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HA '- J. W. ROBERTS, Seboicd to figicilfijfre, eciftnlcs, fi.H3r ftetos, ty Gei)ety( liteie. Editor aid Proprietor. VOLUME IV, NUMBER 52. OSKALOOSA, KANSAS AUGUST 27, 1864; WHOLE NUMBER. 203. The h JTtltttttl Ol 'ELI. HE. The rollowlnu lines, which breathe the true spirit of poetry, wer written by Lanr Flora Himiu, who was the Tictlro of a cruel slander while one or Queen Victoria's Ufles In waiting, of which she was proved completely Innocent, after a searching in vestigation, and the parity or her life and character so triumphantly ftalllshed,that the Queen restored her to roller confidence and favor than before, and shewed her marked respect and rojal favor. She was the daughter of Lord Rawdon, of Revolutiona ry fame, afterwards Marquis Hasting, whose cruel ty to the patriots of South Carolina Is matter of his tery. She was much esteemed by all who knew her IcLiuately , and died a few years ago, highly respect ed and beloved, by a lingering and painful disease. Tclt me, ye winged winds, That round my pathway roar, Do yc not know some spot Where mortals weep no more? Uh fomt lone and quiet dell, Some alley in the West. Where, free from toil and ;aln, 'Hie weary soul may rest? The loud wind softened to a whisper low, ,Aud sighed for pity as it answered, "No !" Tell me, thou mighty deep, Whose billows round me play, KuowVt thou some favored spot, Some island far away, 1 here weary man may find The bliss for which he sighs T Where Sorrow ueter lives, And Friendship never dies! The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow, Stopped for awhile, and ans ered, '! !" And thou, ecrencst Moon, That with such holy fare Dost look upon the earth, Asleep in nigbfa embrace; Tell me, in all thy raund. Hast thou not seen some spot Where miserable man Might find a happier lot? Behind a cloud the Moon withdrew in woe, And a voice, sweet but sad, responded, "So T' TV II me, my secret soul, O! tell me, Hope and Faith, Is there no resting place From corro . sin and death ? Is there no happy spot here mortals may be blest? Where grief may Cud a balm, And wcarines a real? Faith, Hope and Lote, best boon to mortals given. Waved their Might sings, and whispered, "Yes, in Heaven !" THE 910SS HOSE. - The angel of the Cowers, one day. Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay That spirit to whose charge is given, To bathe young buds in dews of heaven. Awakening from his slight repose, The Angel whispered to the Rose : Ofc, fondest object of my care. Still fairest foul! where all is fair. For the sweet shade thon'st given me, Ask what thou wilt, lis granted thee.1' Then said the Rose, with deepened glow: 'On me another grace bestow." The Angel paused in silent thought W hat grace was there the flower had not? ,Twas bat a moment o'er the Rose A veil of moss the Angel throws; And, robed in Nature's simplest weed. Could there a flower that Rose exceed ? MtM affccMi. A LOYAL QUAKER. Yri?n David Blake took the charge vf tiu sister's orphans, he inwardly '.owed to be a true father to them as he lived. Perhap I wrong the principles of llie worth Quaker for David was u zealous member of that persuasion iii asserting that he made a tow eyen to himself. But he certainly made a solemn affirmation to that efiect,whelh ti it took the form of an oath or not. And all who saw the tender care be stowed upon James and Harry during the helpless years of childhood and orp'oanage, could attest the sincerity of their noble hearted protector. This was thought the more remarkable when it was knows that he was not at liberty to bring up the boys after his own views, their dying mother having specially desired that they should (Tot become Quakers. Uncle David was a bachelor. Neither he nor bis prim housekeeper, Esther Lake, were used to the society of children. But the old ball was open ed wide like the beart of its owner to receive them; and even solemn Aunt sther soon Jemed to greet the boys with smile. James and Harry well repaid their ancle's kindness. They loved bin warmly; and showed both tbeir affec tion and gratitude'by a devoted attcn ien to kit wishes. In bU large manu factory they early made themselves useful, aBd when of suitable age began to ill sit nations of trust and responsi bility. Harry Eiton was twenty years old, and bis brother two years more than that when the fall of Fort Sumter startled the loyal North, and sent its young men from the shop and plow to the camp and the battle-field. "What shall I do, James V said bis younger brother. "1 mast go to my country's help; I cannot stay away. Bm Uncle David does not believe in war, and I suppose will think me a bead-strong and hair brained boy for wtsttme to fight. ' "Yea," replied James; "Uncle Is a ease man, or course; all the Quakers ere by profession. Yon will not get his leave to be a soldier; it