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BY DAVID OYER. | tI pr t pot r i]. ■"'MY r '? - ' - - Wt, WHEN I AM OLD. When I am old—and, O how soon Will life's swoet morning yiel 1 to noon And noon's brna-l. fervid, earnest light B ■ sha I 'd in the solemn night ! Tiff, like a story well nigh toll, Will st in my life—when I ant old. When I ui oi l, this bre zy earth "Witi lose for me its voice of mirth— i'lia streams will have an under one 0 sadness not by rifht their own. And spring's sweet power in vain ucfi 11 In rcsy charms—wli-n I am old. When I am old, I shall not care To leek with fi overs my fi I 'd hiir ; 'Twill be no vain desire of mine In rich and cosily dress to shine: Bright jewels and the brightest g. 11 IVill charm m; naught—vlfcea Ia u oil . When lam • Iff, my friends will be . Old. and infirm, and bowed, like me; Or else, their Ixwli • 'ne.ith the sod, I'heir spirits dwelling safe with God, Theold church l*ff! will long have tilled Above the rest—when I .m i Id. Wh.n I am old I'd rather bend Thus sadly o'et each hurried friond, Than see them lose the est nest truth, That marks the friendship of our youth; 'TwiU be so ?ad to have them coll 'f)v strange to me—when I am old! When lam old—() how it seems Like the wild lunacy of drei as, To picture i-i propheic rhyme That din?- far distant, shadowy time; So distant that i; seems o'er bold Even to sjy-— < When I a:a zlJ.l' When I em i l l—perhaps ere then 1 sh 1! be missed from haunts of tueti; Perhaps my dw lling will b found Beneath tli green ami quiet mound, My namely stranger hands enrolled Among the dead— ere I am old. Ere I am <ll—that time is now, For loullt skslighily on my brow; .Vy limbs i;re firm, end strong, and free. Lib has alhotisiiid charms for m-; Charuisthat will ling their iußuence hold IVithin my heart—ere I urn < Id. Ere I am ol I—o let me give Ms life t learning how to live.' Tlutt shall I meet with willing -fi 'art An early summons to depart, Or find my length ned days consoled By God's sweet peace—when [ am old. AGRICULTURAL. From the American Agriculturist. Hints on Farm Work for ipril. Let iLc fences all ha repaired as soon aspos eible, if any of that work is left over front la.-t month. Get out the manures and composts for the spring rit J Summer crop?. In this, better fertilize half the ground well, than go over the wi. le with only a scant supply. If the meadows have not been already top dre-sed with manure for the season, they bad Inter be postponed till after baying, as the raw portions of the dung will remain, and be o the way of the scythe, and wowing machine. Besides this, the soil will be bully cut up by the teams, and wagon, or cart wheels, doiug it more hurt than the dung will do it good. Let the loose stones be also picked off the mowing lots, Had carried off altogether. Putti theui in heaps, large or email, only gives a harbor for mica, mote?, and other vermin intent ou mischief. Clean up the door and wood yards of tlieir winter litter. Put the chips under cover, if you have any, and pile up all stray and loose lumber. Rika and pitch together the litter of the barnyards where it can rot down iuto muck or compos'. "Slick up" generally, so that the whole piciuiscs may look tidy and comforta- Tiiis is the month to ect oat shade and fruit 'tecs. LLg large holes—"uot so big as jour ha'," but tbrcc, four, five, or six leet to dtam -1 ter, so as to give amplo space, and mote too—~ t; .'r the roots, which the trees uewdntve, but for the youug fibres that will strike from them in the Dext year or two. -■' at in the plows for the coming crops. Plow deep not 'while sluggards *leep only, but plow deep always. Recollect you have a west ex cellent firm light below the one you now oc upy, and only, about six or eight iuoueg under if, where the. roots of your previous crops have seldom peuetrated. Only..work intq this uew 'iw thoroughly, say three to six ineb?; and jjBIF - ...ofe-YY A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, tbe Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., &c—Terms: Que Dollar and Fifty Cents in Advance. let it san dayligh'. by throwing its fresh soil up j to the sun, and the effects, alter the first year 1 or two, will surprise you. Don't mind tlie ! "hard plowing." Put on an extra team or ! iwo, or if you have not that extra team of j yotvr own, change work with a neighbor, and you will he well compensated in the crop;,— I next year, if not this. Don't bo afiaid of that j "nasty yaller clay," or that "leachy gravel," ior "poor, sandy stuff," if it does come up. If not quite a* good the first year, it will bo the second, and e<w ti you w'll have a Jeep, rich soil a foot deep, where you only had froui two to six inches before. When well plowed, and the surface dry, put on the harrow, the teeth sharp and thick, and tear it up as finely as possible. 