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"th f> iiîf.ihr) ,c Of A W * fel ti T»T if T fj.SB TJ -I tit,, iij ii i ft JF-ycSt I o k i * M J l % Ulf -Ä. m i)4. •; r ) ÿi Î* ,#>if W m*» J ■n-u: Mns j afc -*^l J« -i. r*% ■^LA^ARE, SATURDAY MORNING, MARCH 21, 1874. ' ..' - "'f NO, 12. MIDDLETOWN, NEW CASTLE V0L - TK a J-J - - *M ; on the ea bell —- . . - , * T '? h / He wShbowed hend, sad nmd thoughtful, she 1th tips o .cold and white, <M to keep back the murtfinr, "Curfew #d not ring to-night. "Sextet»," Bessie's white lips faltered, pointing ing JV* 1 * prise» ol A- . . ... i.rk W .lÜîrSl^dlîd 4 * "fvealoverln that prison, doomed this very the algbt to die, 1 ibt ringing of llhs CurfeW, attd ne earthly j CnmmU wU?not cLme till sunset,"Wnd her race at grew strangely white, As sue spoke la husky whispers—"Curfew must not rihg to-night." ing of ef ..i r ■ 11 "f mmwm HOT BING TO ii HT." Knghwd'i situ w«$ Jetting o'er tbe bills so fer . Away: Filled the land with misty beauty at the close of onh add day; Aad the-last rays kits'd tha forehead of a man Strui At calmly »Joke the eexton,—every word pierced her young heart Like » thousand gleaming arrows—like a dead ly poisoned dai t ; . - . "Long, long years I'v* tstug the Curlew from thut gloomy etmdoWed tower; ®e*»y evenfug, jmit at sunset, It twilight hour; I have done mgr duly ever, tried to do it Just and How' fed, I will not miss it ; girl, the Cur fcw rings to-night 1" 'irdjhre ey» »mjipele h« «satures, . whits UsV thoughtful blow, / \ nd within her heart's deep centre, I "Bessie, has told the stern and , Bessie made a solemn tow ! 8l|e had listeued whjlc the judges read, without "jlMheriuging ofthé Curfew— Basil Underwood And Xe» breath dune fast Sod faster, Sod her eyes grew larde and bright— One low murmur, scarcely spoken—" mutt not ring lb-oightl" Curfew she with Habt step bounded forward, sprang ' within the old church door, Left the old man cbtntng slowly, paths he'd trod se oft heitere ; ; Not one moment paused tbe maiden, but with cheek and brow allow, Staggered np the gloomy tower, Where tbe bell swung to andlfro ; Then ehe climbed Ihe slimy ladder, dark, with out one ray of light, Upward Mill, her bale lip* sayieg "Curfew »hall not ring to-night." She has reached the topmost ladder, e'er her hangs tbe great dark bell, And the awful gloom beneath her, like the path way down to heil ; Sec, tbeponderout tongue is swinging, 'tie the hour ofCurfete now,— And the right has chilled her bosom,stopped ber breath andp.-tlsd her brow. Shall she let it ring? No, never ! ber eyes flash j.wilb wdjden fight, As she springs and grasps it firmly— »halt not ring to-night I" Carfew Ont she .swung, fer oat, the city seemed a tiny speck below ; Thera, 'twlxt hee bell swung to And the half-deaf not heard tht be'.t), And be thought the twilight.Curfew rung young /Mierjij knall ; tiden clinging firmly, cheek ned brow so pale and whits, Stilled her frightened heart's wild beating-" Cur few Ihall not ring to-night /" It was o'er—the bell ceased swaying, and the maids« st Firmly otr the damp old ladder, where for bnn dred years before, man foot had not been planted ; and whntshe this night had done, 8bonld be told long ages after—as the rays of and earth iuspsnded,as the and fro ; sexton ringing (yearn he bad ..-.Basil's Still the ma oece more Hu setting iun that one est) hh mellow beeutjr, aged sires f whits why the Curfew did wot ring night. dlls came Cromwell ; Bessie saw r brow, h sickening horror, glows with °>f him, and h Lately white wi . sudden beeuty now ; At his f»et she told her story, showed her hands en braised and torn, And her swart young face so haggard, with a •took so aad end worn, uched hit bei rt with snddsa pity,—lit his eyes With misty light ; "Gqjour lover ■tail hot ring to-night." To Ir»*»," cried Cromwell; "Curfew - OF MONTEREY. Tip: Mon(erey of twenty-five year« ago wasi n vastly different town from tbe Mon lartÿ of to-djy The silent streets, now the almost exclusive property of geese, cows, and noanadia bog*, the» echoed to (ho ringing hoofs of (he gsyly attired baUtendu bora» ; tbe uniform of the Englieh end American naval officer contrasted with th*,»tajd black mantilla and tha pretty tenorita ; tha guitar tinkled on mnoolit nigbte under the lattice of the dark-eyed belle ; and fbe romance of Spanish life rnlngUd with the bustle and activity of * prosperous'»ea-port -town. - Now-, an un tenanted bàrBar, a mass T»f half-ruined un occupied building*, end a drowsy air of »«}•« and indifference, constitute tbe modern Monterey. Still, (he