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farm. Garden, and Household,
< 'ONI>UCTE1> NY PUTNAM SI MONTON. i . i».ir friends who may have communication?, ob .•\'ui'*ns, facts, suggestions, or anything of interest, i,lining to this department, are request! d to commu . t: the -an** to Dr. Putnam Simonton, Star-port, who prepare the same lor publication, il ol sufficient im- ; irt ince, _ I FERTILIZERS. I O' i_iv.it want, I*if in »*t soils. i< cheaper and mure , i nit fertilizers. (live the-c. and the fortunes , ; ;\ a tors is mail'-. lienee countless ships bring r.dt freights of guano from tin* ends of th - a: while chemists and numberless inventor* ply hu*y wits to make nrtili«*ial manures. \ii th-.-s • are well—even indispensable in the pro.- . condition of tiling": hut by reason of their lim : ia* ans. to most cultivators they are entirely im- , ;i;ti.U‘. Those, having only the trivial dressing i, d hv a small amount of !i\ e Mock. produce lit i,v little, never accumulate. and wear out their ,r\ li\ u; ’be endU**> tv- ad-mill of life. |<i all such, ami to oven body f-r who :• Mot pl\ interested ill tbe great food question? We ; >a> that .scores of dollars in every family, j in even neighborhood, thousands in every i:■ I town, are running to waste, utterly lost, v v ,i■. in the tilings to winch a little attention. 1 i s.Mtvciy any cost, might convert into valuable j n. tliii' greatly augmenting both i*r«vliu*tion ; the healthfulm ** of the pl:u a* heretofore •!:o\V». : Ii .. man. in tin* majority of ca--., ha- a . ,d. or oile r place washed by a stream of water, ; v - sur- ta pm hi- barn and ail hi- m .mire depo--1 \ ,-r if; ami ii there are limie of the-e natural .. vrmienrr- for carrying oil'the be-t part of his , .-mg, lie n a ditch i- dug to let it into the street, j . halt day’s ride we ean find hundreds of just a place-,, wh-'-e occupants sadly complain that i >, rail l>r--dllee but little for w a. ut m' dressing. and tll.d buy tie -e e., fie common ial matmn if th«*y in1*!. \ mule i-and -till greater lo--. even wle-re barn ,r- an it-- l wbieb ar rare. i> in tie e-enpe <»f . ra-i - f. 'tn the heme ry. the -tails of the stock. < ne- _t. at it-- m animal manure is t«> furni-h , iriii ]i- called nitrogen which exi-ts largely in . ,-i plants, especially in their - -I-, a- in oat-, potato.---. ye. This nitrogen clement is in i ,,-t, larif.-r proportions in the urine than in I hr* , xerements, and goe- otT in the form of am-! a,a, that which gives the peculiar odor to sta-1 lo guano, y>-. 11» n* e the «--i ape of the iniro iii till- ammonia eaust - tie- lo-- of tin* most val- j ie pari of mauma : w that the wry -.me- thing ’ yd, allowed to p:\s- into tie- aimosple re and lo a,.!,:- a- !•' «• an otfen-e lo the -i n.--- and >. Miiiirv t«. ii 'dih. ;• 11.-• "lie e.iielly you buy back i iinrnioi|- i M-i in rnano and other fertilizer-. .- ii w hy noi -:tv. it mi y »ur premise-, and save ii money. t"-«; Nothing i- easier: for nature .\ides . le-ap and ea-y ne an- in all her works. ■»!'.• art 11 has been found to be a most etheient ab M-ut of tho-c gases, retaining them any length of , for manurial purpo-< -. am! lvnderiuir them in r ii- on tlie -wede-t -oil. Jla\c mi hand, then, .11p111 v of pel l- < tly dry earth, tin- liner tlie better m h ,. Mims mads in a dry time, and ,-livw this 11• • I**■ v<-1* you find the ammonia ari-ing, even in the • i-e commode-, of which subject, earth elo-els, • s!.all -peak in future No., and you will reap a >, harvest both o|V..mfoi*t and pmlil. but. mind, ,rt!, must !»•• dry to be of any avail; because a tliing- cannot Jitl tin- -aim* place at the -atne 1 me, the earth cannot ab-orb tin* ga-e- if it is tilled ! . it 11 water. • . io.». .*f tie many tinny-. which arc found in j m i ;jmtut t hoii-ciiolti. and containiny ia.rycly - I.'in. nt- -o --niia! a- plant fond—a*h< ■ • 111 - - -knll-. hair, )■• ithcr. oid nmi'iar, refuse lime hou.-e slop-, and th«l lieli materials of that • ii . apjleitdaye to every dWelliny, ltow a iUli • • mine of wealth if properly utilized: all 1,11 ’ in!'-- in ten, arc lost, and w or.-e, heeau-e ■ health and decency. when, eomposliuy . uni liy-plaee w itii mm k. -od- or -oil, . )iit• i■ ... uMiliin.y hut a little labor, they would II a d'v--iuy nearly e<iual to yitano, and far bet dian niM-i of the c.istlv patent fertilizer*. I -ni tli"" -"'iree* alone there can be no doubt : y'. per >■ i■;i «.f the manured -uh-tauer*. in 1 cMmnmniiy, nv utterly and nerdle—ly lo t; ' one.- in awhile a- a thief -;. •; 11 -. hut \ >ry nm- ' ii ntyoinyrm. And with sueh a waste of capital, , any wonder that farminy i- thoiiyht to | ay les i than most other employment*, so that the my men of the former are leaviny it for the iat Let a -hip. .-lore, bank, factory, or any -imi 0 iliiny in the world, -oifer hut half thi- annual o . -, alld tll'-y would never Iii:i!.i O \ id' . '"id • .imp!41e 1 v fail in a very ;• vv ymr-. Vet nature ha- kindly prov id- d 1 fiat noiliiny -hall lo-!. Tliesriiva-mv-. vv"i-di' d aw ay hy the rain*, ■ok- and liver-, lind their way into tin ocean to mi- tie- fund of marine plants and animals. . m their turn, a- sea-weed, shell and lish— yuano i- mostly only mummyized ii-li—may ■ nr back to lertiliz. the land which once rejected 1 m. Sr a-weed and fi-li a- manure, vw re*crve ■ r a future article. lint with all i.«> -iblc economy in the-e thing-, iI,• • i wili -till 1. a ili-muml for all the fertilizers •ii-di j''n'M b- i- in vein* *r- am! disco\ er. r-1-an fumi-h. n I any -mh ar i"\\ uih-r-d f>r -aV. Am! among iiI ill !vm»\v of tl *n-\ except perhaps pure ; .no, " mu li entitled to eottiidenn- a- lm. i iiMsi'itAr::i* Fvt.u. l-l.wi> <.i v.\->. prepared id for -ale ill thi- city . hy J. If. K.d< r. K-q. Saui - -.f thi- ha\e he: li analysed by f>r Have-, till a—aver of Ma-s., who says of it . ■ It i- an « \ • 1 lent combination of matter, and will he found . lily beneficial to all kinds of soils, • a much • • - ded fertilizer.” Thi- we should infer from it in posit ion — ammonia, hone phosphate » f lime, vid other salts of lime and -odn and pota.-h. Sonic the prominent fanner-ol thi-comity have tried ad highly recommend it. We have ordered a -apply of it for our garden tt.-o. and shall report it lie t in due time. There i- thi- al-o in it-favor, limt Mr. Kuler is a re-pon-ihle and reliable man. nd would put nothing upon the market (hat does ’ have the money's Worth in it, and cannot -land requirements of the law. For, at tin last se en of ottr last legislature a much needed law vva- ' i -e 1 *• to prevent fraud in the -ale of commercial untie-”: which i- in substance that every parcel 0 -u‘11j manure <»i :.u hhls. and upward-, shall have up m ii tli natn* and place of bu-ine—, ol the mau utaeturer or ‘•eller, and the per rentage it contains ot both soluble, and insoluble phosphoric arid, and jenmonia; that when these article- fall below what the label state, -aid manufacturers or sellers nail he lined ten dollars for tile lir-t, and twenty c'llur- for the second and each subsequent offense; ■ l that the purchaser may recover from the .