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Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, November 15, 1866, Image 1

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026941/1866-11-15/ed-1/seq-1/

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YOL. 2.
NO. 6,
Is published iceeldy, by
At $2.50 per annum, in advance.'
Advertisements will be inserted at the rati
»f 51 per square often lines or less Tor the first in
jertion. and 50 cents for each insertion thereafter.
All notices or communication of a personal or pri
vate character, or which are intended or calcula
ted to promote private interests, will be changed
as advertisements.
i square one rear.....$12
.1 “ ..••.. 20
S14 column “ “ 30
“ “ “ 50
\ “ “ “ ..... 00
-Agents will add their commissions to these rates
^ST“Yo paper will be discontinued, except at
the option of the editors, untill all arreaiages
■'rfSve been settled.
■^3^.11. II. Gii.t,, Esqu..is authorized to receive
subscriptions for the hkkai.u. and to” transact other
business connected with the office.
Hk.nvy F-i wkl, at Lut ay, is our nu
Thorzed agent for the HehapI). in Fage Co., Va.
Tn« Shenandoah Hei aip having a large and
Vapidly increasing circulation, it is confidently rec
Hv.nmendod as a medium for advertising surpassed
by no oth<»r. It numbers among its natrons those
who are able to buv liberally and par promptly,
and who rely, principally, upon the IIkuald as a
Hitsinex* 1) ireclort/.
Business Cards.
MOSKri WALTON also practises it; Warren and
Page Counties.
P. S. Land Warrants wanted,.it furnished by
lOtii of August, 1^66. at a tail price.
Any a. i-angements made with A. G. Walker in
relation to yueh warrants will be satisiacto. y.
PRACTICES in the courts of Shenandoah and j
Warren counties.
January 12, 1866-tf
Having resumed the pi notice of Medicine, re- •
apectiully otters his professional services to the pub- j
lie. Office at his residence, opposite the Female
Seminary. Oct. 4, j
DR. j. H. JONES,
Offers his professional set vices to the citizens
Mount Jackson and vicinity. [Oct. 11—3mp.
DR. G. 31. UORU3I having resumed the
practice of his profession, respectfully otters
his services to the public. Teeth inserted on the
•'Vulcanised Rubber Rase.”
Olhce at his residence on Main Street,
Oct. 4, 1865.-v
, Has resumed business, nt his '■'ST'TSy *»T
old stand, and i« now ready to furn- ^
i:h NEW WORK to order, and is j
prepared to do REPAIRING OF
ALL KINDS at the shortest notice and on reas- I
• onahle terms. He respectfully returns his thanks j
-to his old customers, and stiil solicits their pat
October 11, 1865.
I respectfully inform the citizens generally, that 1
-have leased the tannery belonging to Mr. William
Ott, in the town of Woodstock, and am now pre
pared to do any kind and any amount of tanning.
I will tun on the shares for others, or -will trade
‘light leather fordiides.
For tanning. I allow, for calf skins. 2 months;
•for upper,-3 months; for heavy hides, 4 months;
sheep skins, 6 weeks.
Those who wish-'tending done, will do well to
bring on their hides-at once-. As an experienced
•tanner, 1 refer to Mr. ’Comer, Bdinburg, Mr.
Maphis, Mt. Olive, and Mr. Funk. Strasburg, with
nil of whom I hVve -worked.
Oct. 11, I860. ROBERT NEWMAN.
YI'IHIS well known Hotel has been remodeled,
1 repainted and papered in handsome style,
and is now open for the reception of visitors and
boarders ; its healthy location, and nearness to
Burner’s White Sulphur and Orkney Springs,
"will make it a pleasant and healthy summer re
■tt cat in the Valley. During the late war it was
one of the most popular Hotels in Virginia, on ac
count of being always plentiful provided. Chaig
■es moderate. The subscriber will spare no pains to
make it a pleasant home to all who may favor him
■with their patronage. Terms moderate.
F. SCHEFFER, Proprietor.
June 7, I860—Gm.
John A. Saum & Bro.,
Plain and Japanned Tin Ware,
17*DIN BUUG, VA., have on hand a stock o
_j goo dp in their line, which they will till ior
ca»ii or country produce as low a» they can be
had elsewhere in the Valley of Virginia.