is of no use t t'riakef k, Harry." "Bat I matt, brother; I can think of nothing else. All the blood in my veins is throbbing for Union and liberty; and my arms are strainino- for the musket to avenge this treachery, and put down rebellion. Uncle David dare not keep me back from service in such a cause. "Ask him and see," was the reply. Harry did ask, though to face and to displease his ancle tried bis courage more than to confront the f.e in arms. "What does thee want to fight for ?" was the answer. "Thy fair cheek, so like thy mother's, is too tender and smooth for a sword cut or a bullet-hole. There's something besides poetry in war, my boy. Harry s cheek flushed and his eye glistened, but he stood his ground like a man. In a few words he spoke of his country's perjl; of the call to its de fense; of the deep and ready response which bis heart made to that call; and implored his uncle to let him server his country, and if need be to die lor it. "Thee is a brave boy. Harry, and I do not love thee less for this," said his Uncle David with a choking voice. 'But war is contrary to my faith, and I cannot send thee to bent. .M either. Harry, will I say thee nay. Thee must be free to do as the inward voice bids thee. And, Harry, whatever thee need- est, ask Aunt lather and Jamie for. 1 will see that they have a full purse. God bless thee, and keep thy young head from harm." So Hairy Eaton became a soldier. Six months passed, and the smooth cheek and strong arm of the young patriot were laid low; and he was buri ed beside bis mother. The blood which throbbed so warmly for Union and liber ty bad been spilled in his first battle, but it bad not flowed in vain. James Eaton was roused from his indifference, and fell that he had a double mission, to avenge Harry, and to defend the cause for which his young brother had laid down his life. Yet be knew that his uncle could ill spare him. The shop was full of workmen, and br (young as he was) had the oversight of them. How could he ask to be releas ed ? The struggle in his mind wore upon him; he grew thin and pale. Uncle David watched him closely, though James never suspected his observation. At length he spoke. "I see how it is Jamie; thee is pining for Harry's musket. Whv does thee not go, even as he did V "I want to go, indeed, uncle; you have rightly guessed. But how can you get along without me ?" "Well, Jamie, I've been thinking about it; and I do not feel free to keep thee from thy duty. Perhaps the rest of the boys would like to le.ive the shop, too. I don't hold to war, thee knows; and it would ill become me to turn recruiting officer. But if the Gov ernment must fighi, surely it had heller have all the men it needs. And t-o, Jamie, if the shop-boys want to go, I'm not the man to say them nay. We will shut up the factory till the war is over; and then all of those who ate spared to coma back shall have their places again, if the Lord will. Ai,d. Jamie, here's my bank-book; I couldn't buy powder and shot, tbee knows, that wouldn't do for a Quaker. But surely I'm bidden to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, so thee may buy as many blankets and- rations as thee pleases." James Eaton led a gallant and well equipped company to the war. When he was badly wounded, Uncle David thought it right to go and tend him; and now that he is again fit for service. he has re-filled the emptied purse, and bid him good-speed. MisttlUntoM. Baby Culture. A mother wbo baa evidently acquired experience in Wis most important science, writes as wJlows, from New Haven, to the American Agriculturist: How are most babies treated Are tbey not smothered in blankets, kept in warm rooms, and cool, freak! air avoid ed, as if it were n pestilence ? Do they not worry and cry for this Very want; and then doesn't nurse come to helpless mama, and insist that the little creature is hungry, though nursed but a short time before? Then, hungry cr not, its cries are stilled with loud it dees not need, bona fide pain comes, diseases often follow in dire succession, and mother and nurse are well worn out before many days with such a worrying child! Wbo would not worry under such treatment ? Babies appre ciate oxygen thoroughly, and there would not be so many "terrible in fants," were there more of it in sleep ing and living apartments. Well, to be practical, and "give my experience," which consists at ibis pre sent time of as healthy specimens of boys and girls as ever made parents' hearts brim fall of thankfulness. I have pursued from tbeir birth undevia- tlng regukriy in sleep, food, and out door life nothing but downright rain preventing the Mter. Mothers tell me, "Oh, its a very gd way if you can only wry it ami, butI can't." Well, if children are not worth self denial; if they are not better than calls or company, or visiting, then they must go to the servants; but to