'Pi .nt eaily potatoes as soon as the ground ia warm euough. L< i the peas, barley, Spring wheat and oats be in as soon as possible. One day of early spring growth is worth a week ot | June or July in giving a thrifty a'a!k and well ; tilled head. i Fix 'lie ground for corn and beans, the lat - t r pari of the mouth, and let. it lit? up to the ?uu to thoroughly warm, so as to be ready to plant in good season —the right time to plant you know bet'er than we do, an we are iguo j rant of the exact place you live, torn ought ,to come up quickly, ar.d then grow tight no, without stopping a day till it ripens. Stunted ' corn, IK? it either by cold in the ground afivr i planting, or frost, or drouih after it coins op, never gels'forward like that which has no pr.ll ; backs. And in a corn country like ours, ; where we rely largely on that crop to nuke | our meats, as well us to sell,and eat. it should . receive the very best part of our attention. If the apple and oth r orchard trees have i not been pruned ail they need—and which is ; Rot much, if they have been attended to as they ought to have been years before—take off the useless proU and limbs of the l ist year's growth. Cut out the broken branches, if there be any; put crutch;s under and straighten up the leaning" trees; throw the he id into simp;, and let thcau go on r< j licing in the protection of master who appreciates their vaue. Get the tools Ui iuto order an 1 keen tlnui so. When the field is plowed bring the plow in, | ami put it under cover; so with the. harrow, ; and other to da. I lava a plate for them and ; le tiienr be in their pliee, so you c.iti put your i hand upon them in the dark. The same with ! shovels, hoc?, axes- —indeed everything you | Wferk with on tTfe farm, as sleds, wagons and | carts, inclusive. The cows are now bringing In char calves. We have already told you how to manage them, as well as the sheep with their lambs. Young colts usually drop in this mouth, ami in May. Look well to the mares about this time. Don't work them hard for a few days before and after dropping 'he foal. A sweat ed mare is more injured in the way of her m Ik for the young foul, than is almost anything else. She may work constantly after the colt is a week old, but the work must be uniform, ami not hurried, ller blood must l e kept equable, and her feed generous. Chopped hay, or straw with meal of some kind is l est, being easy of digestion, and producing'plenty of. uiiifc. Let the cows be still stabled every night un til the weather is warm enough for lying out. Cows are jist as liable to catch cold by expo sure as folks are, and as their coals are now coming off they are thinuer haired thau usual, for a mouth or mure. In sLort., look well fo cvcryihitsg about the place. "Whatsoever your eye see?, or vour hands find to do, do it with aj your might, and in good time." "Eternal vigilance is the price of"—success iu anything, ex'-ept a windfall of goed fotytitle: but as we "common folks" hav< no especial expectations in that line, we mu?i trust to our own stout bands and willing minds for flic achievement of what good fortune is to attend us iit life; and, as "Aptil fool's" d.;r is now past, we hope tho balance of the month is going to bo appropriated to the getting t,f wis dom and understanding, as well us the getting in of our future crops, on which our success f<>r the whole year is to rely. April is, per haps, the moat important month iu the whole season. T — * EARLY PLANTS. —A very convenient me.th | od of starting early corn, sugar cane, cabbage, j tomatoes, cucumbers, and indeed almost any i kind of plants, is the following: Take an under sod, (not too grassy,) or te j aaeeous muck and cut it into cubes, say two j inches ea<h way. Insert one or more seeds in | the e< titer of each, and then pack <he pieces ; closely together and firmly down upon a box |of earth, to be kept modciately moist. This : j box c ut be set in the cellar on frosty days and nights, and be carried out into the ?uu at other times. When the seeds are up a'.A trans planting out is admissible, take up the cubes and transplant them to the open ground.