rounding surface. The seeds being planted, (and we take pains’tor‘s‘e‘mrr cure good seed,) cover the biliary; with rough boxes, six inches highfi and three feet square, and place over each a frame of glassor milli- nct. This breaks off the col-d wind. and keeps out the little black bug, and with him the stripped jacket.â€" Sometimes, we cover the ground. around each hill with an inch or ‘two of pulverized charcoal, and it absorbs the heat. of the sun’s rays, and makes the plants grow rapidly. .‘The frames should be taken off'duh ing the middle of hot days. When the plants have ï¬lled the boxes, they, (the boxes) can be stored away under cover, and so canbe inches; Yes I Speak to a“ of you: notion to run down; and what made 10‘ laSl for Several yams" she said throwing her eyes around ; would you do, on waking, to ï¬nd We have recently seen vine prolcc~ i you have been pining his wife by all your brain in your head .9 tors, made by tacking mtllmet upon THE WORLD or DREAMS. I I walk in a world that is all my own ; To the cold and selï¬sh alike unknown, My beautiful world. ’Tis a world of thoughtâ€"a world of dreams, Where each eye with the ï¬re of friendship beams. ' Aud'smiles gleam not as a mask to hide The bitter waters of hatred’s tide. VVW ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. /\/\, rs .»\ /\ "Mrâ€"xx \/ TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. In the outer world, though I walk apart. Welcomed by none to their home or their heart In my own bright world. Are those that meet me with outstretched hands. And clasp me in with their glitt’ring hands ; There Hate is banished, and Love alone Queen-like sits on her starry throne. “‘ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.†_._/~ 0. Vol. II. N0. 28. RICHMOND HILL, FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 1860. Whole No. 8 sends me iii-door for the green. Shel len, ‘if it’s true what this strange lyou would soon become so. You says I bring her the blue; and if for i gentleman says, whyâ€"l suppose it , have not been over to Guild since the blue, I bring the green. She sets} is true. But I hope they’ll make ‘ we came home.’ ’Tis a world of dreamsâ€"a world of thought, Where spirit can soar. but flesh enter not This beautiful world : Though a fancied world of glorious-dreams, To me it all real and joyous seems : There smiles gleam not as a mark to hide The bitter waters of hatred’s tide. This beautiful world hath no mortal trod ; Its sun is a gleam from toe glory of God ; In this radiant world. The stars are the smiles of a cherub throne ; Its music the echo of seraph’s song : Their veils are rent, deceit cast aside, And souls united in happiness glide. I NOBLEMEN. The noblest men I know on earth Are men whose hands are brown with toil ; Who, backed by no ancestral graves. llew dgwn the woods and till the soil, And thereby win it pt‘otitlci' fame Than follows king or \savrior’s name. The working men wliato’er their task, To carve the stone or bear the bed, They wear upon their brows The re} al stamp and seal of God 3 And brighter are their drops of sweat Than diamonds in a coronct. it down to inattention, and lectures;something else of me: I know I am; ‘ You make up for it then, for me accordingly] disco-enough at most things. If a you are ‘there often enough,’ she ‘ You could not give us a better man is defiCIent in one line, he may could not help retorting. confirmation thatmy opinion is right, be all the qmcker in another.’ ‘Something or other happens to smiled Dr. Macphcrsou, glancing at ‘ You have given utterance to aftiike me there,’ he returned, seiz- those around him. truism, withoutperhaps knowing it,’,‘ing the poker and knocking the God bless the noble, working men, Who rear the cities of the plain ; “'lio dig the mines, and build the ships, Who drive the commerce of the main. God bless them ! for their swartliy hands lliive wrought the glory of all lands 2 \ ,__.,_i_. W7â€, ,, , 7 ._ .7... 3“. ii ilnii’iiiit. Ad tin iiihmriito Darin WORKED our. Br 'I‘HEWAU'I‘HOR or " ASHLEY.