up the tay things ! ----_ @S- te From the Woman's Temperance Paper. American Ladies' "My son," said Mr. N., ' How could you marry an Irish girl?" ' Why, father," said the son, 'I'm not able to keep two women--if I'd married a Yankee girl, I'¢ have had to hire an Irish girl to take care of her." There is a biting sarcasm and a fearful | truth hidden in the above little scrap which we caught as it floated on the surface of the tide of newspapers. Who can wonder while looking at the pale-facea languid women one meets on every side, that a man would feel it a terrible risk to take such a one for a wife. Lotions, cosmetics, and rouges can- /not conceal entirely the pallor of disease, or the langor born of enfeebled constitutions, even though these creatures of hair-cloth, and grass-cloth and padding, and laces, with their sweeping robes of costly tissues, pro- duce the effect of matchless forms of rarest grace. Many of them would look upona natural waist as an actual deformity, and so with their murderous appliances of steel, and whalebone, and silken cords deadly as the hangman's rope--they bind down the elastic framework of their bodies, and press the delicate organs of life, that hence- forth ery continually in their own fearful language of pains, and tremors, and sleep- lessness, and indigestion, " give, give room, give air, or we perish, and you perish with us." God pity these women say we--these sui- cides--they have placed themselves beyond mortal aid! Sufferings is their lot. and help- lessness and continual reproach if they have dared to think. What creatures for wives and mothers. Ah, these are the mothers of the little wheyfaced, or sallow puny creatures, who, tricked out in all the bravery of fashion, look out from behind closed windows upon the passers by, or walk solemnly beside their nurses in the street. There is nothing of the activity and hilarity of childhood about these little beings, whose fine light hair tortured into curls, and the unnatural blueness 'of whose complexions tells of a scrofulous diathesis. 'They look premature- ly old--they soon fade away--the fashion- able mammas look interesting for a little time in their mourning weeds--little graves accumulate in churchyards and cemeteries --and the newspapers have lengthy dis- quisitions upon the terrible mortality of infants. Of course, if a man "marries a Yankee girl he must hire an Irish girl to take care of her." Fortunate man if one Irish girl suffices for the demands of the helpless creature! And it is refreshing to look from the pale mistress to the rosy Irish girl, even though she may be coarse or even a little gross in appearance. Health bounds in her veins. There is strength and pewer in her muscles. 'They have been developed by hardier exercise than thrumming the harp or fingernig the pianoforte. But the men--at least the younger ones --full two-thirds of them, are as puny as the women. What the next generation would be--other than a generation of mouldering little bodies in tiny graves it is difficult to say, unless some of the young men, like that sensible fellow chronicled above, do marry with these healthy Irish and German girls who can not only take care or themselves; but their houses, their husbands, and their children. They cannot be more ignorant of the laws of life than most of their educated sisters, and they have the advantage of healthy constitutions. The ignorance of physiological and hygienic laws among educated women would be amusing were it not so pitiful. If, by a atrange accident, one of the poor creatures happens to know anything so useful, she is ashamed to have any aware of the fact. No lady who possessed a cage of canaries would be ashamed to know their wants-- what food was proper for them--what > ae ni treatment necessary during the processes of moulting and incubation--what care de- mands for the well being of the little fledgings, &c., &c. But to know anything of the anatomy and physiology' of the human body---how indelicate! To know what food and treatment is best adapted for the children by her fireside--~how im- proper! We were amused and yet pained to hear a few days since of the remarks of a Jady moving in the best circles of this city whose | name, among other influential ones, had been lent as trustee of an Hospital for Women. She acknowledged in a whisper toa lady physician that she was much in- terested in physiology, but she would not have her physician know it for the world, nor one of her social circle. And she is a sickly woman whom, a little knowledge ac- quired years since, might have saved from long years of suffering. And with all her wealth, her refinement, and education, not one whit happier is she, not one whit better fitted for many of the most important duties of life than the "Irish girl " who takes care: of her." =-- Agricultural, $c. Hay