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1 L' ; " I- i.., , SHOOT OF USO AO. ; Wees, at eve I sit atone Thinking of tfa rut and1 Ootie While the clock with drowsy sager f If arks how tone (ha miaates Uiigor, . And the embera dimly oarcing . Tdl sf Ufe u Deeta ratarniuc Taea aj loaeiy chair arouad, Wtia a eviec noorafal souud. Wits a murmur soft aa4 tow, Cssse tbs Oooets f Leaf Ae. OH by e. I eoes them Wr, Votcea, thai are beard aemore, , Tears, teat tostRf. cheeks hare wet, Words, whoee mustc lingers rot Holj faces, pake and fair, Khatiowy tocksof waring hair Happy sighs and whispers dear, Boogs Gsrgouen maar a year. -Lips of dewy firagraoce e-ea Brighter, bluer than the sates Odors breathed tram Paresis, . And tbe genUs shsdowa glide 8o(Ur murmuriog at my atde, . Till lie long unfriendly dy, all Ssrcouea, tades away. . Thus, when 1 am all alone, Ir earning of the Past and Ooae. All around me, sad and alow, - Cams the Ghosts af Lsng Age. . TRIUMPH OF MIND OVER MATTER. , Or. Elder, in his interesting biography of Dr. Kane, relatea that be occe asked him af ter bis return front hi last Artie expedition, -'for tbe best proved instance that be knew of the soul's power over the body an in stance that might posh the bard-baked phil osophy of materialism to the consciousness fits wa idiocy." He paused a moment, and then said with a spring, "The soul can Jilt the body out of its boots sir. ' When our captain was dying 1 ssy dying, I have seen ..scurvy enough to know every old scar in his body was a running ulcer. If conscience festers under its wounds correspondingly, liell is not hard to understand. I never saw a case so bad that either lived or died. Men die of it usually lang before tbey are so ill a he was. There was trouble aboard there might be mutiny. ' So soon as tbe breath was out of his body we might be at each other's throats. " I felt that he owed even the repose of dying to the service. I went down to his . bunk, and shouted in his ear, 'mutiny csptain, mutiny!' lie besrd the complaint, ordered punishment, snd from that hour convalesced. Keep that men a wake with danger, snd be wouldn't die of anything until bia.dutj was done." . THE IMkGK OF THE SB I. - The sea up to that time bad been gener ally regarded by painters a liquidly compos ed level-seeking consistent thing, with a smooth surface, rising to a watermark on ships, in which ships were to be scientific ally imbedded and wetted up to watermark, and to remain dry above the same. But Turner found during his Southern coast tour that the sea was not this; that it was, on the contrary, a very incalculable and un hor izontal thing, setting its "watermark" some times on the highest heavens as well as on sides of ships: very breakable into piece.: half a wave separable from tbe other half, and on the instant carriageable miles in land;, not in anywise limiting itselt to a state of apparent liqnidty, but now striking a steel guantlet, and becoming a cloud and vanishing, no . eye could tell whither; one moment a flint cave, the next a marble pil lar, the next a mere white fleece thickening the thundery rain. He aever forgot those facts; never afterwards was able to recover the idea of positive distinction between sea and land. Steel guantlet, black rock, white cloud, and men and masts, gnashed to pie ces and disappearing in a few breath, and -splinters among them! a little blood on the rock angle, like red sea weed, sponged away by tbe next splash of tbe foam, and glitter ing granite and green Water all pure again in vacant wrath. 80 stayed by him for ever the image of the sea. f Ruskin's Harbor "of England. MAN'g INEVITABLE PORTION. " So have I seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of bis hood, and, at first, ft "Was fair as .the morning, and full with the dew of heaven, as lamb's fleece; bur when a ruder breath bad forced open its virgin mod esty, and dismantled its too youthful and un ripe retirements, it began, to put on dark ness, and todecline 1j softness snd the symp toms of a sickly . age; it bowed the head snd broke its stalk; and at night, having lost some of its leaves, and all its beamy, it fell into the portion of weeds and outworn fices Tbe same is the portion of every man and every woman; the heritage of worms and serpents, rottenness end cold dirhonor, and onr bea tity so changed that our acquaintance quickly knows us not; and that change mingled with so much horror, or else meets so with our fears and weak discoursinge, that tbey who, six hours ago tended upon us either with charitable or am bitious services, cannot without some regret , stay in the room alone, where the body lies stripped of its life and honor. Jeremy Taylor. "THOUGHTS ASD tAJSGCAOU. .' It is not always easy, either in painting or literature to determine where the influence of language stops and where that of thought be gins. Many thoughts are so dependent upon the language in which they ars clothed, that they would lose half their beau.'y if other wise expressed. But the higliast thoughts are those which are least depettde.lt on lahguage.and the dignity of any com'osfion and the praise to which is entitled, are io ex act proportion to its dependency of language and expression. A composition is indeed usually most perfect, when to such intrinsic dignity is added all that expression can do to attract and adorn; but in every case t-f supreme excellence, this all becomes as nothing. We are more gratified by , the simplest lines or words which can suggest the idea in its own naked beauty, than by the rube and gem which conceal while they decorate; we are better pleased to feel by their absence how little they could bestow than by their presence bow much tbey can destroy. THEOLOGY. . Theology is the empress of the world; mysteries sre her privy council; religion is her clergy; ths arts her aobility; philosophy her secretary ; the graces her maids of honor; tfte moral virtues the ladies of her bed chnmberj peace ia her cbamberlaiue; true joy and endless pleasure are her courtiers; plenty her treasurer; poverty ber exchequer; he temple is her court; if thou desire ac cess to this great majesty, the way is by her courtiers; if thou hast no power there, the FRrpmop way to tbe sovereign is the secre tary. Quarles. "iRnissQMrrioiij. Irresolution is a habit which creeps upofl its victim wjth a fatal facility. It ia not vi. cieus but it leads to vice, and mafay a fine heart has paid the penalty of it at tbe scaf fold, -x Trifling as it may appear in the wav ering step of tb fPHPU" Ba they eTro '(,er ita form' changes to tljat or a niueoua mon ster, which leade Ibem to destruction with their eyes open. The idler, ths spendthrift, the epicurean .and the drunkard, are among its victims. Perhaps in the latter, its effects appear in the. most hideous form. He knows that the goblet which be is about to drain is poison, yet he swallows it. He knows, for the example of others has painted it In glar ing colors, that it will deaden all of bis fac ulties, take the strength" from Ins ltmbs ana the happiness from his hearf, oppress htm