†’ l. Continued. ‘Look lierc,’ said the doctor, on- (lcaroriiig to make the theory plain to him. ‘ You aliow that men are diffcrcnily endowed. One man will have the gift of calculating in an eminent degree, and will go through a whole ledger swiminingly, while his friend by his side labors at a sin- gle column of it: another will pos- sess the organ of music so largely that it will probably make you a sec- ond Mozart, while his own brother can’t tell one tune from another, and could not learn to play if his very life depended on it: one man will draw you, nntaught, plans and build- “ings of wondrous and beautiful de- sign, but another, who has served his stupid apprenticeship to the art, cannot accomplish a pig-sly fit for a civilised pig to lie inâ€"-aud so I might go on, i‘lustrating examples all day. Now, gentlemen, I ask you why should color be an exceptionâ€"I mean the preception, the faculty ofdis- tinguishiiig colorl Believe me it 18 not an exception. A great many people do possess it in fact, the greater portion do, but there are numbers who do not.’ The colonel laughed still. And you think that I and Mr. Jupp do not? , ‘Pardon me,’ said the professor, laughing also, ‘I never said you both did not: had that been the case you probably would not have been in opposition to each other. But I have been using my own eyes Since we stood here, and I see which of ï¬'ou has the defect. One of you possesses the organ of color (as we call it) in a full degree; the other does not possess it at all. It lies here.’ Dr. Macpherson raised his fingers to his eygebrow and pointed out a spot near its middle. The colonel and Oliver Jupp immediately passed their fingers over their eyebrows, somewhat after the manner of a curious child. Oliver’s eyebrows were prominent; the colonel's re- markably flat. » “You can testify by experiment whether .I speak right or wrong, Colonel West; but Igive it as my opinion that you are not able to dis- tinguish colors.’ i For some moments the colonel could not ï¬nd his tongue. 'I never heard of such a thing in all my life l’ cried he. ‘ Do you mean to say that I can see the blue sky’ (turning his face upwards), ‘and not know it’s blue 'l’ ‘ You know it is blue, and call it blue, because you have heard it so called all your lile,’ returned the unâ€" “ daunted professor. ‘ But, if half the sky were blue, and half green, you would not be able to say which was the green half and which the blue.†‘That caps my wife,’ said the col- onel,‘gOOdâ€"humorely. ‘She has a blue parasol and a green one; if she ‘ But may I ask what you have set it dOWn to 7’ ‘ ll Not to anything. troubled me.’ largcucss of some other gift. Never hands. ‘ \Vhat you acknowledge is will want cii'iployiiiciit. because you so true to nature, colonel ! Those are found not suited to the one they who, like you, are affected with color placed you on. blindness, can rarely be brought to ‘ About the worst they couldhave believe in their own defect. It is a given him,’ remarked Oliver .Iupp, fact, that thcgreater portion of them as he walked away With the doctor. are not conscious of it: they really An engine driver ought, of all don’t know that they cannot distin- people, to be able to distinguish col- guish colors; or if they have an idea Ours.’ . ihiit they may not be so quick in There are some of our engine ‘ that particular as some, they do not drivers who do not, though, replied . . l . .' s s ‘ 1 think of questioning the cause: to the doctox, lowering his.vou.e. Sc- usc your own cxprcssion,it does not veral of our worst acuidcnts have trouble them. I understand that you occurred from this very fact l . . - ’ . 7 maintain that, on the night of the ‘Do you-think sol accident the same light was up, green ‘I know it. It l8 :1 more frequent wh; h (rcncl'allv 15 up] defect than would be thought, in this t \‘cg,’ rcpiidd the colonel, absence of the organ of color, but it ‘Now 1 will ten you how to ac- is one that hitherto no one'has given count for that. it was not so much «'HIY allelllIOD 10; it SUbJCCl that, that you could be sure the green l glit With some, excnes ridicule. A com- was up, as that you could not dis- puny engaginu all engine drivel, linguiin any difference between the WOUld as $00!] lhmli of testing his (mo ypu Sum and [he one you were capacny for eating a gOOLl till-IIICI‘IBS acciistotiicd to see. You could not that ol- being able to distliigutsli discern the difference. 1 say, and Signal lights. Most essentially lit.- thcrcfore you maintained it to be, as cessui'y IS ll. though. thhl drivers, you believed, the same oneâ€"«me present or future, should undergo grccn.’ 