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rfiftï '• -W-S»«>iilri4TiIi«%|Ri| ,. *'. il i •«•»«*<&» * ▼ :Aäpi| $ tf : /'Xe'.$ .-.y. ' A '4 O/ IIÏJ 2IN>JK4«i = MIDDLETOWN, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 12, 1874. VOL. VIL NO. 37. ®itne SrMcb. PHILADELPHIA , WILMINGTON AND BALTIMORE RAILROADS. Delaware Division Time Takle. SUMMER ARRANGEMENT. O N and after Monday, May 25th, 1874, (Sundays ex cepted,) Train« will leave as follow«: NORTHWARD. Passenger. Mixed A. M. r. M. P. M. Arrive. Philadelphia-i 1 15 7 S0|-Baltimore-111 46 12 55'-Wilmington- 1016 4 40 0 66 I-Del. Junction- 10 07 4 32 120 -Newcastle- 9 55 4 20 -State Road- 9 45 4 10 -Bear- -Rodney-j 9 33 3 69 1 54 -Kirkwood- 9 29 -Mt. Pleasant- 9 19 3 43 8 35 Middletown- 9 09 .3 33 8 20 2 42 -Townsend- 8 61 3 14 1 8 01 -Blackbird- 8 43 3 05 7 42 Green Spring- 8 34 2 65 7 31 Clayton-1 8 29 2 49 7 21 -Brcnford- 8 21 2 39 7 06 Moorton-1 8 14 2 311 6 C4 3 52|-Dover- 1 8 03 2 201 6 34 4 04 ! -Wyoming- 7 66 2 09 6 18 -Woodside-- -Canterbury- 7 43 1 53 6 52 7 36 1 46 5 42 7 25 1 30 5 20 7 08 1 15 4 55 6 68 1 03 4 40 6 48 12 62 4 20 6 80 12 34 3 43 1215 3 12 >12 00 2 45 SOUTHWARD. PHHsenger. Mixed. 8 30i 5 16 11 301 7 30 2 45 10 10 6 35 6 10 11 30 8 16 3 50 10 20; 6 43 10 32; 6 66 10 35 7 00 9 41 10 46 7 0S 10 50 ; 711 10 57 7 20 1107; 7 31 11 25> 7 51 11341 8 01 3 54 8 53 1189; 8 07 11 48 11 65 12 01 8 15 3 14 8 21 8 27 12 09 8 43 12 24 8 46 12 32 8 54 12 40 12 46 9 07 12 50 9 13 1 04 9 29 7 49 2 00 6 02 9 02 Felton 4 56 ——.Harrington ington Greenwood Bridgevtlle 6 07 -Seaford 6 30 -Laurel - —■ Del mar 4 30 1 15 9 38 Q7 1 26 9 49 I 37 10 00 1 68 10 18 5 22 5 40 2 12 2 25 0 50 The mixed train will be delay« incident to freight husine*«. and will stop only at station« where time is giver May 9—ly. •» U 1 H. F. KENNEY, Superintendent WILMINGTON AND READING RAILROAD. Summer Arrangement. u )N AND AFTKR TUESDAY, MAY 26th, 1874, Traim •ill run over main line and Reading Branch follows : Going Northward. No. 6. No. 3. No. 1. P. M. P. M, A. M. 5 15 1 45 6 30 Wilmington, 6 03 2 38 7 24 Chftddsford, 7 05 3 38 8 23 Coatesville, 7 8 01 4 26 9 11 Springfield. 8 34 4 56 9 41 Birdsboro', 9 07 5 30 10 15 Reading, CONNECTIONS. At Wilmington, with trains oi Wilmington k Baltimore, and Delaw roads ; at Chuddsford, with trains on phia k Baltimore Central Railroad : at Coates ville, with trains on Pennsylvania Railroad, and at Rending, with trains on Philadelphia k Read ing, Lebanon Valley, East Pennsylvania, and Reading k Columbia R. R., and Berks County E. COLL1NGS, General Superintendent. Going Soutln rd. 8TATION8. No. 2. No. 4. No. 6. \ M. I\ M. P. M. 9 10 3 12 7 32 8 25 2 19 0 49 1 05 5 57 G 28 12 00 5 07 5 54 11 34 4 32 5 20 10 00 4 00 Philadelphia, arc Rail Philtldel Railroad. Jne 20-tf. REDUCTION OF FREIGHT FROM PORT PENN TÛ PHILADELPHIA. t ^ ur ' n £ *h e present Fruit season, «ÉHÉifilfieiP^the rates of freight from Port Penn the steamers "Ariel" to Philadelphia will he, and "Lamokin," for all basket stuff, including Peaches, Apples, Pears and Tomatoes, 3 cents per basket. Barrels of truck, 15 cents each. Grain in Bags, 3 cents per bushel. Calves, 25 cents. Hay, (pressed) by "Lamokin," $2.00 per ton, and all other Freights proportionally reduced. The 'Ariel' leaves Port Penn daily, at 3, p. ui. The 'Lamokin' " and Friday, about 5, p. m. Both boats land At Arch Street Wharf. From Philadelphia, the 'Ariel' leaves daily, at ' Monday, Wedncoduy 8. a. j I The ' Lamokin ' leaves Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, at 11, a. m. FARE, »ither way, by Lamokin, " " Ariel, 25 Cents. 50 E. B. TAGGART, Agent. nug8-5t CHANGE OE TIME. 1874* DAILY TRIPS TO PHILADELPHIA. r and after September 1st, ■«KSttÊSVr 1874, the steamer "MAJOR . REYBULD," Capt. P. Reybold, will Leave j Salem, N. J., daily (exceptSunday) at 7 00 A. M. j . 