ItOOiing & Spouting promptly executed
•and satisfaction gua. an teed. Oidcrs from
country merchants tilled at lowest wholesale pri
ces. [Edinburg, June 21, lMiG-y
I am now prepared to execute every description
of Plastering, the building of Chimney Flues, 4c.
I ask mv friends to give me a call.
April 5, I860. E. C. HAAS.
JioBERT NEWMAN would inform the
public, that he is prepared to disinter soldiers
and others, whose friends desire to have them re
moved. His charges will be reasonable. Address
him at Woodstock, Va. [Jan 12,1866.
People visiting Town on
Court Day should not fail to call and see COLTON
Bit OS., for they are selling their Fall aim Winte
Goods five per cent, less than eost. [Feb 9, ’66.
In? YOU \V
ero to
Oct 20. 1865.
. ochogl books,
^ STATIONERY, for sate by
Cash Paid for Bones.
ANTED, Tw enty Tons of Bones, deliver
at our Factory, Pugh’s Run : near the
Tmropik*.- Am* tf." H. H. GILL k CO.
Just after the death of the flowers,
And before they are buried in snow,
There comes a festival seasoii,
When Nature is all aglow—
Aglow with a mystical splendor
That rivals the brightness of Sprilig
Aglow with a beauty more tender
Than aught which fair Summer could bring.
1 Some spirit akin to the rainbow
Then borrows its, magical dyes,
j And mantles the lar-sprcading landscape
In hues that bewilder the eyes.
The Sun from }iis cloud-pillowed chamber,
| Smiles soft on a vision so gay,
And dreams that his favorite children,
The Flowers, have not yet passed away.
There’s a luminous mist on the mountains,
A light, azure haze in the air,
As if angels, while heavenward soaring,
Had left their bright robes floating there ;
The breeze is so sou, so caressing,
It seems a mute token or love,
And floats to the heart like a blessing
From some ’happy spirit above.
These days, so serene and so charming,
Awaken a dreamy d. light—
A tremulous, teariu. enjoyment,
Like soft strains o!' music at night ;
We know they are lading and fleeting,
That quickly, too quickly, they'll end,
And we watch them with yearning affection,
As at parting we watch a dear f; iend-.
Oh. beantiiul indian Summer)
Ihou favorite child'ot tile yea; —
Thou da; ling, whom -N ature enriches
With gluts and adornments so dear!
How tain would wo woo thee to linger
On mountain and meadow awhile,
For our hearts, like the sweet haunts of Nature,
Uejoice and grow young in thy smile.
Not alone to the sad fields of Autumn
Dost thou a. loot brightness restore,
But thou hr ingest to world weary spirit
Nweet dreams of its childhood once L-ore.
Thy loveliness tills us w ith memories
Of ail that was brightest and best—
Thy peace and serenity offer
A foretaste of heavenly 'rest.
We make the following extracts from
ilie address delivered by (Jen. Wise at the
dedication of the “Stonewall Cemetery,”
at Winchester, on the 25th ult:
FKLLow-Crnziixs:—I meet a motirning
people on the holy ground of graves, the
dust of which is more sacred than that of
kindred. You come to do homage to the
virtues and commemorate the glorious
deeds of the heroes who died defending
the stricken laud they lived in and they
loved; and I come to condole with and
comfort the living by invoking the spirits
■of the mighty Confederate dead ! I come
to search among their ashes for the exam
ples and lessons to teach us how ta survive
their deaths—how to Jive after them—how
to nourish their seeds of indestructible
truths resown in this sacred soil, now al
ready germinating again in these graves,
and which shall yet again overshadow and
save the land these heroes died for, as sure
as that the moral power of the Universe
will forever overcome all evil and .malig
nant forces.
Alas ! \vhoare the dead ? The buried?
or rather the bruised and broken survivors,
who daily die living deaths amid the ruins
and ashes of a wronged and a wrecked
country, scathed by a wrathful war of con
quest, ending in disasters worse than death)
in shackles, and iu shame worse than J
shackles!—All! the blessed buried
‘•Are past the fear
Or' future tempests or a wreck on shore.