1he examiiiaiion.’ ‘ This seems plausible enough, as ' ll SCCI'DS SO_lO me; Salli Oliver, you state it,’ observed the colonel; ‘Ai‘id always Willâ€"alter this nights I ' \ 1 ‘. i , ' but, pray why should it not be my LXPLHant. . . . young friend. .Iupp, who was mis- ‘ And until such examination is taltiiiiéziiirl not l'l’ made general, I should change the The professor shook his head. form 0f the signal lamps,’ remarked am quite sure that this gcnllcman’m the professm‘. ‘ indicating Oliver J'npp_..~ can “ever sate Signal, be one form, and small, be mistaken in colors or in their the red or danger Signal be as CllITCl'~ shades, so long as he retains his eye- em as It can he made. 811d large: 80 sight to see anything; he has [he diflcrcnt that it COUltl not ltlll to ~ ' ‘ g V organ vciy largely developed. lam catch the cy o. I‘Ul, look you, a t» I .I right, colonel,’ he added, nodding. head deï¬cient in the organ of color, ‘ But what do you sav to Cooper, will usually have that of form very the driver 'l’ returned the colonel. much developed :and a driver could ‘lle says it was green: and every- not see the color, he might the body agrees that he would only as- fOI‘m I sort what was true.’ and so save his train. Now, reader, all this is a bit of ‘ What he thought was true,’ cor- HUN), a fact from the past, woven rectcd Dr. Macpherson. l There is into a story for you. And if you little doubt, in my mind, that Coop- don’t choose to believe it, you must er’s case will turn out to be like your CHVll at It. I can tell you, that if 0wn___a fact of color blindness_ ' He you would only search out and mark could not distinguish the difcreuCc in l0? yourscll, you “'Ollld lmd .lhill the light from the ordinary light, color blindness is by no means an and believed it to be the same.’ The strange opinion avowed by Dr. Macpl'iersonâ€"strangc indeed, was it, to the primitive ears of the country placeâ€"obtained weight, and it was determined to test the sight, so far as color went, of COoper. Colonel West good-l'iui‘noredly pro- posed that his own also should be tested. The instant the picfcssor cast his eyes on Cooper’s faceâ€"«who was sent for to Coombe Daltonâ€"he pronounced him to labor under the defect, even in a greater degree than Colonel West. Night came, several colored lamps were provided, and those interested assembled at the station. The pro- fessor was constituted master of the ceremonies, and proceeded to his task, by running. up a light to the signal post. ‘ What is it ?’ asked be, addressing the two who were on trial. ' It’s green,’ said the colonel. -It’s red,’ said Cooper. And there was a general laugh. For the lamp was blue. He next ran up two lamps. ‘ 'What are they’l’ he asked. ‘ There was a dead silence. Neither Cooper 7207' the Colonel could tell. ‘ 1 think they are green and white,’ hazarzled Cooper at length. ‘ And I say they are red and blue,’ cried the Colonel. The}r were white and blue. Then the four lamps were exhib- ited, and the mistakes made by both essayists kept the platform in a roar. The colonel did tell which was white â€"but it was probably more of a guess than a certainty, They could distinguish ‘ a diï¬'erence,’ they said, between two or more colors when exhibited at once, but were unable to state what that difference was. By the time the experiment came to an end, the fact had been fully establish- ed that botli Colonel V’Vest and Mat- thew Cooper labored under the de- fect of color blindness. ‘ ‘ Cooper,’ said Oliver Jupp, in a good natured tone, ' they must never make an engine driver of you again.’ ‘ Well, I don’t know, sir,’ returned Cooper, who seemed very chap-fal- uncommon defect; and that is has existei and does exist in some of the engine drivers. Ill. The winter came on. And how grew Clara Lake? Better? Well she did not seem to grow much bet- ter ; at any rate not well, and the old doctor at Kutterlcy, who had known her constitution since infancy, appeared puzzled. She dressed as in her days of health, and went about the house ;'on fine days would go out for a walk in the sunshine ; but she remained weak and debilit- ated, and could not get rid of her cough And Mr. Lake 2 Oh, he was very well, and chiefly divided his leisure between his wife and Lady Ellis : now at home with the one, now at Guild, saying it must be assumed, soft nothings to the other. Of course he never went for the sake of seeing my lady; certainly not: there was an excuse ever ready. Mrs. Chester had given him this commission, and he mUSt go and re- port to her; or, Mrs. Chester had given him the other; or he went over in escort some of the .Iupps; or, he ha’d'business with his tailor ; for he had fallen into a freak to em- ploy one who lived at Guild; an excuse for taking himself to Guild never failed. What could Clara say or do? could she descend to say to him. You shall not go there !