The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

r, . ..-..J~ ~“’ " -. 7 It came». J, “m. Spam H... CHARITY. In the hour of keenest sorrowâ€"â€" In the hour of deepest woe-- \Vait net for the coming inorrow, To the sad and seriowing go. Make it thy sincerest pleasure To administer relief; Freely opening thy treasure 'I‘o assuage thy brother’s grief. ' Go and see the orphan sighing~ Seek the widow iii her tears, And, on mct'cy’s pinions flying. Go dispel their darkest fears. See It the stranger sad and weary, Pass not on the other side, Though the task be sad and dreary, Ileeding not the scorn of pride. Go, with manners unassuming, In a meek and quiet wayâ€"â€"- O’er the Father ne’er presuming, Though thy brother sadly stray; ’Tis a Saviour’s kind compassion, "l‘is Ills righteousness alone. All untnerited salvation. 'I'liat around thy path hath shone. Vt’hen thy heart is warmly glowing \Vith the sacred love of prayer, 3e thy works of kindness flowing, Not as with a iniser’s care. Ditty o’er should be thy \vatchwordâ€" I’ity drop the balmy tear; Always toWards the fallen chetisli, Sympathy and love sincere. 11 ’ii'tiltiu. at i taint AND WHAT IT GAINED ME. DY FAI‘IIVIE S'l'l‘.\’l<‘..’\'S BRUCE. II was born atid reared iii the city. IlIy catlicst t‘ncmorics arc of stone and I‘lle' and mortar; dusty streets and narrow courts; bits of open space, known, by way of compliâ€" ment,l Suppose, as ‘parks,’ and a ‘coininon,’ which is our young ‘ Athens” greatest pride; but never of ancient orcliads, or meadows asleep in the .Iunc radiance, or ditn forests stretching away towards purple sunsets. Ilad I been the child of common parents my lllC'n- orics might bc cvcn darkcr than they are; but It‘ntc willed other- wise. I do not always fch to thank It’atc lâ€"â€"by making me the yotntgcst daughter of a iititlionaire banker and a ‘born lady’ tnothcr;-â€"so, as far as golden blessings arc cott- -cvr:.crticd, l had no reason to gloom or complain. Our family stood high in thc ‘ bcau mondc.’ ftly fathcr uas acknow- lcdgcd “king’i i change; tnammn as l of tnc ‘ton.’ My only; brother, Ford. one of tho-:cvchl wonders of the day. and my two sisters. who were considerably my senior. Geraldine and llcloisc, as‘ miniature nugclsâ€"~or, rather, Indies. (A term more likely to be under- stood than the formcr could hope to be.) Thus born and thus connected, one would n.1tuiallv suppose that I must have been as near perfection as live-hundred page-novclcttc hcâ€" roincs arc. expected to be; but truth oblich me to confess that l was nothing of the sort; nothing, in brief. but a very matter-of-fact sort of child, with a passable-looking face, an average share of talent,and very well adaptcd to pcrsoiiify the Imp of Mischief. Indeed, I can but flatter myself that, had I existed during the mythological age. that very much-abused goddess. ‘Atc,’ could scarcely have distinguished me from herself. You have heard weatherâ€"worn farmers affirm that ‘ every flock has a black sheep I’â€" VVcIl, I cannot resist telling you, al- though it may not seem a very ele- gant comparison, that I was tltc ‘ black sheep’ of our flock. As a child I found it impossible to ' do as other children of like station did. Iliad no fancy for promenadv ing the street in the costume of a millincr’s doll, nor for being carried into the drawing-room to receive )2 it‘ It (liltit V' ._. sf‘, \ A Vol. H. No. 3 "3’. ,..-...-_. __ sisters, who were nearly finished, practicable. school-life but perfected what Mad- turttcd to the parental roof skilled in bookâ€"lore and mistrt'ss of a variety of accomplishments, yet as incorri-fi gable a romp as ever. Poorinamma! During my eighteenth winter I was duly ‘brougl'tt out ;’ or, to those who might find this expression. ambiguous, fairly launched upon the waves of fashionable society. For sr‘tn'icthing like six t’nonths I danced, chatted and laughed with upper~tcnâ€" dom; turned night into day, and vice versa, ate ices and Sippctl champagne when l should have been‘ asleep; and spent my breath in saying soft nothit'tgs to trtilk-faccd, moustached (I don’t object to mous- tat-lics, though!) creatures, calling themselves gmttlmnen, when I had better have been repeating AVc f‘tI-ll‘lt‘S or Peter Nostcrsl But I new.