Those who escaped are still exposed to both.” ]
Toe buried have overcome death and I
are now immortal, whilst we survive to
suffer and need the succor their lives and
deaths can give, to those who would not
live in shame or die in vain. Their names
and deeds need no monuments or mauso- i
leums of earth. Nor stone nor board may '
mark the clay where they “sleep so well.” j
Though “every turf beneath our feet be” !
their scpulores, and the dust of cemeteries
may mingle man’s with man’s remains in j
undistinguishable comradeship; yet they !
are individually known at headquarters I
above and their names are separately in
scribed ou the everlasting rolls, and Hea- i
veil’s adjutants will forever keep them in
the book of martyrdom ! Martyrdom for
imperishable principles of faith, of truth, j
of honor, of religion, of law, of liberty, j
and of right! No hostile hand can strike
them now, and all the malignity of good
men’s enemies cannot alter or pervert the
liicts or moral forces of their past lives and
present being. Eternity has sealed their
testimony to the truth and time’s testimo
ny will not permit human history to be
perjured to their shame We need not
fear for them. With them all is well.-—
They are now shielded by an impenetra
ble buckler, the bosses of which is the in
tegrity as well as courage with which they
battled for their faith and fatherland.—
They now wear an armor more than bullet
proof; and the missiles and messengers
of death were their better angels and pro
ved that they were preferred of Heaven
when they fell! Ye mourning survivors
I bring yon the full assurance that the bu
ried are not dead I I have communed with
them, and they yet live never to die!—
We “the dead” come not to bury the dead
—we have but to touch their turfs—they
have no tombs—and be ourselves “alive
again.” We come not to raise funeral
pyres, but to be ourselves so reanimated
and reinvigorated by the living spirits of
the departed Faithful and True, as to be
able to prove tiurselves worthy of their sa
crifice made for us, arid of still asserting
if not maintaining the Faith for which they
fought so good a fight, and which they
consecrated by their precious blood ! Aye,
their foes shall builu their shrines, their
friends afe too despoiled to more than mark
the places where tliey lie. All around
them their invaders are gathering the
bleaching bones and ashes of those they
repulsed and slew, to raise mounds and
monuments to deeds made memorable, and
to memories made worthy of mention by
their heroism; and every stone they pile
on stone—the higher the more expressive
—shall tell the story of the war to every
passer-by, of the battles by whom lost and
won, and of who were the real Heroes !—
This play of monuments is one in which
Hamlets in Heroism cannot be left out.
The General said that, we needed their
example now7 more than ever We need
ed more than a Moses now to bear us up
under defeat. There was more of trial
now than when we were in the camp and
iu the trench He continued :
I invoke then the mighty Confederate
Dead ! and lo : instantly the valiant clay
of the consecrated Valley of Virginia be
comes instinct with motion in every atom,
and a grave in Lexington, trembling
tjuieldv, gives up a life-breathing spirit in
a great example! It stands palpably be
fore and above us, the inotnl personation
of the wlrnte Confederate cause—the now
Soncritied Stonewall Jackson, a very
Micluel of Deliverance. The whole Host
of Heroes, disembodied, point to him;
and awed, I reverently ask :—“What in
this hour would he have us do? ” His ex
ample speaks to us 1
] pronounce not his eulogy. His fame
and deeds are above my praise. Ili's en*
emies praise him. His shade austerely
reprehends all personal panegyric. I speak
not of the military chieftain., nor of his
glorious battles or victories. I speak not
of the man, how trained, or what his
traits; courtly or curt, eccentric or like
common men ; awkward or graceful; gen
ial, or silent and serene; all hi* character
istics whatever they were, are now sacred.
I speak not of his- achievements, front, i
flank or rear, however lighted up in lus
tre; but 1 speak of the intrinsic, sterling !
stramina of his moral greatness, of his
Christian heroism. Thousands in the Con
federate armies were like him “without
fear and without reproach,” but the eternal
adamant of his character and nature which
won for him the -Stonewall of his name,
was his Supreme Faith; Faith in Cod;
Faith iu immutable Moral Laws and Prin
ciples, and in the right to prevail in the
end against all opposing powers. His
faith knew of no expediency opposed to
faith and justice ; of no Policy opposed
to Truth and Lights: of no Peace oppo
set! to Honour. Governed by an unwaver
ing cbristian sense of duty, he did his part
according to the very right and simplicity,
without reserve, trusted in God so to shape
consequences as to make the very right
prevail. He cared not, inquired not
whether it would prevail, in his time, or
for his personal advantage ; but be loved
“Virtue for virtue’s sake,” and placed its !
