Newspaper Page Text
Enocil;j the father of Methnsaleh, was
translated, so that he did not see death;
therefore the oldest man that ever lived
died before his "father.
An Irishman being asked why he -wore
his stockings "wrong side out, replied,
"Bekase there* s a hole in th' ither side uv
Some dogs are kept about houses sim?
ply to give the alarm at tho approach of
burglars. - Like certain spice trees, they
?are valued only for their bark.
A Yankee bos invented a machine for
extracting the lies from quack advertise?
ments. Some of them arc never seen af?
ter entering the machine, as only the
truth comes, out.
The "Japanese, if they have been walled
in for centuries, have got sensible notions.
They have got no old maids there; when
the girls don't g;et married voluntarily,
tho authorities hunt up a husband and
make -them many willing or not willing.
Every girl who intends to qualify for
marriage, should go through a course of
cookery. "Unfortunately, few wives are
able to dress anything but themselves,
and some are not capable of even doing
that. '. . j
A Japanese nobleman, upon being
shown a fashionable plate in an American
magazine, was very "much startled and
exclaimed: "How very fat your women
Byron was disenchanted when he saw
his inamorata eating. In other words,
he faltered when youth and beauty were
"Whats in a dress ?" asks a popular
writer. Sometimes a good deal, and
sometimes precious little.
The poor fellow who couldn't hold his
own, has. been arrested for talcing some?
"Paddy, how do you like the Ameri?
cans?" "Fajth, I like them so well that
I've a mind to become a native."
A man was convicted in Kentucky of
? stealing his; neighbor's cows and hiding
them in his cellar. It was a cowardly
mode of cow-hiding.
" The only liberty-cap," says a clever
and witty author, "is-the night-cap. In
- it men visit, one-third of their lives, the
land of sleep?tho only land where they
are always free and equal."
;: The-, least said the soonest mended,"
does n?trei'er to one's shirt when it wants
repairing: for if one says ever so little
about it, you will not find it any tho soon?
er mended for all that.
The violet grows low and covers itself
?with its own tears, and of all flowers
yields the sweetest fragrance. Such is
"Who's afraid?" said a young man to
himself, in order to screw his courage.to
the sticking place. "Why, you are," said
"t?e object of his affection, "or you would
have taken courage six months ago."
Yice and folly may dull tho edge of
wit, but virtue is invulnerable; aquafortis
dissolves the baso metals, but has no
power to dissolve or corrodo gold.
A correspondent wants to know wheth?
er, considering tho great utility of the
ocean, poets are not wrong to call it "a
great waste of water?"
Success rides on every hour; grapple it,
jou may win; but without a grapple it
To keep eggs ' from spoiling, eat -them
while, they aro fresh. We have tried all
kinds of methods, but this, we think, is
the only one to be relied on in any cli?
Misery makes strange bedfellows. A
handsome young fellow recently married
a rich old lady of seventy. lie was mis?
erable for the want of money, and she
for the want of a husband.
A Huckster Outgone.?Away down
in the smart village of Cincinnati, there
vegetates a certain hotel keeper, who for
cuteness is "some" you may depend.
Having* frequently been imposed upon,
while supplying his bountiful larder, with,
articles of geese by the wide awake,
buckeye hucksters, he>'deemed it high
time to try if cheating was net a game
?tmrt4wo could play at. So one morning
bright 8.nd early, ho presented himself
before one of the numerous farmers' wag?
ons surrounding the 'market square
"I s-S"-say, friend, g-got any g-geese?"
(tho poor fellow has got Charles Lamb's
defect of speech.)
"Yes, fine lot?"
l'W-well, I've g-got up at my ho-house
the all firdest set of b-b-boys for g-geese
you ever did see, and I want to h-h-head
'em ofE a few w-with some tough ones?
can't you pick me out some old h-ho fol?
" Well, I don't know but I might find
one or two;" and so, turning over his pile
of poultry, h? collected some eight or ten
geese, whose claims to the title of "old
* he-fellows" needed no corroborative fact,
but might be pronounced clear and un?