- went through with all this! miserable foolery as the remainder of our set did; I was as peculiarly myself in this :,::nploy:'iieiit as I had been iii the nursery. My sisters \vcrc great beauties, consequently thcir first seasons were a complete triumph. I made no prctctition to personal loveliticss,at'id mine was not. .‘ts the daughter of the celebrated 't'ankcr, B . I oould not do other vise than crcatc quite a flattering sensation, even had my n’tanncrs been ten times hovdcnish than they were; but still and not tinfrcqucntly heard the sig- nificant ‘gauclicric’ coupled with my name as I passed sundry juvenâ€" ilc butterflies who affected French and folly. My lady mother was in despair. ‘ You vill never find a decent hus- bandl' she tiscd often to affirm iii dccp chagrin; ‘ never. never! after all we have done. and are doing for you every day 1’ But when she canto to add,â€"-‘Nor an admirer eithcr.’ she was vastly mistaken, as. to her unbounded surprise she soon discovered. The Fitzfollcns then ranked among the aristocracy of the city. True, there were some doubts as to their right to this position, some aspcr- sions cast upon their ancestors Sonic rumors that their great. great grand- father was only a common tallow- chandler; and. furthermore, it was pretty widcly known that Mr. Fitz follcn, junior, had an extreme horror of the word ‘parvcnu,’ which gardcd it tn the proper light. But the Fitzfollcn coffers,â€"â€"i. c , money- bags,â€"â€"wcre neither small nor few ; the Fitzfollcn pretentious ditto, So they had no difficulty in registering their names among the 'first fami lies,’ (‘ F. F. of B.,’ l supposeI Charles Florida would put it and so, too, when Claudius Gustravc, sole hope of the house, made known his ardent admiration of my humble; self, mamma was quuc as much sur- prised and delighted as it was at all proper for an aristocratic lady to be. t 0f the first sensation l partook event more largely than did she, but the ltlSlâ€"â€"â€"Fitle pity inclâ€"was as for», cign to my nature as anything could! well be I Claudius Gustave Fitzfollcn was an exquisite of the highest order, a company and bon-bons; the hon bons were well enough. but the company was quite another thing. Neither did I one whit fetter fancy the idea of mincing af’f'cctcdly along by the side of the nurse when we were out on the coalition for our morning recreation. I must be al- lowed to take pleasure in my own way or there was no pleasure for me; and, in spite of pleas, remun- stranccs and llll'CtllBl’lltigS, I could no more avoid patronizing every toad 'lie was in Encland. sir. and wot u )= n a l Iliamond 0f the first water, in flip-- pery. He had 'travellcd all over; the world, sit'.’ had suppcd oll’ eggs, cooked at the mouth of Vesuvius, and sipped wine with the Italian ban- ditti; was presented at court when; the most delightful flirtation with her Majesty’s chief maid of honor; had broken more than one proud' beauty’s heart in the French motto polis, and could count his Iiaisonst among charming griscttcs and fair: ballct girls by the score; couldl that came in my way, and stopping to caress every dogâ€"no matter how lean and dirtyâ€"~than I could supply my lungs with air while closing both mouth and nostrils. I think my fa- ther rather enjoyed this particular phaze in my character, for I rememâ€" ber he never laughed so freelv and heartily as when alone with-hie; but to my mother it was a downright bugbear, the very bane oflier exist- ence, and her only hope lay in the possibility of future improvement.