power to prevail on the Omnipotence and
Omniscience of the Father and Finisher
of his Faith ! lie knew that the very test
of the virtue of Faith is not only to be
constant, firm and abiding whilst the
struggle is going on between right and
wrong ; but to be more and more constant, i
firm and abiding, when the enemies of j
moral law and right seem to have gained
their most decisive and crushing triumphs. '
He never mistook the benign will of Divine |
Pity upon the mortal weakness of Denial |
when the Master was betrayed. He knew
that then it was, when the Almighty
Sufferer seemed to be crushed and forsa
ken, that Faith was required to be most
abiding This Faith made him what he
was, instant and irresistible in action; |
direct and immoveable iti purpose; with a j
moral instinct above intellect, above all
dangers, or disaster, and death itself ; un
Communing all the time with the infinite
source of Moral Law and Light, he looked
at the path of Duty only as far as finite j
vision could see, and took it at once, j
marching “double quick” directly, straight j
on, not daring to question when or where
to halt or to turn aside, or what enemy or
obstacle was in the way, or whut its force,
or what would become of him—on he
went under orders he dared not disobey,
only knowing that his way was always to
the right, however long or short, and that
it was perfectly known to his Divine Com
mander whose Omnipotence could make
his final struggle sure of victory if his
Faith and Fortitude stood firm This
made him Stonewall firm, and this ex
ample vises up before us. With this im
mortal Faith l reverently commune. I
question it here amidst the Confederate
Can Faith be submitted or subjected to |
the “arbitrament” of Brute Force f Did j
Stonewall Jackson ever submit his Faith !
to what is called by the Fjpcdicncy and !
Folicy of these times, the “arbitrament of j
arms V”
The stern,-rebuking answer is, that he
was no Machiavel !—-He ofttimes in the
field subjected his material and physical
forces to the shock of tHe “abitrameut of
arms”! But his Faith, his moral trust
and conviction he never submitted to any
arbitrament but that of his conscience and
| his God 1
The Speaker continued to edlbgize the
character of Jackson in an eloquent man
ner, and drew many illustrations of what
we should do at present* from Jackson’s
actions whilst living.
The Orator discouraged desertion of
Tirgihih iii this time of her great need,
1 and asked her yohths whither would they
wander? Where on earth could they find
a people so free. Without capital, and “a
; Strange land,” their condition would be
worse than at home,
We must renounce luxurious idletiess.
ahd not be ashamed to work at home, and
among our friends Stonewall Jack SOU
was not ashamed to work, and by the
earnest labour of his own head and hands
earned immortality, and hallowed his
native laud with reflected glory7. Out of
the naked nothing Of poverty and nature’s
materials he wrought out by patient toil,
little by little, the levers of bis life, and
then Archimedes-like he founded them on
a fulcrum which moved a world. His aui
| bit ion vaulted not; his genius bad no van
ity—bis power was the moral power of a
will and purpose, and looking onward and
upward for God s guidance He Worked
here in Virginia and for Virginia, and his
work now speaks for her and to her, words
more precious than pearls. That is pay!
That pays!
And oh ! what land so lovely and be
loved to work in and for as this holy
mother of uj all. I feel as fresh as ever,
and would make you feel:
“With what delight we breathe our native air,
Ahd'.tiead the genial .-oil that bore us (itst!
Jt is said the was Id is every Wise man’s country,
Yet after having received its various nations,
I tun weak enough stilt to prefer my own
To alt I’ve seen beside.”
I speak not of any mohgrel Virginia—
of no illegitimate offspring of political ra
pine. 1 speak of that honored “Old
Dominion” embracing full 04,000 square
miles, from the,Ocean to the Ohio—from
the line of Pennsylvania and Maryland to
the lines of North Carolina and Tennes
see! I speak of lire land which gave birth
to the first of men, and gaVe to mankind a
race of heroes and sages, Orators and
statesmen, scarcely less than the first
which formed the nation and gave its
rnagna charter and Constitution and Laws,
which led its armies and comicijs for three
fourths of a century, which asserted its
sovereign rights, and maintained the
rights of all a longer period of time ; and
which finally maintained its honor if no
more m contending for the rights it had
asserted and failed to establish after a dis
astrous and glorious struggle ! I speak of
Virginia—Lowland, Piedmont, Valley
and Traus-Alleghnny! I speak of Vir
ginia entire as she was, and still is, and
will be, undivided and still unspent. True,
her bosom has been' torn, and rent, and
soiled, and stamped upon by the iron heel
of the raiders and invaders* but she is old
Virginia still, sacred to Liberty, sacred to
Law's, full of life, and full of ground for
hope, and the future grander than even her
glorious past. Her Chesapeake Hay is yet
unquenched by the fires of war; her catar
acts still profoundly fall to move heaven
and etirth for her resuscitation; her Pied
mont plains are yet verdant with grasses
for the docks and herds of a thousand hills;
her Ridge is yet blue in Heaven’s azure to
nurse a race of mountaineers indomitable
and yet strong ; her Valley is yet the very
marrow of her spinal column and the staff
of her life ; her Alleghanies are yet back
bones of strength ; her Western Hills are
yet beet-stalls of fatness and plenty ; her
mighty rivers still roll on to old ocean,
and to aqueducts no less than the mighty
Mississippi; and the change that has come
over her is but the harbinger of the higher
aud holier hope of Empire and Progress!