roses end the tall hollyhocks cling lovingly to tbe adobe walls] and peep in through tbe low windows ; hat the blushing, olive-ehaékafl girl* that offered them to tho lounging wooer* at the garden getes twenty-five yesrs ago have grown into dowdy i wrinkled bj-family ears*. The ca matrons, margin is washed by the spring-tides, which know change, murmur yet as of old on fa* no thn ceeeent beach. With all t» dreary sonrwofenee, there ia n pfcarm »b|ut the old town, sitting like same and widow by tbe sea. mourning the eomtterce wbieb has deserted her, and yet, hr nil ber grief, Enoch Arden like, hoping ami waiting for à sail, and seeing The zrtot et Tb« holtow Tbe icarttti Slowly in| tbe bay sink tbe evening atm > that globed themselves in bsaven, lowing ocean, and again 1 Hoofsnnrise—bnt no anil. on the 24th or December, 1848. Aeroee the water! atreented its laet golden and parple raya, glistening on the wet sands, tenderly shimmering through the branch ea of the oak that stood in the old Spanish grate-yard, aad disappearing among the pines that aentiuelsd the hill-tops in the background. Maria Ignacia Gomes, as the angelut all bell rung out from the Mission ehuroh, he crossed herself devoutly, for a moment for getting tho rose-vine that climbed to the red-tiled roof of her low, long dwelling, Aad as she stood in the garden, with oressed hands end large brown eyes Uplift #d h#r b)aok gljawl dr00 iag J f r0 ' m her graceful ahoutdara.. aad. bar rad lips mov ing in prayer, a painter could desire no better model for a Madonna or an Evenge line, for the faee had all tho nweetnossof the one, with the resigned expression of patient waiting ef the other. A sour j ooking querulous looking face appeared at the de«p window. I I, ''Come here, Maria; 'tie supper-time.*' "Yes, Mad re mi a," and Maria, seaur ing thenrratio vino to a nail in the ad» be wall, entered the house. Ten years before the dato ef our story, when Maria's sweet womanhood was at its dawn, for many a mile rode iu the youth of the southern country to catch a'glimpse ef and exchange a word with the belle pf Menterey. A rose-bud from her Sagers was a rare gift, to bo carefully preserved and worn with pride, and a kind glance from her brown eyes sent, the reeipient back to his ranobo on the Salmis a happy man. Never a aloud rested on that calm, tarnest face, nor passion found a moment's harbor in her breast ' But at last her sorrow came, io this wise: In Juno, 1838, the atout ship De light furled her canvas and dropped her anebor in-the Bay of Monterey. She was owned hy the great Hudson's Bay Crmtpn ny, aad was bound norib to drain the company on ihe Fraser and Columbia riv ors ef their valuable fers which lay in their store-houses. Tito supercargo of the De light, James Gilmonr, was a son of the vice president of this opulent corporation, and showing a positive disinclination for each and all of the learned professions,and expressing a hearty contempt far the hum drum life of Europe, had been seat by bis father (8 the Fabine shored, to drink bis fill of the adventures for which he thirst ed. He was a youth of a singular force of olmraetcr, very undemonstrative, and pos sessing some decided opinions of the dile.t tante which had won for bint in his uni versity days the title of The Radical. The unanimous verdict-of tho jury of old wise heads to whom Gilmonr, senior, had ap pealed for an opinïoh oT bis son scharacter was that James was talented, but odd— an eccentric young man. in fact—who, unless travel tempered him down, would never bo an acquisition to ; the marchant office within whoso dusty precincts bis father had amassed a bulky fortune. So James found uimself aboard the Delight* anchored iu the Bay of Monterey, and, though nominally supercargo, really in that tangled mate of a young man to pur suit of a vocation. "Captain Brown," said Gilmonr, after that worthy seaman had squared the yards to bis satisfaction, got kii fancy waist clothes at the gangway, and mspectad the fitting-on of the good clothes, which a merchant vassal done, in port—" do yen know*any of the inhabitants of ibis odd looking village on the hill-side ?" " 'Village!' Mr. Gilmonr. I ptay yob don't call this a village. This is a city, sir—tba first city iu California—and if I mistake not," continued the captain, "yon der at the custom-house stands the alcalde, a hospital gentleman to whom our compa ny is indebted for many favors." A few moments afterward, both sptak cri were heartily greeted by that official, who, as the boat's keel grated on the sand, welcomed them to