~â€"â€" Feeling thus neutely upon the subject it was not strange that she sought the means of accomplishing the consum- mation so devoutly desired; and the result of her endeavors was the sending of my troublesome selfoff to boarding-school in company with my speak, at least, three foreign Ian-l guagers With an accent; polk most tavtsliingly, and sing divinely. Such. was lits Vt’l‘SlOt) at his own exploits; l wouldn’t vouch, understand me,; for the truth of it. In personal appearance lie was? tall and distressnigly thin. (‘gen- with a sallow face surmounted by a profusion of flaxet. hair. a moustache of the same delicatc hue, and a pair" of leaden blue eyes. In character he was shallow and shockinglv, self-l conceited. I horses, and rouge ct noir, and would ll'lOl'C I did not cotiie to bc mnclt of a bone,- VHS immensely signIicant, if one only rc-i teelly sliglit,’ be choose to conSIder l)l Patronized cogniac, fast 2 ..x--.,» 'c ~c/ \/ \Vr-c- u-“ ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. l t and attentive he was to every one, 'but towards /l(;'l’ there he did it was not at ail as he ‘and have added the meerschaurn, only " AN D mentorin- HILL ADV O GATE AND v‘ v"»/ \/ \2' g \- x/ ‘shu -_/\.*>_/ u s/ \zVVVV‘W’\,/\/’VF‘H'\_/'\J‘V‘V'V c/VVVâ€"~VA_/xx._/\/-\f./\/\/‘./\/~_/~s/AMM\/V~¢~~J~~¢-x/ v \_/ v" “ Let Sou-ml Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.” RECEEWEGNE) EEEI .L, FRIDAY, AUGUST to, teen. And this Was the mdtvtdual whom gittnplc reason that Claudius Gustavel mean the four-footed l’ at as early an age as was at all t'noney-inatiing papas regarded as" . L »‘ u v . .’ .1 lll(,C 30Ullg Illdll , But, alas for her anticipations! tug mammas pronounced a ‘capital catch ;’ and this was the individualt . . . , amc Nature had begun; and, after xvhou'i, if I played my card tight, I ‘ an arduous scige Offch vcars, I rc- might Secure for a husband! Flat- 1 luring, wasn’t itl But I didn’t fecl‘ one bit flattered by the prospect ; I iadn’t the slightest ambition to: write my name Mrs. Fitzfollcn} and, although I was utterly unable to, understand why he chose incâ€"«me, wild, lioydcnish Charlotte Barttctte â€"-as the object of his affection ; I rather folt myself insulted by the preference. , About the middle of my first win? tcr out a new star appeared in the literary World, and not a more star dinnt train. This fresh wonder was no more nor less a personage than by birth, who had just returned from but a planet, brightest of all the raw‘j ,\Ir. l.ukc \Voodbridgc. an All'let'lCtllll London,whcrc ltc had rattde among ' l whom schem- l’osscssittg an ample fortune iti his own right, and bearing the unmi takablc laurcls of Fame upon his brow, he was rcccchd with raptur- ous cntliusiasn‘t by the fashionable world. is ‘ considering themselch honored by i even the passing notice of so distin- as ltc ltad bccn, and still was, of the world of 'cttcrs. Manama, ever on the alert for everything recherche, persuaded my lately arrived novelty without delay, and proffer him the hospitality of our house ; and, as a result of this little by-play, we were among the first to welcome the wanderer to his native land, I wculd to portray \Voodbridgc for you iii living char- acters, but my powers of description are insufficient. I might paint a tropical tempest to one who has al- ways dwclt amongr northern snows ' l‘ . .tlae , I ought patiit thc coldness and deso-t who has never strayed from the bloom and fragrance of the luxuri- ant south; but, although I might give the (lgtnil, I could not add the lift: to either of these plC'tttt‘cs; until no tnorc could] do justice to the, hereof this simple sketch. So, if" you plenso, I will not dwell upon Luke \Vtmdbtidgc’s poison, mind ort manners, but leave it to your own imaginations to make him just what: you would most like him to be. I used to see him frequently at own home, of a quiet cvcn'ng or rainy Morning, when he cutct taincd us with rcl'tcarsals ofhis past \vandcr ings, or read, in a singularly pleas- ing voice, some book of rare interâ€" est; and I always experir'nccd a strang‘ awe in his soctcty, a