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W* “ ‘ furniture. and as soon asthe blossomsbegan to' fall. and thefr’u‘it was fairlyiisct, be- .gan to shower" marries that the powdered lime dust every- -~ morning,~ I while the dew was on. This we” followed up for three weeks,’ all danger Was past. The plums set, . well, grew Well, and the most of- them matured in tip-top: condition, 1' SCARBORO’, YORK, MABKHAM. VAUGHAN, KING, AND VHITCHURCHAnVERTisER. ~ ......,....w. j...,..,...__ Mw'GWW«JVN,.W\N where never a plum grew before. . ' We have ,reity much made 5 TERMS - $1 50 In AdV%PCe. your minds 313i litany men are ,2:’ .slothful to grow ting Very fine mm, It requires ’a little attention every day. early in the morning, before-ii; gm“ m3“)? PCQPlQ 1' 1‘6 "stir. Th‘d. LITERARY NIAitRiAGES.â€"-Are old essential than is, we apprcliend._ in, ~"rv maids’ prejudices against marriages followr up the enemy with slm'mr Al lb" “"90 0f the explosion, on with poets and novelists, and writers practice, and, We think, almost any. would the Gv‘iglll Eastern. a Curlle g¢‘""’"Ҥ'~ bill“ ""3 an." gl'otiuds ol remedy that, inl’lltlgvcs this distufhllll'il .ltil was noticed ; those who were reason? You remember how ‘33“ of the trees, evmy an}! “H, annulus,” LITTLE ,WILLIE WAKING UP. Some have thought that in the drawing. In our being's freshest glow. God is nearer little children Then their parents ever know, And that, if you listen sharply. Better things than you can teach, find a sort of mystic wisdom. Trickles through their careless speech W i‘- Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.” WWW ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. [flow it is I cannot answer. But i knew a child. Who. among the thyme and clover And the beds, was running wild, And he came one summer evening, With his ringlets o’er his eyes. And his hat was torn inpieces. Chasing been and butterflies. RICHMOND iiu.i., iritiiuv, Vol. II. No. 3. DECEMBER 16, 18.59. Whole No. on, promiged Willie, when she came Margaret turned away. thenI Ernest, pointing lo the gay lanccrs A CURIOUS FACT. back. to bring him some bread:- went Lack. \withotit :â€"--_f Vanity of vaiiitics-â€"-ali And how could she meet the we iSir,' she said, boldly, ‘ listcnlis vanity.’ proach of those pleading cyeslâ€"z to me for. a moment. I am thel Intelâ€"awhat do y There Were ladies iii all those daughter till-i clergyman. wtto. inlife?’ she said, with 1' Now I'll go to bed. dear mother, For I'm very tired of play 2” And he said his. “ Now I lay me,“ on know u. a Sétl‘lllily‘ stores, layhiiz down monev with his old age, lost all he had. and abrupttiess. ‘ 'l‘hc rich and the for- most but! and who first died seemed happv was Byron’s t’tittl‘f‘iflge- Shel-7le "Willlchollhc curculloleagls-hm l“ I kind 0" ""10" My smiling indifference - money of ivas‘ reduced from one stage of po- , Itmatt: do not live : they ditctttn.’ the lcast injured when they first ap- ley’s was no better. Milton’s three to stick «'1 qUICt phth 10 deposfl lies And he drank the cooling water From his little silver cup, ,And said gsyly' " When it’s morning. Will the Angels take me up i”- l which one small piece would save , verty to another. till he finally died her from destruction. I in a garrct, tn â€"--.- street. leaving Once or twice, when a faitg‘nie the care of a brother, three sweet woman lop,ch pittingly as years of age. ‘ Of angels.’ said Ulireliugh,-witb neared above deck, and evmi wcrt: marriages were all unhappy. Camp- 82518- This '8 seen "Mlle fact that an expressive look at lel‘gal’Cl.-â€" able to walk aft without assistance. bell was wretched cyery way. she. dropsppon the slicctassoim {its ‘ But since you think me so ignor- On this point a writer to the London What an angelic prtttetit'e Tom the plum *3 Jarred, 0" disturbed. in l have been well, am, shall look it), you for iiistruc. Times say-5 ; ' Moore’s wifc possessed? how often any way. . . . t she passed. her. by, she tried to I even classnrally educated ; but. I tion. You shall teach the what is “A man blown up with gunpow- must her heart have been wrungrby The (sprinkling of lime. or usheu", beg, but the words died on her? have no trade. Icaniiot sew well, life.’