"Mine host" eyed tho progress of sepa?
ration with evident satisfaction.
"Are those all the tough ones you've
"Yes, I vow I did not know I had so
"Well," was the reply, "I g-guess I'll
take the o-other lot."
Devices of the Fox.
A fox, on whoso track the houndf \*d
been very often laid, used always to
baffle them at one point, the crest of a
steep hill. Up to this spot the scent was
perfectly good; but at that particular
spot the scent vanished, and so the fox
was lost. One of the disappointed hun?
ters was so indignant at his repeated fail?
ures that he determined to lay aside the
chase for a day, and to devote himself to
tho discovery of tho means by which the
J creature could so invariably escape from
the hounds and men.
He therefore concealed himself noarthc
charmed spot, and watched with interest
the proceedings of the hunted ariimal.
The fox. after being driven from his cover,
led the hounds a long chase through
woods, ponds, and thickets, and at last
came at full speed toward the crest of the
hill. As soon as he had reached tbe spot
he laid himself down, and pressed himself
as closely as possible to the ground.
Presently the hounds came along in full
cry, and with a blazing scent, darting
over the hill in hot pursuit, and never
stopping till they reached the bottom of
tho hill. As soon as tho last hound had
passed, the fox resumed his legs, crept
quietly over the brow of the hill, and re?
turned to his cover at leisure.
Another of these creatures made use of
a very cunning device for the same pur?
pose. In this instance ho always led his
pursuers to the edge of a cliff that rose
perpendicular for seven hundred feet, and
then disappeared. The hunters had of?
ten examined the spot unsuccessfully;
for it seemed that no wingless animal
could venture to take such a fearful leap.
The secret was, however, at discovered
by a concealed spy. The crafty fox was
seen coming quite at his leisure to the
edge of the clilF, and then to look down.
Some ten feet below the edge there was a
kind of break in the strata of stone, form?
ing a kind of step about a foot in width.
By means of his claws the fox let himself
down upon this step, and thon disappear?
ed in a hollow, which was invisible from
above. A man was lowered by ropes to
the spot, and found that there was a wide
fissure in tho rock, to which the stone
step formed an entrance. On searching
the cavern it was found to have another
and easy outlet upon the levclj ground
above. Tho fox, however, never used
this entrance when the hounds were on
his trail, but cut olF the scent by scram?
bling over the cliff", and then emerged at
the other outlet.
TnE Gain of Advertising.?The in-.
Creasing demand for newspapers, and. in
connection with it, the extension of ad?
vertising is working a great advantage in
business, especially among retailers.?
Thirty years ago, a store, once established
was sure to keep its custom, unless its pro?
prietor recklessly and blindly neglected
his affairs; but now no establishment,
however popular, can retain its patronage
unless it advertises, and advertises exten?
sively. This is as it should be. People,
instead of running up and down to hunt
an article the)' may happen to desire, have
now only to glance over the columns of
the paper and learn at once where their
wants can be supplied. Profits, too. arc
less, in consequence of the competition;
and hence the public is supplied cheaper
than formerly. A retailer who wishes to
make a fortuno now, must expec c to sell a
hundred thousand dollars worth of goods
where he used to sell twenty-five thousand,
and to make but one quarter the profit
he did IJeuJTc.'" He-canuot continue the
old prices without losing his custom. His
only chance to outstrip his neigh bors is to
advertiso; to advertise extensively and
continually. It is useless for him to com?
plain of this, as some do, who cannot un?
derstand tho times. He must, adapt him?
self to circumstances or he will sooner or
later be insolvent. He has, indeed, but
one thing to do, and that vigorously per?
sisted in, will make him rich?it is to ad?
vertise, to advertise, and again to adver?