-idler. ' vents for every pound of soluable phosphoric arid: 1 nts for the insolu hie. and ho cent- for cv erv 11». i ammonia detieient therein. ORNAMENTAL TREES. In the i'll*-1 stages of .soviet} wliere. how to subsist, * i he great question, the useful must always prevail «’\<t the ornamental; taste he in abeyance to mat lei - "t more utility; home, for these reasons, to lx* nclr .11 1 to go iinombellislual. lienee the reason f iai < i l\ settlers left not a tree standing of all our \.t-i loiv-t.s. merely for beauty and adornment, hut II. ele boon . field and n.ad-idc barren of these, as t je wilds of Sahara. With large means come tastes, and the desire to m ike home attractive, better buildings,and improv ed surrounding*; among which the latter is. with imn h cost and trouble, repairing these earlv mis takes, by bringing hack again the forest to occupy slid adorn the spots whence the men ly useful |,.„| banished it. tattle by little much has been done, an i is doing, to repair this error, so that most homes in our villages and small cities, are now ui a le cheerful and happier by the living beaut} of a bade trees. In the country, however, this b too uni h neglected, especially on the time-honored old homestead, which ought ever to he able to repeat the song— “The dearest spot on earth to me;** blit which by their needless dreariness, the total ab M‘U *c of these outside embellishments whose “beau tv is a io\ forever,** to he had without mom-v and without price, drive out the hoys and girls to find j el-ewhere the soul-food for which they yearn. As a \ast means of happiness, tin m. and of profit, , in all the material and spiritual aspects of life, we would -ay adorn and make glad tin homestead, whether it he elegant or humble, by setting out suit- j aide shade trees now, this very spring; to be abb j ing to you Mini to your descendants; to add 2b per ' rent, to its market vain.- if you want to sell. But there is a great deal both in the choice <fj -hrubbery and the way of doing the thing. A> to kind-, no part of the world furnishes no-j bb »• and in greater \aririies than our grand forests ot Maine. The standard tiling is tlu majestic elm; the "ak and rock maple are nobl* trees, but their very excellence make them too slow growers.. The hor-e-rhe-tinit, with its large and hand-ome leaves, ami it- eit gain flowr.-. i- a line tree, but owing to il- -rareity i- not for the million. The hcecli. the -rvera! varieties of biivh. unle-s too -ugge-tive of tin woes of boyhood, and the whit- maple, which •Ai - such rich coloring to autumnal scenery, all , ! ■ < lieap and excellent. But tin* ire-*. w< think, uiii -ibioiii seen out of it- native forests, handsome, a rapid grower, hardy. large and rb-gant foliage, i fii<* Linden, It i-a poetic tree also: for we never one without instinctively repenting the famous poem of Campbell, beginning— •• On Linden when the >un wa- low, hut with nin-t persons the poetry may ail vani.-h on j on 1« .irning that the linden is nothing hut the bass-' w — >d. \mong all the tree- we ha\e planted, this , i- tie favorite. Lor -mailer tree-, the mountain a-h. and lie- ■-iimae. with their rich scarlet fruit, are worthy a place among their nobler lirelliron. This list relates only to deciduous trees, '.hose w hich >hcd their leaves every fall and ivucw them even spring. These, for half the year, are desti tute of foliage and of beauty. Hence, we think, high among oi naineutal trees i- that ela-s with many varietic-. yielding, a- its name.evergreen, in dicates. p.-rpetual verdure and beauty: the pine, -prime, hemlock, lir.odai. Ac. ]f \\.- could have! bi>1 n • ! i*. to gladden the .ye at all time-, it should b the fragrant lir. Lv« ry lawn and all places >h"uM 1 i:iv e a good proporti- -it oj'lliese variou- e ver a;e«ai- , the iir and the cedar taking the lead. There i- a trouble about this evergreen tribe, the tva-on. perhaps, they are so little cultivated: their -mail roots being -o tender that, unless the tree tire taken up with great eare dirt and all. they will seldom live. Yet with thi- care they -urvive trails', planting a.-well as an elm or an apple tree. Some j year-ag” we -et upon our ground-, in Sear-port, w her< limy may now be seen in lull vigor, about *Jot» j e\i-ruivrii trees—lir,sprue.- and cedar, and not over! half dozen out of tin.* whole died. The pro pc r wav ' is thi-: Some damp day from the first to the mid- i die of June, go into some pasture land where the tree- -‘and out some distance from one another— never g**t one from the forest; shake 1 he tree: if il seems loo-e in the -oil, with an iron bar loosen one -ale ju-t -•> far out as the longest limbs extend, win n with some prying, and pulling to the opposite -ide. it wi ! usually cleave oil" roots and soil togeth er: thi-. if carefully set out and well watched, will •land :i a.I ehatlr* to live, even if quite large. lilt! if the -oi! drop- oil" to any e..n-id- ruble extent, in taking up or in movin:., throw it away and try nil . mi g.-t one just named; for without these arthed root-, a broom handle will grow as well. In sein ting tree-, -ee that they an thrifty and smart growers? a green, rank look, and good -pace between eaeh circle of hraie hc—thi- latter -bow ing its yearly growth—arc the irue mark- of the right -on. We lmw on hand many inquiries as to tin* proper way of riiiti\ ating tin1 cedar in the hedge, and in tin* sugar-loaf form, which -hall be duly answered in an article >0011. How shall tret*- he placed -<> a- to gi\c them their highed effect? No -afer rule than to follow nature. On a natural land-, ape you see win! a variety of tree- and *»f -hrubbery: in clumps here, and open \i>ta- there, -iieh a- w as the delight of your child hood and y->ut h; imitate them. I11 thi- natural ar rangement you see not milch form and air of still- ] in --: and a straight line among trees nature s'-em to bhnr—like the irishman who said lie eoiild put | two trees into a straight line ea-y enough, hut | di \ il .. '':; roiiid h< gel thn*r inloit. So. CXCCpt j a.1 lig i< !i r-. street-, &e., avoid formal rows of tiv - : hut arrange them as if they came there by ac cident. and different sorts so ;is to blend colors. If any unsightly object requires obscuring, these, ac cording to it- nature, trees, shrubs or vines should he planted. If some portion of the grounds are high, some low, the former should be neutralized by a low form of shrubbery, and the latter b\ tai] growing In es; just as long ladies of taste know so Well how to shorten in effect tin form by flounces and having the stripes go around, and short ones -eem to lengthen under tin* magic of a high toilel and -Irij.e- go up and down ! Tile di-courtesies Mild rudeness practiced Inward children, and ol'lenlimes by