. der is a more figure oi raw flesh husband as well as children! Xou or dry iit. upon the trees, alarms- lips, and she shrank back again. and I am not strong enough for Miss which seldom moycs after the ex- knowli‘ow unfortunatclv all turned “1010892019. alld lpads her to seek," blushing scarlet in the shade of her; hard work ; l tank in washing, and blazed, . plosion. Not so with men blown up out. bir Edward Bulwer Lyltop is l{0th It'llfit‘e qmeltp title, fn’t heir (tepid-V old bonner. And the living current‘ain unable to get any pay ; and we .‘ Yul]. had best not ask me, she by steam. who, for a few minutes separated from his Wile. Mrs. l\or- till. he application of wilialefoil roared and surged, and carried herthave not starved, only because God said ; tit Wlll cost you dpar.’ are able to walk about. appare'uil)‘ lf‘m has (100th hb‘r hUShahd- Mrs- 3013?, ,0}: lhe 3’“ l and “me anulff’i artâ€"changing. though, in its r:ha-_lraised us up a friend, in an old .‘l Will [4th the Fish. til'tslvet'ctl unlinrt. tliougli.iii fact, mortally mâ€" hatinv Kemble has fled hers._ Ro- OK‘SUP Ul‘ “alert “COmPhSheS, in, male, when she turned aside ilii().n(‘.g|‘css‘ who lives in the same Clitchugh, gully; “and With your jured beyond all, hope ofrecoveri. gei‘°.l’ope,Macaulay, Huiiie,gibbon. Pill-ls the Samerurpvse It "layup? house. This is mi' last resource. permission. Will come to you in a this was so with one or two. who, all remained baclielorsâ€"n'iostwisely. that lheSC aPPl'CalthS. bOlh dry and. Dom: he sank with reguieh laughter, In his little trundle bed. And the kindly god of slumber. SnoWered the poppies o’er his head, 1‘ What could mean his speaking strangely i" Asked his ruining mother. thenâ€", P O. 'twae nothing but his prattie : What can he of angels ken i’ 1‘, hello”: eyes actually one of the many squalid streets There he lies, how sweet and placid l where dwell the And his breathing comes and goes Like a zephyr movineg softly. And his cheek is like I rose ; Butehe leaned her ear to listen If his breathing could be heard : 2' 0h,” site murmured, “ it the angels Took my darling in his word 1' ’ Night within its folding mantle Hath the sleepers both beguiled. And within its soft embracings, Real the mother and the child; Up she Itartcd from her dreaming. For a sound has struck her ogrâ€" And it comes from little Willie. Lying on his trundle near. Up she epringeth, for it strikes Upon lier troubled ear again. And his breath, in louder fetches, Travels from his lungs in pain. And his eyes are fixing upward On some face beyond the room ; And the blackness of the spoiler From his check hath chased the bloom. Never more his " Now I lay me " Will be said from mother's knee, Never more among the clover ‘Vill he chose the bumble-bee ; Through the night she watched her darling. New despairing. now in hope ; And about the break of morning Did the angels wake htin up. . - *_~.___._....._ [EARNING nit transit. on, nu CHANGES OF' FORTUNE, Four o’clock in Broadway ! Silks and shawls sweeping down to meet broadcloth and beaver coming up; stores crowded; streets jam: med ; side-walks suffocating -' and on the steps of the New York Intel, looking calmly at the waving, sway- ing, hurrying current of human life. not Ernest Clirehugh, only son of .Simon Clirehugh, of the great house .Of Clirehugh 61. Allan. leather dealers. ‘ Ernest was Ichty-tbreeâ€"slep- der and welleformed. with a low. smooth forehead, curling brown hair, handsome blue eyes, and fea- tures of the cold. Grecian tvpeaâ€" su'p'er'bly simply, immaculately well dressed, fastidious in his, toilet. ale.- ~glint in his manners, formed of the pure porcelain, not of common clay. as was the handsome but ungloved hand laid appealingly on his coat ,lleevo. . ‘ Don’t touch me. woman l What do you want 1’ he asked, shaking off the fair, tapering fingers, and look- ing angrily. not at the modest and handsome face of the owner, but at the cotton gown, the faded shawl. and deplorable bonnet, ‘l am your laundrees, Mr, Clire- hugh,’ answered the young girl, ,(t'or she was hardly twenty), crim- soning to the temples. , ‘ am ,eorry to troublehyou; but if you .could only lay me.’ ‘Why on’t you come to, my rooms?’ be interrupted angrily. . '1 am, not accustomed. to pay my debts in the street,’ ' ‘I have been so often. Mr. Clire- hught; and you are always out or enfiged.’ » ‘ nest took out his pocketwbooli. ‘I have no' change. Yon can come to-night and at it." ‘Mr.,Clirehugh. she said, clasp- ing her’han'ls. ‘I have a little bro- ther'ithree years old; he has had nothing to eat 10-day, and lihave eaten nothing since yesterdny morn- ing; we bave,no fire and no clothes. For mercy’s sake, don’t send me back without enough to buv a loaf of bread,’ But Earnest did, not bear hep-a. He ,had joined a richly dressed lady , walkingjup, and had already quite forgotten the existence of the poorgirl, who started. as if to run after him-s-then checking her- eelhturned and crept down Broad- way again. It was a weary pilgrimage.â€" She was faint from hunger, and had lost her lasthope, She had the third of those wliic’h'are sentme-.l lLife on a small scale,’ said 5,01 per. left by her poorâ€"growing noisier, and begrimmed but bearing her on, till she reached the house'â€" if that crumbling, rmtcu shell was worthy of the nameâ€"on whose topmost floor waited patiently for bread, wzis h:r little brother. His eager iook changed to one of grievous disappointment; and his littlt= under-lip quiveretl as he saw that her hands were empty; but he said not a word, for pov- erty makes philosophers even of its babies; not so his sisterâ€"who, catching the child in her arms, flung herself on a bundle of tags in the comer that sewed for a bed, groan- itig and sobbing as she kissed his little curly head, and prayed aloud to die. There was a knock; and before she could answer it. the door opened. Margaret started tip, but sank back again, with a groan. when she saw that ii was only Dinah who lived on the floor below. Way for yel ‘l‘v’iial do you want. Dinah she asked fcel'ily. ° Look up here. young miss. and you’ll see, i you A to-dziv: and thinks l. ill just get it little bl (if lilttt’ll. anti smitt- liltrlld and coffee, and have a little least with young miss up stairs; and so honey, just get up and pat Wllilt: it’s lit'il.’ Margaret burst inlo tears. ‘l'low good you ate! l laid down to die; for l thought every one had forgotten me.‘ "The Lord never forgot you, honey l’ returned the old negrt-ss, solemnly. ‘I-Ie tell me you sick and hungry. and put it in heart to bring you dese. don’t you trust him morel nu Why He sav. he ncber leave vt u nor forsake . v you.’ "lt’s all dark here,’ Margaret. shaking her head. ‘ lf it were not for W'illie, here. l would gladly die. and be buried by my father; forl have no way to live. I have no trade ; and ct'en for what washiitgl can get, I re. ceive no money.’ ' Why don’t you go out to ser. vice?’ ‘I have tried; and one lady told me my hands were too white ; another. that I was not stout enough; a third, that l was too lady-like} ‘lt’a hard honey,’ returned old Dinah, ‘but be sure. that the Lord shuts up all dese Ways ’cause He’s some other road for you to go. What was dat your father used to write so much before he answered died l’ tHe copied papers,’ said, Mar- gurct; but: I can’t do that; I don't write a business hand.i lWell, never mind ; dure’s something for you.’ rejoined t the old negress. gathering- up the scraps of the meat. ‘You and little massa there come down to- night, and we’ll see if we can’t rake up a little supper.’ Margaret sank down on her bed again; but this time there was a ray of hope in her heart. She, could, not copy opera, in- deed _; but could she no write lâ€" When living, in the seclusion of her father’s parsonage, she had passed many happy hours in the exercise of composition. There were pens, ink, and pa- father‘ on his death, She could try at leztst.â€", Death was on one side, dishonor on the otherâ€"she would try. Sate wrote with feverish haste, scarcely reading it, before she sallied ‘out,-â€"'I‘remblingly. she pre- sented. it in the allies of the firstl weekly . journal on which chancedf . It. is quite useless said i notes to read Will to y Without a Word, the extended his hand for the manu- script. ‘This is Well written,’ he said, after reading it tho-ugh attentiVely ; better. If you choose to let me have t. is for three dollars, I will [like it.’ Three dollarsl Why, it was a mine of wealth. Margaret’s hand clutched it with the eagerness of a miser. How short scuttled the walk home! though L‘mk what l brought be rich soon. ' ()llU 3 lknowu the‘dim retreat, through whose .viiie- slie stopped to purchase man) things-«mood, meat, bread, tea. and sugar. How Willie shouted, and old Dinah laughed, as they sat down to supper. :Young miss, its your turn no .v. Didn’t tell ye do Lord liab some Ain‘t dis better dai‘i sltcl'iiii’ or wasliiii’l You down and scrabblts a little, and gets three dollars. not my pav for washing all do time l’ Margaret did tsm‘abble.’ early and l..te-â€"-.â€"uight and morning. desperate ' Willy, you’ll replied Laws! scrabble deeply. NOW. Sh‘, it may take you ten mi- day or two, for my first lesson.’ titauuscripl.â€"â€" you bestow the aims of so Ainslie; much of your time on me or not“! warned youme not reproach me editor afterward.’ ‘As you will,’ replied Miss ‘but remember, I haw: llcr manner was impulsive-7.2+ almost solemn; but Clirehugh. on whom her beauty or rallies an indelinablc fascination of manner, land the author of this can do had madea deepimpression. only counted the hours till he could claim ’ her promises. ‘Iain come to take my lesson,’ was his first salutation. Life has ii‘iziiiy.’ ‘ We will commence on that one headed Love,’ he said, hiring his bold eyes on the calm, handsome “face of his hostess. ‘ ‘Love l" she said suprnfully, l‘why that is the very alphabets? Men go through VVIlll that as they do the whooping-ct’iugh, and chicken- ' pox.’ ° if it is the alphabet, then I Will Sits ‘be a child, and you shall teach inc." ‘lmve is inspired, not taught l' Miss ' Ainslie, Colouring ' Do you speak from egporicncc l’ 'I know (if no l‘itglil‘liy' which yti‘u put the question.‘ returned the tier sketches found favour in authorcss; but if the knowledge the sanctums of more editors than will geattlv you-«Jim’- by degrees, she became as a popular writer. lorsook the miserable bite den ‘Tlicti, wise as yop are, you have not yet learned the alphabet l' ‘I presume.’ said she calmly, Where we first saw her, taking when be had finished. ‘that this is Dinah with “Cr; and steadily, day my first lesson in the primer, is it» by day. she ndVaticcd-aâ€"Wcarily. ’not'l painfully, sometimes; but always upward- chcii years had passed. mean- while, OVcl‘ the liaiidsome head of l‘lrueSt lJlIrebugh, and brought him no change. cxuopt the death of his father whcicby lie upccilud to the control of the great Ulircliugli fortune He was not a marrying man.â€" .\lamma’s marriageablc daughters had discovered that long ago, and Ceased to annoy lpm. int he was an agreeable one; and, as such, ladies introduced him to Wilotlisuevct‘ they delighted to honor, against which introductions he was in the liitliiLof laiiguidly pro- testing aiid yielding. ‘I am going to vir~tiiii'ze you again, Mr. t.lirt.liugh.’ said Mrs. lingers, a lively little lady, one evening. ‘I Want to introduce you to my friend, Miss Aiislie ,. the talented authoress of ‘thu the Dickens did i loose my shoe.’ She is the most charming woman I have ever metâ€"ego much so, that if it were any other man, 1 should my 'gardez pens ’â€"--for. she is as cold'as‘ Uiana.’ ll am at your mercy?’ lan- guidlv returned Ernest; ‘ only you must stand by me. I am afraid of blllfls.’ ‘ ' Mrs. Rogers laughed. and took his arm. ‘ Miss Anslie. Ernest Clirehugh.’ Mr. Clircliugh executed his best bow, and stole a look at lhe authors css‘through his half-closed ey.- lashes. She was a superb woman, of about twenty-fivcâ€"tall, dark, and rosy. with beautiful hair wound round her handsome head, and mag- nificent eyes. . *A beautiful womanl‘ thpnght Ernestâ€"4 and dressed in unexcep- lionable taste. I wonder. what made her start, and blush at the mention of my name?’ ‘lt is very warm. Shall we go into the conservatory l’ said the full. rich voice of the authoress. Mr. Clirehugh gallantly offered my friend, Mr. she ' his arm. and they made their» way‘ through the crowd, to the cool. I editor; ‘we are overrun with ma.