7C u ? ' r l T'î w, ' nrt > Phila., at 2 30 P. &!., touching at Delaware City, New 1 Castle, Pennsgrove and Chester each wav. .. e q f, .. _ , Ode!», De""sh«rptown?wrod"own n 3 , A7o d - waystown, N. J., connect with the steamer. Freights at low rates. . „ , , captain titblraC ^ JiäSäfcSassafras River. q^HE steamer "TRUMPETER" ill, on And aftsr Monday, June 8th, leave Georgetown at 7 a. in.. Buck Neck at 10 a. m:, and all the intermediate landings lier than heretofore; arriving in Baltimore at 1 p. m. Returning, will leave Baltimore At her usual hour—loj a. m. We sincerely trust that the friendly relations hitherto existing between the steamer Trumpe ter, her patrons, and the public generally, may never grow less ; for the perpetuation of which we will ever be found striving our very best, mar 1— ly WM. CUNDIFF, Capt. the route one hour ear MIDDLETOWN IRON FOUNDRY AND MACHINE SHOP. P LOWS and Plow Castings, Machine Castings of all kinds on hand or made to order. Particular attention given to Repairing Machi nery. Cash for old Iron. WM. L. BUCKE k SON, Founders and Machinists. Jan 4-tf Select Joctrg. IF WE KNEW. If we knew the woe aud heartache Waitiug for us down the road, If our lips could taste the wormwood, If our backs could feel the load, Would we waste to-day in wishing For a tiime that ne'er can be? Would we wait with such impatience For our ships to come from sea? If we knew the baby's fingers, Pressed against the window-pane, Would be stiff and col i to-morrow, Never trouble us again, Would the bright eyes of our darling from our brow ? Would the prints of rosy fingers Vex us then as now? Ah, those little, ice-cold fingees, How they point our memories back To the hasty words and actions Strown along our backward track ! How these little hands remind us, As in snowy grace they lie, Not to scatter thorns—but roses— For our reaping by and by. Let us gather up the sunbeams LyiNg along Let us keep the wheat and roses— Casting out the thorns and chuff. find the sweetest comfort In the blessings of to-day ; With patient lmhds removing All the brirrs from our way. Catch the fro path ; L et j&flfrt £toii. THE MAID OF DAMASCUS. In the reign of the Greek Emperor He ruclius, when the beautiful city of Damas cus was at the height of its splendor aud magnificence, dwelt therein a young noble, named Demetrius, whose decayed fortunes did not correspond with the general pros perity of the times. He was a youth of ardent disposition, and very handsome in person ; pride kept him from bettering his estate by the profession of merchandise, yet more keenly did he feel the obscurity to which adverse fate had reduced him, that in his lot was involved the fortune of one dearer thau himself It so happened that, in tiiat quarter of the city which faces the row of palm trees, within the gate Kcisun, dwelt a wealthy old merchant, who hud u beauti ful daughter. Demetrius had, by chance, seen her some time before, and he struck with her loveliness, that after pin ing some months in secret, he ventured on u disclosure, and, to his delighted surprise, found that Isabello had long silently nursed a deep and ulmost hopeless passion for him also ; so, being now aware that their love was mutual, they were as happy as the bird that, all day long, sings in the sunshine from the summits of fhe cypress trees. True is the adage of the poet, that "the course of true love never did run smooth;" aud in the father of the maiden, they found that a stumbling-block lay iu the way of their happiness, for he was of an avaricious disposition, and they knew that he valued gold more thau nobility of blood. as Isabelle, in her private conversations, endeavored to sound her father on this point ; aud although the suspicious of uf fectiou are often nioro apparent than real, in this they were not mistaken ; for with out consulting his child—and as if her soul had been in his hand—he promised marriage to a rich old miser, ay, twice as rich, aud uearly as old, as him self. a a was Their fears grew more and more, her i Isabelle knew uot what to do ; for, on being informed by her father of the fate he had destined for her, her heart forsook her, and her spirit was bowed to the dust. Nowhere could she rest, like the Tracian bird that knoweth uot to fold its wings in slumber—a cloud bad fallen for her over the face of nature—and instead of retiring to her couch, she wandered about weeping, under the midnight stars, ou the terrace, on the housetop, wailing over her hapless fate, and calling on death to come and take her from her sorrows, At morning she went forth alone into the *i r d n ' ut neither could the golden git w ■ of tin the r her, i trees, nor the perfume h» delicate fragrance of uua and jasmine, delight led for the hour of noon, y sent to Demetrius, invit et her by tho fountain of the pawn ing 1 pillars . * aiat time r t# t\ » • i j r .