The Potato.?This plant, whoso edi?
ble tubers, in almost all the countries of
the civilized world, have become an arti?
cle of either luxury or prime necessity, is
indiginous to Peru, and perhaps tho
neighboring countries and Mexico. It |
may still be seen growing wild in its na j
tive habitat, where it seems to prefer'
rocky cliffs near the coast, or overhang?
ing the sea. It bcar3 a pure white blos?
som ; and the best variety is considered
the one with yellow tubers.
There is some discrepancy in the ac?
counts that speak of the introduction of
the Potato into Europe, owing to its hav?
ing been confounded with tho Potatus, or
Sweet Potato; but its introduction is
pretty generally imputed to Sir Walter
Ealeigh. Girardo, an old English botan?
ist, in his Herbal, which was published in
1597; speaks of having raised potatoes in
his garden at London, in 1590.
Potatoes are now very largely cultiva?
ted over the continent of Europe. In
France, Italy and Germany, they are an
important article of diet; and in Switzer?
land, next to Ireland, are found their
greatest consumers. About seventy yeai*3
ago they were introduced into the East
Indies, China, and the Philhppino Is; .
But the potato can never become a staple
article of produce in those countries; for
it does not thrive in a tropical climate,
unless at an elevation of about four thou?
tTse ?f the Peacock's Tail.
The beauty of the peacock's plumage
was a thems of admiration in tho remo?
test times; and the bird was sought after
as capable of adding splendor to the mag?
nificence of Solomon. The chief display
of this beauty arises from that arrange?
ment of long and gorgeous feathers,
which spring from the space between the
region behind the wings and the origin of
the tail; but the use of this to the bird
itself has been a subject of doubt. At
first sight it seems to be no better than a
luxuriance of nature, and an encum?
brance rather than a benefit. The action
hy which its splendor is outspread has al?
so been deemed an absurd manifestation
of pride. But men taro imperfect inter?
preters of the actions of animals; and a
closer examination of the habits of this
bird will afford a different explanation.
The tail of the peacock is of a plain and
humble description, and seems to bo no
other use besides aiding in the erection of
the long feathers of the loins; while tho
latter are supplied at their insertion with
an arrangement of voluntary mucles,
which contribute to their elevation, and to
the other motions of which they are ca?
pable. If surprised by a foe, the peacock
presently erects its gorgeous feathers ;
and the enemy at once beholds starting
up before him a creature which his terror
cannot fail to magnify into the bulk im?
plied by the circumstance of a glittering
circle of the most dazzling hues?his at?
tention at the same time distracted by a
hundred glaring eyes meeting his gaze in
every direction. A hiss from the head in
the centre, is attended by an advance of
the most conspicuous portion of this bulk;
v. h ich is, in itself, an action of retreat,
being caused by a receding motion of the
bird. That must be a bold animal which
does not pause at the sight of such an ob?
ject : and a short interval is sufficient to
secure the safety of the bird; but if, after
all, the enemy should be bold enough to
risk an assault, it is most likely that its
eagerness or rage would be spent on the
glittering appendages, in which case the
creature is divested only of that which a
little time will again supply. A like ex?
planation may be offered of the use of the
long and curious appendages of the head
and neck of various kinds of humming
birds, which however feeble, are a pugna?
Fiuno Newspapers.?One of the many
things which I have to regret when I
review my past life is, that 1 did not from
my earliest yonlh. at l**:i*t as so? as E
\va9 able to do it. take and preserve - ? 3 be.
| lieve the technical word is :- file*"? some
good newspaper. How interesting would
it be now to a Bc-\.ag iharian to 1-. into
the paper which lie had read when he was
twelve or sixteen, or twenty years old!
How many events would this call to mind
which he has entirely forgotten ! How
many interesting associations and feel?
ings would it revive ! What a view it
would give one of past years ! What
knowledge it would preserve by assisting
the memory! And how many valuable
purposes of a literary kind, even, might it
he subservient to ! How much do I wish
I could look into such a record while com?
posing this short article! But newspa?
pers arc quite different things to what
they wore sixty or seventy years ago.?