— This can be done without disturbing the roots, or scarcely retarding tbe growth of tho young plant?. Seeds of cucumbers melon?, tomatoes, &e., are sometimes planted in soil placed iu old or j cheap basket?, with rather open work. These ! are iiiiug up out of the way of frost, b. ing cx- I posed to tbe citn during the day. At the prop- : er lime these baskets are simply imbedded in tbe bill even with the surface, cud left there, j Tbe roots will find their way out into the soil ' through the open work of the sides. A lew hills thus started, with little trouble, wiil ofteu ! produce a crop some weeks iu advance of those j I sown at first in the open ground — lb. Pow CLOVERSEED NOW.— We have found j no' mora successful mode of sowing clover, or ' clover and timothy upou winter grain field?, than to choose a still moruing, when the ground j is a little frozen, aud scatter the seed broad cast It tails in the opeu frost cracks, ami when thawing lakes place,-is beautifully and uniformly covered near the surface, and is al- BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 0, 1658. most sute to germinate. % good crop of do vt-r, thus sowed, nets pirtiy <i a mulch to th* grain root?, fields a supply of- fall feed, and • most admirable to be turned under wltcn km',.; high the tr-xt vrar, as one of tbe best manures that can be applied to any sot!.— tb. r. T .. ■ — ' " :-A AN AMUSING SKETCH. From the novel entitled the Wetbcrby's, w* take the following amusing account of an oil man's second marriage. It will bo seen tha' Mr?. Brill was a 'brick:' Colony! Bister's unpads' Wo—lite who',;' regiment--turned out iu full dtess to witne*-i their eeiebradun. Even Mrs. Brill bad went | r o the expen.-e of a white satin slip and a bou -1 net trimmed with orange blossoms fur the occa sion. (Brill had been appointor! brigade-ui#- I jur of the dividotj. Tne colonel looked a how i forty yu>rs of age. Tiie hnde was certainly a | very pretty girl. Mj >r Green gave Iter away. I wished Mrs. Brill had stayed at hone 1 ; fo? her mind was always running on matters of bu-i sines-, and she mole uo laugh iu (lie church,, close to the altar, by saying seriously, in A whisper, 'She'll runic nicely or. the fund, cir* tic', as a colonel's widow, if anything happen? to old Baxter! It's a fraud! lie ought to be usliamed of himself! 1 wish the oi l woiur.n'.Y ghost could walk in just now, ami woaf was the ore cf her saving aud pinching at slu did. Tins young woman will spend it all you know. I should like to catch Brill making such a fool of hitiiself, after"/'#; dead and gone, and ducks at:d drakes of all I have scraped tos liher. When Fm dying, I'll burn every bit of company's paper, or tear i- into little bit.s aud throw it into the chicken both I shall c 4 fur on purpose; and then, if Brill likes to mar ry again, let him. It will ba quite of riumiL' 'Hush!'said I. 'The parson is looking at - VOU \. . I 'Well, let him lo k, the pasty faced ma.;| said Mrs. Brill. 'I think ho might have put a clean Si t you may call it, surplus,' (she meant surplice,) 'although it is a dirty bust - mvs im is etigaged iu—nurryiug nit old paint ed man to a mere child. There were wo pity iug oid Baxter not long ago, when the oil la - d| died; and now you sec tlicit: aio.ali tliect.A nets envying Litu. The world is full i f 'hyjc pa;risy art ! humbug. What can that youtiy girl cote at tut il.bt obi thing? It L , not in human i.aturo. 'Flo w i sto Le Mis. Colonel Bax'cr, and have a catriugo ;.nd paii aiid.aU Ac rest ofi .' ' v 'So long a? ye both shall live,' said :be elcr gymaH, eoneluoing tiie vow. 'I will/ said tho colonel. 'I wili." echoed Mrs. Brill in a load whis per. 'M i'V, I'L three-score and ten is up al ready—so that his promissory note is overdue before be m ikes it.' I could contain myself r.o longer. I titur ed aloud. My wife, who WAS leaning on ID. arm, gave me a look expressive of extreme distrust; but it did not reduce mj to graviiy,— On tbe contrary, it provoked me to titter loud ly age in. 'For richer and poorer.' When the old (Jul. came to these words, Mrs. Brill whispered to nie, '11.