• » 1 ü< ? r Demetrius had, for some time, ob served a settled sorrow in the conduct and e^Dtcnance of his beautiful Isabelle: be felt that some melancholy revelation was *° be uiade t0 bi "? ' and > al1 eagerness, he came at the appointed hour. He passed ^ ° f the tulips streaked like the ruddy eventug clouds—of the flower betrothed to the Dightingale—of the geranium blazing in scarlet beauty—till, on approaching the the place of promise, he caught a glance of the maid he loved—and, Io ! she sat there iu the suulight, absorbed in thought, a book was on her knee, and at her feet lay the harp, whose chords hud been for his eur so often modulated to harmony. He laid his hand gently on her shoul der, us be seated himself beside her on the steps, and seeing her sorrowful, he comfarted her, and bade her bo of good cheer, saying, that Heaven would soon smile propitiously on their fortunes, and that their present trials would but endear them- the more to each other in the days of after years. At length, with tears and sobs, tbê told him of what she had learn od ; and, while they wept on each other'a bosoms, they vowed over the Bible, wbioh Isabelle held in her hand, to be faithful to eaoh other to their dyiog day. Meantime the miser was making pre paration* far the marriage ceremony, and the father of Iaabelle had portioned out hia daughter's dowry ; when the loveis, finding themselves driven to extremity, took the resolution of escaping together from tho eity. Now it so happened, in aecordance with the proverb, which saith that evils never come single, and. at this very time, the city of Damascus was closely invested by a might army, commanded by the Caliph Abubeker Alwakidi, the immediate suc cessor of Mahomet ; und in leaving the walls the lovers were in imminent hazard of falling into their hands; yet, having no other resource left, they resolved to put their perilous adventure to tho risk. 'Twas the Mussulman hour of prayer, Maggrib ; the sun had just disappeared, and the purple haze of twilight rested on the hills, darking all the cedar forests, when the porter of tho gate. Kcisun, hav ing been bribed with a bribe, its folding leaves slowly opened, and forth issued a horseman closely wrapped up in a mantle; and behind him. at a little space, followed another similarly clad. Alas; for the un lucky fugitives, it so chanced that Derar, the captain of the night guard, was at that moment making his rounds, and ob serving what was going on, he detached a party to throw themselves betwocn the strangers and the town The foremost rider, however, discovered their intention, and he called back to his follower to re turn. Isabelle—for it was she—instantly regained the gate which hud not yet closed, but Demetrius fell into the hands of the enemy. As wont in those bloody wars, the poor prisoner was immediately carried by an escort intq the presence of the caliph, who put the alternative in his power, of either on the instant, renouncing his religion, or submitting to the uxe of the headsman. De metrius told his tale with a noble simpli city ; and his youth, his open countenance and stately bearing, so far gained on the heart of Abubeker, that, on his refusal to embrace Mahometanism, he begged of him seriously to consider of his situation, und ordered a delay of the sentence, which ho must otherwise pronounce, until the mor row. Heart-broken and miserable, Demetrius was loaded with chains, und carried to a gloomy place of coufiueuieut. solitude of the night-hours he cursed the hour of his birth-—bewailed his miserable situation—and feeling that all his schemes of happiness were thwarted, almost rejoic ed that he had only a few hours to live. The heavy hours lagged on toward day break, and quite exhausted by the intense agony of his feeliugs, he sunk down upon the ground in a profound sleep, from which a band, with crescented turbans and crook ed sword blades, awoke him. Still per sisting to reject the prophet's faith, he was led forth to die ; but in passing through the camp, the Souhachis of the caliph stopped the band, as he had been commanded, and Demetrius was ushered into the tent, where Abubeker, not yet arisen, lay stretched on his sofa. For a while the captive remained reso lute, preferring death to the disgrace of turning a renegade ; but the wily caliph, who had takou a deep and sudden interest in tha fortunes of the youth, knew well the spring by the touch of which his heurt was most likely to be affected. He point ed out to Demetrius prospects of prefer ment and grandeur, while he assured him that, in a few days, Damascus must to a certain surrender, in which case his mis tress must fall into the power of the fierce soldiery, and be left to a fate full of dis honor, and worse