-â€"~ No, she suffered in silence; but it was killing her. ‘ Clara, I have promised to spend- Christmas-day with Pcnelope.’ A sudden rush of colour to her wasth checks, and a response that was faint and low, ‘Have you?’ ‘She would not take a dcnial.â€"â€" You will be able to go 'l’ ‘Igo.’ She shook her head. ‘ My dear, I tell‘you what it is,’ he resumed in a chafed voice.â€" ‘ You will fancy yourself ill, and lie day ’ and say you can’t go out, till it Will mind 0f the lotl lend in your being ill.’ ‘ Do you think I am well l’ ‘You are not strong. interposed the professor, cheerily. Coal. ‘ Be assured that where a defect docs day, Cl It never exist, it is amply made up for by the 3 for us.’ ‘ ‘ No. The professor actually clapped his fear that an intelligent man, like you, i l I i l at home. ‘ You will go on Christmas ara; Penelope is preparing I am not well enoughâ€"- And if I were, I should prefer to be Say no more,’ she added passionately, interrupting what he was about to urge ; ‘you ought not to wish me to go there.’ A long silence. ‘I shall go. must.’ ‘ I can’t get ofl'it.’ She did not speak. ‘ What is to be done, Clara? It will never do for me to spend Christmas day there, and you to spend it at home.’ And he finished the clause by breaking out, half singing, half muttering, into the lines of a popular ditty, that our child- hood was familiar with : I l ‘L'zt the green or| But if replied “ To- marrow is our wedding day, and all the world would stare If Wife should dine at Edmonton, and I should dine at Ware,†‘ What’s to be done, Clara ’l’ She sat with her hands folded before her, and did not immediately answer. If lie could not tell what was to be done, or what ought to be done, she could not. ‘You must do as you think right,’ she said with a slight stress upon the world. ‘I am too unwell to be anywhere but at home On Christmas day. , Mr. Lake went to Guild. Not doing as he thonght right, for his conscience was giving him a sharp twinge or two, but following the bent of his inclination, which urged him into the sunshine of my lady’s smiles. Clara felt worse that morn- ing. but she attended church, and he with her,- he quitting, selon Ics reg/cs, when the service was over, she waiting for the more solemn service that was to follow. When she reached home, it was nearly two o’clock, and my lord was walk- ing about, all impatience, for his train started at two. With a fare- well to his wife, full of paraded af- fection, he took himself off to the station, telling her to mind and eat a good dinner, and to drink his health and her own in champagne. Very considerably astonished was he to find himself burst in upon at Mrs. Chester’s by Mary Anne .Iuppn They had dined, all cosily; and Mrs. Chester’s children, With two,night; it checks perspiration and of the Clapperton girls, who werelspoils rain water for washing pur- guests that day, had retired to anâ€"IPOSCS- other room to make what noise thev '. pleased, leaving Mrs. Chester, my hand-saw, or box their ears with the lady, and Frederick Lake at desert. Sharp edge Of a hulChel- Mary Anne came in without core-.lhell‘ hl‘alh- merry, and out of breath. having run from Guild station, walked up to dOOI‘ Open, With nothing but your him and spoke: ‘ Would you see your wife before I friend, more than an hour at a time. she dicsl’ He rose in consternation; Mrs. Chcstcr rose; she sat still, listened and looked. His very lips were white, as he asked for an explana- tion. it was given in a sharp, ringing manner. One of the servants, had gone in and found l\Irs. Lake ly- “Duh ’l‘tnf’t 03’2’3’0: Siomlilaim'. 