those warm mothers hearts which make light of all fatigue and care, for the sake of the baby who accept the sweet task com mitted to their bands by a Heavenly Father, how much better to have the key of sunny faces, and joyous, rippling laughter, than wry faces and shrieks "that make hideous." If a child is born healthy, all it needs to thrive, is, the carrying out of simple, natural laws. For the first few week", eery two hours is often enough for nursing; after that, once in three; it will then be regularly hungry, and as regularly satisfied; if it cries, you will know it is not hungry; and its stomach will never be over-loaded. Let it sleep in a crib by your side, never with you; then sleep is longer, sweeter and more refreshing. Never wake a child no, not to show it to the Queen of England ! Wrap it well, all but the face, and take it daily into the purest air you can find. Let its baths be not decidedly cold water, and before nursing, and then another nice nap will follow. As it glows a few months older, keep it out of doors half the time, and in summer its best naps will bo under the broad roof of heaven; and in winter don't stop fot cold, but wrap ped up like a perfect mummy, out with the baby, and if you want to see the little one's cheeks take on the rose, let it feel the splendid tonic in a sharp nor'-wester, and it will smile -at the snow flakes as they toftly melt on its velvet eheeks.and grow daily so strong, and fat, and happy, that the little life will b one continual hymn of praise to God for its own existence. The observance of regular hours for the morning and afternoon nap, and laying the child iu its crib, wide-awake when the lime comes, is of the great est importance. It all turns on com mencing right,and then there's no trou ble. How infinitely belter to lay a laughing, playful creature, with a good night kis, lo sleep its long, heahliiul sleep, than the common rocking and hushing so often repeated, and often in vain or the watching by the hediide, or the leaving of a light to go to sleep by. Never reward a child for crying by giving the article desired; wait till it stops. Teiftli it to amuse itself often, and not require some one to be con stantly blinking a rattle, or tapping a window, but lay ii on a bed or floor, with a plaything; a slipper is an unfail ing amusiment, when all oilier object fail. Lastly, always endeavor lo have a serene, pleasant face when you nurse your child; for, chameleon like, it is taking hues lo its soul, that color and shape it for life and eternity. Family Estimates. While there are families in which there exists a prepos terous over-ettmate of the talents and acquirements of their several members, there are other families in which the rifle-bullet has glanced off in the op posite direction, and in which there exists a depressing and unreasonable underestimate of the talents and ac quirementi of their several members. I have known such a thing as a farrily in which certain boys, dunng their early education, had it ceaselessly drilled in 10 them that they were the idlest.stupi-d-st, and most ignorant boys in the world. The poor little fellows grew up under that gloomy belief; for conscience is a very artificial thing, and you may bring up very good boys in the belief that they are very bad, At length, happily, thev went to a great public school; and, like rockets, they went up forthwith to the top of their classes, and never lost their places there. From school they went to the university, and there won honors more eminent than had ever been won before. It will not surprise people who know much of human nature, to be told that through this brilliant career of school and col lege woik, the home-belief in (heir idle ness and ignorance continued unchang ed, and hardlj at its end was the toil- worn senior wrangler regarded as other than an idle and useless blockhead. Now, the affection which prompts the ondet-estimate may be quite as real and deep as that wliich prompts the over estimate, but its manifestation is cer tainly the less amiable and pleasing. I bave known a successful author, whose relatives never believed, till the reviews assured them of it, that his writings were anything but contemptible and discreditable trash. True GEKTiUTr. High breeding gracefully insists oo its own rights; good breeding remembers the rights ol others. We have all seen that dignifi ed courtesy which belongs to high birth, which never offends as long as it is not personally harmed. But we know that that will not last : provocation makes.it as bitter and vulgar as the breeding of the most uncultivated person. Far, far above tbis is the polish which the high est Christianity gives lo the heart. It is not 'gentility,' but 'gentleness.' . Nothing is so fragile as thought in its infancy an interruption breaks it; nothing is so powerful.even to the over turning of