-sliaped doors the light came in with nuscripts. l have no time to read softened splendor. ltllii foot. of the class. The alphabet is litiished .l’ Searcon knowing what he said, Clirt:liugh assented. ‘I am obliged,’ she continued. coldly ; ‘ but permit. me. before we go further, to return the favour, by giving you a lesson in :ii'itliiiieti(-,' ()lireltugli started at her in. iifiltlo nishment. And she Went to a biihl cabinet. from one of the drawers of which she took out a small piece of paper. neatly folded, 8le halh-l-‘ll ll to him. He opened it mechanically, it was, a bill, running as follows; H Ernest Clirehugh to Margaret Ainslie. Dn. " For three weeks’ wadllltllz" . .$52 50 Nor received payment." Clirchugh laid down the paper, and looked at her earnestly; and St'llllellllllg iti hcr air as she stood there, remlnded him of lip: young girl whose hand had once rested im- ploriiigly on his arm. ' How blind he had been, \‘Vliat olhei hand had lhose tapering. snowy lingers, and may nails what would he not give if that band could rest there now. ‘ Margaret.’ he said, flushing deeply. ‘ can you forgive me i Be- lieve me I, was thoughtless, not iii- tentionaily cruel l’ ‘I have long ago forgiven you. Mr. Clirehugh,’ she replied calmly : ‘for though your negligence seem-l ed to drive me to despair, yet God overruled it for my benefit. Had I obtained that twenty shillings. l should havo spent my days, perhaps over the wash-tub. Necessity opened for me another door.’ ‘ But you have forgiven me l’ pleaded Clirehugh, and have taught; me a lesson never to be forgotten.â€"â€"; Permit me in returnâ€"J fliiipt'issiblel’ she said quickly.â€" ‘ Â¥ou must take another pupil for the primer; 1 am contented to have learned the alphabet l’ And Clirehugh, in vain. strove to change her resolution. The last time we saw her, she was in the alphabet yctl ‘ Where was John Rogers burnt to ' death .7’ said a teacher to one of his pupils in ii commanding voice. ‘ He couldn't tell. .‘ The next.’ .‘JOshua knows,’ said ills little girl at 5 Well,’ said the teacher, ‘if Joshua 'knows he may tell.’ ‘ In thefire !’ said Joshua, looking very cum and. mse.’ ' ‘ in what chapter lwthe Book of quite unconscious that the flesh of Ullmill‘l'lcd~ as they emerged from below, wvalketlf(,)olei'itlgc left his wife to starve. Wei. have. something 0f Ofl’enl'e in aft with that iitdiscribttble expressiop {Charles Lamb kept out of the noose. lhem. Whlfifh hflSlehS her departure. in tlieirfaccsonly resembling intense Addison married and found consol- but. W9 think. lhe mflln lhlhlt'lnfill; aslonishment; and a certain falter- ation only in the bottle; and by a Curcltlto remedies. hi the disturbing. log of the gait and movements like strange coincidence, Lord Stowell oi the. trees, and making the quarters one who walks in his sleep. Where (so closely resembling Addison in Of lhe enemy 100 hot for him. not begrimed by the smoke crashes, many particulars) lived happily until At any T810, the lime did the work, the peculiar bright, soft whiteness oi late in life he married a lady bearinglh’l‘ Oh" h‘llle lOl‘m?nl3i and W0 hall? the facp. hands or breast, told at the title as the same woman who 28¢th plums 'Wllll ‘tts much satie-' once that the skin. though unbroken, poisoned Addison’s last years. Swift hl‘Clth 9,9 ll lhe)’ had been hhgg‘cts‘.) bail, in fact, been boiled by the never married. Bolingbroke quar- Cl ngllf, l‘tobody but smart people. steam. One man walked alongr with relied and parted with his Wife. can Etna?! 10 ea! plums raised on it this movement and his look lliave Neither Pitt nor Fox Were ever Sallle 0!” gravelly SOil. Getabarrel‘ endeavorded todcscribe’, and seemed married. Washington Irving was 0f ’lmc’.thls Fall, lake 0m 0“3 head. Both of Sheridan’s and let it stand in any dry place, un- his thighs (most probably by the mariages were.’ unhappy. Shakes- l,” “9“ Spring: and "3 Will be ready ashes l” the furnace] was burnt in peare’s will is supposed to exhibit l0? 0303 deep holes. To some one who came evidence of an unhappy marriage. to his assistancia. he said quickly: ‘l an all right, there are ottiers worse than me ; go look after tlicm.’ The poor maxi Was the first to die. He expired quietly as if falling into a refreshing sleep.’-â€"Scienti to flirt- €1°1C117L .m ..._.._....â€"-..._.