• 11 be pooret pretty soon, I warrant vou, l Givt thee my trot/;!' she repeated after the j colonel. 'Bring her on the fund, aud give | her a pension! I say it's a fraud!' 'Willi this ring I thee wed,' old Baxter fee bly repeated after the clergyman. 'W i:h this fiddlestick!' whispered Mrs. Brill carrying on her commentary loud enough for me to hear her. 'I have no patience with ao old man who paiuts hischeeks, and dyes Lis hair, and comes to church clothed in such abominable falsehood.' 'Yea, and thou shall see thy oliildtcn's chil dren,' said iho minister. 'Ghiidien's children, indeed! Now the very idea/ Mrs. Brill. "You had Letter leave the church, Robert," whispered my wife, 'if you cannot behave bet ter.' Mrs. Brill heard her, and replied. 'He had better stay where ho is. You wouldn't bsnre him cry, would you V "Hugh ." said I, in an agony of fear lest Mrs. Brill should come to words with my wife, and interrupt the ceremony. 'Spot or wrinkle, or any such thing.' When the minister came to these words Mrs. Brill was | very indignant. 'Spot or wrinkle!' she repeated, 'tie has fil led up all the wrinkles with white paint and j putty! 1 cotild pick it out with a penknife! The old man is a waiking fraud. I've no patience with hia ; and I will say so at tho breakfast. Briil is on tlie staff, and can no longer Le bul lied by any ragauiuffian of a commanding offi cer. #**# My wife, when we came out of church, beg ged at' inc not fo sit near Mrs. Biill at be breakfast. But iff what avail was uiy promise, since Mrs Brill was determined to sit next to tut? "Robert, there is room for you here/' said my wife, when we were about to bo seated, and she pointed to a vacant, chair. Mrs, Briil ob served her look and said. "Don't bo alarmed, Mrs. Wotherby. Al though bulling they say is catching, when it gets iuto a regiment, don't suppose I'd bo so weak as to go off with tbe cornet, Brill on the staff." Sophy roared with laughter; and so did eve ry ouo who heard Mrs. Brili's remark. "Have you congratulated tbe colonel?" 1 in quired of Mrs. Brill. "No said she, "and 1 don't infond. lam not au impostor aud hypocrite, liku some other la dies whom I could mention." (She looked ui my wife.) "1 always speak my feelings. An honest man's tLo uoblest work of God—aud *o's a woman." I tilled Mrs. Brill's glass several times with obauipagre, and the beverage appeared to im prove her teuiptr. I trod upon her toe by acci dent, end she looked blandly in my face and said: I "Don't flirt with mo, cornet, before your wile. or you'll be unking her unhappy, poor thing ; | and she's not a bid creature, though she look? [ a wretched dawdle, and his no more .idea ol housekeeping than a black-brush has. It was unfortunate that she chummed with Mrs. File teigii, for hoi character is compromised by it, poor-thing. Don't flirt with in •, cornet. Brill, too, has got his bleary eyes on us." i memoes TIIEHSIOHICTEU. At IG, impatient palpition towards tiia la dies. At 17, Blushing and confusion in conversing with them. At 18, Confidence in conversing with them increased. At 19, Angry if treated by them as a boy. At 20; Very conscious of his own charms and manliness. A: 21, A looking glass iu his room indispea sitfle—to admire himself. At 22. Insufferable puppyism. At 23, riiinxs uo woman good enough for him. At 24, Caught unawares ty the snares of Cupid. At 25, The connexion broken off, for self conceit oil his own part. Ar 2G, Conducts himself with much superi ority toward.* her. At 27, Pays his addresses to another la dy, not without the hope of mortifying the first. At 23, Mortified and frantic at being refu. sed. At 29, Rails against the fair sex ia gene ral At 30, M nose ari l out of humor Iu ail con versation on matrimony. At 31, Contemplates matrimony move under the influence <>t ids inter est than formerly. At 32, Considers pus-ma.] beauty iu a wife not so indi-pens ib e as formerly. At 33, Hiili maintain* a Ugh opiuiou of his own a-, tractions as a hush and. At 31, Consequently has jo idea but he may still at ir*y a "chicken." Ai 35, Fulls deeply and violently iu love with one o{ seventeen, j At 3fJ, Another refusal, j At 37, Indulges ij every kind of dissipa i tien. i At 38, Shuns the best part of the female . ■ r - ■** * At 30, Suffers much remorse and mortifica tion on so doing. At 40, A fresh budding of matrimoaial ideas—no