for Cows in Summer. An observing, intelligent, and successful | farmer informs us that he is in the practice of feeding his cows with hay in summer, par- ticularly if,the season is such as to afford flush pastures. His reasoning-is, that a full, rapid and vigorous growth of grass gives to cattle that feed upon it, a desire for some- thing to absorb the excess of the juice in their food. Dry hay they devour greedily, and though in ever so small quantities, evidently with the most beneficial effects. Every far- mer must have observed that in dry seasons, horses, cattle and sheep keep in good condi- tion upon herbage parched and apparently scant, while in wet seasons, in tall pastures, though always full, the process of fattening with them was slow. Dry fodder in such cases is required to give substance and tena- city to the green, and can be profitably used by feeding it to horses and cattle.--New- burg Telegraph. Strawberry Beds. Strawberry beds should be kept clean and free from grass and weeds--also the runners should be kept down till after the fruit is gathered. The ground close around the plant should not be disturbed any more than may be necessary to ensure clean culture. Frequent and profuse watering, in case the weather should be rather dry, will be very beneficial--¢t will pay well for the labor expended in the superior per- fection, beauty and size of the fruit. Before the fruit ripens, cover the ground between the roots with clean long straw-- if such an article can be found after so se- vere a winter--or a coat of spent sand or saw dust will answer the two-fold purpose of keeping the ground moist and save the fruit from being spattered and defaced with mud, in time of rain. Plaster should never be applied to straw- berries--we tried the uséful commodity on part of a strawberry bed once, and had the satisfaction of beholding a very luxuriant growth of foliage,' but they produced noth- ing but foliage. It wa» applied when the plant was in blossom. We propose to make some other use of our plaster in future. We understand it has been observed to have a similiar effect when applied to apple and other fruit trees when in blossom. If this is so, it would be well for persons about to sow plaster in orchards to avoid do- ing so, when the trees are in bloom.--Onta- rio Co. Times. ee Cheese Making. A few months ago I visitied a lady friend in the country. Her table was continually supplied with most delicious cheese, of her own making. I asked as a particular favor, that she would communicate to me her peculiar method of making it, and wherein she differed from others. She replied that she followed' the method she had been taught, generally prepared the rennet in the same way, but felt sure that she had dis- covered the reason why cheeses were strong, both to the taste and smell, which consists in the single circumstance of putting the curd to press warm. She did not use any artificial means to cool the eurd, but after it had been chopped and _ scalded, allowed it to remain spread upon the cloth until it was cool as the surrounding atmos- phere, and thus put it to press. There is a great deal of probability in the above statement, for I have frequently no- ticed that some cheeses from the same dairy would be strong and offensive, and others mild and agreeable, which may be owing to the circumstances of dairy-women getting their cheeses to press early some days, and being hindered others until the curd had time to cool. It may be well for dairy-wo- men to try the experiment, so as to ascertain the fact.--lV. £. Farmer. ° -- ~~ 7s Beet Root Vinegar. In these times of a scarcity of apples and cider, the following statement made by N. P. Fairbanks, in the Boston Cultivator, is worth considering. He says:--The juice of one bushel of sugar beets, worth twenty-five cents, and which any farmer can raise with little cost, will make from five to six gallons of vinegar, equal to the best made of cider or wine. First, wash and grate the beets, and express the juice in a cheese-press or in any other way which a little ingenuity can suggest, and put the liquor into a barrel; cover the bung with gauze and set iti mia them. jored slaveholders make sun, and in fifteen or twenty days it will be| g¢ieraiiy, worse masters than white ones, best fit for use. By this method the very j So Gien | 'furnished without them. The mode ia which | man out of whom Ubrist expelled the devils who were permitted to go into the herd of of vinegar can bé obtained #ithout any great. trouble, and I hope all who like good vinegar will try it.