Monterey. Among the many young and pretty Spanish girls whom Gilmour met in Mon terey waa Maria Ignacia. A spirit of rivalry induoed him to throw himself into tho list with the Spanish gallants who strove 1er tho fair -. Maria's smiles. He was more then successful. The difference of bis maunsr^bU recital» of adventure iu Europe, and 'description*- of rife grand placet of history, «ere something »« novel ta Maria, so totally -different from the stereotyped ooniplimenta of her woers, that' she found a ebarm ia hit society which,~ib tier innocence, she oared not to conceal:' 'Bbt the end Çame ot last. The Delight was to proceed northward, and the supercargo prepared to take leave of all his Spanish friends. And so, Maria," said Gilmour, on tba evening preceding hit departure,- "our pleasant visit comes to an end. Well, I have improved my Spanish, and you, lit tle Madouna, if ever the fates take you to England, wilt recognize the ebbeye and the churches from my descriptions." » » Maria Ignacia did not reply ed to pick up an abalnne »bell. * of but stoop-' _, whioh. wet and sheeny, lay in the sand at tier feel. "And now. Maria, I have only one re quest to make, which our chattutieg ac quaintance warrants. It has three perte, however—a »oucenir from this dark hitij of yours; a letter, now anil then, when you weary of- your Monterey lover», and wish to talk to mo across the water ; and kies" Still no answer from the girl, who, with eyes cast down, strolled aloBg by his side. . "Then I shall take it for granted that my prayers prevail, Maria!" Her »oft eyea wer# raised t» bia, and ho was surprised to find bow pale the faee was, aud bow moist the rounded check ia 1 *1 He relied her lips to Ilia with a half-aigb. and then, aa if a new thought had aud dcnly struck him, said, abruptly, half to himself add half to her : "Good Ged 1 it can't be so, Maria ! Tell me—doyon love met" The ejonderful paa.ion in the full brown eves, eo tender and despairing,, told him all ; and when, tike a foolish young man, he took her in bis arms, and sworo alt the oaths that all lovers have so often sworn and so often broken; and when they strolled buck erer the sands. Maris'« tears were gone, and James Gilmonr clasped the band of his premised wife. . This was alfe the romance in Maria's life. The pe«t day Upo Delight s»U«d,, and for ten years neither ship nor super cargo wore h«rd of in Alontorey. Bnt shenavsr married. She had » itrsoge way of every evening walking o the hill-top where the aid fort stood, and looking wistfully out across the water ; than aor irowfully and resignedly returning to her home, nursing her invalid and sonr-tom pered mother, aod training the roees a-, bout the adobe walla. On this Christmas eve, Maria Ignaeia, kneeling before her old fashioned engrav ing of tbs Madonna, (bought of tho man ger in Bethlehem centuries ago, and won dered sorrowfully if James Gilmonr was enjoying in hie English borne the Cbrist mas-tree abd the mistletoe, tod all those games he bad told her of when they had walked on the «ande ten years ago. And theq^tr thoughts went back to that Jnne evening when he kissed her lips and call ed har pii» wifp., Boom ! boom ! boom ! through the atiil night air: - Maria optued her window and looked out. A party of Portuguese whalers went rapidly by, and she learned front their ex cited exclamations that a ship had gone ashore on tho Point Pinos roeks. "May God and tho -Virgin succor them !" she murmured piously, as she hurried to wrap her shawl around bfcr, and was soon in the street, Kvcryoue was «stir. Mon on horseback with ropes rode furiously along the beach and toward the Point; the whalers man ned their boats, set their vails, and sped before the blast through the moonlit wnt er. They were, all too late. Tho cruel, pointed rocks had torn the ill-fated vessel to fragments; and tho breakers dallied with spar and mast, now flinging them high up on the beach, and again drawing thorn back to hurl them onco more against tho brown cliffs. But not a single body did tbs waves throw up that night, .v, Christmas Day dawned, and when Maria j gnac i a Gomez looked from her w i ndow down to the crescent beach, she saw a crowd of men .tending about some thing They lifted it up and bora it through tho street, and to her door, fer herg „„ the house near „ t ,h e beaeb. "Is he dead ?" she asked, fearfully, "When we first saw him," said a whsl er> isj, e waB dinging to a spar, and before we g 0t bpat out bp w|i washed a B hore. M *3* v * - - l„id him oti a t>ed. Hi» dark beard was full of sand and weeds, and a „hits froth isiued from his li built man—handtemo, no t h 0 , 8 eyes, now staring so blindly, had ]igbt and U f e , Knd those WeR-eut lips mov#d and »miled. "Maria—Maria, what ails you?" Sho was standing by the bedside, her hands crossed over bor breast ; her as fixed and vioant os tba dead » a finely , when UM 5 doubt bofc es re her. "O, my beloved I" the moaned, laying her white face on bia bruised and stained breast; "at last, after ao many years." And then abe smoothed back tbe tangled heir, and wiped the foam from tbe livid lips, and straightened oat tbe limbs of him who had come to seek her after so long. For it waa ber great consolation that he had been true even to depth- They buried him behind tho old fort, and Maria took np tbe thread of her life a&ain. And now the rest a were doubly dear to her, for they wars for bia grave. Â Just English Criticism. An Englieh weakly gives tha following' edifying notice of a recent American pub lication : ;n Ji',,,. \" j; t "Of Misa Amea'a Outline» of Men, Wo men, and Thing», me eanuol apeak ia sim ilar terms The writer has seen compar atively little of people worth knowing) *be is by ne meant terse and lively in tell ing wbat she does know; and Mr. Fhjd woeld have compressed all she has to ray into e sing?« chapter. Her first paper M "Arlington," displays a temper of whioh we should'hop* that, even it-America, only a woman would be capable. Tbe descriplum ofthe former residence of Gens'' oral Lewvnow a military cemetery— ià made an oconsion for an insnlt to the wid ow of the noblest soldier and gentleman America ever produced, hardly paralleled even by Butler's brutal taunt te tie* sick wife of General Beauregard ; aud Genera! Lee himself la reviled }n term* which, if they represent any widespread feeling In the North, muet make réconciliation and reunion impossible to long as Southerner* retain the pride of manhobd or (he common feelings of humanity. We could wish to see the fitting ebaetieement of this out* rage en truth end decency administered by same respdfctablo organ of Amerijcgn -opinion." There is a good deal of sound wisdom in the suggestion of the fermer: " If yo want your boy to stay at'home, don't Im» toe herd oa ths grindstone while be turns the crank." ..... , . , . , how that objeot is to be attained with a «onsidorsble class and thus they work le ssunue rataadingly, and oftentimes to e ® n ? maffhaUtovifetetb* parmabout jiprova ««•» °f **"> productiven.a. of his soil, .wollest the same time he ia desirous of immediate returns from the present crop. Another baa w view the growing of the largest possible crop, leaving the perma nent improvement ofthe soil is a aecond »ry oonaiderattou ; and so on to the end oflhe chapter. The varieties of soil—wnndy loam, light tend, clayey loam, or slay, stony, gi v lo*™—ar* dlBbrebtly constituted, «®h '* bettor adapted to some special crop ,h *" ol .y e f"J® 1 ? we t™ "Hgnt soils, while others are > i^rimUnral. The Objeot in Applying Manure, TM4V» itneatfifeïfco liifïe 'disAbWd and loo frequently ignored by thé every day farmer. Too many work in a some what aimless manner in tlie application of fertiliiera. «If a definite object is bad io view, there seebis to bo an indefinite idea ravel and "medium" or "heavy." Now the #i»Ui vator of escb of these vnyipg soils wishes to attain a spooifio objeot in ita culture, »nd to that end be applies fertilisers and ;rows a crop which tie finds, from Sxper leuoe, that bis soil is adapted to. Scarce ly any one at all experienced would think that the same object would be attained by applying manure in the same state,' in the same manner, to eaoh and all of these varying soils. Local experience and a knowledge of local farming ' and circum stances always best determine the of application ..of manors, and in the dis cussion of tbe subjeot, all these matters should be considered ; but my questions remain : What is the 'object io applying manuré? Should we let any other object lake precedence of the presence of the present «rop? Ooe crop is certainly all we ere assured. If we apply manure to plowed and boed ground, it cannot be done without in some way permanently improving the same, for the aeration caus the manure and soil to act chemisally, producing tbe improvement.