spring shoots. At 41, A very nice young widow perplexes him. At 42, Ventures to uidres- her with miwed sensation,.of luvc and it.ti n'?t. At 43, ititci-st prevails, wtiieh causes much cautious refl eii"u. j At 41, The widow jilts him, being as aau tious as himself. At 43, Becomes every day mote averse to -the fai'- s< x. At 4(3, Gouty and nervous symptoms begin to appear. At 17. Fears what may become of him when old and infirm. At 43, Thinks living "alose ' quite irk some. j At 49, Resolves to have a very prudent 'young' woman as Lions;keeper and compan ion. At 50, Nervous affectation about him, and fnqnent atfajks of the gout. At 51, Much pleased with his own bouse, i keeper us a nurse. j At 52, Begins to feet'soma' attachment to j he;*. At 53, His pride revolts at the idea of mar j ryinq her. At 54, I* in very great distress how to net. At 55, Completely under bor influence and ! miserable. I At SG, Many painful thoughts about purt j ing with her. At 57, She refuses to live any longer with him solo. At 58, Gouty, nervous and biliious to ex -0 £3. At, 59, Falls very ill, sends for her to his bedside, and intends espousing her. At 60, Grows iapidly worse, has his will made iu her favor, and makes his exit. —Punch. ' LETTER OF A DYING WIFE TO lIEU HUSBAND. The following touching fragment of a letter | from a dyif.g wife to her husband, was found by him some months after her death, between the leaves of a religious volume, which she was very fond of perusiug. The letter was svrittcn long before bet husband was aware that the grasp of a fatal disease had fastened upon the lovely form of his wife, who died at the early ago of nineteen: "When this shall reath your eye, dear George, some day when you are turning over the relics of the pufct, 1 sisall have passed away forever, and the cold white stone will he keeping its lonely watch over the lips you have so often pressed, and the sod will be growing green that shall hide forever from your sight the dust of one who has often nestled close to your warm heart. For many long and sleep less liight®, when all besides my thoughts were I at rest, I have wrestled with a consciousness | of approaching death, until at l<st it basfurui | itself upon my mind; and although to you, to I others, it might now seem hot. the nervous ima ginings of a girl, yet, de.r George, it is sol- Many weary hours have I passed in the eu deuVor to reconcile myself to leave you, whop) 1 love so well, and this blight world of sun shine and beauty; and hard indeed it is to struggle on sil ntly aud alone with tire sure conviction that I urn about to leave all forever aud go down iiito tho dark' valley! "Bull know in whom I have believed," and leaning on liis aru, "I fear no evil," Do not blame me for keeping even all this from you. How coahi I subject you, of ali others, to such a sorrow as I feel at parting, when time will soon make it apparent to you? I could have wished to live if only to be at your side when your time ahull come, and pil lowing your head upon iny breast, wipe the death damps from your brow, and u;her yoar departing spirit into the Maker's presence, em balmed in woman's holiest prayer. But it is cot to be—and 1 submit. Yours is the.privi lege of watching, through lung and dreary nights, for the spirit's final flight, and of trans furring my sinking head from your breast to my Savior's bosom. And you shall share my lust thought, and the last faint pressure of my hand, and the last feeble ki-s shall bo yours, and even when flash and heart shall have fail ed me, my eyes spall rest on yours until gla zed by death; and oar .spirits shall koid one U-t communion, uuti; gently fading from my view—the last of eartn—you shall mingle with the first bright glimpses of the uufadmg glories ot the better world, where partings are unknown. \\ ell do 1 know the spot, uiy dear George, where you null lay me; often we stood by the pi me, and as we watched (He mellow SUB SET, as it glanced in quivering Sashes thro' the leaves, and burnished the grassy mounds around ns with the stripes of burnished gold, each has thought that some day ©tie of is would come uioiif, aud whichever it might be, your name would bo on the stone. Hut we loVevLthe spot, and I kunw you will love it use less when y©u see the same quiet su W*' fcr 3 p'ay among the grass that gross over your Mary a grave, i know you wilt go