Her mines are full of coal and iron richer
than gold and diamonds. She is still Vir
ginia, stripped, oppressed, overwhelmed,
overcome for a moment but uuconqaered
ami unconquerable. She is not without
means, resources and power, and her pride
and pre-eminence over all States, and
State of States, shall keep her head higher,
and finally far above her invaders and en
emies. God bless her 1—God guard her !
No land upon earth opens such a field for
industry skill and enterprise, profit and
profusion, as she now spreads out with a
wide welcome to the youth of master minds
like that of Stonewall Jackson. Her v*uy
poverty is now u capital for noble sons to
count upon for a wealth beyond the Baron
ies that once made lords of her gentlemen.
Her weaknesses are over and past; her de- j
velopment is now just about to begin. Her :
woe is wooing her to her brightest days ;
her privatum is about to be her wealth, j
and Providence to guard and guide her in j
a higher and holier destiny than that of j
the “Old Dominion.” If her sons will j
indeed serve her and save her, she shall be j
indeed all over one and indivisible and new j
Virginia, greater, stronger, grander than j
ever was old Virginia.
In this connection the General referred j
to the foreign embassy of the lamented j
Ballard Preston to the commercial men of:
France, and the letters of credence which I
he as Governor gave him, in which he !
traced the causes which, made Virginia
both unmanufacturing and uncommercial.
'Foreigners and strangers could not under
stand the slow progress of Virginia in
material resources as compared with other
States of less natural resources.
Virginia was not more populous, com
mercial. mining and manufacturing—her
public works lagged, and the mechanic
arts were not encouraged—because her
first settlers were all planters t and the ear
liest interest of our people wau a planta
tibn interest as contradistinguished from a
farming■ interest proper ^
J The, Geueral then spoke at some leitgth
of the change in the labor system of the
State, and the new duties it imposed upon
the people. He then addressed the young
. men as follows ;
You need not fear that there tvdll he tdd
j many of you in the field. Mining, Manu
facturing,' Commerce, Mechanic Arts, will
i now open-avenucp' for the skill and enter
j pnsc, and improVeiiiehts in all these will
! soon pay professional avocations higher
j fees and wages' than ever Compensated
; them before. Have your fathers thou
i sands of acres of lands; which now yield
I no income and cannot afford to poy labor
j for their cultivation ? Lay off the garden
! spots,' compost your wasted manures for
j the little you can fill, or selh or rent out or
; let lie out every impoverished acre. Aye,
do better :—advertise to select, immigrants
[that you will gladly give to them one-half
your superfluous lands and help thciti build
I and fence them, if they will come and
i settle. Their settlement will make the
j other half far more valuable than was or
is the whole. They will give you ncigh
i borhood and life, bring to you new lights,
i and be your source of most affective labor
i and of. richest returns. Abandon “one
\ ideas'—-herS3 it is wheat, there it is to
i bacco, yonder corn and potatoes—-and
somewhere else it is Brandy and Goober
[ Beds! Go to the fields mid be taught by
J your Own experience, learn of other- crops,
; and prepare your own fertilizers from the
i forest Laves and pine tags and straw and
I cattle and pig-pens. Don’t stand on the
I river's bank like the fool of Horace and
| wait for the waters to pass by before you
j cross this liubicou. Don’t wait to manure
1 until you can get capital to buy guano!
: Borrow not at all, but work and you will
i soon have wherewith to lend. The faith
| of Jackson saw this that the war would
j put our young men to work ! No more fox
! hounds! No more large morning holms !