— Cor. Coun try Gentleman. manner eg How to Feed Corn Stalks Profitably» The rearing and feeding of animals receiving, as they should, from farmers .and herdsmen in all parts of tbe country, greater attention every year ; and es pecially is this true of dairymen, whose only hops of gtin rests in their succès» io obtaining paying yields frein their cow« Corn atalka enter largely iqfo the fall feed of daily COW*, and. bow to feed thorn is tba important question. Tha common practice is to feed them in the bundle, aa bat few fermera feel able or willing (ante s cutting-mgebino. The feeding in a bundle without any preparation, I fully satisfied, ia very wasteful, as not on ly are the butts left, but frequently stalks once every day jost before feeding, ia ef material advantage in many Ce'spects. The weak brine wm cause tbe cows to consume nearly all, even when fed whole; the flow of mflk increases, (he opndjlfen of tha cows improve, and they show great er contentment ; especially is this last mark true on cold, windy, and rainy days. I find it mueh better m * general rule, when it oan bo done, to feed salt on (be food, instead of feeding it alone. -In oase should mors than one day be permit ted to peso without brining tbe morning's feed. The brine should not be are am near ' . ro no ■tcong, only enough to furnieh sufficient rah to the cows. Of course tho pop,a should have access to pMrty' of water 1 ; this brine food will cause them to drink more, and thn* increase the flow of milk. Let my brothers try this »Dd they wijl hereafter place a great value upon corn stalks.— T-xvf Qtofle, Farm, <tnd^ Flqciidr Journal. How to Gore Split Hoof. I had .a hoy»} that fiad both hoofs split, from top to bottom. He could not walk without fcia /eqt spreading I kept Dim for tnreo months on straw ono foot deen iq tbeetabto, but fell did no good. At last I went to the blacksmith shop and had heavy shoes toatf* Whioh »pread wide at the hcele To these heavy shoes there was, welded, at the eut»ide'oir bafcli 6é<n, à piéoe made of shoe-nail iron Those pieoes were utado to fit well around tbe font, a bnut an inch belojf the hair., I let the, pieces wnmq tugat jer within htlfi an itmb. *bra*fpWbs ofW inch* In the turned-up part s hrrlt made to receive o bolt'an inch long, with a square head and screw and nut on the other eqd. Un nailing the ahoee «o and putting the bolt in and screwing on the nut, tbe toot was brought together, this way, I »II enabled, to work him every day if I wished. Previous to this my bora#'lied not palked 'g utile jp [hreo months. Next day after I had. tbo shoes put on l drovo liiut in » carriage twenty miles, sad I bavo used him right along._ Cor. Cincinnati Gazette. ■ H is proposed to cultivate figs fer ffit teuiog hogs in «tu'Üicrn California. WM in send cLliars i», « .pretty high fer a'(ingib rooster That is «hat Mr Davis, wf Portland, has jlistf given io Ira Butchelder for« black Spanish cock—considered, the hut gam« bird in the country. , J - - 4 - . T; Tv Tgo thpu price to pay The Ksspoqsibility of Women. Under the above caption > Appleton'» Journal, of a race« date, contains qn ar gested in a reseat editorial, ibd vhieh are so appropriate to the present nooditioo ef society, that wo »hall make copions tracta from it. It is otrtainly far better to prevent b»d habita by .proper "borne rale," than to engage in tba ineffectual effort of breaking up tho sale ef liquor whilst the detpspd for it is so great. Let mothers and wives furnish happy, cheerful homes for their sous and husbands, and the ' ''infernal trafic" will basai io a large degree for want of customers. "It i» offered a* ao exause fur tho recent very extraordinary proceedings against liquor sellers, that, .woman era peculiarly sufferers from intemperance among men. Thq drinking-sliop, it is alleged, seduces husband» and sons from their homes, tempts them to tha spending of.wages needed in their households, uftd is tha fruitful cause of vast domestic misery, which falls heavily upon the women of the family. No doubt, this is true. But we accuse women of being specially responsible fer this condition of things. We chargo that men, especially yodng men, arc seduced to the drinking-shop because it possesses su perior attractions to their homes. We in diet wop®», both as mothers and as wives, for such neglect of their duties that their husbands and Ions have been driven a broad, in the pursuit of. those pleasures and felicities that women arc under moral obligatio» to provide in the household. When we hear a woman complain that her sons have drifted away from the do minion of her influence ; that, while edu cated at her aide, they have coma to prefer the companionship of her—then we know that this mother has been unequal to the duty imposed up on her. Where there are no distinctly inherited depravities, there has been some fatal neglect in tho home