with foul disease and hurry hia progress to a dishonored crave, yet ba drains it under a species : of dreadful spell, like- that from which small creatures sre said to approach and leap into the taws of a loathsome ser pent, whose fiendish eyes hava fascinated them. How beautiful and manly is the power by which the resolute roan passes un moved through these dangers. . One reason why we sea so few agreeable jn convesrstion, ia that almost everybody is mora intent upon ' what he himself baa t mind to ssy, than upon making pertinent re plis to what tha rest of tha company say to him. - . - ; ' Tbe man who to tha utmost of hia pow er augments the great mass of public or in dividual happiness, will, under all institntioaa and i spit of all ppesntion, pa tha fcappi est of man bianeelf., D'elawa VOL. XLI. THE UN PARDONABLE SIN. BY XaVTHeSlEI. BAWTBOBX. Bertram, the lime-burner, a rough and heavy looking man, begrimed with charcoal, set watr.hinir the kiln at nicrhtfall. while his little son played at building houses with tbe shattered fragment of msrble, when, on the hilWde below them, tbey heard a roar of laughter, not mirthful, but slow, and solemn, ... ven -like a wind shaking tbe boughs of tbe forest. -Father, what is thai!" asked the little boy leaving bis play and pressing betwixt his father's knees. "Oh, some reveller, I suppose," answered the lime-burner; "some merry fellow from the bar-room in tbe village, who dared not laugh loud enough within doors lest he should blow the roof of the bouse off. So, h-re be ia, .baking bis jolly .id. at tbe f of S a 9 Graylock." "But father,' said the child, more sensitive than the obtuse, middle-aged clown, "be does not laugh like a man that is glad; so tbe noise frightens me!" ' "Don't be a fool, child!" cried the fsther, gruffly; "you will never make a man, 1 do believe there is too much ot your mother in you. 1 have known tbe rustling of a leal to startle ber. Hark, here comes the merry fellow now. You shall see thai there is no harm in him." Bertram and his little son, while they were talking thus, sat watching the lime-kiln. It was a rude, round, tower-like structure, about twenty feel high, heavily built of rough stones, and with a hillock of earth heafed about the larire part of its circumference, so that the blocks and tegmenta of marble co'd be drawn by cart loads and thrown in at the top. Tnere was an opening m me uui- tom of the tower, like an oven moutn, oui large enough to admit a roan in a stooping posture and provided with a massive iron door. With the smoke and jets of flams issuing from the chinks and crevices of this iron door, which seemed to give admittance into tbe hill-side, it resembled nothing so much as the private entrsnce to the infernal regions mm me j" !...--"-- a which the sheperds of the Delectable Moun- tains were accustomed to show to pilgrims. ' There are many such lima kilns in that ; oo; o( wood looking steadfastly at the iron tractof country, for the purpose of burning door of the kiln. When the child was out of the white marble which composes a large j sjgntf mna the swift and light toot-steps ceas part of the substance of those hills. Sjme j ea . oe heard treading first on tbe fallen of them, built years ago, and long deserted, i eave8 an(j tbeudownon the rocky mountain with weeds growing in the vacaut ground of pa,n ,ne lime-burner be-ran to regret his de the interior, which is open to the sky, and parture. He felt thit the little leljow'a grass and wild flowers rooting themselves in J pre,ence had been a barrier between his the chinks ot the stones look already like ;-caost and himself, that he must now deal relics of antiquity, and may yet be overspread ; with thq (inches of centuries to come. Out ers, where the limeburner still feeds hia daily and nightlong fire, afford points of interest to the wanderer among the hills, who seats himself on a log of wood or a fragment of marb, to bold a chat with the solitary matt. It is lonesome, and when the character is Inclined to thought, may be an intensely thoughtful occupation, as it proved in the eue ef Ethan Brand who had museo to some purpose, in days gone by, while ihe fire in this very kiln was burning. The man who now watched the fire was ol a different order, and troubled himself with no thoughts save the very few that were re quisite in his business. At frequent intervals he threw back tbe clashing weight ot tne iron door, and turning his face from the in - j sufferable glare, thrust in huge logs of oak, absence that the dead people, dead and bur or stirred the immense brands with a long ; jea for years, would have more right to ba at pole. Within the furnace were seen the j home in any lamiliar spot than he. Eihan curling and riotous flames, and the burning i Brand it was said had conversed with Satan marble almost molted with the intensity of himself in the lurid blaze of that very kiln, the beat; while, without, the reflection of the flie legend bad been a matter ot mirth fire quivered on the dark intricacy ot toe surrounding forest, and allowed in the fore ground, a bright and ruddy little picture of tbe hut, the spring beside ita do.r, the ath letic, figure of the lime-burner, and the half Irightened child, shrinking into the protection of his father's shadow. And when again tbe iron door was closed, then re-appeared ! the tender light of the half-full moon, which vainly strove to trace out the indistinct shades j ot the neighboring mountains; and, in the j upper sky, there was a flitting congregation ' of clouds, still faintly tinged with the rosy : ttnset, though far down into the valley the sunshine had vanished long ago The little boy now crept still closer to bis father, as footsteps were heard ascendtng tbe hillside, and a human form thrust aside the brusij that clustered beneath the trees. "Halloa- who is it!" cried the lime burner vexed at ilia son's timidity, yet half inlected by it. -'Como forward and show yourself like a man, or I 'Is throw a chunk of marble at your head.", "You offer me a revgh welcome," said a gloomy voice, as the unknown man drew ntgh, "yet I neither claim tkpr desire a kinder one, even at my. own hresida. To obtain a more distinct new, jjenram threw open the iron door, of the ki.'n, whence immediately issued a gush ot fietfee light that smote full upon the stranger's tace ana figure. To a careless eye there was novhing very remarkable in bis aspect, whicn that of a man in a coarse, brown, was country-made suit of clothes, tall and thin, with the staff and neavy snoes oi me wayfarer. A8 he advanced no nxea nis eye wqich wss very bright-f-inteniiy upon the brightness of tl6 luniace, as it he be held, or expected to behold, some object worthy of note in it. !Good evening stranger," said the lime- burner ! whence came you so late in the day!" 'I come from my sesrch, answered tne wsyfarer.