feeling that I was in the presence ofa supcw rior being. There was no family ofl our set that he spent half tltc time with which llf‘ did with us; and at length Madame Rum r conncctcd| his name with that of my older sis- ter, Geraldine. It was not at all wonderful that this should be so, for there Was occasion for it, I must confess. I‘Ic treated her differently from that he did others; dclforcntial was a half twrccptible shade of tenderness mingling with his rcspect-a some- thing to which he was not commonly addicted. I am sure licadtriired her ardently 'ndced; he must have been a complete Stoic to have done otlier-. wise, for she was very, very beauti- ful and graceful and charti’iing. To me he rarely spoke ; and when t ad- dressed mamma, or Heloise, orGer- aldinc; or, indeed, any one. He, never laughed at my wildest sallics of mirth, net/er llt'SllttthI to reprovct the severely \\7l:€."C rcproof was nee-r 3d, and never countenanccd the sarcasm to which I was sometimes; given; yet, in spite of all this seem- iug l‘tarsliness, there Was an under-t current of gentleness tn his manncr,l a kindness in his eye which puZzled me. , So matters went on until the mid-7I dlc of the ensuing June, when a re-1 thc first lttcrztturcs of tltc country.‘ The most aristocratic of the: city opcncd wide their doors to l‘tlllt,t guishcd a person ; and he soon lic-t Icamc as much the lion ofgay society more prosy father to wait upon this. Iutllit'.” or does Miss Gera’s heartâ€"complaint . t‘- ' - ' ~ . ~ .' . ~ . . . . him“ “I *1 “mum!” “‘“lU l0 (“‘Llprotrudcd till they resembled mamâ€" church, opera and ball, and at our! 'now.’ «hanging his tone to one of deep .pei‘piexity, he saidâ€"â€"-‘ Sit down! sit treat to Nchm‘t was proposed.â€"â€"â€"2 too, argued my lady mother. to! endure it. his head was not sufficiently strong‘. this frankly, though perhaps I shouldl Mr. VVoodbridge and the Fitzfollcns ; air, Newport excitement the, worst were going, therefore we must gojthiag in the World forit; need to be But in the countryâ€"up among the New this arrangement did not please me, I I'Itltl'lpSllll'C hillsâ€"on a farmâ€"weed: for two reasons. In the first placelplcnty of exerciseâ€"“out-of-door ex-l I knew I was getting too deeply it‘i-lct‘cisc tcrestcd in the literary lion, (I say donliies 1’ t was becoming too deeply interestch in me. As yet he had not "declared himself,’ but I feared every day lest he might, and was very sure that a sojourn at Ncyvport would bringth‘c hated catastrophe, so I cast about for some method by which to avert jlllC evil. Fortunately for me I had an uncle John, an active, well~to~do farmer, iii the interior of New Hampshire. I had not seen him since my child- hood, but knew his character well enough to be confident that I should be welcome to his heart and home ; so to Uncle John I resblved to go in my pcrplexity. But how wasl to ‘get there? that Was the qucstion.â€"-â€" How could I account to my friends for this sudden capricel For just one hourI discussed the dilliculties of my proposed undertaking, and at the end of that time tied on my hat . and went to consult Doctor Grcyson. ‘I never had one.’ "I‘hcn it would be a novelty.â€" Great animals, donkeys are ; capital for filing; you wouldn’t object to one ?’ ‘ On the contrary, I should admire one.’ ‘ Vary Well; then a donkey it shall be , nosey-riding good for those who t:.:~.’l1ll)lt a tendency to apeplcxy. You understand? I’ll see the ’old gentleman this very day, and ‘put a flea in his ear.‘ Ila, lta, ha! ca- pital plan, Charley ; we’ll out-wit them yet, see if We don’t l’ and the jelly ol'l gentleman fairly danced the room for glee a performance which I was not slow to imitate, for I felt sure of the success of my *scheme. I laughed all the way home. I laughed when, in the evening, my inlatuated lover cxpatiatcd upon the pleasure he should derive from the Doctor Greystin, be it known,was our family physician; :1 man aged in years and experience, and a veryt dear frian of mine and Iliad an idea he might help me to escape from my dilemma. As kind Fate would have it, I found him in his 0f- licc alonc. ‘ The gods are propitious !’ I men- tally ejaculated, as I noticed, upon entering, the state of affairs. ‘ \Vliy, Charley, Charley, how d’ye do "5’ exclaimed the old man heartily, as be advanced to meet me. ‘Glad to see you, by Jove, I am! ‘ Exploring-aw. the treasures of the ‘ vasty dccpâ€"aw,’ with his dwcar Charolette-aw.’ I laughed, even laughed when Mr. \Voodbridge dwelt in his deep, thrilling tones upon the indescribable- glot-V of the ft-ttcrlcss sea; and I came laughing the next morning at break- fast wlicn papa, having cleared his threat by a preparatory ‘hcm!’ coking at me somewhat apprehen~ sivcly, inquiredâ€"â€" ‘ Charlotte, my dear, do you feel quite well l’ ‘ch, sir; that is, generally,’ ., lâ€"q ‘V‘ I. an: . (Dr. Gt'cyson always took oath by ‘Iovc,’) but what brought you way down here at this timel’ (Notc.) wlt was an insufferany warm afternoon. - ‘ Sickness, doctor, I returned, Stilcmtily. ‘b‘ickncss, ch? Why, does mam- ma’s aitstocratic little finger ache? require medical advice ?’ ' Neitlicr,’ I replied, rather blindly. ‘All are well at borne; it is] who have become an invalid ‘You?’ and the good man’s eyes moth bullets; ‘you l’ and his capa-, cious mouth opened to its Widest ex- tent. ‘ You look like an invalid,. don’t you l’ and he marched the tip before a half-length mirror. The most ominous sights] saw were a pair of unusually bright hazel cycs and a pair of unusually rosy (:liccks ; but this did not daunt me in the least. 'Looks are deceptive,’ I remarked cotnposcdly. "l’hcrc which reveals itself neither in the face'nor foam, and yet is very much to be fcarcd.’ ‘ And there is a disease which re- veals itself nowhere but at the end of a woman’s tongue I’ said my old friend, ironically; then, suddenly down! Charley, child,and for mcrcy’s sake tell me what you mean 2’ Thus nrgcdpl proceeded to esta- bliin myself inrthc inviting office- chair which stood near, and then, briefly and lucidly, explained my troubles and desires. My little story was heard with profound at- tention; the pity I so longed for fiecly bestowed, and the coveted! aid promised. l ‘ Yes, yes, Charley, I’ll help you.’ affirmed my kind friend heartily.“ ‘It would be a sin and a shame for them to sacrifice you so, and they shall not do itl They shan’t do it. my little girl; trust me for [hull-“‘- But how shall I manage it‘l’ "Give me a good large vial of lo- bclia or ipccac,’ I answered bravely, ‘that will make me sick enough, and pale enough, too, if that is all that’s wz'tntcd.’ ‘(Jh, I’ll warrant it would! I’ll inetliing. ’the very identical words.’ is a diseaset anang to reply with beretnin sobei‘ncss. ‘ But don’t you all the time T ‘No, sirâ€"I can’t say that Ido.’ ‘ Your symptoms 'l’ he asked nervously. ‘Notliing, I dare say, sir, mch I’ain through and above the eyes; slight dizziness occasion- ally, that is all.’ ‘All! all! it’s enough, I should think l Just what the doctor saidâ€"â€" U ‘ My love, wltat does all this nonsense mcanl’ interposed momma, petulantly. ‘ It means, madame. responded papa, ‘ that our daughter Charlotte is ill.’ “Ill! repeated Gera, Heloise and Ford, in a breath. ‘ III I’ exclaimed mamma-‘ licr (COIDPIUXIOII indicates it, doesn’t it? ch, Thomas, why will you jcst so liorridly l’ f ‘I am not jesting.’ was the seri- ous reply ; ‘ iii proof of which hear my autliority.’ And he proceeded to relate the story which I hadj helped to concoct not twenty hoursI before in old Doctor Grcyson’s back office. Sickness was a great bngbear to our family, and no sooner had my father completed his narration than I was assailed by a great din of condolence; ‘Oh, Lottie l’ cried my sisters. tTa be concluded in our next.) I L,__ Tin: GREATEST SEMINARY.