They are unspeakably more interesting
and valuable; in that respect, at least (I
believe in many others,) these times are
better than the. former. Formerly the
editors of newspapers were obliged to
strain their wits and exhaust their means
in order to obtain matter to fill their
| pages. Now, the great difficulty is, to
insert all the valuable interesting materi?
als that arc poured upon them from every
part of the world, and from every grade
and placo of society.
Now, newspapers contain many of the
best thoughts of tho most highly gifted
men on the most momentous subjects, and
their reports and statements are far more
accurate than they formerly were or could
be. They have repudiated the character
for lying they once had, and have become
records of truth.
Beauty and Virtue.?Beauty will pale,
but virtue is lasting. Where are the
splendid forms, and bright eyes, and
1 looming checks of the past age ? In the
du ;:. But the virtue of tho years gone
by still lives. The beauty that captivated
and destroyed kings and princes, perished;
but the virtue that burned in the Chris?
tian bosom has exerted an influence that
will never die. What did not Bunyan ac?
complish ??and Baxter ??and Knox ??
and scores of virtuous men? The beauty
of to-day in a few years will have been
forgotten, but the virtues of the heart will
not be lost. Why should we be fascinated
with one while we trample upon the
other? Where arc the flowers so beauti?
ful that charmed us a year ago? With?
ered?dead. But the rough trees remain,
and will continue to delight us and our
children for years to come. The flames
and trees arc fit emblems of beauty and
virtue in man?the former dazzle and pass
away, whilst the latter remain a perma?
nent blessing.?Olive Branch.
I Napot.kc*- IIL?Louis Napoleon is said
j tpbe by r;u;c; an I aiian, by birth a Dutch?
man^ by school saucauon.a German ,"T>y
military education i S iss, by practical
education an American, by political stud?
ies an Englishman, and by his crown a
Napoleon and Josephine.
Napoleon's acquaintance with Joseph?
ine aroue from an impression made on him
by her son, Eugene Beauharnais, then a
little boy. He came to request that his
father'*; sword, which had been delivered
up might be restored to him. The boy's
appearance, the earnestness with which
he urgod his request, and the tears which
could not be stayed when he beheld the
sword, interested Napoleon so much in
his favor, that not only the sword was
given :o him, but he determined to be?
come acquainted with the mother of the
boy. He visited her, and soon his visits
became frequent. He delighted to hear
tho details which she gave of the Court
"Come," he would say, as he sat by her
side of an evening, "now let us talk of
the old court?let us make a tour to Ver?
sailles." It was in these frequent and
familtar interviews that the fascinations of
Josephine won the heart of Napoleon.?
?'She is," said he, "grace personified,
everything she does is with a grace and
delicacy peculiar to herself."
The admiration and love of such a man
could not fail to make an impression on a
womt.n like J oscphinc. It has been said
that it was impossible to bo in Napoleon's
company without being struck by his per?
sonal appearance, not so much by the ex?
quisite symmetry of his features, and the
noble head and forehead which have fur?
nished the painter and the sculptor with
one of their finest models; nor by the
medhativc look, so indicative of intellect?
ual power; but the magic charm was the
varying expression of countenance which
changed with every passing thought, and
glowed with every feeling. His smile, it
is said always inspired confidence.
"It is difficult, if not impossible," so
the Duchess of Aabrantes writes, "to de?
scribe the charm of his countenance when
ho smiled?his soul was upon his lips and
eyes." The magic power of that Empe?
ror cf Russia expressed it when he said.
"I never loved any one more than that
man." He possessed, too, the greatest of
all charms, an harmonious voice, whose
tone? like his countenance changing from
emphatic imipressiveness to caressing soft?
ness found their way to every heart. It
may not have been these personal and
mental gifts alone which won Josephine's
heart; the ready sympathy with which
Napoleon entered into her feelings may
have been the greatest charm to an affec?
tionate nature like hers.