there, and my spirit will be with ycu then, aud whimper among the waving branches —"i am not last, but gone before." THE HAIR OF THE PRESIDENTS. In the Patent Office at Washington, then* are many objects oi iutcrests, connected with the government m<u iho.e who administered its affairs in tunes gene by. While examining scene 0, these objects of curiosity , when in VV ashingror> in December last, there wasuotu iog that struck us so forcible as the samples, '<f small locks if hair, takcu from the heads of different chief from Washington down to Pierce, secured in a frame covered with glass. Here is in fact a parcel of what once constituted the living body of those illus trious individuals whose names are as familiar as household words, but who nose lire only io history aud remembrance of the past. The hair of Washington is nearly a pure white, fine and smooth in appearance. That of John Adams i, nearly the same in cob r, though perhaps a litle coarse. The hair of Jefferson is of a different elm acier, being a mixture of white and auburn or a sandy brown, aud ra'ber coarse. In bis youth Mr. Jefferson's Luir was remarkable tor its color. The hair of Madison is coarse, and of a mix ed white and dark. 1 he hair of Monroe is a handsome dark au burn, smooth and free from any admixture whatever, lie is the only President, except ing Pierce, whose hair had undergone no change in color. 'J he hair of John Q. Adams is somewhat peculiar, being coarse, and of a yellowish gray j iti color. The hair of General Jackson is almost a per fect while, but coarse in its character, as might be supposed by those who have examined the portraits of the old hero. The hair of Van Dure a is white and smooth ia appearance The hair of General Harrison is-a Sao white, with a slight admixture of black. Tlie hair of John Tyler is a mixture of while and brown. The hair of James K. Polk is almost a pure white. The hair of General Taylor is white, with a slight admixture of brown. The hair of Millard FiUuorc, is on the oili er hand, btown, wi b a slight admixture of WHITE. The hair of Franklin Pierce is of a dark brown, of which lie has a plentiful crop.— Sunbury American. Two country lawyers overtaking a wagoner, and thinking crack a j ike on him, asked, with assumed gravity— ' Pray, mister wagoner, how is it that your lead horse is so fat and the other so lean?' The wagoner, with sharp penetration, re plica: 'Well, ye see the reason is plain—the lead horse is a lawyer, and the other twourobis client.".' The j.-kcrs vamosed iustanttr. "ALL FLESH IS GRASS.— A WESTERN edi tor, speaking of one of his brethren of the quill, noted fur his futr.es®, remarked that if the Scripture proverb, tlia'. "all flesh is grass," was true, then that man must be a load of hay. "[ suspect I am, from the way the asses are uibbling at me," replied the fat man. A SHOUT RESERVATION. —Joues—Ah, times are haid enough. 1 dined or. carried beef and cabbage yesterday ! Brown—\V by, what did you do with that pair of ducks, I saw you pay a dollar and a quarter fur ? Jonas—Oh—ah—yes. Well, 1 had I hem beside*. ONE OP THE COMPAJRISONS.— The Phila delphia Gazettee, i-peaking of a new prima donna, says, "Her voice is as soft as u roll of velvet, uiid as tender as a pair of slop shop pantaiooue " VOL. 31, I\o. POWER OF A BOA-CONSTRICTOII. His mode of attack gave u,e an insight into the method by which this species of snake do st roys nuiuuLs. The teeth of the boa con strictors being long, and turned bat-It, some thing Hi the Ssli hook shape, the snake darts out and seizes Lola of us prey. Then draw ing i r s bead back again, it pulls the aniiuai to liie ground at oiu.-c, and coiling round it, com mences tho crashing process. The power of squeezing must be enormous. Ou attemptiug to skin this animal, the muscles inside had the appearance of sitings of ropuj extending from the head to tku tail; these he seemed to Ltvo the power of ccatiacting or extending, so that a part that might be three feet long as he coil ed himself round your body, could be instant ly reduced so about a foot, by this means giv ing any otic in bis embrace a very tolerable squeeze, I have before remarked that those snakes are not Considered dangetou.i to man, as th; y are not puisoaouq and it timse attacked Lad a t'u'.rp kai'e, and managed to keep their arms free, Air. Suake would get the worst of it. if one happened, however, to bo asleep, and a box constrictor thou became familiar, he mffiht a > have wound himself round arms and body as to prevent a knife from being used. I have n u doubt that they have power sufficient to crush any tuau to death in a few seconds, did they once got themselves comfortably settled rouud bis rib-; but I hover heard of such a ease dur ing my residence at Natal, although I made every inquiry from the Kaffir/.