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A. RUBlNSON’S, L. 1,). S. New method of extracting teeth without pain, by the use of Ether Spray,which. affects the teeth only. The tooth and guxr surrounding becomos insensible with the exteriml agency, when the tooth can be ex- tractetl with no pain and without endanger- ing the life, as in the use of Chloroform. Dr. Robinson will be at the following place- prepared to extract teeth with his new apfi paratus. All olfiee operations in Dentistry Performed in a workmanlike manner : ‘Aurora, lst, 3rd, 16th and 22d of each mom )Newmarket..,.. .. 2d “ “ Richmond Hill, 9th and 24th “ ” 1/ Civil Engineer and Draughtsman. . Orders by letter should state the Concession, Lot and character of Survey; the subscriber having the 01d Field Notes of the late D. GXBSON and- other surveyors, which should be consulted, in many cases as to original monuments, &c., previous to commencing work. ‘ ‘ - Horses examined as to soundness, and also bought and sold on commission. - Rxehmsnd Hill, Jan. 25, 1872. 507 (SUCCESSORS T0 w. W. C0x,) UTCHERS, RICHAIOND HILL, HAVE always on hand the best of Beef, Mutton, Lamb, Veal, Pork, Sausa es, 3:0,, and sell at the lowest prices for Gas 1. Boas arid shbes made to measure, of the best material and wprknmnship, at the low- ast remuneratingApriiqqs: ‘ Office at \VILLOWDALE, Yonge Street, in the Township of York. Jam’y 8,1873: " _ 755 J. ll. SANDERSON, ETERINARY SURGEON, Graduate of Toronto University College, corner of Yonge and Centre Sts. East, Richmond Hill, begs to announce tovthe public that he is now practising with 11. Sanderson, of the same pla‘ce, wlxefe they may be consulted personâ€" ally orby letter, on all diseases of horses, cattle, &c. All-orders from a distance promptly at- tended to, And medicine sent to any part of the Province. . ‘ ' 'l‘hornhill. .. ..23rd Maple ............ ......26th Burwick . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28th Kleinbm'g ...... ..29th Nobleton.... Nitrous Oxide Gas always A urora. Aurora, April 28, 1870 OHN ,iARRON, manufacturer and dealer 5 in all-kinds of boots and shoes, ‘38 \Vest Mgrkft Squ_a1‘p, Toronrto. 'AIU{I._”1‘ER, AT’J‘ORNEYâ€"A'ILLAW', Somewou 1x CIIANCEIIY, CONVEYANCER, &c., &c. ()‘FIFi(3E;~â€"N0. 12 York Chambers, South- east Corner of Toronto and Court Streeti, Toronto, Ont. ' Also, Corned 21nd Spiced Beef, Smoked and Dried Hams. The highest market price given for Cattle, Sheep, Lambs, &c. will be promptly attended to : Fancy Bills, Business Cards, Circularleaw Forms, Bill Heads, Blank Checks, Drafts, Blank Orders, Receipts, Letter lloa<ls,l4‘a.ncy Cards, Pamphlets, Large and Small Posters, and every other kind of Letterâ€"Press Print- .ng.‘ caler in Drugs, Medicines, .Uroueries, D Wines, and .liinluors, ’l‘iiornhill. By Royal Letters Patient has been appointed ls- suei- of Marriage Licenses. ‘Having made large additions to the print- ing material, we are better prepared than ever to do the ncatest and most beautiful printing of every description. (joi'nerof Young and Centre streets East have constantly on hand a good assortment of Drugs, Paints, Perfumery, Chemicals Qils, Toilet Soups, Medicines, Varnishes [*‘ancyArticles, Dye Stuffs, Patent Medicines md all other articles kept by druggists generally. Our stock of medicines warrant- ed genuine, and of the best qualities. Richmond Hill, Jan '25, ’72 705 Mt. Albert than one your, insertion. ..... .. 0 Eachsubscquent insertion...... . - 0 2‘2 inches to be considered one column. we?! MO Advertisements without written direction nsoliigcd tilliorbid, Enid ohm-ng acoordingly. A11 transitory advertisements from regu- lar or uregulm' customers, must be pmd for when handed in for inscrtiml. Urderfl fur hmy of the undemmntinned des- cription of One inch, one year..... .. 