people who pride them- ] -i lie- on I heir cleg ain't- :unl n liiu-nient, call loudly I lor enrreeiion ; tin y are l'iuitt’iil causes of much of I In- ill-t' niper, rudeness ami seilishness: that we com- j plain of in tin- voting, tb.ud manners and good morals should go hand in hand. Ii is impossible to see ill-bred, disagreeable child a n. without tvlleet ing upon the quality of tin- limin' training mid the sort of people they have been forced to associate with. If tin- mother is a pattern ot gentility in society, while tin children are unmitigated nui sances. ii is pretty certain Unit underneath the gloss ol material elegance there is coarseness and ignor ance, if not something worse. [Liberal Christian. ORCHARD AND NURSERY. Hunting, in some localities, can now be done, bul I at III!' North, generally, it is better to wait until next month. A young live, put into cold soil, and ex posed to drying March wind, has a hard struggle. shriveled Tress, that have become dried during transportation, are lo he placed in a trench, and covered, root and branch, with line, mellow earth. In about a week they will lie found to have regain ed tln-ir original plumpness, when tliev muv be ta ... properly pruned, and planted! j III-'ling in should lie done with trees as soon as I hey arrive, it there is to In- the least delay in plant ting. The importance of keeping the roo’ts of lives front dry ing cannot be overestimated. Crafting may lie done first on the eherrv, and later on the plum. Apples ami pears do better if let! until the buds imminence to start. t berry Stones, for stocks, start very early; plants a- soon as the frost is out of the ground. Slock- huddl'd last year arc to he headed back. l’oi i.ti:y-KKKl’ixii. A correspondent, writing from Fast Bridcgwaler Mass.,givesus the experience in poultry raising. During tint winter lie has kept an account of tin1 number of eggs produced, and has found the average cost to be twenty cents per doz en, while the lowest price obtained has been thirty live cents per dozen. He says he has settled upon the Leghorns as being the best breed for egg-pro ducors. while they do not, like Asiatic breeds, want to sil continually. He lias found that Leghorns are 'cry sensitive to extreme cold, their tall combs and pendent wattles being quite sure to become frozen it tiie thermometer gets as low as 10 degrees above zero. I le turfher adds: “My hens (thirteen in num ber) are given an apartment in the south side of the barn-cellar, having light and sunny quarters. \ variety of food is given them, wheat-bran and corn meal scalded together and fed warm in the mornine. and a mixture of cracked and whole corn and oiits in the afternoon. Fresh water, and broken oyster and clam shells, are kept constantly by them. ‘I al so find it e.M iitiai to give some vegetable food in the absence of green grass; so, two or three times a week I chop up turnips or a cabbage and place be mre them, and it is difficult, an hour thereafter to hint a fragment remaining.” [Hearth A Home ! 11 ' ‘ 'K,:s- *>-v eii]is (if flour; four teaspoons ■ .'■•IIII lariar, mixed well into the flour; oneeup i-1"' ,i:,u'n two nips of milk: two it a j.o| ,•• (it 1 a. i 1,1 * ,:vhK fou Tka. Two cups of sugar, two clips ol sweet milk, three cups flour, sifted, lire,; teaspoons o baking-powder, one large spoon litl of iiK'ltni I»il11«*i*.-to iav|c THE LITTLE INJUNS. Ten little Injuns standing in a line. One toddled home, and then there were nine. Nine little Injuns swinging on a gate. One tumbled oil'and then there were eight. Tight little Injuns never heard of Heaven, One kicked the bucket, and then there were seven. Seven little Injuns cutting up tricks, One broke liis neck, and then there were six. six little Injuns kicking all alive, ( me went to lied and then there were live. Five little Injuns on a cellar door, one tumbled' in and then there were four. Four little Injuns out on a spree. One dead drunk, and then there were three. Three little Injuns out in a canoe, One tumbled overboard, and then there were two. Two little Injuns foolin' with a gun. One shot t'other, and then there was one. one little Injun livin' all alone. tie got married, and there were none, atoms. One little Injun and his little wife Lived in a wigwam the rest of his life. ' Om papa Injun, one mamma squaw Soon raised a family often Injuns more. A NIGHT IN THE GHOST-WORLD. The fact cannot bo denied by anyone mod erately acquainted with human opinions, that there is almost a universal belief in ghosts. Or if that is a too broad and vulgar way of ex pressing the belief, let us rather say, a uni versal feeling verging oil belief, if not reach ing it, that there are certainly “more things in heaven and earth'' than our daylight phi losophy accepts of myaecount for; that there are revelations from a world unseen by the carnal eye, unheard by the carnal ear, whieh come to the seeing and hearing faculties of the spirit in certain states of mind and body which are alone susceptible of this inter course: that these revelations assume divers forms, it may he of strange sights and sounds, \ ivid dreams, sudden and overpowering im pressions, apparitions, ghosts, spirit-knoek ings, call them what you please,—which compel the belief that the ghost-world with whieh we are unquestionably surrounded, impinges occasionally on the familiar, or on what we call the actual, just as strange and rare birds from another l'ar-otf clime are some times driven by storms on our coasts. This i~ a subject to which 1 have paid some attention. Without, as far as l ean discover, any prejudice to war)) my judgment, or any want of such a careful and cautious induction as a detective might bestow in tracing out the facts of a crime, and weighing the evidence in the nicest balance, 1 have collected several unquestionabley’wrfs, in whieh 1 have no hesi tation whatever in publicly acknowledging my belief: and shall, therefore, devote the rest of this paper to a narrative, whieh the reader may rest assured is strictly true, and then i shall leave him to judge for himself as to how far such mysterious phenomena as it records can lie accounted for. a triemi ot mine, a medical man, was on a fishing expedition with an oid college ac quaintance, an army surgeon, whom he had not met for many years, from h's having been in India with Ins regiment. M'Donald, the army surgeon, was a thorough Highlander, slightly tinged with what i~ called the super stition of his countrymen, and at the time I speak of was liable to rather depressed spirits ! from an unsound liver. His native air was, j however, rapidly renewing h s youth: and j when lie and his old friend paced along the hanks of the fishing stream in a lonelv part of Argvleshire, and sent their lines like airy gossamers over pooh, and touched the water over a salmon's nose, so temptingly that the best principled and wisest lish could not resist the bite. M'Donald had apparently