--Sat, Evening Post. -- ae een = Pickled Eggs. In the counties of Hants and Dorsst,- pickled eggs constitute a very prominent feature in the farmshouse and store-rédémsy insomuch that they would be considered by the industrious housewife but indifferently --~ the good dames pickle theui is simply thtte¢- At the season of the year when. their stock of eggs is plentiful, they cause some four of six dozen to be boiled in a capacious siués- pan until they become quite hard. They then, after removing the shells, lay thent cares fuily in large-mouthed jars, and potir over' them scalding vinegar, well seasoned witft whole pepper, allspice, a few races of gingers Id and a few cloves of garlic. When ¢old they are bunged down close, and in a month are fit for use. Where eggs are plentiful, - the above pickle is by no means expetistvey and as an acetic accompaniment to col meat, it cannot be outrivalled for piquancy nd gout,-- Sat. Evening Post. Andrew Marshall, the Negro Preacher. | On Sabbath morning F attended divine service at the Presbyterian church, of which the Rev. Dr. Preston is pastor;--be was absent, and his place was supplied by a New ~ England minister. The building is very fine, of granite brought from Maine, and the interior is a noble temple. In the aftertioor I determined to hear the renowned Andrew Marshall, the veteran pastor of the African Baptist church. This scldier of the cros# has a world-wide fame, and a Yery interest- ing notice of his pulpit services may be found in Charles Lyell's travels. Mr. Marshall's church is a fair old building, and in its interior much resembles « New England old country meeting house. ; I looked upon the congregation, and noticed that the audience without exception -- was well-dressed; the women chiefly wore head-dresses of Madras handkerchiefs though many had bonnets, and most of them wore gloves. . Mr. Marshall, I should observe, is in his 100th year, his hair as white as - snow, his covhtenanse mild, without any wrinkles to mark decrepitude or decay. | His voice is one of great sweetness and power; he read lis hynin without spectacles, and such reading ! In sober truth, | know no Northern Doctor that can read as well. It was read as Staughton used toread, and those who remember that style of giving out psalmody will long to hear Andrew Marsball. cli I came to church expecting to hear a wreck of a preacher--a negro preacher-- I found in the pulpit a master in Israel. Age has not touched his faculties, his mind is as, vivacious, and its workings are as true and faithful as are the intellects of men of thirty or forty years of age. He preached for an hour an expository sermon on the i } swine. Mr. Marshall's sermen will remain in my memory, associated with. the dis- courses of great men. 'The exposition was scriptural, argumentative, full of inragination and abounding in wit, yet all in keeping with the place. I was reminded all through the sermon of three great preachers in the old country, each eminent in his peculiar way. Irefer to Rowland Hill, Christmas Evans and William Jay. Marshall has much of the wit which corruseated from the desk of Survey Chapel, while the graphic sketching of the Welch Demosthenes, and the, admirable colloquial style of Jay are found all through the sermon. This noble preacher had more points of power in that hour than I have heard in any sermon for five years. [I regard him as the most astonishing preacher I bave ever listened to, when bis age, his social position, and his illiteracy are all considered. No pulpit in New York or Boston but would have been : honored by sucha sermon. The lim'ts of - a letter will not permit me to give an out- ' line of the sermon, but it will live in my memory, and its illustrations would have . been a stock in trade for a tyro in theology, s and many a sprig of divinity. Mr. Mar- ; shall's voice is euphonious, his manner dig- 4 nified. Nothing but his white hair indicates Be his age, and I should never have supposed ' him more than sixty-five, had I not been informed. I must not forget his prayer; it was man talking with God, reverently wrestling with God.--He saw the portals of the city--he had been often at its gates, and it seemed as if he knew the holy ones. Among the hearers were several white ladies and gentlemen, and I was glad to meet there with the Hon. Francis Granger and his daughter. They both unite with me in my high appreciation of the preacher, and - Mr. Granger told me that he thought the reading of the hymn was one of the most impressive exhibitions of sacred oratory he : had ever witnessed. Mr. Marshall drove General Washington from Virginia to Savannah, and he observed that during the entire journey he never saw him smile.--Baplist Recorder. os We learn from respectable parties, from Georgia, that the Rev. Andrew Marshall, the " negro" preacher, spoken of above,in addition to his other good qualites,is a s}ave- holder--he having in his possessi more than one dozen human beings. "The Rev. gentleman, good busines: "fpan that he is, keeps several drays, gzdiowns every man that | this Kroary sinner may be like the rest & Sa