1, mg on the floor; Where she had cure I a 1A., Oi. a me in ie fainted, or whether she might have fallen over anything they could not tell, and as they were raising her up, blood issued from her mouth: a vessel on the chest or lungs had given way? The doctor was sumâ€" moned and Elizabeth ran up for Mary Anne Jupp. ‘ Will. you go to her 7.’ asked the young lady of Mr. Lake, as she ï¬nished her recital.â€" 'Or aml to take back word that you will not P’. ‘W'hy do you say that to me l’. he uttered with emotion. ‘ My dear Miss Mary Anne l’ struck in Mrs. Chester in a tone of rcmonstriince. Now Mary Anne Jupp was an exceedingly upright minded, right feeling young woman; her sisters were the same; and they had for a long while past, greatly condemn~ ed what was going ouâ€"tho absurd infatuation subsisting between Fred- erick Lake and Lady Ellis, and his neglect of his wife. had been open to it, if nobody’s else’s had; and Mary Anne in her impulsive way threatened that one she should ‘speak out her That day had come. ‘Why do I say it to you 1’ she in her indignant anger,- you would rouse yoursle and go ‘it is time some one said it to you. out and about, and shake off fancies, Their eyes I l inches: you, Angeline Ellis, with Never shave your Whiskers with .fOUl‘ 'Shal‘lWH-‘il elicits of, say two your false and subtle snares, anda halChet, The best method of leel "1 hâ€"‘llfvlllk lustehed together you, Penelope Chester, with your trimming is to pass a red hot iron at the tops by strips of leather. and complacent winking at sin. He is gently OVer them. The operation 'Spread at the bottom enough to weak and foolishâ€"look at him as he smoothes them regularly, giving the icovel" the hills. These are very stands therein his illness lâ€"but he end of each hair a smooth, cripys would scarcely have been wicked had not you drawn him to it.â€" You wonder thatl can thus speak out’-drowning some interrupting words of Mrs. Chester‘sâ€"J is it right for me to be silent, a hypocri- tical glosser over of crime, when which must meet the approbation of, We trust they Will also be re- . she is dying? man, with an English gentlewo- man’s principles about me, and I folks.†hope some Christian ones: it be- hoves such to speak ‘ You Chester. ‘You have been mad, to allow this conduct in your houseâ€"folly, frivolity, much that is bad going on under your very eyes. Had your brother been a single man, it might have been deemed excusable by some : never by me : for he had a fair young wife, and you deliber- ately set to work to injure hen-â€" You did Penelope Chester . to en- courage ill by winking at it, is the same thing as committing it. I say nothing more to you,’ she added, turningupon Lady Ellis with inef-_ fable scorn: ‘you may remember certain words you said tome re- garding Mr. Lake and his wife, the first afternoon you came here: I did not understand them then, I do now ; and I know, in the first hour of your meeting, you were laying your toils around him to gain his admiration. and sever him from his wife. If you retain a spark of feel- ing, of conscience, the grave of Clara Lake will be as a sharp iron, ever eating into it.’ are mad,’ gasped Mrs. (To be concluded in our next.) a RULES OF HEALTH. Im rimis, never go to bed with your eet sticking out of the win- dow, particularly when its raining or freezing. , More than three pig’s feet, and a half mince pie eaten at midnight will not generally cause the con- sumer to dream of houris, paradises, accommodating bankers and other good things. At least they are not apt to do so. Naler stand in the rain barrel all Never spank your children with a It effects Never stand in the hall with the {he mise or she misc on, talking to a To enlarge the muscles of the arms and legs, climbing up and down the chimney, especially if the house is a four story one, three or four times before breakfast, is a cheap exercise and gives a voracious appetite. Ear-ache in children is a vexa- To tympanum with a gimlet and pour in oil and things. If the child keep it all the way on crying, bore through to the other car. Corns may be easily cured. The most torturing corn can be extir- patcd as follows: Take a sharp knife, find the joint of the toe whereon the corn resides, insert the knife, in the articulation, pry of the toe and throw it away; it will never return again, unless your dog brings it back to you in his mouth. (Patent applied for.) The habit of drinking can be I am a gentlewoâ€" all. ,appearance. KEEP THE BIRTHDAYS. A western exchange makes the following excellent suggestions, ceived with favor by the “old It says :â€" “Keep the birthdays ’ they be- out sometimes.’ long exclusively to, and are trea- cured, by giving the drinker all the they cannot raise melons. sured among the sweetest memories of home. Do not let anything pre- vent some token, be it ever so slight, that it is remembered. Birthdays are great events to children. For one day they feel that they are heroes. The specia, pudding, or cake is made expressly for them , a new jacket; or trowsers with pock- ets, or the first pair of boots are donned; and big brothers and sis- ters sink into insignificance beside “little Charlie,†who is “six to- day,†and is soon “going to be a man.†Mothers, who have half a dozen little ones to care for, are apt to neglect'birthdays ; they come too oftenâ€"sometimes when they are busy, sometimes when they are " nervous ;†but if they only knew how much such souvenirs are cher- ished by their pet Susey, or Harry, years afterwards, when away from the hearthstonc they had none to remind them that they had added another year to the, perhaps weary round of life, or to wish them, in old fashioned phrase, “ many happy returns to their birthday,†they, would never permit any cause to step between them and a mother’s priVilege. IT is A Binsâ€"You want Physicking. You get up in the morning, feeling weary and sore all over, with eyes bloodshot, throat dry and husky, and a general sense of discomfort and dissatisfaction with your selfand the world, and doubt whether you may not have the yellow fever, and are sure you have the blues. .You eat your breakfast, but nothing relishes; you are crusty to the children, flare up on the slightest provocation, and with all the ef- fort you can command, discover that it is impossible to be amiable to wife or baby. You go to work, but ï¬nd it hard; take hold of every thing at the wrong end and make a batch of it. You get vexed and draw your tools and assume a sulky in- difference about everything, relievcd only by an occasional outburst of spleen which would take the shape of an oath it you were not too much of a gentleman to deal in such coin. Looking back over the day you feel ashamed and chagrined, and wish you were somebody else. you fliink it’s incipient lunacy, or diaboli- cal oppression, or latent total depravity just comming to the surface. It isn’t either. It’s a bile. Your liver has been overtasked and is getting slow. it is late with it’s spring work. In fact it’s ‘ bilin’ over,’ and embittering the whole establish- ment. It is not pistols or strychnine, or dismal tracts as to the horrors of the in- fernal regions, that you want. It’s spring medicine. “ Take physio, pump.’ Purge renovate, relieve the ducts, do your spring cleaning; pay up all your small bills, and all the big ones you can; steer clear ofall spirituous mixtures ofwhich you do not know positively tliat'tlie ingredients are harmless; when you can’t speak good naturedly, bite your under lip and keep inum till you can~~and you’ll come out all right. HOW TO RAISE MELONS. _â€"._ From the American Agriculturist. Maiiygersons at the North, espe- cially those ‘who have a stiff and cold soil to deal with, complain that They liquors he wants to drink, all theihave not the time or the means to time. into his head ; the other didn’t . up one morning, and has a universal ‘in the graveyard. to make them into hash and take them, but load a shotgun With them, put the muzzle against your stomach and pull the trigger with your toe. It saves a great deal of disgust to the gullet, and a bad taste in your mouth. Never go to sleep standing on The best way to take pills of veral months. Brandreth’s description, if you have Early in May select a warm spot *twenty ortwenty-ï¬ve totake. isnot in the garden, dig holes four feet We know of two, in our own grow them in hot-beds, and in the experience, who were curedin three open air their plants make only a weeks. One jumped out of a four feeble growth, and produce a few story window, and ran a curb stone half-ripened, puny melons just at the get setting in of frost. Melons at Christmas are hardly curb stone growing out of his head to be desired, and we think they can be had before that