mighty empires, when it reaches maturity. The Thoroughly Educated. A man entering into life, says Mr. Raskin, ought accurately to know three things. First, where be is, secondly, where he is going; thirdly what he had best do under these circumstances. First. Where be is that ie to say, what sort of a world he faasTgot into; bow large it is ? what kins) of crea tures live iu it, and how; (what is it made of, aBd what may be made of it ? Secondly, Where be is goieg that is to say, what chances or reports there are of any other world besides this; and, whether, for information respect ing it, he had better consult the Bible, Koran, or Council of Trent ? Thirdly, What he had best do under these cir cumstances that is to say, what kind of faculties he possesses; what are the present state and wauls of mankind; what is his place in society; and what are the readiest means in his power of attaining happiness and diffusing it. The man who knows these things, and who has bad his will so subdued in the learning them, that he is ready lo do what he knows be nught, I should call educaled.and the man wbo knows them not, uneducated, though he can talk all the tongues of Babel. - s Property in Liquor. I know well what Kquor dealers and distillers will say. They allege that their property is taken away, and their means of liv ing prohibited. Very well; but what is your property ? It has been applied to procure means to corrupt and destroy the community. Counterfeiters lay out large sums to procure dies for stamp ing coins, and plates for imitating the best bank bills. Are their establish ments to be protected ? The erectors of those drcadiul places (rightly call ed) Hells, expend very large sums, and adorn them with magnificence. Must the community respect this properly ? Even honest men erect a slaughter house or a manufactory with noisome gasses issuing from it, in the midst of a city or town. Is this property to be protected ? Men adulterate medicines, and congress rises up to a man and forbids it, not only by legislation but by active inspecting officers. Are they not in the right ? Bui are tbey con sistent ? There are hundreds of thou sand of bogheads of adulterated liquor, much of it containing rank poison.over which they exercise no inspection, and submit lo no examination. Is this a d ie protection of the ignorant and un suspecting part of the community ? Scores ol thosands die every year through the influence of these poisons. And have society no remedy against all this ? Maine has nobly said they have. She has spoken with trutn pt-tongue thai which eternal truth will sanction. Talk of propety in the means of corrupting and destroy ihe commu nity I Why, then the robber's cave, and the counterfeiter's shop, where his expensive work is done, is property to be respected. Even the innocent and industrious man, if he undertakes a business which poisons the air and en dangers the life of the citizens, is at once compelled to relinquish his station How can any man rightly own that as properly which sends forth pestilence and death through a whole community? The plea for property is idle. It is un worthy a moment's regard. Prof. Stuart of Andover. SlS The Mixtiso-Mill or Gemos. "Yes, indeed! The mind of a man is not a sponge,, but a crucible. He who merely draws knowledge in, and pours it out unaltered, does his neighbor a wrong cheats him of the additional value which he should have impressed upon it by reflection. Tho tiue and honest intellect receives facts, melts them in the proportions of its favorite alloy, then crystallizes them into new systems and theories, runs them into ingots in the mold of its own peculiar thing, or stamps them for rare current- able coins iu the royal minling-mill of genius. Thus, when they coma iorth again to pass tor value in me uses 01 w j t . . r the world, tbey are gems that attract men to truth by a now brilliancy, golden bars purified for the purpose of some other minds' re-manufacture, or coins whose novel form and authoritative stamp carry them through wider areas of mental traffic, and give them a worth and credit which mankind never before perceived, passing them by unnoticed in their cruder forms." Rotteh Hocus. In the gingham mill a broken thread or shred spoils the web throug a piece a hundred yards, and it is traced back to the girl that wove it, and lessens her wages. Are you so can-rnino-. Mr. Profitless, and do vou expect to swindle your master and employer in the web yon weave ? A day is a more magnificent cloth than any muslin ; the mechanism that make it infinitely can ninger, and you shall not conceal the sleesy, fraudulent, roUen hours you tiavo alinntd into the oieoo. nor fear that any honest thread, or straighter steel, or more flexible shaft, will not lesuiy in the web. ftncietv ia a atronff solution of books It draws the virtue out of what is best