__;. CURING,‘SMOKING AND KEEPING HAMS. Tris Minacn OF linensâ€"'l‘he child's eyes are enchanted. bul he does not know it, and he believes-in all he sees. Ho lines not doubt the rlimmci' and the riot of the scenes , _ _ , flittl lie before hiuii file gazes down Formerly I ,l’led "eepmg hall“ the “Sm of “re. and c‘very PM“, and shoulders to salt, and also in them seems to his ardent sight as a firm” but they wou’d .d’sso’ve ’he', Na. and Meagan, wing. A“ ",6 salt or mould in the grain. I then prismatic views that appear to flash med kiiepmg them m pfmnded Char‘. mm“ his forward pa”, he ,hinks coal With no better eflect. Inext, A litos'r i'.t,LU.tni.i~: AND SEASONABLE; ARTICLE. Picoiiinaou 'ro MEQCA.â€"A rc- ccut publication of the Ministry of Algeria and the Colonies make some curious statci‘nents relating to the pilgrimages to Mecca during the present year. The ceremonies at Mecca terminated 0n the lltb of October, in the presence of about 50.000 pilgrims, of whom 17.850 had come by sea, and 32,000 by bind. in 1858 there Wcrc |§0,QUQ pil- grims; in l§§7, ilQ,QtlQ; and iii lust}, l2tl,0tltl. This great de~ crease in the number in lbi’it), is qw- iiig, the natives declare, to the events of Djeddiili last year, and also to the dread of the cholera, which made esteiisiye ravages in 1858. As soon as the pilgrim sets foot on the sacred soil of Mecca he must put on iwo pieces of white cloth. one tied round the loins with ciids hanging down to the middle of the leg, while the other is thrownlm“.age of ,he desert over the shoulders so as to leave the {bum is afterwards no right arm true. He must go bare chmnmcm. headed and Wear sandals. As long as he Wears this garment he is bound' to lead a pure and regular life. At Mecca he begins the ceremonies un- are really lighting it, and that he shall touched "and beautifiod by their radiance when once he iS'there. No wonder that the child is in haste to get on. There is every thing to lure him-e-freedom, plenty, sweet gardens. flowing fountains, noble forms, smiling faces, and beckoning hands. He sees the waving of palms and the glitter of jewels ; he hears the voice“ of trumpet and of harp. And on he rushes. breath- may. to the end of childhood, through youth, and into manhood, before he becomes fully aware that the shape. complexion and inciti of his phantoms have all been rapidly changing. and that what he t0ok for true worth and beauty is. in reality, no better than n raree-ehow, Or a For him more en- A HAPPY llousniioan â€"â€"~'l‘herc is nothing on earth so beautiful as the household on which Christian love “8" the dll'b‘Cll‘lll Ufa llU-(le- The) ifor ever smiles, and where religion “"0 “5 ll’llllws ,1“lv Y‘Slllhll ll“? walks. a counsellor and a friend. “WWI” “"d will"?! 50%“ “0‘65 “wild l No Cloud can darken it. for its twin- lhe Katalin, Starting from the Black slurs M. centred in the soup NO bit-"Wt WhlUl‘ ll,” lllUSl lélbfs 0" lUU‘ih storms can make it tremble. for it “0 ‘TUllll’lb’lllléi cu?“ ‘Cll‘l-‘Ull- has a heavenly support and :1 Drinking the, water til the well of heavenly anchor. ' Zcm zero, at which says traditii.iii., a â€"â€"~â€"~â€"‘~â€"â€"-â€"-â€"â€"â€"-â€"- Hagar and lshniacl quenched their 5ARDlNhS~":"1’h“re’” ".0 “llml’llg “b‘ml “H”,- 3. pmymg a, me Sumo” these sardines, saiti Brown.aslie helped pf Abraham, marked by a stone, on ’"mse’r ‘0 lb" tlll'rd Itlalt’h'l fl'om, ‘l which he is said to have stood when "my!" open” box; “they are H"? “(mime he went to sacrifice his son. 4.t$to' “fuele’ and “um-.3“ the “If”, "in" the ~ _- ‘. . P Mediteranean.”-“l es.” replied his econ- pmg and praying at lat Madjen. tliet spot where Solomon stood to see 'omical wife. “Yes, and if you will only con trol your appetite tlieygwill go a great deal mortar mixed for building the tem- farther,” pie. 5. Running seven times be- â€"_ Goon BUTTER lN Wiiv'rnn.