than death itself, hut if he assumed tho turbau, he pledged his royal word, that especial care should be taken that no harm should alight on her ha loved. Demetrius paused, and Abubeker saw that the heart of his captive was touched. He drew pictures of affluence, tic love that dazzled the imagination of his hearer ; and while the prisoner thought of his Isabelle, instead of rejecting the impious proposal, as at first he had done, with disdain and aud horror, his soul bent like iron in the breath of the furnace flame, and he wavered and became irres 8olute. The keen eye of the caliph saw the working of his spirit within him, and allowed hint yet another day to form When the second day was expired, Demetrius eraved a third ; and on the fourth morning, miserable man, he abjured the faith of his fathers, and became a Mussulman. Abubeker loved the youth, assigning a post of dignity, and all the mighty host honored him whom the caliph delighted to honor. He was clad in rich attire, and magnificently attended ; and, to all eyes, Demetrius seemed a person worth of envy; yet, in the calm of thought, his conscience upbraided him, and he was far less happy than he seemed to be. Ere yet the glow of novelty had entire ly censed to bewilder the understanding of the renegade, preparations were made for the assault ; and, after a fierce but in effectual resistance, under their gallant leaders Thomas and Herbis, the Damas cenes were obliged to submit to their im perious conqueror, on condition of being allowed, within three days, to leave the city unmolested. When the gates were opened, Demetrius, with a heart overflowing with love and de light, was among the first to enter. He inquired of every one he met of the fate of Isabelle; but all turned from him with disgust At length he found her out, hut what was his grief and surprise—in a nunnery ' Firm to the troth she had so solemnly plighted, she had rejected the proposition of her mercenary parent ; and, In the d domes his resolution. having no idea but that her lover bad shared the fate of all Christian captives, she had shut hersolf up from the world, and vowed to live the life of a vestal. The surprise, the anguish, the horror of Isabello, when she beheld Demetrius in his Moslem habliuients, cannot be describ ed Her first impulse, on finding him yet alive, was to have fallen into bis arms ; but, instuntly collecting herself, she shrunk back from him with loathing, as a mean and paltry dastard. "No, no," she cried, "you are no longer the man I loved ; our vows of fidelity wore pledged over the Bible; that book you have renounced as a fablo ; and he who has proved himselffalso to Hoaven, can never be true to me ! " Demetrius was conscience struck ; too late be felt his crime, and forsaw its con sequences. The very object for whom he had dared to make the tremendous sacri fice, had deserted him und his own bouI told him with how much justice; so, with out uttering a syllable, he turned away, heart-broken, from the holy and beautiful being whose uffeotions he had forfeited forever. When the patriots left Damascus, Isa belle accompanied them. Retiring to Au tioch she lived with the sisterhood for many years ; and as her time was passed between nets of charity and devotion, her bier was watered with many a tear, and the hands of the grateful duly strewed her gravo with flowers To Demetrius was destined a briefer career All consci ous of his miserable degradation, loathing himself and life, and mankind, he rushed back from the city into the Mahometan oamp; and enteriug with a hurried step, he tore the turban from his brew, and cried aloud,— "Oh, Abubeker! behold a God-for saken wretch Think not it was the fuar of death that led me to abjure my religion —the religion of my fathers—the only true faith. No; it was the idol of love that stood between my heart and heaven, darkening the latter with its shadow ; and had I remained as true to God, as I did to my love. I had not ueeded this." So saying, and ere the haud of Abube ker could arrest him. he drew a poniard from his embroidered vest, and the heart euegade spouted on the royal robes of the successor of Mahomet blood oftho 1 If I Had Leisure." * If I had leisure I would repair that weak place iu my feuce," said a farmer, lie had none, however, and while drink ing cider with a neighbor three cows broke in and injured a prime piece of corn. He had leisure then to repair the fence, but it did not bring hack his corn " If I had leisure," said a wbeel-wright last winter, " I would ulter my stove pipe, for I know it is not safe." But he dit 1 not find time and when his shop got on tire and burnt down lie found leisure to build another. " If I had leisure," said a meebauie, "I should have my work done in season."