: No more cigars and juleps! No more card
I parties and club-iuleness! No more syren
! retreats in summer and city halls in winter.
I The hard necessity which presses down
; upon our people may change the character
: in some lamentable respects, but it will also
| most happily strengthen us in other im
portant points. B will dispel some weak
j nesses which though grand and noble, itn
! p.eded the po.wer and progress of the State.
; Of the old Virginian it may well he said:
High-minded lie was ever, and improvident,
“ But pitiful and perverse to a fault
Pleasure he would but honor was his idol.”
To young Virginians I would say :—
i High-minded, pitiful and generous ever
be as were your fathers ; honor must ever
be your idol; but, be just before you are
\ generous; and let a life of mere pleasure
land all improvidence now cease! Now it
I is to be a life of work! work ! work until
I you are weary, and still weary, and still
| work on I—And blessed be God work on
j work ever until the waste places are all
j repaired, until our honor is redeemed,
) until debts old and new are paid, Until the
[ “‘old folks at home” shall sing all and be
j happy again—runtil the slogan of “Old
| Virginia never tire” can be raised again
I with a shout that the heaven of heavens
j shall hear and the Confederate saints above
shall approve as justifying the ways of
Providence to us! If I comprehend aright
and fully the meaning of Paradise itself,
and our lir.st parents’ expulsion, it is in part to
make us know that a pleasure ground of perfect
i nocenee even was not best for man. JJi-.obedi
ence was punished by expulsion, but the punish
ment was so tempered by the Mercy not the curse
that we should earn our daily bread by the sweat
of our brow. Blessed be God 1—that our task, if
well done, will make us happier and happier the
harder they are. Work, oh! young men, or you
are not men ! You are not Stonewall men ! You
are not Virginians worthy of these graves !- —
Work, or you can’t be happy!
The Governor here recounted some of the causes
which led to the impoverishment of the State.—
tie said that, when Virginia shall have completed
her lines of internal improvements, her prosperity
will begin, aud then industry will he capital. He
ended Lis address with the following peroration : j
There is still stamina and strength, and moral ;
prescience enough left in Old Virginia to save her
honor, and mere than insure her pristine pre-em
inence, if there is faith like that of Stonewall !
Jackson among her sons, and they will only stand i
bv her as did her Heroes in the war.
' We catch the inspiration.ol this Faith, this Hope,
this Life and Strength, fiotn the hallo of these
Heroes'. The great good that they whose remains
are tenants ot these graves did, lives alter them—
blessed be their sacred memories ’ 1 would not j
call them, if 1 could, back to me, save in their ex- |
amples. 1 divine not why 1, or any, were spared i
whou they were taken, but to bear testimony to
their truth and excellence, their innocence amt in- ;
Vincibilitv, and to try to live worthy of their
deaths, and be mure ready when the Creator calls
to meet them in Heaven!
Moan no funeral dirge, but with exulting an- j
thems, high and clear, swell the note of praise, ;
and our prayer that we may—
“Mark each motion of our swelling hearts
Lest we attempt to extricate ourselves
And seek delivci ance by forbidden ways:—
To keep our hope and innocence entire,
Till we are dismissed to join the happy dead,
Or Heaven relieves us here 1”
Bring,, then, no cypress here : bring laurels to
these graves;—spread them—heap thenm thick all
over and around ; and, as “virtue is the only am
aranthine flower on eai tb; the lasting treasure
Truth,” bring
“Immortal Amaranth ! a flower which since
In Paaadise. last by the tree oflife,
Began to bloom.”
Bring with “Joy of Grief,” flowers of sweetest
perfume and budding, blooming beauty, and make
“Flowers their couch,
Pansies and violets, and aspbodal,
Aad hyaeynth: earth’s freshest, softest lap !” j
A tea party without scandal is like a
knife without a handle.
Words without deeds are like husks
without seeds.
A land without laws is like a cat with
out paws.
A quarrel without fighting, when the
wrong we are righting, is like thunder
without lightning.
Pruning Grapes im the Fall.
Most grape growers delay pruning their*
I Vines till spring. This we think a bad
j practice.' If they wish to make cuttings
j of their surplus canes, they are hot near
I as good as if taken off in the fall and care
| fully buried or put away till spring. The
| wood is frequently so much injured by the
winter as hot to grow in the spring.