Iii was in the course of one of these
confidential evenings that as they sat
I together, one re?cl to him the last tetter
i she had rcccix'ed from her husband) it
j was ? most touching urev.vl!.' tf?pol'?on
was deeply affected; and it 1 lj > n said
thai; that lettor, and Jo; cphine s emotion
as she read it, had ;?. powerful effect upon
his feelings, already excited by admira?
An Eloquent Passage.?Rev. Dr.
Spring of New York preached his fiftieth
anniversary sermon-on Sunday. He clos?
ed his discourse as follows:
"The half century is gone; gone like
some small star that has been twinkling
in the curtain of the night; gone, like the
dying cadence of distant minstrelsy, as it
vanishes into the air; gone like the word
just spoken, for good or for evil, never to
be recalled; gone like the clouds which
disappear after they have exhausted their
treasures upon tho earth; gone like the
leaves of autumn, that are scattered to the
winds as they wither; gone like the phan?
tom, which, in pursuit, had a semblance of
reality, but which, in the retrospect ismelt
ed away, gone as yesterday has gone.
Why do I say here, gone? Nothing is
gone whose influcnco remains.
' The man, tho woman, the Sabbaths,
the prayers, the weeks, the months, the
the years, that some of us have beheld
vanish, one by one, in the mysterious past,
liv 5.still in God's universe. Past! What
is past? What is past? What is the mo?
mentous present??this now, this accepted
tine? What is the never-ending future??
They are but parts that make up the
ground unit of eternity? eternity that
was, and is and ever will be. All time is
a unit, where the angel at heaven's high
court records as well the responsibilities
of hearers as the responsibility of preach?
ers, and where tho great Witness and
Judge will render to every man according
to his works."
Intermarriage of Blood Relations.
?Hear what the editor of the Fredericks
burg News says about that matter: " In
the country in which we are raised, for
twenty generations back, a certain family
of wealth and respectability have inter?
married until there can not be found in
three of them a sound man or woman.?
One has sore eyes, another scrofula, a
third is idiotic, a fourth blind, a fifth ban?
dylegged, a sixth with a head about the
size of a turnip, with not one out of the
number exempt from physical or mental
defects of some kind. Yet this family
perseveres to intermarry with each other
with these living monuments constantly
Some men arc like .tea?the real .strength
an 1 goednes? are not drawn ouc of them
Some persons are above our a ngi r, others
below it; to contend with our superiors is
indiscretion, and with our inferiors an in?
Fly Time. -
Readers, were yoa ever on a hot, sticky
day driven " clam " by a pestiferous, re?
lentless fly, whom neither groans, tears,
entreaties nor slaps could move, or at
least for moro than a minute; sitting on
your nose, haunting your ears, tickling
the back of vom* neck, biting your arms,
dancing a jig on your temples, and skulk?
ing in the curls of your hair ? At length,
with one eye on tho wretch, you steal
carefully to the door, closing it quickly
behind you, and retreat to another and a
darker room, sink exhausted into the lux?
urious recesses of a friendly arm-chair,
ejaculating "now then," as yon open
your book for a dreamy revel. Buzz,
buzz, buzz! Powere of misery ! there is
your persecutor again. In vain you phi?
losophically try to despise the midget.?
One virorous tickle of your nostril sends
you to your feet with a howl of rage and
disgust. You rush into the entry, only
to meet another half-crazed member of
tl'ie family with hair on end, who has tried
every room in the house, cellar included,
and now silently comforts yon, a misera?
ble, blear-eyed, despairing wretch.
Some philanthropist present suggests
"a saucer of molasses." Good! You get
it, and locate yourself as near as posr-ible
to the treacle. The fly " puts his foot in
it," and forthwith transfers the contents
to your unhappy nose. Howl for the
second ! in which you demand the instant
whereabouts of that philanthropist, the
disinterestedness of whose proposal you
now consider open to debate. Meantime
you throw open the windows to the blaz?
ing sun, in the vain hope that its bright?
ness may lure your persecutor to an out?
door voyage. He doggedly settles on the
window-sill, with a no-you-don't expres?
sion, quite demoniac in one so young. You
throw }'our slipper at him; you grab at
him with a spread handkerchief; you flap
at him with a towel; you throw a mug of
water at him; ho has more lives than a
cat, and lights on his feet fresh as ever,
after ail your frantic assaults.
