literature. ’ THE AULD MAN’S MAivs, I B! W. G. Cour'rs. Oh wae’s me, noo, my Peggy’s gape, Wha’d thocht I'd live to close her e’e ? She's in the moolsâ€"l’tn a’ alarm-e: There’s no ane left that cares for me. Oh weel I mind when she was young. An’ blythe’s the lambs. in on the brae; The kindly word aye graced her tongue. Wi’ winning, sweet simplicity. The day l ca’d the lassie mine, She’d jimply measured oot her teens ; I bless that dayâ€"I’ve proved sin sync-7- " A'loving wife’s the best e’ frien’s,’t ' But, noo she’s gane, what do I here 'I I’m auld an’ fushenless an’ dry ; Her loving voice upon my ear N no mair my senses can descry, our bairnies, they went on before: They’ve entered a’ that state 0,’ rest Which, in our God, remains in store For a’ that love and serve Him best Then, wha wad thole to bide the ban 0’ wardly cares when they grow auld 7 There’s few put up wi’ an auld man, To him the warld grows aye mair cauld. They’ca’ me aye a fashions earl, Auld folk aye are in the way : It's time for me to leave the warf, When a’ Ilove has pass’d away. I dinna grumble at my fate. The’ steep’s the brae I hae to climb ; ‘t In patient weel-doing I will wait The days 0’- my appointed time.†It isna’ lang I’ll has to brsve Neglect, an’ scorn, an†words unkind ; Ac foot’s already in the grave, ' The ither’s tottering close behind. I wadna’ tak’ auither lease 0' this frail tenement o’ clay ; I’m weary noo to be at peace-:1 I’m ready now to pass away, Life, at best, is but a vision, Transient, sbawdowy, and obscure ; There’s nothing sure but strict revision 0’ a’ our thochts an’ acts impure. Death ! What is it ? Dissolution 7 No. Tho’ it’s shawdow's dark an†broad, The only death’s the soul’s pollution. ,- The only life is life in God. OCEOLA: â€"â€"_ A ROMANCEâ€"BY CAPT. M- REID. ._.._ ( Continued.) The place I remembered well.â€"-â€" , had crossed there beforeâ€"~two months before-s-while tracking the steed of Oceola. It was the path that had been taken by the young chief. The coincidence produced upon me a certain impression; and. not without pain did I ob- y...___ 4-,... serve it. It led to reflection. There was time, as the trail was in placos less conspicuous, and the ï¬nding it delayed our advance. it led to inquiry, ' , Had any one seen the savages? .â€"-oor noted to what band they belonged? Who was their leader ? Yes. All these questions were answered in the afï¬rmative-- Twomen, lying concealed by the road, had seen the indians passing awayâ€"had seen their captives, too ;‘ my sisterâ€"Violaâ€"rwith other girls of the plantation. These were on horseback, each clasped in the, arms of a savage. The blacks travelled afoot. They were not bound. They appeared to go willingly. The Indians were *Redsticks ’â€"â€"led by Oceola. Such was the belief of those around me, founded upon the re- port ofthe men who had laid in ambush, _ lt is} diflicult to describe the impression produced upon me.â€" It was painful in the extreme. I endeavoured not to believe the report. I resolved not to give it credence, until I should have further conï¬rmation of its truthfulness. Oceolal O heavens! Surely he would not have dene this deed? It could not have been he? The men might have been mis- taken. It Was before daylight the savages had been seen. The darkness might have deceived them. Everyrfeat performed by the In- ,diansLâ€"ievery foray madeâ€"â€"W3s put down to the credit of Oceola. .Oceola was everywhere. Surely he had not been there? Who were the two menâ€"wthe witnesses? Not without s'urprise ,did I listen to the answer. They were Spence and Williams! To my surprise, too, I now learn ed that they were among the party who followed meâ€"volunteers to aid me in obtaining revenge for my wrongs! ’ ‘Strarige,l thought; but stranger still that Arens Ringgold was not there. He had been present at the Scene of the conflagration; and, as l was told, among the loud- est in his threats of vengeance-re. But he had returned home; at all ,events, he was not one of the band of pursuers. ‘ I called Spence and Williams, and questioned them closely.â€" They ‘adhered to their statement. They admitted that it was dark when they had seen the Indians returning from l l whether they were the warriors of the massacre.