'J‘wn inches, one year 'l'hx'ec inches, one your” . . Advertismncnts for a shorter period EARMERS’ BOOT AND SHOE STORE All letter‘s addressed to the editors must 11¢ post-paid. BOOK 6; JOB PRINTING Plain & Colored Job Work RICHMOND HILL DRUG STORE, No paper discontinued until all afi-eamges are paid ; and parties refusing papers with- out paying up will be held accountable for the subscription. Tth Yum; HERALD will always be found to contain the latest and most; important Foreign and Local News and Markets, and the greatefit care will be taken to render it acceptable to the man of business, and a \blc li‘zunily Newspaper. TERMS: 011-0 Dollzh‘Aper annum in ad- vance, if not paid within two months, One Dollar and l“_i_fty ants will b}; charged. And dispatched to subscribers by the earliest mails or other conveyances, when so desired. Every Friday Morning, THE YORK HERALD January 15, 1873 Richmond Hill, Oct. 24, ’72 ’J‘oronto, Dec73‘, 1867‘ [map Book ‘and Job Printz'nyEstal/lisliment PETER S. GIBSON, digYfiSUIAL L491 D _SUR‘VEYOR, FFmEâ€"Yomx Sun, RICHMOND HILL. .UhLISHER AND PROPBIETOR OF ADAM II. MEYERS, JIL, ALEX. SCOTT, TERMS; $1 PER. ANNUM IN ADVANCE. W. H. & R. PUGSLEY, VOL. XVII. NO 2'3 (Late of [)ugyan (3' Meyers,) H ADVERTISING RATES PEIF} IIEI21A LI) ESTABLISHMENT. THO M AS UAR R, PROPRIE'I‘URS 0F TH E DENTISTIRY . " THE YORK HERALD.” sANDERSON & SUN, BIRUGG IS’I‘S‘. IS 1’ UBLISHED 24th 15131) 23rd 26th 28th 29th ,30th 011 hand at PER 1 SCH 756-137 000 050 4.33 Ru MANY years ago a French general on duty at Turin started. with his wife to a court ball. The lady had just thrown off her outer cloak when she was taken ill. A doctor and a few ladies attended her, and the general {vas soon seen wrapping a lively boy in his coat, and hurrying homeward. The boy so horn is Admiral De la. Ronciere lc Noury, who was recently removed from the conunangl of the Meditemnnean squadron for displaying too much Bonapartist zeal. The fourth mistake to be noticed is the prevalent notion that to work with the hands can never be as honorable as it is to work with the brain. If indeed a man is nothing but a tool or a. part of a machine, he cannot expect to take an elevated position in society. But suppose the hand and the head to work togetherwas they always will, to seine ex~ tent, just as soon as you rise out of the re- gion of mere servile toilâ€"how does the mat- ter stand then ‘1 Here is a practical farmer, who is also astudent of scientific agriculture, and brings his knowledge to bear upon the improvement of land, the increase of crops, the perfectin of seeds, economy in labor~ under his ski ful hand barren wastes are re- deemed, so that the earth will always be more fruitful because he has lived and labor- ed, and his culture makes the human race richer as well as his own householdâ€"could any one ask for more honorable employment? Here is a young mechanic, who has learned his trade thoroughly and well, and starting in life as a skilled accomplished workman, he brings his mind to the watchful study of every progress in his workwcontriving, ex- perimenting, inventing, and gradually rising from his inferior position till he becomes a master-workman, a contractor, the head of a grand establishment, “ saying to this man, go, and he oeth, and to that man, come, and he cometh, ‘ is this not better and more hon~ orable than to be a feeble advocate at'the bar, or an impecunious, half-starveduncm.. be)- of any other learned profession ‘3 And, lastly, it is very sad when one finds that he has chosen a line of life to which he is not adapted. It works badly, whether the peg is too large or too small for the hole. AN 01d sailor, passing through a grave-yard saw on one of the tombstones, “I still live." It was too much for Jack, and shifting his quid, he ejaculated, “Well, I’ve heard any that there are cases in which a man may 116,; but if I was dead I’d own it.” V The third mistake is that of rushing from the country to the large cities without any reasonable pros )cct of finding remunerative occupation. I all the groans and sighs which come from the stores and offices, where our clerks, and salesmen, and bookkeepers congregate, could be heard through our country towns and villages, there would not he the same eagerness to join the crowd who haunt the city streets. If there be a fair chance of your attaining a comfortable liv- ing in an honest way, stay near home, and build upon a sure foundation, even though the structure rise somewhat slowly. \Vher- ever and however they may begin life, as a. general rule, men will gravitate to their true level. If it be in you to burst the nar- row l)ounds which at first restrict your steps, you will be quite certain to do it sooner or later. Society is divided into two classesithe workers and the non-workers. The workers are, again, divided into two classesâ€"those