training that has permitted this deplorable result to ootne about. When we bear of tbe husband who ceaselessly seeks for his felicities abroad, who prefers the publie bouse, the club, or boon companions, to the society of bis family, then we are assured that in sonic way the home, which ought to be first in bis affections, has failed to assert that do minion over his heart whioh, if rightly conducted, it would have been sure to do. The average American interior is op pressively dreary. Men cat and sleep in their houses because it is more convenient to sleep and eat there than elsewhere ; but beyond this, the ordinary "roof-tree" is utterly without attractions. It is without attractions, not so much from neglcot as from a perverse détermination that its whole economy shall be of the most pinch ed, stinted, narrow, and cheerless charac ter, such as only dull imagination, false economy, cold sympathies, and selfish tastes, can make it. ex of'the vicious to that - Go into our towns anti villages and set! the so-called bennes. VVn'tefr and discover the theory under which so' many of (hern are oonduoted. A window ia never open ed ; a dflor never stands ajar. During the day tbe glorious gun is never permit ted to enter their darkened chambers ; at night ft feeble light through shows boW the family dismally barrow in a corner. Enter, aud you will discover that tbe house is hospitable to the strang er, and gives no indication that it is meant te be enjoyed by its inmates. Tbe par lors lire chill with an atmosphere that rarely know* a human presence. Tbe passages echo tbe sound of your footfall as if startled by the nnnsual intrusion. The women are gathered jn the kitchen, where the stove-heated sir and the odors of the cuitine are sickening and unwholesome; and the men are anywhere out of the house —anywhere to escape the appalling dead ness that settles upon the place. ' In these homes, the women would rath er their sous should idle the day at the post-office, the village-store, or tho ale . bouse, than let tbs sunbeams enter their, parlor*, end fade tho carpets. They would rather their sobs and husbands should at night enjoy the good oboer of the public house, than light an oitra candle, build a glowing fire» o t permit. roeS ü . Mtfritv within (be awful shadows of their shut up apartments. In these homes the whole art is to discover the ert of, not to lire To keep all things-neat, and orderly, and circumspect ; to present no flaw for the edification of Mrs. Grundy ; to suppress all impulses, all tastes, all pleasures, all heartiueSs, all life—theso things soem to be the great purpose of ihe ascetic women who control them. It is no wonder (bat men escape from ( > them, .and prefer even the coarse amusements of the public house —for (e liee is tho necessity of tbe mascu line nature, tad snyicru» of life is better tb»A apathy-sod cbllt. - , - Ä tn who have sons. to rear and e demoralizing influences of Bid associates, ought to understand (no qiituro of young manhood. It is excessively restless. It is disturbed by vague ambi tions, bjt'tbrrst for ectron, by longing for excitement, by Irrepressible desires' to ucf life) ia thsfiifold ways.' If you, mother», rear your ions so that their hontoa are Associated with the repression of these natural instinct», you will bo sure to throw tliem into the society that in any measure can supply the need of their hearts. They win Oöt go to public-houses, at first, for lote of liquor—very few person^ ever really 1 Ttko the taste of liquor—they will go fer tbe animated and hilarious compsn a window to jonsbip they find (here, which, they dis cover, does' yb mach to n press the dis turbing restlessueiY hr,their breast», to it, then, that their .homes compete with public places in attractiveness. Optn your blinds by day, and light bright fires at nigbt. Illuminate your rooms. Hang pictures upon the tfafls. Fût Éboks aha newspapers npon your tables. Have mnsio and entertaining games. Banish those demons of dullness and apathy fftht htfve eo loDg ruled lb youn household, and bring in mirth and good cheer. Invent occupations for your sons. Stimulate their ambitions in worthy' direCtibAs. While yob make home their delight, filt them with higher purpose* than mere pleasure. Whether they shall pass bsppy boyhoods, and cuter npon manhood with refined tastes and noble ambitions, depends upon you. Do not blame miserable bar-keep er» jf your sons, miscarry. Believe it pos sible that, with exertion and right means, a mother may have more control over the destiny of heir boys than any