worth reading, as hot water .raws the strength ol ten leaves. Good Wards, by Mrs. Erkland. "Woman," says Mrs. Kirkland. "is the natural and God-appointed aid of woman in ber needs; the woman that feel not this bas yet to learn her mis sion aright. Among the most precious of woman'a rights is the right to Ho good to her own sex; .'against such there is no law,' but iu its favor, every law of fellow-feeling, of liberal kind ness, of modesty and propriety. Sad it is that fallen woman hopes less from her sisters than from her brothers that it ia more difficult to convince ber of woman's forgiveness than of man's or God's. It is time tbis were altered; it is lime that woman excused from many of the severer dutise assumed by the other sex should consider them selves as a community having special common needs and common obligations, which it is a shame to them lo turn aside from, under the plea of inability or distaste. Every woman in misfortune or disgrace is the proper object of care to the happier and safer part of her sex. Not to stretch forth to her the helping nana not to labor for ber restoration to respectability not to defend her against wrong and shield her from tem tation is to consent to her degrada tion, and to become, in some sense, party to her ruin. Because, from the very nature of the case.if women deny ber claim, 'she has no natural friend; none who can fully sympathize' with her, or whose countenance and aid will incline the world in her fayor." .c;- - A Sanguinary Combat in 1586. Twenty thousand men on ech side now met at puh of pike oo the bunk of the Mense. Tiie non was pouring in tor rents, the wind blowing a gale, the stream was rapidly rising and threaten ed to overwhelm its shorts. By a tacii and mutual consent, both armies pause for a few moments in full view of each other. After this brief interval, they closed again in sharp and steady con flict. The ground slippery with rain and with blood, which was soon flowing almost as fast as the rain, afforded an unsteady looting to the combatants. They staggered like drunken men, fell upon their knees or upon their backs, and. still kneeling of rolling prostrate, maintained the deadly conflict. For the space of one hour and a half the fierce encounter of human passion out mastered the fury of the elements. Norri and Hohenlo fought at the beads of their columns like paladius of old. The Englishman was wouuded in the mouth and breast; the Count was seen to gallop past one thousand muskeeters and cahvermen of the enemy, and to escape unscathed. But as the strength of the soldiers exhausted itself, the vio lence of the tempest increased, The floods of rain, and the blasts of the hurricane at last terminated the affray. The Spaniards, fairly conquered, were compelled to a retreat, lest the rapidly rising river should sweep away the frail and trembling bridge over which they had passed to their unsuccessful assault. The English and Netherlander remain ed masters of the field. The rising flood, too, which was fast converting the meadows into a lake, was as useful to the conquerors as it wae damaging to the Spaniards. History of the United Netherlands. "When I went to Topeka, to urge my claims for the United States Senate, I had just twenty-seven dollars and a half. Since then, I have not received a dollar beyond my salary for services as United States Senator." Jim Lane. Let us lo,k into that. His salary is 83.000 a year. Add mileage, and call it $4,000, He has been in office three years, which would bring him $12,000. Out of this he has supported his family; his travelling and boarding expenses are kept up continually, and mut be enor mous ; he expends thousands in de bauchery; he built a fine house at Law rence, which, wiih all it contained, was destroyed by Quantiel), and now he is building another; he has purchased large tracts of valuable land in the vi cinity of Lawrence, wliich be is fencing and improving; he is also fencing land for his son-in-law; ana. in addition lo all this, he no. Int; since, in going surety upon a bond, untie oath thai he was worth S50.0j0, over all liabilities. If he told th- truth in his speech, he made oath to a lie; and vice versa. IF. V. Chief. . Grant at Ciuxkers. The Water- town, N. Y. Daily Reformer says : 'When the General was a Lieutenant, lfe was stationed for some lime at Sack- ctts Harbor, and tn those days paid fre quent visits to our village. Me was a famous checker player, and was worn to spend many an hour at the old Ameri can Hotel in this absorbing game. But there was one of our citizens, I whose name me are forbidden to mention) who could beat the Lieutenant at his favor- its game. But young Grant would nev er give up. and would insist on his com petitor plaving with him till he came out ahead, which he would, at last, always do. To secure tbis end. he sometimes keot his friend up nearly