regained all his buoyancy of spirit. They had been lishing together for about a week with great success, when M'Donald proposed to pay a visit to a family he was acquainted with, which would separate him from his friend for some days, lint whenever lie spoke of their intended separation, he sank down into his old gloomy state, at one time declaring that he fell as if they were never to meet again. My friend tried to rally him, but in vain. They parted at the treating stream, McDon ald's route being across a mountain pa,*, with which, however, lie had been well acquainted in his youth, though the road was lonely and wild in the extreme. The Doctor returned early in the evening to his resting-place, which was a shepherd's house lying on the very outskirts of the “settlements,” and beside a foaming mountain stream. The shepherd’s only attendants at the time were two herd lads, ami three dogs, Attached to the hut, ami communicating with it by a short passage, was rather a comfortable room which “the Laird" had fitted up to serve as a sort of lodge for himself in the midst of shooting-ground, and which he had put for a fortnight at the disposal of mv friend. Shortly alter sunset on the day 1 mention, the wind began to rise suddenly to a gale; the lain descended in torrents, and the night be came extremely dark. The shepherd seemed uneasy, and several times went to the door to inspect the weather. At last he roused the hairs id Hie Doctor lbr -M'Donald’s safety, by expressing the hope that by this time he was “ownt that awful black moss, and across the red burn." Every traveller in the Highlands knows how rapidly these mountain streams rise, and how confusing the moor becomes in a dark night. “The black moss and red burn" were words that were never after forgot bv the Doctor, from the strange feelings they produced when firs* heard that night; for there came into his mind terrible thoughts and forebodings about poor M’Donald, and re proaches for never having considered his possible danger in attempting such a journev ah.. In vain the she] herd assured him that lie must have reached a place of safety before the darkness and the storm came on. A pre sentiment which he could not east off made him so miserable that he could hardly refrain from tears. Hut nothing could be done to re lieve tlic anxiety now become so painful. 1 he 1 *oetor ai last retired to bed about mid night. Kora long time he could not sleep. The raging of the stream below the small window, .and the thuds of the storm, made him feverish and restless. Hut at last lie fell into a sound and dreamless sleep. (hit of this, i however, he was suddenly roused by a peeu-1 liar noise in his room,—not very loud, but j utterly indescribable. He heard tat), tan, tan. , j at the window; and lie knew, from the rela ;11(111 " hieli the wall of the room bore to the rock, that the glass could not be touched by human hand. After listening for a moment, and forcing himself to smile at his nervous ness. he turned round, and began again to seek repose. But now a noise began. Too dis tinct and loud to make sleep possible. Start ing and sitting up in bed, he heard repeated in rapid succession, as if sonic one was spit ting in anger, and close to his bed—-“Fit Hit! tit!" and then a prolonged “whir-r-r” from another paid of the room, while every chair began to move, and the table to jerk. The Doctor remained in breathless silence, with every faculty intensely acute. He frankly confessed that he heard" his heart beating, for the sound was so unearthly, so horrible? and something seemed to come so near him, that he began seriously to consider whether or not he had some attack of fever which affected his brain,—for remember, he had not tasted a drop of the shepherd’s small store of whisker! lie tell his own pulse, composed his spirits, and compelled himselt to exercise calmjud0* ment. Straining his eyes to discover any thing, he plainly saw at last a white objeet moving, but without sound, before him. He knew that the door was shut and the window also. An overpowering conviction than seized him, which lie could not resist, that his friend M’Donald was dead! By an effort he seized a lneifer-box on a chair beside him, and struck a light. No white object could lie seen. The ; room appeared to be as when he, went to bed. The door was shut, lie looked at his watch, | and particularly marked that the hour was twenty-two minutes past three. But the match 1 was Hardly extinguished when, louder than ever, the same unearthly cry of “Fit! tit! lit I’1 was heard followed by “whir-r-r," which made his tooth chatter with terrible rapidity. Then the movement of the table and every chair in the room was resumed with increased'violence, while the tapping on the window was heard above the storm. There was no bell in the I room, but the Doctor, on hearing all this: frightful confusion of sounds again repeated, j and beholding the white object moving to wards him in terrible silence, began to thump f tlie wooden partition and to shorn at the top! of his voice for the shepherd, and having done lie dived Ids head under the blankets. The shepherd soon made his appearance, in his night-shirt, with a small oil-lamp, or “erasey,*’ over his head, anxiously inquiring I as lie entered the room,— "What is t, Doctor. \v nat s wraug.J l'ity mo, are ye ill ?" ■•Very!" cried the Do-tor. Hut hetore he could give any expkii* ~,ons a loud whir-r-r was hoard, with the old cry of "Fit!" elosetoj the shepherd, while two chairs fell at his feet! The shepherd sprang hack, with a half scream of teiror; the lamp was dashed to the ground, and the door violently shut. “Come hack!" shouted the Doctor. “Come hack, Duncan, instantly, I command you!” The shepherd opened the door very par tially, and said, in terrified accents,— “(rude be aboot us, that was awfu"! What 1st ?’’ “Heaven knows, Duncan," ejaculated the Doctor with agitated voice, “ lmt do pick up the lamp, and I shall strike a light." Duncan did so in no small fear; but as he made his way to the bed in the darkness, to get a match from the Doctor, something caught his foot: he fell; and then, amidst the same noises and tumults of chairs, which immedi ately filled the apartment “Fit! lit! lit! tit!" was prolonged with more vehemence than ever! The Doctor sprang up and made his | way out of the room, but was several times tripped, by some unknown power, so that lie had the greatest difficulty ill reaching the door 1 without a fall. He was followed by Duncan, and both rushed out of the room, shutting the door after them. A new light having! been obtained, they both returned with ex treme caution, and, It must be added, fear, in the hope of finding some cause or other for all those terrifying signs. Would it surprise our readers to hear that they searched the room in vain?