-'for, at iast it is finished." Drunk or crazy!" muttered Bertram to himself. " shall have trouble with the tel low, the quicker I drive him away the hot ter." The little boy all in a tremble, whispered to his father and begged hiii) t,o eliqt e door of his kiln, sothat tbere wight not be so much light, for there was something in the mao'r face wnicn ne was airsio to iuos, at, yet could not look away from him. And indeed even tha lime-burner's null, torpia aense began to be impressed with an inde scribable something at that thin rugged. thoughtful visage, with the grizxeled bair hanging wildly about it, and those deeply sunken eyes, which gleamed like fires at the entrance of a mysterious cayepri -erbut aa he elosed the door, the stranger turned towards him, and apoke in a quiet, familiar way, that made Bert am feel as if he were a sane, sen sible man after all. "Your task draws to an end, I see," (aid he. "This marble has already been burning three days. A few houra mora will convert tbe stone into lime." "Why who are you?" cried the lime-burner; "you seem as well acquainted with my business aa myself." "And well I msy be," said the stranger; "for I followed the craft for many a long year, and, hero too, an this very spot. But you are a new comer ia these parts. Did you aver hear or Ethan Brand" The man that went after tbe Unpardonable SinV Asked Bertrsro with laugh. "The same," answered tbe stranger. He has found what be sought, and therefore he comes back again. "What! then you are Ethan Brand him self, cried tbe lime-burner - in amasement. "I am a newcomer here, as you say, aDd the7 11 eighteen years since you left the ' ' Orajlock. But I can tell you, the 8d Mk ",k -bout Bihaa- Brand in the ilIe nder' nd 'rlaoSe . . Ir bin ... n f r.tm h i a 1 1 tnm Iriln W 1 1 an h m, ... fj.at.ijl tit. FTn nmrAn n. hi A Sinf Even so," said tbe stranger calmly "If the question ia a fair one," proceeded Bertram, "where might it be?" Ethan Brand placed bis finger upon bis own heart. "Here,"eplied be. And then, without mirth in his manner, but as jf moved by the recognition of the inwlunury absurdity of seeking throughout lh. uf.,.1.1 fnr uik.t ur no f UoMt ..fall tkinmi tbe world for what was closest of all things I to himself, and looking into 'every heart save ! his own, for what was hidden ia no other ; breast, be broke into a laugh el scorn, it was the same low, heavy laugh that bad al ! most sppaled the lime-burner when it herald i ed the wayfarer's approach. I The solitary mountain side was made dis . mat by it. Laughter, when out of place, mistimed or bursting forth from a disordered state of feeling, may be the most terrible modulation of the human voice. The laugh ter of one asleep, even if it be a little child, the madman's laugh, or the wild, screaming laugh of an idiot, are souods that we tremble to bear, and would always willingly forget. Poets have imagined no utterance of fiends or bobgoblings so fearfully appropriate as a laugh. And even the obtuse lime-burner lelt bis nerves shake as this strange roan looked inward at his own heart and burst : into laughter that rolled away in tbe night, and was distinctly reverbrated among the ' bills. J "Joe," said he to his little son, "scamper down to the tavern in tbe village, and tell tbe jolly fellows there that Ethan Brand has come back, and that he has found the Un pardonable Sin." alio uuj urn lcu snj vu uia cuauu, tu which Etban Brand made no objection, nor The boy darted away on bis errand, to seemed hardly to notice it, as be sat on Dear, to neart. with a man, who, on his own catifesiqn,had committed the. only crime for which heaven could afford no mercy. Tu-jt crime, in its indistinct blackness seemed to wershadew him. Tiie lime-burner's own sins rose up wiibitl Uiia, and made his memory riotous with, a -.throng of evil shapes that assenad their kindred with the master sin, whatever that might be, which it was within the scope of man's corrupted na ture to conceive and cherish. They were au 0r on8 family; they went to and fro be- tween his breast and Ethan Brand's, and car ried dark greetings trom one to the other. Then Bertram remembered the stories that had grown traditionary in reference to this strange man, who bad come upon him like the shadow o: a night, and was making him 8eif al home in bis old place, alter so long an hereiolore but looked grimly now According to bis tale, betore Ethan depart ed on his search he had been accustomed to evoke a fiend from the hot furnace at the lime-kiln, night after night, in order to con fer with him about the' Unpardonable Sin; the man and the fiend each laboring. to frame the image of some model of guilt which could neither be atoned for, nor lorgiven. And, at the first gleam oi light trom the mountain. top, tbe fiend crept in at the iron auor, there to aside the iniensest element 0 fire, until azain summoned forth .o share in the dreadful task ot extending man's pos sible guilt beyond the scope of Heaven's in- finite mercy While-tbe lime-burner was struggling with the horror's of these thoughts, Ethan Brand rose from tbe lag and threw open the djor ot the kiln. The action was in such accord ance with the idea in Bertram's mind, that he expected to see the evil one issue forth trom the raging furnace. "Hold, hold!" cried he, with a tremulous attempt to laugh, for be was ashamed of his fears, although they overmastered biui. "Don't for mercy's sake, bring out your devil now!" "Man!" sternly replied Ethan Brand, "what need have I of ihe devil! I have left him far behind me on the track. It is with such half-way sinners as you that he busies himself. Fear not because I open the door. I do but act my old custom, and am going to trim your fire, like a lime-burner, as I was once." He stirred the vast coals, thrust in more wood, and beat forward to gaze into the hol low prison house of fire, regardless of the fierce glow that redJeped upon his lace. The lime-burner sat watching him. and hall suspected bis guest of purpose, if not to evokes fiend, at least to plusge iodily in jq (b,e flames, and thus vanish irom tbe sight of man. Ethan Qrand, however, drew quiet ly back, and closed the door of the kiln. "I have looked," said he, "into many a human heart that was seven times hotter with sinful pulsion tijan your furnace is with fire. " But I found ngt tl)ere wljat sought. No, not the Unpardonable n!" ' ::yhat was the ?Jnpard(iat)le Sinl" asked the liine-burner, and then shrunk further from his companion; trembling lest his ques tion sh.mld be answered; "It is a sin that grew within my own breast," regl'81! Eihin, standing erect with a gride J.laf distinguishes aJJ enthusiasts of l)is stamp; "a sin that grew no where else! The sin qf at) intellect tljat had triumphed oyer the sense ot brotherhood with man and reverence for God, and sacrificed everything to its own mighty claims! The only sin that deserves a recompense of immortal agony! Freely were I to do it again, would I incur the guilt. Unshrinkingly I accept the retribution!" "The man's head is turnedY1 muttered the lime-burner to himself. "He may be a sia- ner like the rest of qs, nothing more likely, but I Will ha awqpn he is a madman toe." Nevertheless he felt very uncomfortable at his situation, alone with Ethan Brand, on the wild mountain aide, and was right