â€"â€"~Tltc fireside is a suninary ofinfinitc importance. It is unpertant because it is uiiiversal. woven itt with the woof ofcliildltood, gives fortn‘and colour to the whole texture of life. Th;- lcarning of the iiiivctsity may {late on; the recollection; its classic IOVc may tnotihécr in the halls of memory. But the simian;- lessons of liome,embalincd upon the hearts of childhood, defy the rust ofl years, and outlite the pictures of afterl days. So deep, so lasting, indeed, are the impressions of early life, that you often see a man in the imbecilin of age holding fresh in his recollection the events of childhood, while all the wide space beâ€" tween that and the present hour is a blast- ed and forgotten waste. You have per haps seen an old and halfâ€"obliterated portrait, and in the attempt to have it. clcaned and restored you may have seen itl fade away, while a brighter and more per- warrant it would! but there’s no no- cessity for proceeding to such ex- treme measures,’ and he fell to muttering over some unintelligible gibberish, ending by declaring,â€" ‘You have a very strong pulse, tharlcy l’ I assented. ‘And a very florrid complexion ?' ‘ Yes, sir.’ ‘ch, ma’aml decidedly bad symptotnsâ€"â€"dedd€.llv bad! um, um â€"â€"rush of blood to the head! prcé disposition to apoplexy. Newport Charley, ' "do you like ‘ Net two-footed ones, sir.’ jl)lUSll for it.) And, secondly, I badl ‘Uh, ahl of course not! but I feet picture, painted beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, first drawn upon the canvass, is no inapt illustration of youth; and though it may be concealed by some after design, still the original traits will shine through the outward pic- ture, giving it tone while surveying it in deCay. Such is the fireside, the great itiâ€" stitution furnished by Providence for the education of man. TRUE SiMPLiCiTY.â€"-Dr. Doddridge’s daughter, who died very young, was a great favourite of every one who knew her. Some one said to her, “ \Vliy does every body love you so much 7.’~â€"b‘be re- plied, “I think it. is because 1 love every- body.” ,. THE PORTRAIGHT.-~A. said to 13., “\Vhose portrait is that'l’â€"-â€"B. replied, “Sisters and brothers have I none, but that man’s father, was my father’s son. ADVERTISER. ‘J‘VV \JV’VM c,» \.r\;’\_/ \r\_« u , r-c/x/ -. /\.‘\u"-» TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. id’hele No. 89. HINTS 0N SELLING PRODUCE AND BARGAIN MAKING. From the American Agriculturiat. The successful farmer must be a good business man. It is not enough that he can raise a hundred bushels of corn per acre ; he should know when atid how to sell it, and how to make sure of his money. ‘It is ob- served by some men, that they al- neat . and because the education it bestows beingl ways hit just the right time to sell, when prices are at the toptnest notch, and that they are equally for- tunatc iii buying, the market seemâ€" ing to go down for their especial accommodation. Some -may be born with a gold spoon iit their mouth, but they are exceptions.â€" b‘tcady adherence to a few plain maxims has done more to secure competence to the fortunate, than all the “lucky stars,” that ever shone. The following suggestions indicate a few of these principles. It is safe, as a rule, to sell when the market has settled to a steady price, rather than to wait with exâ€" pectation of a fortunate rise. There are periods, when everything fluctu- ates. The operations of speculators or other disturbing influences, cause a feverish anxiety among dealers, and prices change rapidly ; but when the flurry is over, prices find the level which tltc relations of sup- ply and demand invariably fix. The man that waits for some such ~dis~ turbing cause to raise the tide, that it may flood his pocket with :1 hiin price, will be quite as likely to wait a little too long, for the ebb of such currents is always rapid, and the re- action almost it'iv:.iriably brings a period of corresponding depression. After the bulk ol'tlic crops in the country is secured, and sufficient time has elapsed for dealers to