— Tho man thinks his time has all bceu cupied, hnt he was not at work till after sunrise; he quit work at five o'clook, smoked a cigar after dinner, and spent two hours on the street, talking with an idler. *' If I bad leisure," said a merchant, "I would pay more attention to my accouuts and try and collect my hills more prompt ly." The chance is, my friend, if you had leisure you would probably pay less attention to the matter than you do The tiling lackiug with hundreds of farm ers who till the soil is not more leisure, hut more resolution—the spirit to do, to do now. If the furmer who sees his feuce in a poor condition would only act at once, how much might bo saved? It would prevent breachy cattlo creatiug quairels among his neighbors that in •»any cases terminate in law-suits, which take nearly all they are bulb worth to pay the lawyers. The fact is farmers and mechanics have more leisure than they arc aware of for study and improvement of their minds — They have the long evenings of winter in which they can post themselves upon all tho improvements of the day, if they will take ably conducted journals and read them with eare. The farmer who fails to study Ins business and then gets shaved, has nobody but himself to blame.— Cor. X. E. Farmer. oc nonsense now. Perils of Old Aue. —An old mao is like an old wagon ; with light loading and careful usage it will last lor years ; but one heavy load or suddeu strain will break it aud ruin it forever So many people reach the age of fifty or sixty, or seveuty measureably free from most of the infirmi ties of age, and with reasonable prospects and opportunities for continued usefulness in the world for a considerable time. Let such persons be thankful, but let them also be careful. An old constitution is like an old bone—broken with ease, and mended with difficulty. A young tree bends to the gale, an old one snaps and falls before the blast. A single hard lift, an hour of heating work, an evening of exposure to rain or damp, a severe chill, and excess of food, the usual indulgence of an appetite or passion, a sudden fit of aDger, an improper dose of medicine—any of these or other similar things, may out off a valuable life in an hour, and leave the fair hopes of usefulness and enjoyment but a shapeless wreck. un Don't go to law unless you have noth ing to lose, lawyers' houses are built on fools' heads, Joke on the Undertakers. A night or two since, while on bis beat through B an inebriated individual reposing on a bench in front of Wilson & Brown's un dertaking establishment Tha officer shook the fellow until he awoke him from his drunken slumber, then explained to him that he would be obliged to escort him to the station house unless he hunted other quarters. The man told the officer that he was a stranger in town, that he had but four bits, and the night being warm he had conclfded it would be good economy to sleep out doors and save his four bits to buy his breakfast in the morning. Not being a hard-hearted man, the officer told the follow that he might finish his snooze, provided ho would get up and move out of sight before tho people were astir on tho streets. Passing that way again in the course of au hour or two, Mr. S found that his snoozer had rolled off the bench and was lying in the empty oase of a coffin which was setting at the edge of the sidewalk. Rousing his man again,the offioer told him he "must get out of there." " Out of what?" grumbled the fellow. " Out of that coffin," said S.—though it was but one of those large coffin-shaped cases in which coffins are shipped. " Who's in a coffin," said the fellow, rubbing his eyes. " Why you are," said S. " If I am I don't know it." " Well, I know it, and if you don't get out of that it will bo the end of you.