glad tfl hear the rough murmur of tongues, and footsteps of what seemed a pretty numerous party stumbling over the stones anu rustling throueh the uuder-brush. Soon appeared the whole laxy regiment that wsa wont to invest tne village tavern comprising some three er four individuals DELAWARE, OHIO, that had drak flip beside tbe bar-room fire' through all the winters, and smoked their pipe through all the summers, since Ethos Brand's departure. Laughing boistrously and mingling all together in unceremonious talk, tbey now burst into the msonshine, and narrow streaks of fire light that illuminated the open space before the lime-kiln. Ber tram set the door ajar again, flooding the spot with light, so that the whole party might get s fair view ot Etban Brand and he ef them. Among other old acquaint ances there wsa once an obiquitious man, now almost extinct, but whom we were sure to encounter t the hotel of every thriving village throughout the country. It was the stage agent. The present specimenof the genus was a wilted and smoke dried man, wrinkled and red nosed, in a smartly cut, brown, bob tailed coat, with brass buttons, who for a length of time unknown, had kept his desk in the corder in the bar-room, and was still puffing what seemed to be the same cigar that be bad lighted twenty years ago. He had great fame as a dry joker, though perhaps less on account ol any intrinsic humor, than from a certain flavor of brandy toddy and tobacco smok that impregnated all bis ideas and ex pressions, as well as his person. Another well remembered though strange ly altered face, was that of lawyer Giles, as the people still called him through cour tesyan elderly ragmuffin, in his soiled shirt sleeves and linen trowsers. He hsd been an attorney in what he called better days a sharp practitioner, and in great vogue among the village litigants; but flip, and sling, and toddy, and cocktails imbibed at all hours morning, noon and night bad caused bim to slide from intel lectual to various kinds and degrees of bodi ly labor, till at last to use bis own phrase he slid into a soap vat. In other words Giles was a soap boiler in a small way. He had come to be but tha fragment of a human be ing a part of one fool having been chopped off by an axe, and an entire hand torn away by the devilish grip of a steam engine. Yet, though the corporeal band was gone, a spirit ual member remained; for stretching forth tbe8tuinp, Giles steadfastly averred that he felt aa invisible thumb and finger, with as viv ed a sensation as before the real one was amputated. A maimed and miserable wretch he was; but one whom the world could not trampln on and bad no right to scern, in this or any other of his misfortunes, since he had still kept up the courage aud spirit of a man, asked nothing in charity, and with his one hand and that tbe left one fought in stern battle agaiost want and hostile circum stances. Among the throng, too, came aaother personoge, who with certain points of simil arity, to Lawyer Giles, had many more of difference. It was ihe village doctor, a man of some. City years, who at an early peri od ol his lite, we should have introduced as paying a professional visit" to "Ernatr iSrand," during the latter'a supposed insanity. He was now a purple visage, rude and brutal, yet half-gentlemanly figure, with something wild, ruined and desperate in his talk, and in all details of his gestures and man nerg. Brandy possessed this man like an evil spirit and made htm as surly and savage as a wild bens', and as miserable as a lo-rt soul; but there were supposed to be in him such won derful skill, such native gifts of healing, be yond all which medical science could impart, that society eatfght hold of In in, and would not let him sink out of its reach. So, sway ing to and fro on his horse,and grumbling t trick accents at the bedside, he visited all Ufa sick chambers for miles about among the moun tain towns, and sometimes raised a dying man, as it were by a miracle 'quite as often, no doubt, sent his pstieiuto" "a grave (hat was dug many a year too soon. The doctor had an everlasting pipe in hie'mouth; and as somebody said in allusion to his habit of swearing, it was always alight with hell fire. These three worthies pressed fofWard. and greeted Ethan each after his own fashion, earnestly inviting him to partake of the con tents ot a certain black bottle, in which, as they averred, be would find semething far belter worth seeking for, than thu Unpardon able Sin. No mitld Winch lias Wroll'lt itsslr by in tense and solitary meditation, into a high state of enthusiasm, Can endure this Kind of contact with low and vulgar modes ot feeling and thought to which Etban Brand was now subjected. It made bim doubt, and strange to say, It Was a painful doubt, Whether be' had found the Unpardonable Sin, and found It within himself. - The whole question on which he had exhausted life and more than life, looked now like a delusion. j "Leave me," said ' he bitterly, "ye brute beasts, that have made yourselves so, shrivil ing up your souls with fiery liquors! Years ago I grope J into your hearts and found noth ing there form purpose. Get ye g ne!" "Why, you uncivil scoundrel," cried the fierce doctor, "is that the way you respond to the kindness of your best friends! Then let me tell you the truth. You have no more found the Unpardonable Sin than yon der boy Joe has. You are but a crazy fellow. I told you so twenty years ag-; neither bet-' ter nor worse than a crazy teilow, and the fit companion of old Humphrey, here." He pointed to an old man, shabbily dressed, with long, white hair, thin visage, and un steady eyes. For some years past this aged person had been wandering about among the hills, inquiring of all the travelers he met for his daugnter. Tbe girl, it seemed, had gone off with a company of circus performers. and occasionally tidings of her came to the village, and fine storiea were told of her glit tering appearance as she rode on kordeback in the ring, or pjrfor'U'd mirv-Jio us feats on ttje ligiit-rope. The while hiiref fathar now approached Ethan Brand and gazed unsteadily into his face. "They te)J me tfyat you have been all a ver life earth,'' said he, wringing his baud with earnestness. ."You must have seen my daugeter, for she makes a great figure in the world, sod every body goes to see hor. Did she send any word to her old liJ?er, or say when she is cqmi ng backj Ethan CrunJ's eye quajjed beneath that of the old man's. That daughter from whom he so earnestly desired a word of greeting, Elha Prand had made a subject of a psy chological experiment, snd wasted, perhaps annihilated her soul in the process. "Yes," murmured he, turning from fh,e hoary wanderer, "it is no delusiurj. 