other influ ence whatsoever. So we say to these crusading women : Return to your homes ! Scorn the thought that yoq cannot make your households more delightful than bar-rooms. Banish your narrow ascetiolsm. Make your re ligion a source of elicerfullnosi, and not of gloom. Convert yonr bouses into temples of innocent pleasure. Be bright and stimulating companions to your hus bands and sons. Understand at once that badly-kept homes have driven more men into irregularities than anything else— and upon you mainly rests tho responsi bility for the evils thus arising. See en ed We are pot asserting that intemperance would end with tbe chaDge in the policy of wotpen that wo have proposed. Intem perauoe often, comes ef causes (eo subtle for human analysis But it is asserted that intempérance is promoted by dram-shops ; and it is this influence, this cause of in a temperance, that women are entirely .com petent to remove, by seeing that fhe hcarth-stonc shall be more soanetive than the ale-beuse." The Yalue of Time. One fine morning when Benj. Franklin was busy preparing his new paper for Ihe press, a lounger stepped into tbe store and spent an hour or more looking ovsf (he books, &o. Finally taking one in his hand he asked the price. "One dollar." "One dollar !" said he. Can't yon take less That* that ?" "No, indeed ; (hat Is the.price." Another hour was nearly passed when the lounger said : "Is Mr. Franklin at boipc?" "Yes, he is In the printing office." "I Want to see him." The boy immediately informed Mr. Franklin tbit there was a gentleman in the store waiting to tee him. Franklin was toon behind the Counter, when the lonnger, book in betid address ed him thus : "Franklin, what is the lowest you can take for this book ?" "One dollar and • quart«. "One dollar and It quarter i Why, your young man asked only oue dollar " "True," said Franklin, "and Î could bave better afforded to take a dollar than to have been taken out of tho office.". The lounger seemed surprised, and wishing to eqd the parloy of bis owp mak ing, said : "Conte, Mr. Franklin, what i* tbe low est you can take for it?" "One dollar apd a half." "A dollar and s half! Why, you of fered it yourself fer * dollar and a quar ter." "Yes." »aid Franklin, "and I had bet ter have taken that than a dollar and a half now." The lounger paid down tbe' pries' aad went about his business—if be had any— and Franklin returned to the printing of fice. ; Look Ükvore Ÿoo Sion.—Y ears ago Buffalo delighted in a wag named Fred Emmons, and these suggestions have brought to my remembrance an exploit of his : Friends were discussing tbe thought lessness with which intelligent persons at tach their names to petitions, and Fred »undertook to prove that he eotflct tho signatures of the beet Men to tbe most absard request. At that Ume there was a large sun-dial in front of the eburob on Mato St. It had been there long enough to be weaiber-beaton. So Fred drew up his potjtien to the Common Council of tlto eity asking fer »»bed Over tbe suo-dial, to preserve jt from the effects of the rain and sun. He circulated and presented it to tbe Board of Aldermen with tbe names of more than two thousand persons (somro of tl;p best iO' tbt pity) signed to it. T 1 I oure An effected young lady, reading the Bi blo. exclaimed: "Mother here ikcgraiu tnatical error in tbe Bible." Mother low ering her spectacles and approaching the render in a very scrutinizing attitude vaya?' "Kill it! kill it!' it ia the very thing that has been eating tbe leaves and book marks 1"... ... ; TT Caution. "See here, mieter," said an trish ltd of seven summers, who was driven up a tree by a dog. "if you don't lake (bet dog away, I'll aat np nil your gpplps.',' "Biddy, darlent, wad yèes like n shanty, a cow, a pig. wid me. aad a few ehildcr* in the bargain?'' Och, Paddy, don't ba taring ! It's thn prabt wt bt wanting. LETTER To tie Bbyfi and Girls of the Middle* töwn Aoademy, Delawtffr BY BBY. J08BPB WILSON. No. XI.—Penrose or Goo in C lia avion. My Young Friend »:—You mity lie some-' times ihclifibd to to ask the quc*tiot)-'"Por what pbrposc were all tho world* created (htft we see and- know to exist in- the uni-' VerZe f This is a Vary natural queiffrtf, and* f know of no better answer that can be giv en to it, than tha Bible gives. In Rev , IV. I I, it i» said—"For thtrir haut »Coat ed oH thing*, abd fof are and were cfeated. understand this a* nVenTtihg that God ated all things for bis own gratiflat iintr merely, without any reference te the well being of IT* creatures. Instead of ' thy pleasure," it would be better to read "ac cording to thy pleasure." signifying that all things were wade rrccofdiOg to the trill of God, which ir, io reality, the exprès siun of the original Greek. God having willed or determined td create, proeoedcd.to execute his will, and - accordingly produced nil thiugs by the word of his power, fer " be spake and it wtrs dope ; be eomintrhdcd ami it Stood fast." But we have reason to believe (W 0!