But the wood left for producing fruit is
better for being pruned in the fall. It is
much more easily protected,, as it can be
readily laid down and cohered slightly
with earth, and if we have a severe winter
it is safe. Indeed we think it would pay
to protect vines in this4fc'ay even in our
mildest winters.
It is not for ,the protection, of'..the vine
alone, however, that we recommend fall
I pruning. It is to strengthen the budsand
| canes which are left. Matty may think
; that it will have rio such effect! But if
| they pune two vines in . the same manner
i —one in the fall as soon as the leaves.are
j destroyed by the frost, and the other the
following spring—they will find that fall
i pruned vines will be much more vigorous
; and productive the ensuing summer.—
j The vine is not dead in the winter. Its
; roots continue to absorb food, though of
course are much benefitted, but as tile
buds remotest from the roots always re
ceive the principal flow of sap, they are
most benefitted. Now, by pruning in the
fall, all this is saved in the buds and cane
| we have left for bearing-. ‘ It is upon this
; principle that we always pturni in fair or
winter. By summer pruning we check
: wood growth, as all know. > ;
j The buds that are left will become
; strengthened by the sap they have receiv
i ed during the winter. They will push
I early and vigorously in Spring, and, if
1 well cared for, will delight the eyes of be
; holders with the large clusters of luscious
I fruit that they produce.—Laru't World.
Salt and Ashes Tor Horses.
| Those keeping horses should, twice a
j week, throw in a handful to each of salt
| and ashes. Mix them by putting three
i parts of salt to one of ashes. Horses rel
I i&h this, and it will keep their hair sott
| aud fine It will prevent hots, colic, &c.
j A little ground sulphur 'mixed with salt
1 and ashes, and given Once in two or three
i Weeks, is also beneficial. All domestic
animals will be thus benefitted.
Squaring tiie Circular.—The last
number of the Scientific American says
that one of its correspondents claims the
I solution of the long-mooted problem of
1 squaring the circle. It ridicules its cor
! respondent, yet gives his rule-,. whi?h is:
! “ To find the circumference of a. circle,
; take eleven fourteenths of the diameter
: and multiply by four ; or, in other wofds,
j take forty-four four-teenths «>f the diameter,
which gives the circumference.” The
I area he finds “by multiplying eleven
fourteenths of the diameter by the dia
meter. Seven-elevenths, ot the area of
the circle is the areaot the square contain
ed iu the circle. The square root of the
area of the circle will give the .sides of a
square equal in area to the circle To
which the American adds: ‘‘There-are no
sums representing equally any portiou of
a circle and the sides ot a square; so the
attempt to make the two coincide must be
forever futile.”
The best and shortest way of squaring
the circle is to find the square root of a
round number, (we don’t mean the5num
bers usually called ‘‘round,7 such as one
hundred). Whoever can find the square
rout of, say two hundred, can square tho
A lady in Charleston has just had three
babies at. a birth. Poor childish woman.
Hide for editors and ladies—short ar
tles for warm •weather
Pleasure is never solid enough to bear
analysis. It should be passed lightly ov
er, us hogs are, never letting the feet re
main a minute in the same place..
Wherever lie'goes, the Radicals give
Butler a “stirring” reception-. Of course
spoons arc in demand on all “stirring'.oc
“John. I am going to church, and if it
should rain I wish you would, come .wita
the umbrella for me ; however, you need not
come for me unless it should vain down
right .” The gati tie man wont. It did rain:
but John had gone to the other end of the
town to see Mary. 11 is master came back
with drenching garments and a Iook of im
placable anger. “John,” said he. “why
din’t you bring the umbrella? “Because,
sir,” said John , “it rained slanting.”
Reform.— He wlm reforms himself’has
done more toward reforming the public
than a crowd of noisy, impudtent patriots
Boy, did you let .off that gun Y* ejacu
lated an enraged schoolmaster. “Yes,
sir.” “Well, sir. what do y<*u think I will
lo to you?” “Why, let me oil.” •
Boasting is some times out. of place. We
once heard a man boats of being.a bachelor
as his father was before him.
“And you have taken the teetotal pledge,
have ye?” said a dram-seller to an Irishr
“Indade I have, and am not ashamed
of it, either.”
“ And did not Paul tell Tim6thy to take
a little wine for his stomach s sake t”
“So he did; but my name is not Timo
thy, and there is nothing the matter witi*
my stomach.” 1

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