Humbled and dispirited you sit down to
think over your past misdemeanors, won?
dering for which of them you are under?
going this purgatorial penance. Was it
for bartering, unbeknown to him, your
husband's moat cherished walking-stick
on board the-boat the other day
for a country lad's most magnificent
bunch of posies ? Perhaps so. Was it
for writing stupid things? There arc
plenty moro who have done the same and
keep doing it. When one ear was boxed
was the other angelically turned for a re
j] iii of the compliment? "No?and
wl more it nevor will b-.-. because the
!. : persons to profit by such magna?
nimity were long ago gathered to their
fathers. Well, then, that point is settled,
you arc as good as your neighbors, and
considerably better than some of them.
Now, what I want to know is, if I don't
choose to keep a carriage why I should
be compelled to keep a fly??Fanny Fern.
Keep the Birthdays.?Keep the birth?
days religiously. They belong exclusively
to and uro treasured among tho sweetest
memories of home. Do not let anything
prevent some token, be it ever so slight,
that it is remembered. Birthdays are
great events to children. For one day
they feel they are heroes. The special
pudding is made expressly for them; a
new jacket, or trowsers with pockets, or
the first pair of boots are donned; and
the big brothers and sisters sink into insig?
nificance beside " little Charley," who is
six " to-day," and is soon '; going to be a
man." Fathers who have half a dozen lit?
tle ones to care for, arc apt to neglect
birthdays; they come too often ; some?
times when they arc busy, and sometimes
when they "arc nervous;" but if they
only knew how much such souvenirs are
cherished by their pet Susy or Harry,
years afterwards, when away from the
hearthstone, that have none to remind
them that they have added one more year
to perhaps the weary round of life, or to
wish them in the old fashioned ?? phrase,
" many happy returns of their birthday,"
they would never permit any cause to
step between them and a parent's priv?
Genealogy of Queen Victoria.?
Who is Victoria ? Victoria is the daugh?
ter of the Duke of Kent, who was son of
George the Third, who was grandson of
George the Second, who was the son of
Princess Sophia, who was the cousin of
Annie, who was the sister of William and
Mary. Then William and Mary were
brother and sister, were they ? Mary was
the daughter and William the son-in-law
of James the Second, who was the son of
Charles the First, who was the son of
James the First, who was the son of
Mary, who was the grand-daughter of
Margaret, who was the sister of Henry
tho Eighth, who was tho son of Henry
the Seventh, who was the son of the Earl
of Richmond, who was the son of Cath?
arine, the widow of Henry the Fifth, who
was. the son of Henry the Fourth, who
was the cousin of Richard tho Second,
who was the grandson of Edward the
Third, who was the son of Edward the
i. who was the son of Henry the
i who was the son of Matilda, who
. .. daughter of Henry tho First,-who
the brother of William Rufus, who
was the son of William the Conqueror,
j who was the bastard son of the Duke of
Normandy, by a tanner's daughter of
A Journey Under Paris.
A correspondent of a '.Swedish journal
furnishes an interesting account of a sub?
terranean voyage lhade through one of
the admirably constructed sewers of
Paris. The boat which conveyed *;;ho
party was reached by descending a flight
of steps to the depth of about forty-hvo
feet. The boat, a flat boitomed affair, was
lighted by four lamps. The sewer is an
archway, fifteen feet high, and of equal
breadth, with a ditch or canal about ten
feet wide, wherein all the dirt and filth of
Paris is earned away. On the sides are
sidewalks, which, together, are about four
feet wide. Tho whole is built of whito'-^
sandstone, and is kept remarkably neat
and clean. No stench or bad smell was
perceptible. The denser portion of. the
filth is carried away through large drains -
beneath the sidewalks. The sidewalks
are excellent and exhibit no signs of damp-;
ness, while the walls of the archway artf
kept v. hi tewashed, and are at all times as
wbite as the driven snow. The stnicture
possesses the ^properties of an immense
speaking tube, the workmen being ablo to
converse at the distance of two miles from
each other. The echo is very lasting and'
strong. The fabric is said to be built.