* Formally there was a groat deal of supersti tion among the Kaffirs'with regard to this snake, >nd a person who billed one Lad to go through a quarantine of purify tug; now. how ever, tb y do not seem to care much uLotu them, i saw an old inau near the Umbilo river fi tun tig a largo boa constrictor to tho groan*l with several as-aigea to prevent i'a '*i igc*no had about a dozen difforeut ones stuck into h.s body, and seemed to think a few more would uo no Jie rold me that the suake was a great rascal, and had killed a e.df ol bis, some time before, that he hid iong watched the opportunity of catching it 00101' its bole, arm ut lust found it so, when a smart free of some yards ended in the Kaffir assay ing the veal eater.—Sporting Scenes amongst the Kaffirs of South Africa, by L'aptaffi \ \V Draysoß, fi.'A. l*. HEADING ONE'S OWN OBITUARi'. lu the days of old Myeail, the publisher of the Newport (Mass.) Herald, ( i journal $(]:! alive and flourishing.) the Sheriff of old Essex, Philip Bigiey, had been asked several times to pay up hi- arrears of subscription. At lastMio told Mycai that he would certainly 'hand over* the next iiiurning as sure as he lived. 'lf you don't got your money to-morrow, you si-ry be sure I am dead,'said he.' The morrow came aui passed, but no money. Judge or the Sheriffs feedings when, on the morning of the day after, he opened tho •♦Herald," and saw announced the lamented decease of Philip Bagley, Esq., High Sheriff cf the county of E-sex, with au obituary no tice attached, giving the deceased credit for a good uiany excellent traits of character, but adding that he bad one fault very much to bo deplmd—bo was not punctual in paying the printer. Bagley, without waiting for his breakfast, started fur the Herald office. Ou the way it struck him as singular that, none of the many frieiids and acquaintances be met seemed to be 'surprised (o meet him. They must have read the morning papers. Was it possible Utey cared so little about hint as to have forgo tie u already that he wis no more. Full of pertur bation, he entered the printing office to deny that he was dra 1. 'Why, Sheriff" exclaimed the facetious edi tor, 'I thought you were defunct.' 'Defunct!' exclaimed the Sheriff. What put that idea into your head?' 'Why, yourself, * said MyeaM. Did you not tell me ' •Oo! ah! yes' I see,' st.imuiei* J out tho Sheriff. 'Wei', !here's your money,! AfiS now contradict the report in your next paper, if you please.' ♦That's not necessary, friend Bagley,'paid the oi l joker, 'it was only prinft-a in uoar copy Tko good Sheriff lived for many years after this 'sell,' and to the cay of Lis leal death al ways took care to pay the printer. Weightjlif the Cabinet. —A oorrespoc dent of tho Boston Journal snys . "The prescut cabinet is composed of "men of weight," as 1 noticed to-day, on a register kei-t at tlis Smithsonian Institution. Howell Cobb is set down at 2 1< 1 poatias, Gcvcruor Brown at 177; Secretary Tourey U K>(>, Secretary Thompson at 117, and Gov. Floyd 139. I should judge that General Cass wi'l weigh near ly 200 pounds, although ha is not as fleshy as he was a few years since, lie is very active tor one of his age, and walks to the department of State almost every morning without an over coat, aud with ati elastic step. The only way to cure a boy of staying oat iuto at nights, is to break bis iegs, or get tho Calico ha runs with to do tho house work. A Goud Heoplator. —"How late w it?" "Look at t'uo boss and sea if he is drunk yet, if ho is not, it can't be much after eleven o'- clock." •Does be keep good tinw?' 'Splendid! tbuy regulate lowti clock by his nose.' AJ< ICE. — A fellow stole u saw, and on his tri il tol l the Judge he only took it in a joke. ♦How fr did you carry ii'' asked the judg-\ ♦Two miicf,' answered tb : prisoner. 'Ah! that's eany iog e joke too fur" remarked tbo judge, uad ".ha prisoner got three months, unrequited lab".-.