'liere is an unpardonable Sin!" Wnile these things vysw pasog. a merry scene Was going forward in the area, of a cheerful light, beside tbe spring and before the door of the but. A number of the youth of the village, young men and girls, hsd hurried up tbe hill-side, impelled by curiosity to see, Ethan, the hero Of so many a legend familiar to their childhood, "riftajng'riofhi'ng. oow'eyejr, yery remarkable b.)iii.upi'ttgStait,t a, sun-born t;way(srsT, In plain and duy ' ti MtbB Witwtitmt silt WbH&sb. AtJGUST 27, 1858. ( shoes, who sat looking into the lire, s if be .fancied pictures among the coals, these tyoaag people speedily grew tired of obser j ving aim. As it happened, there was oth CrNtiausement stband. An old German Jew : traveling with a diorama on his back, was j passing down the mountain road toward the village just as the party turned a.-de from it; and. in bopes of eking out tbe profits of tbe day, the showman had kept them company ta the lime-kiln. "Come old Dutchman," cried one of the young men, "let us sne your pictures if you 1 eW'e,rtney re worth looking at." I ye, captain," answered the Jew whether as a matter of courtesy or craft, ; he I'y led everybody captain "I shall in : deed show you some very superb pictures!" 1 So, placing the box in a proper position, he invited the young men and girls to look through the glass orifices of the machine, , and proceeded to exhibit a series of the ; most outrageous scratchings and daubings, mm specimens sf the line srts, that ever an itinerant showman had the face to impose upon the cirte of his spectators. The pic j tunes were worn out, moreover, full of cracks, : aod dingy by tobacco smoke, and otherwise ia Ji. moat pitiable condition. Some purport ed public edifices, and ruined ensiles in Eu rope : others represented Napoleon's battles sod Nelson's se. fights; and in the midst of these might be seen a gigantic brown hand, which might have been mistaken tor the hand of Destiny, though it was only the showman's, pointing bis forefinger to the various scenes of the conflict, while its own er gave bistorical illustrations. When with muMi merriment at its abominable deficien cy of merit, the exhibition was concluded, the German bade little Jje put his head in thejjox. Viewed through the magnifying glass, the boy's round rosy visage assumed thei-strangest imaginable aspect of an im mense Titanic child, the mouth grinning broadly, nnd the eyes and every other feature overflowing with the joke. Suddenly, how ever, that merry face turned pale, and i ts ! expression turned to horror, for this easily impressed and excitable child had become sensible that the eyes of Ethan Brand were - fixd upon him through the glass. ! "you make the little man afraid, captain," said the Jew. turning up the dark and strong ouilin s uf his visag from his stooping pos ture. "But look again, and by chance, I shall cause you to see something thatjs very fine, upon my word;" Eibso Brandgtized Iffto the box for an ia ' staut, and then starting back looking fixedly : at the German, What had he seen ! Noth i ing, apparently; for a youth, who had peeped , in almost at the same moment, beheld only 1 a vacant space o: canvass. "I remember you now," muttered Eihan Brand to the showman, j "Ah, csptaift," whispered the Jew of ' Wureinborghr, wilh a dark smile, "I find it to i be, jeavy matter in my show-box this Un pardjKiable Sin! By my faith; captain, it ttas weari ed my shoulders Ibis day to carry ; over the mountain." , " Peace !" answered E.han Brand sternly, ; "or get thee into the furnace yonder." j Th e JeW's exhibition had scarcely con 1 etoded, when a great elderly dog who seemed to be his own nVister, a3 no person ! in "the. company- latd claim to him saw fit I to render himself the obj-ct of public notin e. ' Hithertohe had shown himself as a very quiet, j well disposed old dog, going around from one : la another, and by the way of being sociable, offering his rough head to be patted to any kind hand that would take so much trouble. But now, ail ot a puriiien, this grave arfd venerable quadruped, of. his owo (Sere mo tion, aud without tbe slightest suggestion from any-body else, began to run round ai 1 ter his tail, which to heighten the absurdity ' at the scene, was a great deal shorter thin it should have been. Never was seen sich a headlong eagerness in pursuit of an object that cuuld not possibly be obtained; never was such a tremendous outbreak of growl ing, snarling, barking and snapping, as if one end of tne ridiculous brute's body were at deadly and most unl'orgiveable enmity wilh the other. Faster and faster round a bout went the cur, and lastsr and still taster fled tle unapproachable brevity cf his tail, and louder and fiercer grew his yells of fage and uuinusity, until utterly exhausted, and as tar trom the goal as ever, the loutish old dog caast-d his performance as suddenly as he had begun it. The next moment he was quiet, mild, sensible, and respectable in his deportment as when be at first scraped ac quaintance with the company. As may be supposed, the exhibition was greeted with univenal laughter, clapping of hands, and slloutsuf "Encore!" to Which the canine performer responded by wagging all that there was to wag ot his tail, but appear, ed totally unable to repeat his very success ful effort to amuse the spectators. Meanwhile, Etban Brand had resumed bis scat on the log, and moved, it might be, by a preceplion of some remote analogy be tween his own case and that of this self pursuing cur, be broke into that awful laugh which more than any other token, expressed his inward being. And at that moment the merriment of the parly was at an end; they stood around, dreading leal the inauspicious sound should be reverberated around the horizon and mountain should thunder it to mountain, and so be prolonged upon their ears. Then, whimpering to one another that it was late; that tbe moon was almost down; lhat the August night was growing chill, they hurried homeward, leaving the lime burner and little Joe, to deal as they might with their unwelcome guest. Save tor these three human beings, the open space on the hill-side was a solitude, set in a vast gloom of forest. Boyond that verge the fire-ligljts glimmered on the stately trunks and almost black foliage of the pines, intermixed with tiiS lighter verdure of sap ling oaks, maples' and poplars, while here and there lay the gigantic corpses of trees, decaying on the leal-strewn soil. And it seemed to little Joe a timorous and imag inative child lhat the silent forest was hol ding its breath, until some fearful thing should happen. Ethan Brand thrust more wood into the fire, aud closed the door of the kiln: then i looking over bis shpglder at tlje Jime-burner ' and his son, he bade, rather than advised, them to retire tg feet. "For myself JI cannot sleep," said he; "I have matters that concern me to meditate upon. ' I will watch the fire as I used to do in olden time." "Aud call the devil out of the furnace to keep, you company, I suppose," muttered Bertram, who had been making intimate ac quaintance with the black bottle above mentioned;. !'