— Don't you know that if the undertakers get up in the morning and find you snooz ing in here they'll clap a lid on the coffin, nail you up and bury you, and then send in a bill and make the county pay your funeral expenses?" Crawling out of his narrow quarters, the fellow stood and gazed upon the coffin case for a time, then said : " What sort of undertakers bavo you got up hero iu this country, that go nnd set coffins 'longside the sidewalks to ketch men ?" and without waiting for on nnswer he shuffled away to find safer quarters. The Feminine Toilet. street, Officer S-found The other day, says lady writer, 1 heard of an incident which shows that the host men do not understand all the mysteries of the feminine toilet. eveu A gen tleman, who devotes much of his time to the society of ladies, aud who believes himself a connoiseur iu all that pertains to them, was much auuoyed by observing that a fair friend of his, favorably known fur her style of elegant dressing, would iusist, when the weather would allow it, upon wearing an old looking shawl, devoid of any claim on beauty or good taste. Tho gallant endured this for a long while. He drove in the park with his friend, and often looked at the odious shawl in a way that he thought would convince her of its uufitness for so elegant a woman as herself. She did uot take the hint, however, but continued to display it on every possible occassiou. He lost all patience at last, and said to her, one day, " May I be permitted to inquire why you will wear that miserable shawl so often ? It spoils your dress. You look so exqui sitely otherwise, that l cannot comprehend why you will deform yourself with such a faded rag as that. It has nothing iu tho world to recommeud it; and I believe if you were to throw it off into the street nobody would pick it up." The bright eyes opened with surprise, and a strange expression fell across the pretty face. " You are jesting, are you uot?" the lady asked. " You do uot really dislike my shawl, do you ?" " I uever was more serious in my life I thoroughly detest this thing that you sail a shawl." „ , T .„ . , , , . Well, then, 1 11 inform you that this Q cawM's-hair shawl: and, though I think it in very bad taste to speak of pri ces, it cost seven hundred guineas, and is one of the finest ever brought to this coun try." The young geutleman was astounded; but his taste was correct. | ! I A Queer Story. - ! queer story 1 A California paper tells a about a couple of pious ladies who traveling on a train there recently. They i had with them a basket filled with nice I little Bibles, aud with these they wore go ing about doing good and making money. While looking for customers they across a genteel looking fellow, who of fered to give the ladies a little game, just to while away time and keep them quiet. He throw the cards, and then asked them to pick out the Jack, which he had pre viously shown thorn. They did so, once, twice, three times Then he threw them again, and one of the innocents cried:— "There it is ; throw 'em quick, arc mistaken, were ran you can't fool me, if you did . 1 . " "No, madame, you " he replied, and, drawing out of his pocket a ten and two twenty dollar pieces, he said : " I'll bet you $50 you don't know which is Jack " " Oh, we never bet," said one of them. And then they stood and eyed thoso gold pieces and thought how little the possessor, apparently, appreciated their worth. Watching for the favorable meut, the reckless young man said.— Well, I don't care, seeing it's you, I'll bet you this $50 against that basket of books—hallo, hang mo, they're Bibles ; but everything goes as it lays—you find the Jack." The bet was taken, but the ladiea lost their wager, having failed to find tfie Jaek. Tho winner marohed mo can't through the train and distributed tho Bi bles among the passeDgers. What be came of the women is not known to the passengers Too Often True. Some men take too much money oat of their business to expend io household penses and lavish display, and speedily bring themselves to the verge of bank ruptcy. One eld gentleman, whe bad commenced life as a poor boy, had, by mastering the difficult steps to final cess, gained considerable wealth as a mer Whcn he arrived at old age he retired to private life, to live in ease and comfort on his income, leaving a prosper ous business in the hands of his son. In three yeurs the young man was bank rupt. Ho had failed in business and was compelled to take a position as clerk in a stranger's store. His father was asked why it was that, in a business in which he had succeeded so well bis son had failed. He gave this characteristic answer :— " When I first commenced business my wife and I lived on porridge As my busi ness increased we had better food ; and when I could afford it, we had chicken. But, you see, Johnny commenced with tho chicken !" ex 8UC- chant. How He Proved It. It is the custom in Mexico for tho cler gy to