â€"â€"-Mrs. H. wishes to send you the following method for'making butter in winter. tween MountsSafa and Merwa. in commemoration of llagar’s anxious search for water for herself and her . son. ,6. Repairing on the 91h day yellow, and containing as pleasant of the month to Mount Ararat, about flavor as in May or June. Grate twplvo miles from Mecca, lifter carrots. [the deepest orange color.] morningprayer. Mahommedqn tray ed before they are smoked. following is my method. and l have often been asked how I could keep theiii through the summer and have them of so fine a flavor : tried dry ashes. but unless thehami were very dry when put up they. would taste ofthe ashes. lthen tried sewing them up in a coarse; cloth and white washing them seven, al times over, as i had seen them in; that (rendition in market; but they: did not keep wellâ€"«would eithcn. rnonld or the lime would crack and the flies get in. - ' For a number of years I have; adopted a new method and never failed to keep them sweet and free, from mould or flies. I prepare a sack for each ham. A yard square of good sheeting is sufficient for a good sized ham. are smoked. and before any files have infected them. I put them up. one in a sack. cut it [in ti cutting-box] inch long and fill in the sack- and. around the ham, so that the ham” cannot touch :he bag. around the open end and hang them: up in the smokehouse or some cool," dry place. and they can be kept any length of time; the bag and hay will keep away the flies and allow the moisture to escape so that they, will not mould. ' After the bums «A. ltake sweet hay and about one, Tie a cord Hams should be always. well our The RECEIPE Fort CURING HAMS.-- To one gallon of water take one and half pounds of good salt. one half pound sugar, and an ounce of salt- pctreâ€"to be inCreaSed in this ratio to any quantity required to cover. the hams. As soon as your pork iii cold cut out your hams and peak them closely in your cask. each layer lightly with fine saltâ€"Fe put on a Weight and pour on the brine immediately, and before the sift through asieve, mix in a little juice of the ham has escaped- 1t Sprinkle dition says that on this bill Adamimilk, [water 'will answer.] and put will require from four to six weeks built a temple and Maliomet per? formed his devotions. 7. On the following day, the pilgrims all go in a body to the Valley of Monua and more sacrifice propitialory victims 5 they also cut their hair and nails, devotedly burying the portions cut off. And remaining two days at Molina, they again visit the temple of Mecca, and then prepare for their derailme- the great difi'crencc it makes with the butter. Scores of her neighbors have tendered her their sincere thanks for the information. HOW WE GOT OUR FIRST CROP OF PLUMS. ' It was upon a loose gravel, where that slippery rascal, the curculio, re- - lvels. sweeping every thing before ‘ lip not afraid of a barrel of cyder,’l him. as clean as the locusts of Egypt. said a IOPP-t‘ 10 1‘ temperance man- The varieties were GreenGage, and ‘I presume not,’ was the reply, from imperial Gage, young vigorous trees your “l’lll’lll'anfl 1 3.985? a harm or cider but old enough to have borne fruit "mild "m at Your al'lWWM” three years They had blos- somed and get fruit, several years, but not a specimen had escaped the fatal incision of the little Turk. Last Spring we determined upon a vigorous warfare with the enemy, resolved, that if he got the fruit this The Editor of the ‘ \Vring and Twist,’ says he has seen the contrivgnce which our lawyers use when they ‘ warm up which a subject.’ He inciely says it is a glass concern and holds near a pint. into the cream when you commence for lhc'salt to strike through, accord- churning. You will be Surprised at log to the stzo of the ham. It will be necessary perhaps to add a little salt on the top of the hams; some- times-if thev are very large they ab. sorb so much of the salt as to leave the brine so Weak it may sour. It weiild‘ be Well to take them up after they have been in a week or two and examine them, and if necessary, add a little more sn’lt.‘ Great care should be taken not to salt too much as by doing 80 you lose the flavorof- the ham. but just enough should be used to keep them. As the barn- absorbs the salt from'the brine it should be fed by adding a little salt on the top and the bums should bé well struck through. When the bums are lar.e l takeout the flat bone and en; ofi’thc round socket bone will a chisel. leaving always tbclarge lone. With carelnet‘ct‘ have failed to keep ham circa-l. ‘