.But wlPh if you like, and call as mav. devils 09 you llife) For my part, I aha,", feel all t,he better for a snooze. Cc;ne, JeV-l Ai.thys followed his tather.. in,to. the hut, he, lofijjJIo Bcl at the w.ayrar.ex, and tears camti.injUj his eyes. for bis leader spirit baaaaitiri. & tjhe. bleak and. terrible loneliness in which this wan bad enveloped himself. When they were gone, Ethan Brand sat listening to the cracking of tbe kindled wood and looking at the spirits of fire that istued through the chinksof the door. These tri fles, however, once so familliar, bad but the slightest hold uf his attention, while deep within his mind he was reviewing- the grad ual and marvelous change which had been wrought upon bim by the search to which he had devoted himself. He remem bered how the nifht dew had fallen ttpon bim; bow the dark forest hsd whis pered to him, bow tbe stars hsd gleam ed upon bim, a simple aad loving man watching bis Sre in years gone by, and e ven musing as it burned. He remembered with whai tenderness, wilh wbst love and sympathy for mankind,- and what pity for hu man guilt snd watt he bad first begun to contemplate those ideas whtci afterward became the inspiration ef his life; with what reverence he bod looted irrf'J tte 1,-eart of man, viewing it as a temple orig'iftalJy divine, and, however desecrated. Still to be held sscred by a brother; and with' what awful fear he had deprecated his ptrs!rit, and prayed that the Unpardonable Sin might never be revealed to him. Then en sued that vast intellectual development which, in. its progress, disturbed the counter poise between his mind snd heart. The idea that possessed bis life bad acted as s means of education; it had raised him from the level of an unlettered laborer to stand an a star-light laden eminence whither; the philosophers of earth, wilh the lore of the universe might vainly strive to clamber after him. So much for intellect! But where was the hesrt! That indeed, had withered, had contracted, had hardened, had perished! It had ceased to partake of the universal throb. He bad lost bold of the magnetic chain of humanity. He was no lunger a brother man, opening the chambers or the dungeons of our common nature by the key of holy sympathy, which gave him a right to share in all its secrets; he is now a cold observer, looking on mankind as the subject of his experiment , and at leagth con vening man and woman to be bis puppets, and pulling the wires that moved them to such a degree of crime as were demanded for hia study. - Thus Ethan Brand became a fiend. He began to be so from the moment that his moral iMore had ceased to keep pace of improvement with his intellect. And now as his highest effort, and inevitable devel opeme nt as the bright snd gorgeous flower and rich, delicious iruit of bis life's labor be bad discovered the Unpardonable Sia, "What more have I to seek! What more to achieve!" said Ethan Brand to himself. "My task is done, and well done!" Starting front the lug with a certain a lacrity in his gait, and ascending the hillock lhat was raised against the stoue circumfer ence 'ot the lime-kiln, he thus reached the top ef the structure. It was a space of per haps ten feet across, from edge to edge, pre senting a view of the. immense muss of broken marble wilh which tbe kiln was heaped. All these innumerable blocks and fragments oi ni'txibie Were red-hot, and vivid ly on fire, sending up great spouts' of blue flame, which quivered aloft, and danced mad ly as within a magic circle, and sank aud ruse again', With' coutihual' and multitudi nous activity. As the lonely man bent forward over this terrible body ot fire, the blasting heatsmute up against bis body with a breath that, it might be supposed, would have scorched and sbrivled him up in a nio- Et.hai Brand stood erect, an'u fsttrtrd'bis arms un high. The blue flame played upon his face, and imparted the wild and ghastly light which alone could have suited the ex pression, it was that of . a fiend on the verge of plunging into tMensest torment. "O, Mother Earth','' cried be, "who art no more uiy mother, and into whose bos onr this frame shall ire Ter be resolved! O, man kind, whose brotherhood I have cast off, and trampled thy great bean beneath my feet! O, stars of heaven, that shone un me of old as if to light me onward and upward! Fare well all, and forever! Come, deadly ele ment ot fire, henceforth my familiar friend! Embrace me as 1 do fhee!" That night the sound of a fearful peal of laughter rolled heavily through the sleep of the time burner und his sou; dim shapes ol horror and anguish haunted their dreams, arid seemed still present when they opened iheir eyes to the daylight. "Up. boy, up!" cried the lime burner star ing about him. "Thank heaven the night bus gone at last, and rather than pass an other such, I would watch my lime-kiln. wide awake for a twelvemonth. This E- I than Brand with his humbug of an Unpar donable Sin. has d'jne me no such mighty favor by taking my place." lie issued from the but followed by little Joe, who kept fast hold ul bis father's hand. The early sunshine was already pouring its gold upon tbe inontitain-tops, and though th? valleys were still in the shadow, they smiled cheerfully in the promise ot the bright day that was hastening onward. The village, completely shut in by hills that gsntly away about it. . looked as if it had rested peacefully ia the hand of Providence. Each dwelling was distinctly visible; the little spires oi the two churches pointed up brightness from the sun gilt skies upon their weather cocks. The tavern was astir, and the figure of the old smoke dried stage n gent, cigar in mouth was seen beneath the stoop. Old Graylock was glorified wilh a golden cloud upon his head. Scattered likewise on the breasts of the surruunjing mountain were heaps of hoary mists, in fantastic Bhapcs. some far down into the val ley, others high up to v ward the stun mils, and still others of the same family of mist and clouds, hovering in the gold radience of . the upper atmosphere. Stepping from one j ta another of the clouds that rested . on the bills and thence to the loftier brothor- j hood lhat sailed in air, it seemed as if m"r- j tal man might thus ascend to heavenly re gions. Earth was so mingled wilh the sky lhat it was a day dream to look at it. To supply a. cbarni of the fauiiltiar and horn ley which nuture so redadily adopts into a scene like this, the stage coach was rat ling down the mountain road, and the driver soundidg his horn, while each caught up the notes and intertwined them into rich, and varied and elaborate harmony , of which the original perlormer could lay claim to little share. The great hills played a con cert among themselves, each contributing a strain oi airy sweetness. Little Joe's face brightened at once. "Dear father." cr.1 he, cheerfully skip ping to and fro, "tha "rfengo mau is gone and the sky and moi rns'-trittieem glad ol it!" I "K "Yes," growled ti lrnT,.yiih oath.J'but he has Jot 9 go'dWirid . ... ' -r j- -ct A.a thanks to him, it fit lime are not spoilt. Y !? ifd'slre! oi Slcb.lra teaw hereabouts strain. him into tha furnace,,, w- Tlts 0 NUMBER 21. With his long pole in hand, be ascended to tbe top of the kiln. After a moments pause he called to bis son: "Come up here Joe," said he. So little Joe ran up tbe hillock and stood by his father's side. The