—that after minutely examin ing under the table, chairs, bed, everywhere, and with the doors stmt, not a trace could be found anywhere ? Would they belive that they heard during the day how poorM'Donald had •daggered, half dead from fatigue, into his friend's house, and falling into a lit, had died at twenty-two minutes past three that morning? We do not ask any one to accept of all this as true. Hut we pledge our honor to the follow ing facts:— I ho Doctor, alter the day's fishing was over, had packed his rod so as to take it into his bed-room ; but he had left a minnow attached to the hook. A white cat, that was left in the room, swallowed the minnow, and was hook ed. The unfortunate gourmand had vehe mently protested against this intrusion into her upper lip by the violent "Fit! tit! tit Pi with which she tried to spit the hook out ; the reel added the mysterious whir-r-r; and the disengaged line, getting entangled in the legs of the chairs and table, as the hooked eat at tempted to fly from her tormentor, set the furniture in motion, and tripped up both the shepherd and the doctor; while an ivy-branch kept tapping at the window! Will any one doubt the existence ot ghosts and a spirit World after this ? I have only to add that the Doctor's skill was employed during the night in eultingthe hook out of the cat's lip, while his poor pa tient, yet most impatient, was held by the shepherd in a bag, the head alone of puss, with hook and minnow, being visible. M'Don ald made his appearance in a day or two, re joicing once more to see his friend, and great ly enjoying the ghost story. The Milwaukee Wisconsin, in endeavoring to persuade the people of that city not to al low the fourth ol’ July to go by without a cel ebration, tells the following as a true story of a former eccentric resident of Milwaukee— “The Fourth came one year, and the Judge was very indignant that no preparations had been made here for honoring the day. After a gooil round scolding at everybody for so gross a neglect of what lie considered a duty, the Judge determined to celebrate the day himself, in a proper manner. At sunrise on the Fourth in question, he arose, and weld up to the lake shore blurt', where he tired a na tional salute. At ten o'clock lie marched in procession from the lake shore to a grove near by, where lie read the Declaration of Independ ence, delivered an oration—which was after wards pronounced one of the most eloquent of the old time Fourth of July orations. Af ter the exercises in the grove he reformed in procession and marched back to the lake shore, where he dined, and read and drank the thir teen toasts, and any number of volunteers, responding to one, singing a song to another, cheering to another, the one to Washington being drunk in silence and standing. The ceremonies over, lie returned to the city, and many will remember his boast that so long as lie lived no one should say that there was no celebration of the glorious Fourth in Milwau kee.” ClIAHMiXG Igxouance. The Xew Orleans Picayune relates the following incident as hav ing occurred on a Mississippi steamer: A few days since there was a wedding on Baronne street, celebrated with great eclat, and the newly-wedded couple set out at once on a bridal tour. The ceremony took place at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and at 5 o’clock they were onboard a splendid steamer hound for the Upper Mississippi- As soon as the vessel was under way, the passengers crowded the saloon, and mirth and revelry began to hold a festival. A dance was improvised, and joy and merriment was protracted into the “wee sma’ hours.” Now it so happened that toe berth next our newly-married friends was occupied by a live ly little matron and her infant. Wishing to enjoy as much pleasure as possible, she had intrusted her babe to a servant, with instruc tions to put it to bed as soon as it went to sleep, while she herself joined in the dance. By a strange mistake the servant mistook the state-room and deposited the rosy infant in the bridal couch. Now when the hoty for retiring came, the groom led his blushing bride to the door, and modestly waited out side for her to disrobe and retire. One can readily imagine his astonishment, therefore, when the next instant he heard his name call ed frantically, and in accents of surprise and distress. Opening the door, he looked dubiously, and said: “What is the matter, my love?" “O, Henry, look here!” “Why, bless me, it’s a baby!” “Yes, but oh Henry, how did it come here? do you think it's ours?” “Well no!” replied Henry, solemnly, "I think it is almost too soon.” “Oh! it certainly is, but then, what shall we do?” Just then the anxious voice of the mother was heard inquiring for the baby, and it was restored to her, very much to the relief of the young couple. A HOME IN THE OCEAN Correspondence of the N. Y. Journal of Commerce. Let us. visit Minot Ledge Light-IIouse now, | while this stonn is at full power. This ledge j is covered by water, except for a short time at very low tide. It rises in Boston bay, about twenty miles ironi Boston, and one mile and a halt from Cohassct. Into it are fitted and bolted down the stones of the tower, which are dovetailed and bolted into eaeli other in i such a fashion that no stone can be moved j without lifting tower and ledge with it. The 1 tower, light and all, is 114 feet in height; yet over it, elpan to the very top, the waves are i dashing. Does not their thunder make your very heart tremble P But these keepers tell you there is no danger! For forty feet the towers are built up solid, except the well, which is in the center, thirty-eight feet deep. It holds a supply of water for one year. The water keeps good and pure. The well holds 2,000 gallons. It is rather warm in the sum mer, and in the winter becomes as one of the keepers says, “a kind of porridge, ice.” We will suppose we enter the tower from a boat. To do so we should either climb a ladder forty feet long, fixed into the side of the tow er, or be swung up in a chair. At the top of the ladder are two sets of oaken doors, against which are now beating the hungry waves. Between the other doors and the inner is an entry about three feet long. Entering this room (which is the cellar), from the doors are seen on the right hand the coal and the wood. There stands also a Hour barrel, and over these, suspended on hooks, hang buckets of various sizes, containing, doubtless, many good things for food. On the left is the oil pump for pumping oil into the tank in the oil room. Here are chests, ropes, brooms, tubs, pork barrels, and a little of everything need ed for lightkeeping and housekeeping. It is dark and chilly here, and we had better as cend. Ah! how good it smells here, in the room next above the cellar. Kitchen and din ing room and everything cosy, comfortable and neat. A table’well set—hot cakes and hot eofi'ee and boiled fish—“Of course we will.” And down we sit, not waiting a second invi tation. Well, is not this a singular situation? It seems like dining in a whale’s belly. Storm ed about and dashed about and poured about by the remorseless sea, and eating a relishful meal ipiite at our ease. It is certainly one “new thing under the sun” to some of us. Each of the four keepers is off one week and on three. Communication with the land is often dangerous and impossible. In tin* win ter they cannot get home as often as once in three or four weeks. They all have families on shore; and here they sit during storms that shake to its foundations their lonely tower and envelope its crystal summit in foam, and they think of wives and little ones who may be sick or dying without the possibility of sending word to their beloved watchmen on the sea. “Do you not take pleasure in the sights you must behold during all these isolated da vs and weeks?” asked one. Oh, yes! We have a very extended pros pect, and one which is never twice the same. Both sea and sky are forever changing, and everything that is on tin.