require a foreigner, wishing to mar ry a native, to bring proof that he is not already a married man. An American, marry a senorita of very good family, was required to furnish the proof of his being a bachelor. Not finding any of his countrymen who knew him suffici ently well to testify to this fact, he deter mined to supply the deficiency with the oath of a native. Meeting a Mexican in the street, whom he had never seen before, our country man proposed to him that ho should swear to his being unmarried for the considera tion of five dollars. The senor, after a moment's study, said to the Yankee— " Get down on your hands and knees and creep about " Not exactly understanding what he was at, our friend obeyed, much to the detri ment of his unmcutionables. The other party then told him that he was all right; that he would swear that the American had not been married since he knew him, and that was since the time he crawled. about to Knowledge of One's Business. It is one the greatest mistakes of our farmers, that as a rule, they suffer the buyer to know more about the quality and value of farm products than is known by those whose labor makes them. The buy er lias tests which the farmer does not I notice that when the wool buyer comes around he takes out his glass and sees at a glance the strueture of the article in hand, and knows more about it than he who has toiled a year iu its production. The same theory is true of seeds. The magnifier is applied to pork to see if it is infested with trichina I think it is true, as a rule, that buyers of farm products know more about them than the producers. Tho man who know the most always get the best of the bargain. It is certain that knowledge is power in making a trade. It can safely be put down as a ruto that a man, who for natural or artificial reasons, can sec a hundred times as much as his neighbor, will know tho markets.— Selected. . _ _ ,, , A College Professor SoLU r _ A a P" pears that one of the students at Davidson j College, who was teo lazy to do anytlnug > "g'"' *. as ,n tb ® bab,t . of c'e"">"g on] b ' a ; lamp chimney by running his linger down it as far as he could,aud twisting it around, j After he had cleaned it out in this partial j manuer, one day not long ago, a fellow student took it up and carried it to the i residence of one of the profesors, with the 1 inquiry: "Why is it that this chimney is , smoked up to this point aud no farther ?" j ; have. The learned gentleman entered iuto an elaborate scientific explanation of why it ■ inquired the professor. "Because the fellow's finger wasn't long enough to reach any further," replied tho student. j A cultivated I mind may be said to have infiuite stores of iuuocent gratification. Everything 1 may be made to interesting to it, by be- I coming a subject of thought or inquiry, j Books, regarded merely as a gratification, ( are worth more thau all the luxuries on , earth. A taste for literature secures cheer ful occupation for the unemployed and j lgnguid hours of life : and how many j persons, in these hours, for waut of in j nocent resources, are now impelled to j coarse pleasure ? IIow many young men | can be found in this towu, who, uuac- I customed to find a companion in a book, and strangers to intellectual activity, are i almost driven, in the long, dull evening of winter, to haunts of intemperance and bad society. ___ was, arguing with great lucidnosa, and citing various authorities to shew the cor rectness of his reasoning. When he had tinished, the student said to him : "No, sir -y ou ar0 wr0B e " "Why is it then ?" . Intellectual Culture. "What more vividly recall* the "Sweet childish days, that were as long "As twenty days are now," than to have dug out of your leg a five eent piece that you swallowed when a boy ?— Brooklyn Argus. •m i^wultoral. i. Teo Man; Fenooa. It is too liable to be the cake that farm ers keep up certain field fences because they ware originally built where now standing, or were in that the farm was purchased. when t often proves very profitable to study the matter over and lay out new plans for fields, lanes, etc. We have seen farms so badly planned that by removing at least one-third of fenco material, and re-arranging the fipldn, the premises would be greatly improved in appearance, convenience and profit. The study should be to have just as few fences as the best planning will admit of, and have those fences as good as they cm well be made. We do not mean by this to have plough and meadow land all in one field and the pasture all in another, but to so arrange tho fenoe as not to have half a dozen different meadows, as many plough fields, eto., all on one farm of a hundred acres. It is often the oase that by moving a barn to a new position, one- half of the lane fence may be removed, and the building be in a more convenient situation than before. We only throw out these suggestions to put farmers to thinking, and each one can look over his own premises and see what is needed in his own special situation.