all nighl, and would stay in town three days, studying bis long-beaded moves, and forcing his oppoaent to play until be beat him in the wind. Grant is now playing check ers in the same style with Lee on ike Virginia board. Mature sad Ait. In the "Stones of Venice," a criti cism on architecture, by John Raskin, who has distinguished himself as the author of several works on taste of great merit, the expression of Raffaeile, "that the artis'.'s object was to make thiagi not as nature made them, bat as she would make them," is thus comment ed on : "RaShelle was a painter of hauMuitr. and assuredly tbere is something ihe matter with humanity more or less wanting in it. We hava most of us heard of original sin, and mav. DerliaD. in our modest moments, conjecture that we are not quite what Uod or nature would have, us to be. Raffaeile had something lo mend in humanity; but 1 should like to have seen him mending a daisy or a pea's bloasom, or a moth, or a mustard seed, or any other of God's slightest works. If he bad accomplish ed that, one might have found for him more respectable employment to set the stars in belter order perhaps (ihey seem to be grieviously scattered as they are, and to be all manner of shapes and sizes.-except the ideal shape and the proper size); oi to give us a corrected wew of the ocean." Thero is tiuth in this, says the Coun try Gentlemen, couched in pointed, yet delicate satire. Everything in nature is perfrct. We cannot add to the beau lyy of any of her productions taken separately, and all attempts to improve upon her works are mutilations and dis figurations. We can only group her beauties in more attractive forms, and thus present them to eyes vhjeb other wise wouM hot discern their liveliness. The object of the true artist, like that of the true philosopher, divine and phi lanthropist, is "to rightly divide the words of truth." Si Leaves Its Hark. Mr. Gough, iu a lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association of London, discoursing upon the corrupt ing influences of bad associates, alluded to the inevitable penalty of mental suf fering which every transgressor incurs. "What you learn from bad habits and in bad society," said he. .."you will never forget, and it will be a lasting pang to you. I tell you, in all sincerity, not as in the excitement of a speech; but as I would confess, and have con fessed before God, I would give my right hand, to-night, if I could forget that hich 1 have learned in evil society if 1 could tear from my remembrance the scenes which I have witnessed, the transactions -which have taken place before me. You cannot take away the effect of a single impure thought that has lodged and harbored in the heart. You may pray against, and, by God's grace, conquer ii; but it will always be a thorn in the flesh to you, and will cause you bitterness and anguish." An Irishman got out of the cars at a railway station for refreshments, and unfortunately the bell rang and the train left before he had finished his re-p-tst. "Hould on I" cried Pal, as be ran like mat after the car; "hould on, ye murtberin old sthame ingin ye've got a passenger aboard tint's lift be h:nd." How to Stop a Rukmno Hoasx. The horse has very little power to re sist a side pull on his bridle, although immense power for a direct or down ward pull. Hence, if you aio riding, and your horse attempts to run, lake a short hold on one rein, pull his' head round, and make the horse turn and turn until he is satisfied to go quietly along. This is what Mr. Rarey teaches. Much of the pain and pleasure of man kind arises from the conjectures which every one makes of the thoughts of oth ers; we all enjoy praise w hich we do i ot hear, and resent contempt which we do no, see. There ifa always good policy iu keep ing one's temper. As often as temper is lost, a degree of influence is lost with it; and while ihe former may be recov ered, it will be found more difficult to recover tho latter. Ambition often puts men to doing the meanest offices as climbing is perform ed iu the same posture a creeping. The loveliest faces are to be seen by ihe moonlight, when one sees half with the imagination. Paddy's description of a fiddle can not be beat : "It was the shape of a turkev, and the size of a goose; be turn ed it over on its bach and rubbed its belly with a crooked slick, and ocb, St. Patrick ! how ii did squale !'' The wind is unseen, but it cools the brow of tho fevered one sweetens the summer atmosphere and ripples the surface of the lake into silver spankles of beauty. So goodness of heart,tbougb invisible to the material eye. makes its presence felt, and from its effect upon surrounding things we ate sure of its existence. The less we require from other?, the more wc obtain. To exercise authority too much, is the way to lose iu It is not impossible to impose silence on the interior