* sea comes and goes. ’There is nothing stationary but our tower. We see all tin* vessels that go in and out of Boston harbor, and in.the .summer we are visited by pleasure parties in sailing vessels and steamers, the latter of which sometimes bring out bands of music, which plav to us. They approach close to us, and give three cheers for Minot Ledge light. When visitors come into the Light we sometimes find as much amusement as they do. We have all sorts of visitors, as you may suppose. Thev come trom 111111:1, vaiilormu, and trom all parts of the world. We have many famous and some infamous names upon our visitors' | book. [| may scan strange that so far as we ; are from shore we should he visited by birds, j insects, millers and liutterllies from the land, flie butterflies are ol huge dimensions. I ! have in the morning swept oil' the walk that surrounds the lantern, thirty, forty, and fifty of these' little shore birds, which, allured by the bright light, have flow'll hither over the waters to their death. “And here is a hit of the glass from one of the squares of the lantern broken last week by a large sea fowl, as we suppose, for we did not sei1 the gentleman. This is the first accident ol the kind since the light was erect ed.” "How long was this tower in building?" “Five years and four months.” "What do you men find to employ your minds and hands with, and keep time from hanging too heavily upon you?'1 “Oh, we manage to keep busy. \\ e make almost everything, from an extension table to a clothes pin. Then for sport and to supply our table we fish. We don't have to ‘go a fishing.’ We are already there. All we have to do is to heave a line from the door, and in a minute we have our dinner by the nose. Then we have reading and writing and sew ing to do.” By this time dinner is finished, and up we go. The next room is a bedroom. We no tice that the rooms are all of one size, twelve feet in diameter, and six or seven in height. Overhead in this lirst bedroom is a long piece of joist, which can be put, out of the window and used for raising up heavy objects. Here is an iron bedstead, and a chair that is also a bedstead, a table on winch lies a register for the names of visitors, a wardrobe, a marble i wasli bowl, and a water-closet. I'p again, and we come to the oil room. About the wall are ranged oil tanks, copper-colored oilcans, trays, <&c., show that wo are nearing the light room. There is one water tank in tins room, also a work bench and a box of glass for the lantern. There are here an oil measure, a tool chest, and a spare lamp. Another ofthe steep, narrow stairways brings us to the watch-room—sitting room ofthe tower. Here is a table, an arm chair, a stove, books, pa pers, a few pictures, and the machine for ring ing the log'bell. Front lids room we mat now, since the storm .has ceased to send the waves so high, pass out on the balcony that surround it. Well for us that (lie iron railing is so, strong. There! now you've no choice but io go home bareheaded. Why did you not cling to your hat and wig? This win'd is enough to take hair out by the roots, even it it leaves the head itself. What a scene ! what a noise! We cannot describe it. nor endure it. Let us go in. One more night and we are in the light room. Here is the object for whose elevation and continuance all this ma sonry was made—all this shill and labor call ed forth. “And the light is the life of men.” Thus we render it. At sunset the lamp is lit, and till sunrise it shines on in the darkness— a beacon and a warning to all who sail on that dangerous sea. The lamp has three con centric wicks, and is in tin; centre of a lens four feet in diameter and ten feet high. Step within and look at your friends through these prisms—how do you like the looks of faces three feet long? This magnifies the power of the light, and the glass walls of this room probably have the same effect. There is another walk and balcony without, but we will not try it. It is only on calm, clear even ings that being out there is agreeable. But within, not all the cold and frost and storms of winter, at its worst, can affect one’s bodily comfort. One is as thoroughly protected as if he was in his tomb. Wonder if these keep ers ever have a nervous fancy that they are entombed ! It would not be strange. ()n the first balcony, about three feet wide, we should have seen the fog bell could we have seen anything for the wind and spray. It weighs 1,500 pounds, and is hungup against the wall of the tower. ECONOMY AND SAFETY OF THE NARROW GAUGE RAILROADS. Mr. It. YT. Elliot, a well known railroad man of Canada, is now in Europe for the pur pose of examining the different systems, with a view to effecting a change in (he width of tracks in Canada. The Toronto C'lobe of May 8th has a letter from Mr. Elliot, dated at Christiana, Sweden, April 7th, in which he re lated his observations in that country. He says— Alter settling nivselt at the \ letoria Hotel, I called on C. l’ihl, Esq., Government Engi neer, to inquire as to the best points at which to examine the working of the narrow gauge system of railway * ? Xot only was this in formation afforded with the greatest readiness, but he devoted three days to showing and ex plaining peculiarities of tin1 system.'' Taking a carriage, we drove to Dramnien—a distance ol 28 miles, and there stopped over night; the road being through a most beautiful coun try, the views embracing water, cultivated valley, wood and rocky height, in constantly changing contour anil proportions. Xext morning, a special train conveyed us over the line from 1 trainmen to ltandsfjord—a dis tance of 5G miles, stopping at ail the points of interest to examine bridges, viaducts, cut tings. curves, and stations. About one third of the line is constructed over a fairly favor able country; the other two-thirds is a very diffic ult piece of work, with extensive bridges, rock cuttings, clay cuttings, viaducts, curves, and gradients. The season at which J saw the line was one to test its qualities severely, j the frost just leaving the ground; and l can say most emphatically, that, afterviiling over the railway systems of thirteen countries since leaving Canada, in not one was there less os cillation and vibration than in this narrow gauge line. I was particularly anxious to learn the effect of snow on traffic, and saw myself the remains ol very extensive sir>w banks; the universal testimony was that the locomotives were able to clear the line while doing their ordinary duty with trains, unless the snow was over tour teet high, and in no case was communication interrupted for 24 hours. 