— Ohio Farmer. the Comfort# and Luxuries of the Farm. —There is a class of farmers who are liv ing only to grasp more acres. Their farms can never be large enough, nor can their workmen or themsolres do quite enough work. They cannot be satisfied with the income of a farm, nor could they be with that of any other business. But thoso wlui understand that the highest object of labor is not simply to make money, but to provide the largest amount of the means of improvemont and innocent enjoyment that the world affords, can make the pur suit of agriculture furnish more luxuries that really contribute Io our well-being, than any other employment requiring an equal amouut of capital. Their farms are not so large as to make slaves of them selves and their sons, and their wives and daughters are not worn out with incessant drudgery. Their door-yards blossom with flowers, their tables are supplied with many varieties of well grown delicious fruit, their houses are made cheeful by the influence of books aud music, and a taste for the pure and innocent enjoyments of life is developed in their children. Here and there a farmer's home exemplifies all the contentment aDd happiness possible to a race doomed to labor and disappoint ment .—Practical Farmer. Sugo estions About Wool. —The pros pect for wool growers for obtaining goad prices in wool, in our opinion, was never better. The amount of sheep in the country over last year is nothing, only onu State showing any decided inorease, while otherB remain as before or fell off. There was only enough wool to be had in the spriug to run the mills until the comiDg of the present clip, consequently there is no stagnation in that direction. True, woollen good are lower now than they have been for some time, but they have all along been too high and that is noth ing against our argument. The unsettled financial condition of the country has un settled values aud wool is one of the first articles to respond to the monetary bar ometer, hut it is settled that there will be no expansion this season, so all values will settle into their legitimate channel, hence wool should start off at the figures ruling before the clip came in. Fifty to fifty-five ceuts is the price it should com mand during tb() wbola 8ea50Di aad ; f f aruiers are w ide awake it will command that price at once. A word to the wise j g âU ff lc i en t .— Buckeye Farmer. ^h8t can be pleasanter than the life of a Missouri farmer ? At daylight he gets U P antl examines the holes around his com hills for cut worm ; then ho smashes cod dling-uioth larvæ with a hoc-haudle until breakfast. The forenoon is do voted to watering the potato bugs with a solution of Paris green, and after dinner all hands turn out to pour boiling water on the chintz bugs iu the corn aud wheat fields. In the evening a favorite occupation is smudging peach trees to discourage the curculio, and after a brief season of family devotion at the shriue of the night flying coleoptera, all tho folks retire and sleep soundly till Aurora reddeus the east and the grasshoppers tinkle against the panes ani ^ summon them to the labors of another day. -• Choked Cattle —J. B. Jones, in the Country Gentleman says:—Having so often seen the following cure for choked cattle tried, and it never failed, we would like to sec it reprinted quarterly :—Moisten fine cut chewiug tobacco with some sticky fluid like molasses or mucilage, making a ball as large as a hen's egg ; open the animal's mouth carefully pulling out the toungc, and insert the ball as far back possible: as the tounge goes baok, it will be swallow making the auimal deathly sick, relaxing the muscles, aud, by vomit ing, causing it to throw up the obstruction, This never fails if tried while strength is left to walk. 88 Never strike a colt when you are break ing him. Bush him sidewayi or any way. Let him go just where ha will or how be will. Let him fall down if ha will, but don't strike him.