marble was burnt into perfect snow white lime. But, on the surface, in the midst of tbe circle snow white, too, snd thoroughly converted into lime lay a human skeleton, in the attitude of a person who, stter long toil, ays down to long repose. Within the, ribs was toe shape of a human heart. "Was the fellow's heart mvl-f of marble!" cried Bertram, in aome perplexity at this phenomenon . "Ar any rate, it Is burnt in to what is called special good iime, and ta king sil the bone together, my kiln is a hall a bujhH richer by him. So saying, the lime burner lifted his pule and lettin? it fall upon the skeleton, tha relics of Etban B and were crumbled into fragments. (jnd ,n) lUiutruUJ A wt. . Cancer Core. TI:e aHilw.iukee Democrat recently noticed tbe ease cl Mr. Mison, proprietor of .a mu sic store in' that city a! brother of Lowell Mison who was cured of a cancer upon hi face, after1 tile removal by ihe knife arid re appearance of the disense. Ife w'as tea'ts J bea Cincinnati prysiciar, aMef" tiVe process of Dr. Fell of I'jndufVV described' as lolluws; "A (' trticliing-plaster was put over the cancer, with' a circular piece cut out of the center a little larger than the cancer, so j that the cancer and a entail circular riiiY of healthy skin nest to it were exposed.' Then a plaster made of chloride of zinc, blo'odrout and wheat-fl iur, was spread on' a trier," of muslin of the size of this circular opening, and applied to the cancer for twenty.our hours. On removing it, the cancer will be found burnt into, and appear of the color and hardness of an old shoe-sole, and the circular rim outside of it will appear white and parboiled, as if scalded by hot steam. The wound is now dressed, and the outside rim soon suppurates, snd the cancer comes out in a hard lump, and ihe place heals up. The plaster kills the cancer, so that it sloughs out like dead flesh, and never grows again.' This remedy has been used in this city successfully. We have seen a cancer which was removed entire from the face of an es teemed lady of ibis City, by Dr. Dolley. The ufflicted should know that there a rem edy which is so nearly infallible. Roch ester Dem, M ftwtfiatsCw- A paragraph is going the rounds"' of the papers how a man named Frazer was recently arrested near Baltimore an J com mitted to jail near Morristown, N. J., from whence he escap ed, when under confinement for counterfeiting. Tbe sto ry touched up with a little rom ance concern ing a sister of his, Who it ia said to bave struggled hard tor a livelihood in her young er days, but who is s great lady at the court of France all of which is true. - This Frazer was once a resident of our county. He came here with Lucien Murat son of the illustrious Murat, and the bsau fifui Caroline B"on'apanc -neice of the old arrd couiirr of the ptesent Emperor". , Lu cien, assisted by this Frazer and a French chap whose name we cannot recall, under took to build a "city" on Indian river, be tween Evan's Mills and Theresa., This was some twenty-three years' ago. The trio was a. preci jus set. Horse-racing and cock fighting were tnctre thoroughly attended to than legitimate business;' still a grist mil!, a few shops and a store were put up, but in the end, went down under the Sheriff's' hammer. Thus begin and ended the great city of "Joachim." Tbe dd mill is still standing as a monument ol LucTsTr Murat's failures in this country. The Wright who built the mill still holds an expensive me mento ol Lucien, in tho form of a "promise to pay"." given for eighteen hundred dollars worth of labor performed. After our adventurers left this county, Frazer went to New York and got rich. Murat went to' B'jrdentown, N. J., married Frszer's sister, ond remained poor. HTie wife actually nppcrted him by frScJSt'ng school. Meantime her brother continued to' Wax fat and fa-t. He became noted as ageittleinen of wealth, leisure and pleasure, withoot giving a thought, it is said, to his relatives, who were then under thfe ff'trwti's'of fortune. Tiie throw of the dice-box of des tiny, which' gve France into the hinili of L mis Napoleon, als'o'gaVe peace and plenty to Lucien Murat an J his very worthy and bard working wife. He is now onts cl' the high dignitaries of Empire, and she is one of the first ladies uf the court. Thus, while she occupies the Elysee Bourbon at Paris tbe brother is awaiting his sentence to serve in the New Jersey State P.-ison. S the "play" goes on. Watertown (N- Y.) Journal. The Pccr-eiv en Frixcr Bltw, A correspondent ol tho Alts California has made trips up Fruzer River to Fort Hope. Of the scenery he says: We were six hours running to the 49th parallel, into tiie clear waters of the Geor gian Gulf, a few miles below which we saw a lew tents on Pi Roberts. . which many persons are anxious should become a large town. The country bordering on the Gulf a nd near the mouth of the river for many miles inland, is fiat, and is evidently subject to overflow. It grows little else than rushes and all willows and water shrubs. The hills rise blue in the distance clothed wilh trees pines, cedars and their kindred. .Many little bayous or sloughs make out from the river. As wo advance, willows and cot louwoods appear of large growth. Near the edges of the stream, aUo, are numbers of large trees, torn out by the roots in the moun tain torrents above, and lelt here in the sand around which bars are formed, which s nine day will become furiile Islands. A few miles further and the growth becomes more dense and increases in sue ash pine, spruce and maple are added to the varieties. 1 observe also, from ihe ship, what appears to bu the low, hard lachs of Maine. The flowing stalks of tall Ctastriat, and a red tl-awering spirea, are abundant. I n ileus o quantities ol drift-wood are on the banks.- We pass very many green islands all hav ing length. Now on the right, the banks are skirted with a tall growth of ash and ma ple, and beyond is an open prairie-for an in definite extent. This is followed by higher ground end heavier timber. Passing the islands, the scenery is of con tinuous forest growth, the only variation be ing in the species of trees and shades of green foliage. Tbe old ash trees are cov. ered with liuchen; so also tbe dead, atd dy ing hemlocks and pines. The scenery is si ways changing snd always enchanting. Now the river spreads out, and forms a lake an archipelago of green isUnJ,tbe chan nels around which ars calm and silvery, re fleeting on their bright waters the trees upon the shore, and tbey are undisturbed by waur foqtfiJitidjijji.csooa or miner's piddle. Ta Original Xorgaa Horse . Massachusetts has done many good t lungs among which ll giving to Vermont the cred it, and the world the benefit, of the eelebra' ted Morgan h'erse. Near tbe close of the last century, a singing master, by the name of Justin Morgan, lived in Chlcope etreetj West Springfield. The pi sS where thil man lived las been pointed out to tbe writer by one who knew bim, and remembered bis celebrated horse. Mr. Morgab had a few acres of land, and osually kffi one or two' wee. He cultivated his farm' during tie. somrter, and taught music In his own and neignboring towns, during the winters. IV tee sprinf of 1694, be raised a colt whicH'' bat given celebrity to his name. Mr. Mor gan bad a passion for good horses, and this colt, while he remained in West Springfield was more fully appreciated by his owosr ' than bis fellow townsmen. Ia those days ' 5 (" wss considered; a great price for a horse aad it ia believed that this horse could hava been bought for about that sura'. Fortune frowned' Jpofj' itfr. 