1 Ins class ot line lias been continuously iu operation in Norway since ISo:! Dnring'tho whole of that period, no accident has occur red to a passenger; and. while it would be most unfair to leave out the officers in charge in awarding credit for this magnificent result, they could not have prevented loss had the line been llimsy and unsafe. The narrow gauge lines belong to the Gov ernment. and are not worked primarily for a dividend. They have, however, always been made to pay all working expenses, re newals and a small interest, from a scale of fare and freights lower than any other system in the world. 1 he first-class earria°'es have all the comfort of the English; but while the charge in England is about ;ld. per mile lirst elm-s. in Norway it is only a penny for an English mile. In England the seeinid-ehiss fare is id. per mile—in Norway a half-penny. The best proof of the estimate in which these lines are held after having been most fully testi d, is to lie found in the fact that plans and estimates are now before the par liament to construct :l.jo miles more as a part j of the systems now in operation, and that a ! company is vigorously at work collecting the I necessary capital to construct a line from Christiana to Drammen. While I was iu Christiana, i? 110,000 was voted by the city council in aid of the latter project. To give some idea of* the projected main line it may be stated that it attains an altitude of 0,000 feet above the sea, and will convey tourists to latitudes where at certain seasons the sun may lie seen at miilnighl. liv great economy and using the rolfjig -lock now ex isting, this line is estimated to cost only >0, 000 per mile, and estimates have some value! ill Norway. The Drammen line, which cost about >1. I.'itk000 to build, ran o\ or the estimate so,non only, caused by some extra work 1 icing added. There i- no doubt felt by the friends of the new line as to the vote being passed by a large majority. The opposition however com plains of extravagance, and say that lighter rails would have answered even purpose. The condition under which rail wins have lo work in Canada and Norway are much alike. There is tiie severe fro.-i and heavy snow-fall; the sparse population and exten sive territory; small passenger traffic and the bulk ot the goods traffic, consisting of grain and lumber, runs one wav, causing large haulage of empty carriages. There is one important difference, however. In Norway, the population is stationary or decreasing; w hile in Canada it is advancing very rapidiv. At one point of the line 1 saw a train of thirteen loaded cars drawn up an incline of one in sixty; there being a sharp curve at the same spot. J In- points winch appeared to me to !u> es pecially worthy of attention in connection with the narrow gauge railways, were as fol lows :— 1st. They have proved themselves thor oughly safe and efficient. 2nd. At very low tariffs, and with small tratlie, they pay. fil'd. The cost of construction and main tainauee is much less than broad-gauge lines. ■tth. This low cost is attained not only b\ the smaller amount of work required in con struction, but by greater flexibility, so as to take advantage of the ground. bth. They arc specially adapted to coun tries with small populations and large terri tory. The climate of Sweden, with its heavy snow-falls is not much more severe than ours, and the greater facility with which the track can be cleared is an important consideration. The more the facts are examined the greater will be the reasons to sustain the change that has been made in the gauge and location ot the Belfast and Moosehcad Lake Hoad. The Bangor Whig of Monday remarks— "The last of the broad gauge railroads in England are changing to the narrow gauge.” --1—-’ ' i Di'tiks of Sol,DiKits. A certain tonfed erate regiment tliat seneii during the war in the Western Department was commanded until after the battle of Murfreesboro bv a co lonel who was a foreigner by birth, but a sol dier by choice and education. He never learn ed to use good English, but he laid a short wav of expressing himsell in impetuous exclama tions that was quite as effective in conveying his conclusions as his practiced sword was in disabling an adversary. This anecdote is attributed to him: Once, when some general officers were hesitating about making an im portant but desperate movement, on account of the loss of life it was likely to involve, he, happening to be present, bawled out: “What kill soldier! What soldier made for? Soldier paid to be killed, by tain!-’ At the battle of Murfreessboro, when a cer tain brigade was ordered forward, on Wednes day, to assist in the attack on the Federal right, the regiment commanded by the foreign officer referred to met with such a furious re ception from “the boys of the West,” as they prided in calling themselves, that it wavered, and was on the point of falling into confusion, when, it is said, he instantly brought the men to a sense of their duties and responsibilities by dashing madly along the line, brandishing his sabre over their heads, and shoutin'1' at the top of his voice : “Go up tali, men! ° Go up tah! Py tarn, do you want to livejalways?” [Harper's Magazine. WHAT SAVED PHILIP LEE. “Hold him up closer to me." the dying un man said, faintly. “My eyes are so dim that ! cannot see his face, he seevrts so far away! Kind hands held Philip Lee close to ld< dying mother's face. Soon, very soon, -die would go drifting out into the unknown future who-. farther shore is Heaven. “My poor little hoy." she said in a low | whisper, through which the mother-love ran j deep and strong-, like the under current of a river whose surface seems calm. Death was very near, she felt his hv touch, hut the moth er-love was only deepened and strengthened by his pro.-cncc. “My poor child," she -aid .".gain, kissing Ids face tenderly, “who will |-,-.'.