â€"-â€" conclusion. They could not tell for certain m SCA ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. Vol. 'I. the ‘Long Swamp.’ They be- lieved them to be the former. As to who was their leader, they had no doubt whatever. It was Oceola who led them. They knew him by the three ostrich feathers in his head-dress, which rendered h-iin conspicuous among his followers. These fellows spoke posi- tively. What interest could they have in deceiving me? What could it matter to them, whether the chief of the murderous band was Oceola, Coa Hajo, or Onopa himself? Their words produced convic- tion-recombined With other circum- stances, deep painful conviction.â€" The inurlerei' of my motherâ€"he who had ï¬red my home, and borne my sister into a cruel captivityâ€"â€" could be no other than Oceola. All memory of our past friend- ship died upon the instant.â€" My heart burned with hostility and hate, for him it had once so ardently admired. THE ALAnm. There were other circumstances connected with the bloody aflair, that upon reflection appeared pe- culiar and mysterious. By the sudden shock, my soul had been completely benighted; and these Circumstances had escaped my no- tice. Imerely believed that there had been an onslaught of the Indians, in which my mother had been massacred, and my sister borne away from her homeâ€"â€"that the savages, not satisï¬ed With blood, had added ï¬reâ€"â€"ihat these outrages had been perpetrated in revenge for past wrongs, endured at the hands of their pale-faced eiiemiesuthat the like had oc- curred elsewhere, and was almost daily occurring-wwth not on the banks of the Suwanee, as in other districts of the country? In fact, it had been rather a matter of won- der, that the settlement had been permitted to retriain so long unmo- lested. Othersâ€"Jar more remote from the Seminole strongholdsâ€"â€" had already suffered a like terrible visitation; and why should ours escape! The immunity had been remarked, and the inhabitants had become lulled by it into a false security. The explanation given was that the main body of the Indians had been occupied elsewhere, watching the inoveuiients of Scott’s triple army; and, as our settle- tnent was strong. no small band had dared to come against it. But Scott Was l‘l()W goneâ€" his troops had retired within the fortsâ€"~their summer quartersâ€" for winter is the season of camp- aigning in Florida ; and the Indians. ' to whom all seasons were alike, were now free to extend their mar- border plantations. This appeared the true expla- nation why an attack upon the settlement of the Suwanee had been so long deferred. During the first burst of my grief, on receiving news of caiuiiiitj, l 'chCCPltid it as such: I and mine had merely been the victims of a general vengeance. But the moments of bewilder- ment soon passed; and the pe- culiar circumstances, to which I. have alluded, began to make them- selves apparent to my’mind. First of ‘all, why was our plan- tation the only one that had been attacked ?-â€"â€"our house the only one given to the flames ?â€"-â€"-our family the only one murdered? These questions startled me: and natural it was that they did sb,' There were other plantations along the river equally unproâ€" tectedâ€"other families far more noted for their hostility to the Semi- nole racer-nay, what was yet a greater niysteryi, tne Rioggold plantation lay in the very path of the marauders; as their trail tes- siï¬ed, they had passed around It to reach our . house ;' and both ; Arens Ringgold and his father had long been notorious for bitter en- mity to the red men and violent. aggressions against their rights. Why, then. had the Ringgold plantation been suffered to remain unmolested, while ours was singled out for destruction? ‘Were we the victims of a particular and spe- cial vengeance? _ ‘ It must have been so; be- yond doubt.vit was so. 1 After long reflection, Icould arriveat no other By this alone could the ystery be solved. . ' . And Powellâ€"ohlcould it have the ‘Redstick’ tribe, or those about leven of a smaller force. ' people alledged that it was a retreat. the r RBORO’. YORK, MARKHAM, VAUGH A -i . .‘e‘o‘. i.‘ ' “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than. Popular Opinion.