learn the amount of supplies on hand, prices are usually steady, with a fair demand ; then it is safe to dispose of produce. An average of prices ob~ tained for ten years under this sys- tem, will exceed what is received by those who wait for the highest rates. In his anxiety for returns above the market, the 'armer is often tem- pted to sell on credit to unknown parties. prriccs go up he receives his pay, if they fall. the speculator breaks. and the producer loses. The loss of a single crOp in this way has crippch many a man for years. If credit must be given, know your man, but sell for cash, if it be possi- ble. The producer having waited months for his crops to yield, can ill afford to wait months longer for them to be turned into money. In t't’iakingr a bargain, nothing is gaincd by higliting, or setting a price above what is really expected, and then falling by degrees to the re- quircd sum. Let the seller inlorm himself of the real value of his cum- modity, fix his figure, announce it at once, and not deviate from it. Buy- ers soon learn their man. They meet the chaffercr with his own tactics, and usually with the advan- tage that it is less necessary for them to purchase, than for him to sell. If they can beat him down a notch below the market, the bar- gain is madc, otherwise they Will at least wait until another time. But a man of one priceâ€"if lie is reason- able in his expectations, saves his time. does not lose his self’rcspect by the reflection, that he has over~ reached or been outdone by another â€"-is applied to by those who are ready to purchase, and in LI 9 long run is better paid than he who “uses many words in buying and selling.” The higglcr is approached with caution. you feel that you must look out for him, you a. c not safe in be- licving his statements for his prac- tice tends to dishonesty ; you may go with all confidence to the fair dealer, knowing that his terms do not vary, and you can buy of him as favorably as the sl‘irewdest specu- later. In all the contracts, a full and plain statement of terms in writing, 1s. the best preventive of misunder- standing. Thc form is of less conse- quence than such a record of details as leaves the n’icaning clear and ex- plicit. Ten drops of ink, rightly put on paper, may be \\’O"lll many times ten dollars in ill feeling, or lawsuits and costs. There is a class of farmers who rely more on their powers of bar- gain making, than upon the produc- tiveness of their soil. When others are plowing and planting, they are buying and selling oxen. They will leave the cornfield unfinished for a I. H ‘7 ». .mutt V I W.-_fl-_u AMâ€"- , - . ~ “u”: Ofthe town is swept. VFW due will attract them fro-n every other ocCupation. O'tie,i)f’,'tliis class is usually known by remarkable as- sortment of waggon‘s,‘"Ca‘rt'sjt’m miscellaneous implements ; scat-toggli- about his premises, generally by the. i‘ohdsit.lc;"'by the backwardness of his fields, the dilapidation ofjhtis.flen- ces, his brcacliy cattle, maraudtng‘ r . "3. $91K, .' hogs, bulky horses, and CQleumfiPl hard times. Always ready for a “trade,” his neighbors find .liinigf service in relieving them of‘uhdcstrs able stock, and his place becomes a kind of eddy, into which the rubbish I But as such pcrsons seldom read the .dgricultizr- ist, advice“ here would be wasted; thcv are mentioned only us We woiild sc‘t rip a. finger-post with 1hr: inscription: “ A hard road to trawl. which is a sufficcnt caution to be wise to event it. HOMESPUN. ICEâ€"\VATER. If the reader is down-town or away from home on a hot day, and feels as if it, would be perfectly delicious to have a glass of lemonade, sedawat-er, or brandy teddy, by all means let him resist the temptation until lie gets home, and then take a glass of cool water, a swallow at a time, with a second or two interval between each swallow. Several noteworthy results will most assure- dly follow. After it is all over, your will feel quite as well from a drink