• \.,u when I am gone!" “Where are you going, mamma?" h a i.. d wonderingly. “Iam going to the land 1 have told you about so often,” she answered. "I want'mf little boy to promise me to always be good. If you are when you die you may come to that land, too; I shall he there and your father You promise, don’t you?” "Yes, mamma, he answered "Don't forget it. When you are tempted to do wrong think whether (lod is looking ai you or not. Ho will he; He always sees what we are doing. And think that if you commit wrong deeds you are building lip a wall be tween us that will get so high in time that you cannot climb over it to get to me. livery wrong deed, every bad action i- a stone in the wall. You won't forget vour promise. Philip!” "No, mamma,” lie answered hardly coin prehending at the lime what she had 1 eon su\ ing to him. She kissed him again and again, w i'll yeui n ing tenderness. T ion she lay very still and quiet for a long tinea Philip thought sle was going to sleep. Some one lifted him from the lied, 'it last, and look him away. In the morning he went to his mother's room for his morning kiss and greeting. But there was no pale face on the pillow. Something covered in white l.u !>\ the open window, lie went to it and raised the covering. His mother was there, lmt so white, so cold and still that he was frighten ed and commenced t" weep, lie could not comprehend the great mystery of death, out it awed and terrilied him. Hie years went by and Philip Lee w as a man. Sad years they had been, lli.s lot had been east itt evil places. Bad i ompnnion had throwntheir pernicious iniluem a- over him and led him in sinful devious paths, \okind hand laid been held out to restrain him in lb downward course—no kind voice had whi pered to him of a better way. except some times, the voice of his angel-mother. But with such evil influences about him. and no one to point out a higher way for his feel to follow, he had not heeded the reprov ing voice, and his promise was well nigh forgotten, flic memory of the night when ids mother died lame back to him sometimes, but his rough life had so hardened ids better nature and dulled his liner sensibilities that i bad lost the jiovver to touch him very keenly. One day one of his companions came to him vv itit a base proposition in hi- heart, which he mi folded to Philip, and asked hi.- assistance in carrying out ids evil design. That day an old man had gone to the village with severa cattle which he was to soil to t cattle deale! living in town, fora considerable sum. In some way Philip's evil-minded friend bad found out ail this, and proposed to waylay the old man on his road home and rob him of bi money. At first Philip was linn in ids rel'u-al to have anything to do with the matter. But after much urging on the part of his compan ion, he consented, and it was agreed that they should meet at dusk in a piece of woods through which the old man was to pas-. iNijrnt ten. rump i.ce slant- i mi im place of meeting, with a strange scn-atim, at his heart. What was In - going to do ? t '.mi mit rohbery! The thought " ' iim-ril i Suddenly he thought of the prmuise he had made his mother w ars and years ago ll-.u far away those pure years m childhood set m ed now to the sin hardened man. To If al ways good! He had promised (hat, but how fearfully he had gone astray from the path of right and nolde manhood, lit-thought of tIn wall his mother had told him about, and In wondered if it was not too high already I’m him to climb. Could be s -ale il if In- tried He remembered so very many w it-k> . 1 11 • ■ -«1 - ! and wrong doings that hail stained Ids pa-t life, that it seemed to him the wall w is tt-rri bly high. Anil the deed In - was alimn to com mil would that not be a mightie: stole- than 1 all tin- rest wliieh he had pin in tlit- wall lb grim black barricade which he had rented be tween Heaven and his own -mil! How plait; ly the memory of that evening yesu-s nr ■ came back to him ! He could hour his molhei' low, taint voice, and sec her white face, linni ed in shadow-, he could smell the scent m lilacs through tin w indows, anti see again ;1 . golden brightness in the west. And till the time a “still small voice" within, kept ivim —“The wall is very high ; will you male it any higher?" -•I cannot! I will not do this u ieked deed '' he cried, “I am bad enough I'm-almost e\ cry thing, hut not i/uite low en- - igh lor '.imt lie had not stopped, while lie w tt- ! Iiinl. i i. , of all these things, and u h*-n h ■ m nh- llie i solve to have nothing to do with tli-■ | reposed robbery he was very near the place of m. ing wliieh his emnpanimi hail th siguated. “I will go and tell him what 1 have «let>■ • mined to do," lie said. lie went on and found his rmhpauimi w,n ing for him. “1 was afraid you had hacked outun- the greeting he received. “1 lidn'l know lm the old man would go byliefo'-ey.mg.ii In-re “I am not here to help you." Philip answ ed. lil'UlIy, “I have eoilehli ■ d t't lia I • 11 ■ ■: 11:11; to do with the plan you pivp.i'cd. an.I a . come to toll you so.' “Fool!” cried the other scornfully .’11 i think what you might gain by a wori, “And think of what 1 might In a-'" 1'hilio answered, and turned away. There was no robbery eonnnitted that night With no one to confide in or depend up a, for assistance the young man who lnul pn ■]ti ed the scheme felt unwillingto proeet d. < - n seipiently, old .Mr. Stanley- went home with his money unmolested. From that time tlna - was a change in Philip Lee - a change for t lie better. He bad left oil’ bis rough w at el 1 i\ ing,forsook his evil companions and be nine a better, nobler, truer man. Indiana and the Fifteenth Amendment. Indianapolis, MavI.'I. Ail the Demncraii members of the House of Representative.-, i \ eept two resigned this moniing, leaving tlm House without a quorum. In tile Senate :il roll-call this afternoon. .'17 members answered to their names. The doors were locked and absentees sent for. 1’endinglliis proceeding, the Constitutional Amendment was eallen up and the vote taken. Although the Democratic members present announced that they had sent in their resignations to the (iovernor thi-, morning, the Lieut. (Iovernor ruled (hat the Senate had no official notice ot their re-igna tion, and declared the amendment r.a it tied by a vote of t\vcnty-se\ en ayes to one nay. eleven Senators present not voting. It i-- though! the Republican members of tin- bouse will vote on the amendment to-morrow and then adjourn. Evening. The House of Representatives, this afternoon, before calling the roll to a certain whether a quorum was present or not, concurred in the Senate's amendment D> the specific appropriation bill by a rira run vole. A message was received from the Cover nor notify ing House of the resignation of C members. Mr. Osborne (Republican) then moved to adopt the joint resolution ratifying t ^institutional amendment. Mr. Coft'rath (Democratic) objected, mak ing a point of order that there was not a quorum of tbo House present. The chair ruled that the objection might be considered as an appeal taken by Mr. ('olVrath, and the decision of the speaker was sustained. The House then passed the joint resolution hy a vote of 51 ayes, to nays, none. Two Democrats and one Republican present' re fused to vote. Nothing was done in the Sen ate to-day, no quorum being present.