after a model of the catacombs of Pome, .
aided by all the latest improvements. On .
both sides at about two hundred, yards
distance from one another, are openings
through which the workmen can ascend
by means of permanent iron ladders, in
case a sudden rain storm should cause the
water to rise over the sidewalks, which
is, however, of rare occurrence.
? The contents of the sewer flow into the
river Seine, and the current i3 sufficient
to carry the boats used; along with* con?
siderable velocity. Large reservoirs are
constructed at intervals, into which tho
water can be turned for a short time in
case it should be necessary to have the
canal dry for a little while. The whole
work was completed in two years. Be?
sides tho main canal there are many mi?
nor ones constructed under the principal
streets. All of which can be made to
communicate with one another. . These
admirable underground works arc acces?
sible from the Louvre, the Tulleries, and
from all the barracks, and should the Pa?
risians take a notion to barricade tho
streets in any part of the city, the impe?
rial government, might, at short notice,
and without any person being aware of
it, transport troops, and if there is time ?
to make use of the reservoii-s. so can artil?
lery be transported in the same way'?.
There is an end to s'iooting on the sol?
diers from the windows, and a revolution
in Paris will soon only be remembered
among the things that have been, never
to occur again. Through these under?
ground passages a prisondr can easily bo
taken from the Louvre to the Seine with?
out attracting attention, and thence' sent
off by railway, which is near at hand.?
The splendid system of sewerage was oiw
of the pet Scherns? of the first Napoleon.
Recent Erected Houses.?The London
Medical Times directs attention to the cir?
cumstance of many diseases occuring^ in *
consequence of newly built houses being
too quickly inhabited. He says, that in
various parts of the outskirts of London,
a large number of now dwellings are con?
stantly being erected, and scarcely are
completed before they are oecupiod.?
Five cases of cholera which proved fatal
to persons who had recently taken newly
built houses came under his superinten?
dence, which he considered were produced
by the exhalations from the damp walls
and floors and the fresh paint. "We believe
that newly-built houses, whon tooquickly
occupied, exert a very baneful influenc -?
on the health of the occupants. From the
fresh materials which compose the dwell?
ings, deleterious exhalations arise, contam?
inating the air. Houses ought not to bo
inhabited for a certain period after their
? completion; and our medical brethren
should caution those within their influence
of the dangers to which families are ex?
posed by fixing in houses recently erected.
Hold On.?Hold on to your tongue
when you arc just ready to swear, lie, or
speak harshly, or use any improper word.
Hold on to your hand when you are
about ready to strike, pinch, scratch, steal <.
or do any improper act.
Hold on to your foot when you are on
the point of kicking, running away from
study or pursuing the path of error, shame
Hold on to your temper when you v*>
angry, excited or imposed upon, or others
are angry about }*ou.
Hold on to your heart when evil asso?
ciates seek your company and invite you
to join in their games, mirth and reveiiy.
Hold on to your good name at all times,
for it is more valuable to you than gold,
high places or fashionable attire.
Hold on to tho truth, for it will servo
well and do you good throughout etex*
Hold on to your virtue, it is above, a'l
prico to you, in all times and places.
Hrld on to your good character, for it
is and ever will be your best wealth.
The earlier the new birth, the weighfx.-.
ier will be the glory in the kingdom of fl
God. Young ones regenerated and ena' fl
bled to bear head against tho temptations; fl
of their violent natures, shall have crowni| fl
set with more jewels; they shall have aa fl
abundant entrance. ^