†RICHMO ND HILL, FRIDAY, he?â€"-â€"my friend, a ï¬endlnear enough. Was it; probable? was it possible? Noâ€"n either. Despite guilty of such an atrocious deedl'lo’ thar rifles y’ul hear ï¬rst. the testimony of the two menâ€"vile wretches I knew them to beâ€"despite what they hadl seen and saidâ€"my heart refused to believe it. What motive could he have for such special murder?â€"ahl what motive? True, my mother unkind to ltimâ€"-more than that. ungrateful; she had once treated him with scorn. Iremembered it wellâ€"he, too, might remember it. But surely be, the noble youth â€"â€"to my mind, the bean of heroismâ€"would scarcely have had been ing harboured such petty spite, and for payed it by an act of such bloody retribution? Noâ€"â€"no-â€"-no. Besides, would Powell left untouched the the Ringgolds? of Arens Ringgold, one of his most hated foes have ble Circumstance the whole affair. connected with Ringgold had been at home â€"â€"might have been entrapped in his sleepâ€".xâ€"his black retainers would scarcely have resisted; at all events, they could have been overcome as easily as ours. Why was he permitted to live? Why was his house not given to the flames? Upon the supposition that Oceola was the leader of the baud, I could not comprehend why he should have left Arens Ringgold to live, while killing those who were scarcely his enemies. New information, imparted to me as we advanced along the route, produced new reflectioos. I was told that the Indians had made a hasty (lepartureâ€"that they had, in fact.'retreated. The con- flagration had attracted a large body of citizen soldiery~â€"a patrol upon its:roundsâ€"-and the appear- ance of these, unexpected by the savages, had caused the latter to scamper off to the woods. But for this, it was conjectured other plantations would have suffered the fate of oursâ€"perhaps that of Ringgold himself. The tale was probable enough. The band of marauders was not largeâ€"we knew by their tracks there were .not more than ï¬fty of themâ€"and this would account tor their retreat on the appearance The l l This information gave a dif- ferent complexion to the affairâ€"- I was again driven to conjec- turesâ€"again fOrced into suspicions of Oceoia. ‘ audingexpeditions against the trans-i Perhaps I bl†half unders’oo‘d his Indian nature; perhaps, after all, he was the monster who had stran the blow. Once more I interrogated my- selfas to his, motiveuâ€"what mo- tive? ' Ha! my sister. Virginia 0 God! could loveâ€"passion ‘The lndyens! Indyens ! Indyens !’ FALSE ALARM. The significant phrase at, once put a period to my reflections.»- IBelieying the savages to be in sight, Ifspurred towards the front. Suddenly v-and Simultaneously the horsemenmhad drawn bridle and halted. A few who had been Strag~ gling from the path now hurried up and ranged themselves closer to the main body, as if for protection. Others who had been riding care- lessly in the advance were seen galloping back. It was from these |last the cry of ‘ lndyens’ had come, and several of them still continued to repeat it. ‘lndyuns?’ cried Hickman, in: terrogatively, land with an air, of incredulity ; ‘ whar did ye see ’em 2’ ‘Yonder,’ responded one of the retreating horsemenâ€"Jib yon clump o’ livegpaks. It’s full 0’ them.’ ‘1’†be dog-goned if I b’lievg it,’ rejoined the old hunter with a'cont'emptuous toss of the head, 91’†.lay' a plug. 9’ v Jeemes’s river, it War stumps you seed! Indyuns don’t shew ’ernselves in timmer like this hyarâ€"’specially to such verdunts as you. Y’ull hear ’em afore you see ’em, I kalklate,’ “Butwe heard them,’ replied one; "we heard them calling out to one another.’ " ‘Bah l’ exclaimed the hunter; l so long ?â€"would scarcely have re- dwelling of one of the four men he had sworn to kill? our patience; for the two pion- Illi‘S ofitself was the mostimproba- eers were scarcely out of sight, l .added, N. KING. AND WHITCHURCH ADVERTIS ER... TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. N0. 44. gone the Indyur’s thar. ’Twara coon or a cattiird ye’ve heern lscreamin’, I kiow’d ye’d make .a scamper the fus; thing as, flittered afore ye. ' ‘Stay whar, yez are now,’ con- tinued he, in a tone of authority â€"â€"‘jest stay whar yez are a bit.’ So saying, he slipped down from his saddle, and commenced hitch- his bridle to a branch. ‘Come, Jim VVeatherford,’ be addressing himself to his hunter-comrade. ‘you come along â€"â€"we’ll see whether it be Indyuns or stumps thet’s gin these fellers ideal sech a clog-goned scare.’ Weatherford, anticipating the request, had already dropped to the ground; and the two, having secured their horses, rifle in hand, slunk silently off into the bushes. The rest of the party, now ga- thered closely together, sat still in their saddles to await the result. There was bqt slight trial of when we heard their voices ringing together in loud peals of laughter. This encouraged us to advance. Where there was so much mer- rirnent, there could be but little danger; and without waiting for the return of the scouts, we rode forward, directing our course by their continued cachinnations. . An opening brought both of them in view. Weatherford was gazing downwards, as if examining some tracks; while Hickman, who saw us coming pp, stood with ex- tended arm poiittiiig to some strag- gling woods that lay beyond. we cast our eyes in the direczé lion indicated: we observed a number of butt-wild horned cattle, that, startled by the trampling ofl our troop, were scampering elf through the woods, ‘ Now! cried the hunter tri- umphantly, ‘ that’s yur Indyunsl Ain’t they a savage consarn? Ha, ha, ha 1’ Every one joined in the laugh, except those who had given the false alarm. ‘I know’d thar war no In- dyuns,’ continued the alligator- hunter, ‘that ain’t the way they’ll make thar appearance. Y’ull hear ’em afore you sees ’em; an’ jest one word 0’ device to you green: horns, as don’t know a red Indyun from a red cow: let someb’dy, as diz know, go in the devance, an’ the rest 0’ ye keep well thegither ; or I’ll stake high on’t thet some 0’ yez’ll sleep the night ’ithout . bar on _ yui' heads.’ All acknowledged that Hickman’s advice was sage and sound,â€" The him was taken; and leav- ing the two hunters henceforth to lead the pursuit, the rest drew more closely together, and followed them along the trail. It was evident the marauders could not be far in advance of us; this we knew from the hour at which they had been seen retreating from the settlements-~â€" After my arrival on the plantation, no time had been lostâ€"rouly ten minutes spent in preparationsâ€" and altogether there was scarcely an hour’sdifference between the times of our starting. The fresh trail conï¬rmed the factâ€"they could not be a league ahead of us, unless they had ridden faster than we , but that would have been impossible, encumbered as they were with their black captives. whose large tracksâ€"here and there distinctly perceptibleâ€"showed that they were marching afoot. Of course their captors would be detained in getting these forward; and in this, lay the chant-es of overtuning them.‘ , There Were but few who fear-. ed for the result, should we be able to come up with the enemy.---‘ The white men were full of wrath and revenge; and this precluded all then his of fear. Besides, we could tel by their trail that the In- dians scarcely outnumbered us.--- Not above ï¬fty appeared to con- stitute the band, No doubt they were able warriors, and our equals man to man; hut those who had volunteered to assist me were also of the ‘true grit’â€"-the best man of the settlement for sucha pur- pose. No one talked of going back; all declared their readiness to follow the murderers even to the heart of the Indian territory, even into the ‘ cove ’ itself. The devotion of these men cheerâ€" 0 l ‘you’ll hear them diff’rent from ed me; and I rode forward with that, I guess, when you git: lighter heartâ€"lighter with the pros- ,affected differently by the new It’ll be the crackin’ poet of vengeance, which I believed Dog- to be near. ‘ A ‘sPLIT TRAIL.’ . It was not so near as we an- ticipated- Pressing forward fast as our half the distance, The Indians either knew that with their wonted craft, were marching rapidly, under suspicion of pursuit. After the committal of such hor- rid atrocities, it was natpral for them to suppose they should be pur- we were after them, or, sued. Evidently they were progressing as fast as weâ€"ethough no faster. Though the sun was broiling hot, sap still oozed from the boughs they had accidentally broken â€"â€"the mud turned up by their horses’ hoofs, as the guides, ex- pressed it, had not yet *crusted over,’ and the crushed herbage was wet with its own sap, and still procumbent, ‘Jest half a hour ahead,’ re- marked old Hickman, as he rose erect after examining the tracks, for the twentieth time--‘jest half a hour-â€"dog darn ’eml I never know’d red-skins to travel so fast afore. Thar a streaking it like a gang 0’ sacred bucks, an’ jest ’bout now thar clouts are in a putty cont s:d’able sweat, an’ some 0’ tharduds is stannin’ at an angle 0' fortyoï¬ve, I reckon.’ A peal of laughter was the re- ply to this sally of the guide, ‘Not so loud, fellersâ€"not so loud,’ said he, interrupting the laughter by an] earnest wave of his hand. ‘By Jeroozalim, th’ull hear ye; an’if they do, th’uli be some 0’ us ’ithout Scalps afore sun- down. For. your lives. keep still as micerr-not a word, or we’ll be heern : lhzll‘ as sharp-cared as thar own wolf-dogs; an’ darn me if I b’lieve thar more’n half a mile ahead 0’ us.’ , , The guide once more ' bent himself over the trail; and after a short reconnaissance of the tracks, repeated his last words with more emphasis. No, by i not more’in half a mile. Hush, boys; keep as quiet as ’possums, an’ I promise ye we’ll tree the varmints in less'n a hour, Hush l’ Obedient to the injunctions, we rode forward, as silently as it was possible for us to proceed on horSeback. We strove to guile our horses along the softer borders of the path, to prevent the thumping of their hoofs. No one spoke above a whisper; and even then there was but little conversation, as each was earnestly gazing for- ward. expecting every instant to see the bronzed savages moving be- fore us. ' - V In this way we proceeded for another half mile, without seeing aught of the enemy except their tracks. . A new object, however, now came in view-the clear sky shin- ning through the trunks of the trees. We were all woodsmen enough to know that this indicated an ‘ opening’ in the forest. Most of my companions ex- pressed pleasure at the sight.--- We had now been riding a long way through the sombre woods, our path often obstructed by llianes and fallen legs, so that a slow pace had been unavoidable. They ’beâ€" lieved that in the open ground we should move faster, and have a bet- ter chance of sighting the pursued. Some of the older hands, and especially the tWo guides, were appearance. Hickman at gave expression. to his chagrin. ‘ Cuss the clarin,’ he.exc-laimed ; ‘it are a savanner, an’ a .big on too. Dog-gone the thipg, it’ll spoil all.’ ‘ How?’ I inquired. ( To be continued.) once A New York merchantile house held gr) unsetled claim of long standing agaipst alame dnck ‘out VVest3’ and hearing be was becoming ‘ Well-to-do,’ sent their claim on to a Western lawyer to collect. ' in due time they received a reply, which effectually ‘laid’ any hope they might have entertained of receiving their money. It ran in this wise: ‘ ‘ GENTS You will never get an spondulies from Bill Johnson. The under- signed called upon him yesterday, and found him with nary tile; his feet upon the naked earth ; and not clothes enough upon him to wad at gun.†’ 'as guides could lead us, we followed the trial for ten miles-u We had hoped to find "revenge at IS THE RACE EXTINCT? A QUESTION TO BE ASKED. How’s Mother-in-law this mornin,’ enquireer. Wheller the younger? ‘ Queer, Sammy, queer,’ replied the elder. Mr. Wheller. with ill’lpl‘CSSlVE gravity. She’s been gettin’ rayther in the serious order lately, Sammy, and she’s uncommbnly pious, to be sure. She’s too good a creatur’ for me, Sammyâ€"I feel I don’t deser‘Ve ber.’ ‘ Ah,’ said Mr. Samuel, ‘ that’s very self-denyin’ 0’ you.’ ‘ Wery,’ replied his Parent, with a sigh. "She’s got hold 0’ some in- vention for grown-up people being born againâ€"the new birth, I thinks, they calls it. Ishould very much like to see ' that system in haction Sammy. I should very much like to see your Mother-in law born again. Wouldn’t I put her out to nurse !’ ‘ What do you think them women does to’ther day, what do you think they does?’ Don’t know, replied Sam, what? ‘Goes and gets up a great teaudrink- in’ for a feller, they calls their Strep- herd,’ said Mr. Wheller. ‘I was a standin’ starin’ in, at the pictur’ shop down at our place, wherIsees a little bill about it; ‘tickets half a crown.’ All applications to be made to the Committee; Secretary, Mrs. Wheller. VV'henl got home, there was the com-m'it-tee a sittin’ in our back parâ€" lourâ€"fourteen women! I Wish you could ha’ lieerd ’em Sammy. There they was, a. passin’ resolutions, and wotin’ supplies, and all Sorts 0’ games. Well, what with your Mo- ther-in-law a worrying me to go. and What with my lookin’ for"ard to seein’ some queer starts if I did, I put my name down for a ticket. At six o’clock on Friday evening’ I dresses myself out wery smart, and offI goes with the old ’ooman, and up we walks into a fast floor, where there was tea tl’iings,,,foi' thirty, and a Whele lot 0’ womcngas begins a whisperin’ to one another, and look- in’ at me, as ifthey’d never seen ray- thcr a stout gen’lm’n of eight-and- ï¬fty afore. By-and-by there comes a great bustle down stairs, and a lanky chap with a red nose and White neck-cloth rushes up, and sings out, " Here’s the Shepherd a comin’ to visit his flock,’ and in comes a fat chap in black 'with a great white face, a smilin away like clock-work- Such goin’s on Sammyâ€"‘ The kiss of peace’ says the Shepherd, and then he kissed the women all round, and vein he’d done. the man withthe red nose began. I was just a think- in’ whether I hadn’t better begin tooâ€"-â€"‘speciall_v as there was a very nice lady a sittin’next meâ€"â€"ven in comes the tea and your MOIIICI'i-Ifl' law. At it they went, tooth and nail. Such a precious loud hymn, Sammy, while the tea was a brew- in’; such a grace! such earin’ and drinkin’. I. wish you could ha’ seen the Shepherd walkin’ into ham and mufï¬ns. I never see such a chap to eat'and drinkâ€"never. The red- nosed man warn’t by no means the sort of person you’d like to grub by contract, but he was nothin’ to the Shepherd. Well arter the tea was over, they sang another hymn, and then the Shepherd began to preach ; and very well he did it coa.‘ siderin’ how heavy them muffins must lied on his chest. Presently he pulls up all of a sud- den, and hollers out, ' Where is the sinner? Where is the mis’rable sin- ner, upon which all the women look- ed at me, and began to groan as if they was a dyin.’ I thought it was raytlier sing’lar, but, hows’ever, I says nothing. Presently, he pulls up again, and lookin’ wery hard at me, says, where is the mis-rable sin- ner? Where is the mis’rable sinner? and all the women groans again, ten times louder than afore. 1 got ray- ther savage at this, so I takes a‘step or two for-ard, and says, ‘my friend says I. did you apply that ’ei-e obser+ wation to me? ‘Stead of beggiii’ my pardon, as any gen’lm’n would ha’ done, he got more abusive, than ever; called tne a Wessel, Sammy 7â€".a Wessel- of wrath and all sorts 0’ names. So my blood being reg’larly up, I ï¬rst gave him two or three for himself, two or three more to hand ovento the man with the redâ€" nose, and walked oï¬â€œ. I wish you could ha’ iheerd how the women screamed. Sammy, ven they picked tip the, Shepherd from under the ra- ble’-â€"__Here Mr. Wheller senior w:.s seized with a paroxysm of chuckles, which gradually terminated, in as near an approach to a choke, as an elderly can, with safety sustain, (Sec. 7Diclten3._ ' ' ‘ " l “ ' EAR’IIY' "ritrrnmitctoa rins- ANiitiALs. j v k».\ ’v‘.. " From the American .t. i." Agr'icultu j H The philosophy of increase of fat; in animals is, tliat,»'th’r.digested food†not needed to supply waste in the system. is laid up in ’the form of fat around the muscles, ready to be ab- ‘ sorbed again into the circulation if need. WaSte isin'duced by exercise or use ofth'e muscles, andalso by combustionlin the lungs, Of them"? L iâ€" i '.’ 