voice that upbraids us with our faults. It ta the voice of na ture herself. bhS Vss( leiling Stoeli A gentleman from Connecticut told as. recently, that on fifty acres of laud, be kept twenty-five head of cattle thro' the year. Most of these cattle were milch cows; and from these he made two hundred pounds of batter annually, beside raising his calves and supplying bis family with milk. "How is thaf, sir ? we aked; 'Tor ta Uhio, a man must own three limes that amount of land io keep the same number ?' "Why," said he, "1 soil them. 1 keen litem in the stable both winter and summer, ex cept a couple of hours daily, when they are out for water and exercise. My first feed in the spring is rye, sowed early in the fall, so it will do to cut early in May, After ihe re cornea clover. and after the clover corn. I sow lbs Southern White corn in drills, three bushels to the acre. With this reen feed I give a little dry hay. to prevent scouring. Viould not dairymen in OInn find it to their advantage to prepire a portiou of soil every spring, and sow with some cropfor soiling, to a certain extent, dur ing the summer? those who have little range of pasture should experiment until they, by the most improved man agement, can keep as many cattle as those wbo own large fields do under the usual cultivation. One mm can take care of tweaty-five bead, if soiled thro' the summer, save and compost all the manure, and help considerably at other work, Try it, fAe tamer. Plenty of breathing room is of the first consequence, whether we are providing entertainment for man or beast. All cannot afbrd to lodge their horses so well as others, or even to give them selves as much breathing space as science and common sense say is desir able; but many, even in stables where cost has not beau considered, restrict tbeir horses most unwisely, simply for want of thought and knowledge. It is well known, as pointed out by Mr. Mites, that a horse, whose stable is well lighted. drained and ventilated, and in which be has room to move, will do considerably more work, and require less corn, than the same horse would do, if kept tied up in a badly contrived stable, although his allowance of corn may be greatly increased. The vitiated atmosphere he is doomed to live in, the want of pure air lo breathe, and the absence of the cheerful influence of light, combine to make him dull, listless and dispirited; and no amount of corn can counterbal ance their depressing effects. In forming the boxes, it must be re membered thai while the horse should have a quiet corner to feed in, he likes to see his neighbor. A ramp iu the partition, falling awiy from the rack, filled up with five-eighth inch round iron bars, placed one inch apart, admits of these coadiuons. sell traps in many situations are invaluable, but in a stable they are out of place. They form evap orating pans, til ed with liquid refuse- to afford a coustaot supply of noxious gases, w Ihe flooring of stables is a matter of verv considerable conspquence. Noth ing can be worse thad the pebble pitch ing which is often used. It is inaonva nient for the horse to stand or lie upon; soon falls into pits; enables the earth to absorb any amount of moisture, and frequently retains it in puddles, to evap orate and poison the air. Good clink ers, set herting-bone fashion, on a bed of concrete, form the host stable floor that has ever been suggested. Where the expense of clinkers is an objection to their use.liard and un.ibiorbetu com mon bricks placed on edge in a herring bone pattern (which improves the foot hold ) may bo substitued. Iron for mangers, Mr, Mites thinks a cold and uncomfortable material fur a horse to feed out of, particularly in winter, wheu its surface is wetted with the condensed breath of the horse, Builder. '--m To Clarity. Sugar for Preserving. Put into a preserving-pan as mny pounds of sugar as 30J wish; to each pound of sugar put half a pint of water, and the while of an egg lo every four pounds; stir it together until the sugar is dissolved; then set it over a gentle fire; stir it occasionally, and take off the scum as it rises; after a few boilings- up, the sugar will rise so high as to run over the aide of the pau; to prevent which, take it from the fire for a few minutes, when it will subside, and leave time forskimmiBg; repeal the skimming until a slight scum or foam only will rise; ihen take off the pan, lay a slightly wetted napkin over the btsia, and then strain the sugar through it; put the skimmings into a basin; when the sugar is clarified, rinse tbe skimmer and basin with a glass ef cold water, and put it to the scum, and set it by for common purposes. If you step out of tbe ranks.tbe crowd may pass on; the vacant space may be occupied; and you mav aever bo able to fiad your place "again. There are more men than there are hole, aud all the holes get filled up.