'Morgan, aod, " seized wiib the spirit of adventure,' about the year 17C8, he migrated', with' his family andf' horse to the wilds of Randolph', V..' Here he lived a few y ears, and died' poor.'. Neith er he nor his family. realizeJ proff. from this horse. Such was the foundation of a breed which has given both wealth and character ' to New England. In this esse is forcibly Illustrated the influence of an ordlfiaV so' tion. Justin &ljTgun miglil oi might not have been conscious of the results, wheo sixty-five years agn be raided that famous" colt. The act was simple in itself,' but, tbe - , j consequences are momentous. AS -impel-1 US wss then riv,n ta m branch uf iadoair whose p'twer is not yet fully felt. Wher ever the horse is known, there shall tbe name of Justin Morgan be repeated. Tho M irgtn horse is destined to give as much celebrity to New England ss the barb of the desert to Arabia. As alarm and family horse, the M-iroao is unequalled. Docility hardihood, endurance, compactness and surefootednes are bis invariable properties.' Springfield R.'p. Hints for tha Reason. f. Watch the Beehives this month, ss the Bee-month' is very plentiful at preseot. Quinby.in the American Agriculturist ree-' ommends the use of a mixture of "sugar or molasses, snd a little vinegar and water,' making the 'contrast' agreeable the sweet and the soar, Put this in' shallow dishes, saucers, or tin baking dishes, and set them among tbe bees at evening. Next morning roothirof all hinds will be found in " the li quid,' srid inj then tie a'u'ained ciu" iii de stroyed, and the mixture tised the following evening.' . ..... ..... .... . rf In watering plants that are suffering from drought, do it thoroughly.' S'lak' the earth to the depth one or even two feet,' and to an extern in uiaineier proportionals la the plants, which' is at least as far as the branches extend In trees, and to double the extent in small specimens, such aa rose bushes. Previous to" watering", : .remove a, few inches of the surface Soil,' and replace afterwards. If tbe soil is' mulched remov ing the soil is not necessary''; , , . . , , ..... Iff. The present is a good time to .Brain , land. Help can be easily, got at reasotrabist rates, and there is always considerable time to spare during this month'.' When' you do-) drain, work according ta a' plan, and you Will not at any future time find it necessary to relay with la rger tile, or sink yotirdraiua deeper.' - ..... , ... ,, . IV- Keep your corn clean' by removing all weeds, sfi'tf h'e'e often, for by this means your crop will be increased. Where weeds' grow and tho soil is baked, the crop' Will be light. ... . V. Clean your seed-wheat thoroughly from chess snd tbe seeds of all weeds. Wash it in strong brine, and skim off alf the floating grains of every kind. Dust with' lime when wet, and it Will kill the spores of smut. Ofeso Farmer.' Seasonable BeeelptS Pickled'Tomatoes. To a peck of -green' tomatoes, add three medium sized green peppers. Chop them fine, and place them in a deep dish. , alternate layera of tomatoes' and salt; let them remain 13 hours, and then squeeze the mass dry,' and put down, in jars' layers of the tomatoes, and ground allspice and cloves. Boil the vinegar, and when oold pour it over the mass, in quantity suffiaient entire ly cover it.' . i , - ; To Pickle Ripe CocUMBKas. Pare, and remove the seeds; cut them in strips three or four inches in length. Put them in good; vinegar, and let them stand 24 hours. Then turn them'c'ut and dram well. Make a syr up of two pounds of sugar to onie quart' of vin egar, adding cinnamon and cloves. Let the syrup get hot, then put iu the cucumbers and let them boil until tender. Take them out. and toil the syVwp twenty1 minutes, sod pour it on them. They WiU be ready for' me ra three days.' 1oin atoe F'tos'i Ve have been reqoes' ted to re-publish the following receipe,' which appeared in Vol. I. credited to Mrs. Marsh. We have heard ol a number of in stances where it wss tried successfully. The fis aro delicate in Savor, losing near ly all the peculiar' to m aloe taste, and are in' every way excellent. We commend t'herti to the trial of any one who likes a dried sweetmeat f this kind, equaling al most the Smyrna fig. Pour boiling water over tha tomatoes in order to' remove the skins; then weigh them and place them in a stone jar, with as much sugar as you have tomatoes, and let them stand two days; then pour off the ryr up, and boil and skim it until no sea ji rt ses. Then pour it over the tomatoes, and let them stand two days, as before, then boil nrlsk!tn again. A'ter the third time, they are fit to dry, if the weather is good; if not let them stand in the syrup until drying weather. Then place on large earthen plates ordisht9, and put them in the sun -to dry, which will take about a week, after which pick them down in small wooden boxes, with fine white sugar between every layer. Tomatoes prepared in this manner will keep for years. A few apples cut up and boiled in the re mainder of this syrup makes a very nice sauce. Tomato PitesEB Vats. Take the round yel low variety as soon as ripe, scald aad peel; then to seven pounds of tomatoes add seven pounds of. white sugar, and let them stand -over night. Take the tomaf oea out of the sugar, and boil the syr up removing tha scum. Put in tha tomatoes, and boil : gently fifteen or twenty minutes; remove ' the fruit again and boil until the syrup thickens. Oa cooling put the fruit into jars, . and pour the syrup over it, and add a tew slices of lemon to each jar, and you will have something to please the tasta of ths ' moat fasiidious.--Grm intown Telegraph. - EruxTrut. MeTttoo rott DssTori-& Rats. A correspondent of the Genesee Farmer gives th following method for de stroy ing rats. Ha say: "One Jay a stranger Came to our house to buy barley, and hraring my father mention 1 tho difli.-tilty hf had in treeing the house of there disagreeable trnants, he said ha could put bins In the way of gflting rid of tbsm' with very little troublo. Uia directiaos ware'" simply these: Mix a quantity of arsenic with soy sort of grease, and plaster it pretty thick arouuJ their holva. To rats, he said, tf they did not eat tha p ison, would soil their coats in passing through their holes, and s like all furred aniraals.tbey are very cleanly and cannot endure any dirt upon their costs, ot remove the uffjn.ive matter would lick their fur and thus destroy themselves. Thie plan was immediately put in practice, sad in' a mouth's lime not a rat. was. to, bo s'yr about thah.oujsa or bartj,. r, : ! 1 i