3'} rist. . gested food, to supply animal heat. Hence, the Same amount of food given in warm"Weather will,.if di-ii jgested, afford a greater surplus of fat than when fed in Cold weather. ' . Hogs or other animals intended for ' fattening ‘shouldl’be shut up this 'month. Many advocate making the size of the fattening pen sofsmalI that the animal will have justgroom to stand or lie. While conï¬nement favors rest and a disposition to fat- ten,too‘ close quarters are not healthy ‘. ,5 for the animal, which needs modere ate exercise to promote digestion. ' The quality ot the flesh produced must be somewhat impairedby any conï¬nvment that interferes with the. health The appetite may be kept .. up by change of. food, a freqhent suppli of green vegetables, such as corn, cabbage leaves, pea vines, and v the reuse of the garden." Cooked food digests much moreeasily than raw, and is in a condition to yield more neurishment, and is also better relished ’ most kinds of stock. Cleanliness n the fattening pens should not be, overlooked. Al- though pigs psoverbially are ï¬lthy, . they are not really so ; they: do not , delight in the efl‘luvia of their own droppings. as any one can see by no» ticing that they generally appro- priate one portion of the pen to ï¬lth. An occasional washing and scrubâ€" ing with soap-suds will cenduce‘ much to their thriftâ€"all animals keep in condition more easily when the skin is kept clean and healthy. ' DARK STABLES.. It cannot be doubted that light ex- ercises a very important influence upon animal as well as upon vegeta- ble economy. Every onc’s- feelings bearwitness to the stimulus aflorded v by its agency ’; a dark day or a dark room induces lassitude and repose, which is quickly dissipated by the bright sunshine. ' Many diseases are" much more virulent in shaded situa- tions; and the eye especially can. not long retainits full power if de- prived oflight. From mistaken ne'- tions on this subject, or from false economy, it is a general practice to exclude light from the stables of horses and other animals. It issup- posed by many that they Illl‘lVC best in the dark. , Where the animal is stabled for a brief period of rest, V darkness Will undoubtedly favor his repose. In. the Season when flies are troublesome it may also be well f to darken the Stable to exclude them, but when animals are stabled per- , manen‘dy in darkness, they can not but suffer in Various ways. The horse, especially, is very much sub- ject to diseases of the eye,rand there can be but little doubt that this ten- . dency'is increased by confining him ' permanently where the eye, in wak- ing hours, is straii'i'edto an unnatural position to perceive objects-around him. Ho‘rsejockeys ï¬nd an advan- ' rage in the use of such stables. The animal being brought into the glare of day is confused and startled, and by his highstepping and half-uncer- tain manner impresses a novice with an idea of, his spirit and action. Even jithhe quietinduced by dark- ness may favor increase of fat, it is not conductive to muscular strength. Muscles deprived of thestimulus of light, become flaccid, and the apparâ€" ently high condition induced by this means is soon lost by- active exer- tion. Men whose employments con- fine them to poorly lighted apart- ’_ merits soon lose the colour and the ' energy of full health, and the same results follow similar treatment of ‘ animals. Besides this. a dark stable will seldom be kept in that cleanly Condition which - favors full health. - The “corners†will be neglected, especially if the care of animals be entrusted to the “helps, †who are usually content ifthe†stable looks, nice. When building stables, ample provision for light will cost but little more than imperfect ï¬xtures, and in the end will be found more profitable. 'WHA'T A G'ENTLEMAN MAY D0, AND WHAT HE MAY NOT Do.â€"He may carry a brace of partridges, but not a leg ofmut-_ ton. ’ He may be seen in the omnibus-box at the opera, but “not on the box of an, omnibus. He may be seen in a stall in-r _ side a theatre, but not in a stall outside, one. He may dust anothar person’sjacka et, but mustn’t brush his own. Henley kill a man ina duel, but he mustn’t eat, peas with his knife. He may tbrasba coallieaver, but he mustn’t ask twice for soup. must pay his debts of honour, but he needn’t» trouble himself about his tradesman’s bills. He may do anything, or anybody, in factiwithin the range ofa gentlemanâ€"~go through the Insolvent Debtors’ Court, or turn billiardâ€"marker; but he must never On any account carry a brown paper parcel, or appear in, the streets withouta pair of glovesâ€"erotica Talk. ‘ '