of water, as if you lied enjoyed a free swig of .navies and were engaged in pic either of the others. In ten minutes after you will feel a great deal better. You will not be poisoned by the lead or copper which is most gene- rally found in Soda-water. I You will be richer by six cents. which Will be the interest on a dole lar fora whole year. You will not have fallen down dead from sudden chills which some- times result from drinking soda, iced water, or teddy in a hurry. Ne well man has any business to eat ice or drink iced liquids in any shape or form, ifhc wants to reserve his teeth, protect the tone of his‘ stomach, aitd guard against sudden inflan'n‘nations and prolonng dyspe- psias. It is enough to make one shudder to see a beautiful young girl sipping scalding coffee or tea at the beginning of a meal, and then close it with a glass of ice-water; for at thirty she must either be snaggin- tyotocd, or wear those of the dead or artificial. Fresh spring or well-water is abundantly cool for any drinking purpose whatever. In cities where water is artificially supplied, the case is set'ricwhat dillierent; but even then therc is no good excuse for drinking ice-water, because, even if the excuse were good in itself, the effect on the stomach and teeth are the same. Make a bag of thick woollen doubled, and lined with muslin; fill it with ice; have in a pitcher an inch or two of water above the faucet, and let this bag of ice be suspended from the cover within two inches of the surface ofthc water. The ice will melt slowly and keep the water delightfully cool, but not ice cold. A still better effect will be produced if the pitcher is also well enveloped in woolen. Again, water almost as cool as it can be, unless it has ice actually in It, may be had without any ice at all, by enveloping a close pitcher partly filled with several folds cf cotton, linen or bagging, and so arranging it that these folds are“ kept wet all the time by water drip- ping from another vessel, on the principle of govaporation.â€"â€"Hall's Journal of Health. CARS i.\' THE il,)i;sniiT.â€"â€"-i\'lr.Russell, the well known Crimean reporter of the London Times, gives a most interesting sketch of a run through a portion of the Arabian desert by the new railway route. \VVe subjoin an extract zâ€"Blitticlied bones of camels lie in dull whiteness on the sands. Nota bird fans on the not silent air. Stones and sand, and sand and stones, are all and everywhere stretched out (had and hard under the blue sky and the rest- less sun. The rail which conveys us through this desolation, is single, and the line is said, by Englisltenginccrs, to be very badly made, as the French engineers who laid it out took it over a ridge of 1,100 feet hiin instead offellowing a low level near the riVer, think would have greatly dnninisltcd expense and cost of working. The Water and coal for the. engines are to be carried by the trains out of the various stations. 5.0 they are like conimissarat animals in a barren cutth- try, which have to carry their own fodder and dimminisli the public burdens. The stations are helpless, liot, ovenâ€"like crect~ ions, generally eked out by old Crimean wooden huts, within the shade of which may be seen an undetthted Englishman, smoking his pipe. At the tWelvtli station we cooled; the train ended in the desert here; but at long intervals for miles in ad- vance, we could see the encampments of Arabs, who for the time had become king, bur- rowing and blasting through the rocks a Way for the iron horse. In a long wooden shedâ€"the centre of a group of tents were laid out long tables, covered with hot joints of- recondite animals, papier macbe chickens, and ligtiite vegetables. This was our dinnermit had come all the way from Carloâ€"+50 bad the Wine, the beer, and spirits. If manna and quai-ls were at i all eatabe, we had envied the food of the “_\Vhat relation was the portrait to B.’lcliance ,of trade horses, and a van»- l Israelites: ,t/