>S had a purpose ia creation, and that lint purpose was proper, wiie and good. Why than did God create the material - uni wree' and the behtgs that inhabit it? The first and principal rsuteu i*. 'Ii.t God might thereby be known and glori \Ve know that there is a God, bt cause poos but a Being of almighty power thy pleasure tbe/ " ' We »re not io cre fied could create such glorious worlds us do know to exist; as Paul says, [Kotu. list Chapter } "For the invisible thing* .iY Him, from the creation of the world; ere eleurly seen, being understood 1 from ffr«' things that are made, evrn his rteinof potcer and God-head and as I lie J'ealtn - ist David says, [Pu. XIX. 1 ] "Thu heavens declare tha glory of God. it inf tbe Armament showeth his handy wot l f day into day urttercth apeech »right it»t.< night showeth knowledge." Another reason for creation is. tlm» i tellrgent beings (is Angels and might be bsppy in the knowledge, lu»e end servies of their Creator. God ia thu Father of all bis infellttfeitl créature», and as * ftltfier hs tttkes delight in the happi ness of tiig children. As fur as the earth' and man are concerned, what ample pro vision has God mads fof otjr enjoyment ! Besides a an ample sufficiency for the sustenance of life and health,. tiler*, «0 .. theu*and* tit things that seem to be made only for the gratification ef our sense*— Not only breed to est ; bet thousand* t*f delicisus fruits to pie»»« the taste, thou»- - indu of beautiful a*d fragrant AoWCfs tor delight the eye and regale the sen*» ef smell, music sounds to ravish the ear, aim a robe of levelmess of the great and ben eficent Father of all. To bshold and enjoy all this beatify *nd goodness, God crested angels end men. The spiels »re celled "the mornitifilttr«," because they were created in the Morning •f God's great Work-day, and when they saw God make (be earth end the things therein, tbe "mo'fnhpg stiff* «hg togetlu r end all tho sons of God sfroùtcd for. joy '' —Job xxriii, 7. Sbotfld not man (in im itation of tbe angels) acknowledge and praise his Creator and daily benefactor ? Another lettor, my young friends, may close this series, if God be pleased t» spar» my life. WuiCU W 0 Üt/IT 1(tV tt ATli'ltR t)o?— John Adams, father of John Quincy Ad ams, used to say, "When I was at boy, 1 had to study the Latin grammar ; but it was duB and I bated it. My father we* anxious to send me to collego, and there fore I studied the grammar till I could bear it nef longer ; and going to my fath er, told him I did not ilka to study, and asked him fer other employment. It was opposing his wishes, and he was quick iu bis answer." "Well John," »»id he, "if Latin gram mar does not suit you. you may try ditch ing ; perhaps that will. My meadow yonder needs s ditch, rtd JoV may by your grammar and dig." This seemed a delightful change, sml to tho meadow I wogt f but soon found ditching harder than I/ntto; »nd tbe first forenoon was Ihe longest I ever ex peri,, cnccd. That day t *te the bread of labor, and glad was I when night cautc on. That night I made comparison between Latin grammar'and thtchieg.. but saw) not » word about it. I dug tho next forenoon, and waeitsd t* return to Latin st dinner time ; but it was humiliating, and I eould trot do it. At night, toil conquered pride,. ■ end I told tny father—one ef the lisrdosl lessons of tuy life—that if hs chose, l would go bask to Latin grammar, lie was glad ef it; end if 1 have eir.ee gained any distiaotioi», k has been owing to t»y two days' labor in that ditch-. "Dear old Aunt 8»r»h," said a soboef S irl, "don't see very well, sod last Sun ny she was busstog around getting ready for church, looking for umbrella, spec», over-shoes, »nd last, but uort least, her prayer book. The latter she thought she had secured by grabbing something off her bureau st the last moment, but, when l to cbtfrch it it put she get to sicovbox, and tba old lady, in trying find ber place In this unoommoa book prayer, tonohed the spring, and it want in fine etvle to tha (uns of 'O. Jim it proved to be my mu* old lady, in trying to Of Off fine stylo to tha (une of '0, Jimmy coate Along, Jim Along, Joaty.' "