time by so- Our why is this: Wide and eighteen inches deep, throwing aside the poorest of the Perhaps , convenient, and can be folded and packed in a small compass to be laid away when not in use. ' The fruiting of the vines may be hastened considerably by nipping ofl‘ the leading branches. Muskmelous produce their fruit at the axils of. the first leaves of the lateral shoots. If the leading branches are allowed to run, these laterals will not push out, until the branches have grown to a considerable length. Pinch off the leaders, then. as soon as they have made three or four leaves: this will give at least a week’s gain of time. And when the bearing shoots have made three or four leaves beyond the fruit, nip them off likewise. A simpler mode than the fore- going, and one that sometimes suc- , ceeds, is to prepare the hills as al- ready mentioned, plant thé seeds, and lay down four bricks flatwise around the hill, and place over the space between a large pane of win- dow glass. When the plants have reached the glass roof, set the bricks on edge, and lay on the glass again. By the time the plants have outgrown their quarters, they will be strong enough to defy the bugs and the open air. Let us not omit to say that man- ure should be placed not only in the hill, but should be spaded into the surface between the hills, to feed the plants when the roots have ex- tended beyond. As to varieties : the Christiana is a ï¬ne early muskmelon ; the Green Citron, Skillman’s Netted, Fine Nutmeg, and Rock melon are good late sorts. Among water melons the Black Spanish and Mountain Sweet are superior sorts. HOW MUCH SEED PER ACRE. This question can be answered only approximately. A table giving a ï¬xed invariable quantity would often mislead for the reasons that quality of soil, method of cultiva- tion, climate and location, all vary the certainty and manner of growt . Where, for any reason, it is difï¬- cult to make seed “take,†it may require an addition of as much as twenty-ï¬ve per cent, or one peck to the bushel. Again, on very rich land, where grain would tiller exu- berantly, it is the practice to dimin- ish the amount sown. With crops like roots, onions, &c., where thin- ning is practicable, it is advisable to sow liberally enough to allow for this. ludividualjudgment must be exercised. The following table re- published from Vol. XIV, in answer to a call from many subscribers, shows the smaller and larger quan- tities usually allowed to the acre. Barley, broadcast, 1% to 2% bush- els; in drills, % to 1% bushels.-â€"- Beans, 2 to 3 bushels. Beets, 3 to 5 lbs. Buckwheat, 1 to 1% bushels.“ Carrots, 2 to 2% lbs. Corn, (Indian) & to 12: bushels; Broom Corn, % to 1% bushels. Flax, for seed, #1: to 1 bus. ; for ï¬ber, 15 to 23; bushels.â€" Grassesâ€"Red Clover, 10 to 16 lbs-; White Clover, 4 to 8 lbs; Blue Grass, (Kentucky) 10 to 16lD8.; Red Top, 12 to 18 quarts ; Orchard grass, 20 to 30 lbs. ; Timothy, (Herds grass) 12 to 18 qts. Hemp, for seed, % tol bushel, for ï¬ber, 1 to 1% bush. Millet. 1 to 1% bushel. Mustard 10 to 20 quarts. Oats, 2 to 4 bus. Onions, 4 to 5 lbs. Pars- neps, 3 to 6 lbs. Peas, in drills, 13: to 1% bush. ; broadcast, 2 to 3% bush., according to the size of seed. Pea-nuts, in ' bills or drills, l to 2 bushels. Rye, in drills, % to 1 bush.; broadcast, l to 2 bush.â€" Turnips, 1% to 2% lbs. Wheat, in drills, % to 1% bush. ; broadcast, 1.1. to 22 bushels. Old bachelor sneer, would like to know what kind of a broom the young woman in the last new novel used, when she swept: back the raven ringlets from her classic brow, e A middleâ€"aged man lately presented himself at the matrimonal alter. The clergyman, having surveyed the man for a. moment, said, “ Pray, friend, I think you bottom soil, bring in coarse sand and have a wife already, living 'l’â€"“ It may some leaf-mold from the woods, and be 50, Sir,’ said he, “ for I have a very a little old manure ; mix all tho- treacherous memory? roughly together, adding about one fourth of good garden soil. There is a man in one of the volunteer EaCh corps so thin, that when the sheriff’s of- hOle, When finiSlled, iS raised from floor is after him he crawls into his rifle, You have been killing her by,y0Ul' head. The brain might takes four to SlX inches above the sur-‘and watches him through the touch-hole.’