who work with their hands and those who work with their brains. The latter distinc- tion in not as clearly marked as the former, for manual toil is generally su )plemented by some activity of the mind, an mental labor by a certain amount of bodily exercise. The man who hammers stone must use his 'udg- ment in order to strike in the right place; and the man who hammers his brains must use his hands in order to rccoréf’his thoughts. "In the choice of a vocation, there are five great mistakes to be avoided. The first is crowding into what are called “ the profes- sions," or mercantile life, or some other em- )loyment where there is but little manual labor, or the supposition that this must promise to the young man a comparatively easy life. There are none who work harder than some who are supposed not to work at all. An aching brain may be more trying than a weary arm. The second mistake into which young men are liable to fallâ€"~and this is worse than the firstâ€"45 that of trying for a place in some of those branches of business where there is a possibility of achieving a great fortune at a stroke, with the strong probability of not making a cent. This is simply “running for luck,” with the prospect of breaking your neck in the race. The few, who suc- ceed, every one hears of; the multitude, who fail, pass out of sight and are soon forâ€" gotten. CCOUNTANT, Book-Keeper, Convey [X ancer, and Commissiou Agent for the sale or purchase of lands, farm stock, &c., also for the collection of rents, notes and ac- counts. Charges Moderate. OFFICEâ€"â€"Richmond srrcet, Richmond Hill. 700-1y There are among our readers multitudes of young man who are asking to-day, with much solicitude and anxiety, “ “’hat shallI do for a. living? ” \Ve do not think that there has ever been a time when it was more difficult to answer this question. EALER IN FINE GOLD AND SIL- \‘er Watches, Jewelry, 1%., 113 Yonge Street, Toronto. \VM. MALLOY, BARRISTER, Attorney, Solicitor~in~Uhim cox-y, Uonveyanccr, 6m. OFFICEâ€"N0. 6 Royal Insurance Buildings, Toronto street. Toronto, Dec. 2, 1859. 594 Sold by Druggists generally. The Dominion \Vorm Candy is the medicine 0 expel worms. Try it. 700-y Stands permanently above every other Rem (1y now in use. It is invaluable. , LSO, the Pain Victor is Infallible for I Diarrhoea, Dyscntery, Flux, Colie, Cholera M orbus, Pain and Cramp in the Stomach and Bowels, &c. Directions with each bottle and box. Manufactured by H. MUSTARD, Proprietor, Ingersoll, v USTARD’S Pills are the best pills you i can get for Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Billiousness, Liver, Kidney Complaints, &c. AVE you Rheumatisni,\V011nds, Bruises, ()ld Sores, Cuts, Burns, Frost Bites, Piles, Painful Swelllngs, \Vhite Swellings, and every conceivable wound upon man or beast ‘2 and Chronic cases of Cutarrh, Neural- gia, Headache, Colds, Coughs, Group, Asthma, Bronchitis, 820., it is ulsoa good Soothing Syrup. h; USTARD’S Catarrh Specific Cures Acute What shall I do for a. living ? PATENT 19] E DICE N 655. L’ IEOCLALVI (X‘TIUN J. SEGSWORTH, THE KING OF OILS I) . U. ()’B {IEJ 9 Robert and Sudie sat Silent for some time watchin the flicker of the fire, for the days were 06 (1 now and fires were necessary to in- d00r comiort. How longtheir. silence might have continued but for an interruption, 1 do not know;- but an interruption came in the breaking of the forestiek, which had burned in two. A broken reverie may sometimes be “Accordingly Robert drew a cheque for three hundred dollars on his bankers 111 Phil- adelphia, making it payable to Maj-0r Page- 'hrook, and that gentleman undertook to pay the amount that evening to \Vinger. Shortly after this business matter had been settled, Ewinnr and Miss Sudie returned to the parlor and t ie callers took their departure. “ AH, there comes Cousin Edwin now. and Ewmg too, to See you,” said Miss Sudie, hearing thelr v01ces 1n the porch. Thevvisitors came into the parlor, and after a little while Sudie withdrew, intent upon some hOIiSehold matter. Ewing followed her. Robert spoke frankl of his wish to pay \Vingér promptly, am asked : “ Can you cash my cheque on Philadelphia for me Cousin Edwin, for three hundred dol- lars? Don‘t think of doing it, pray, if it is not perfectly convenient.” “ 0 it isn’t inconvenient; at all," said Ma- jo'r Pagebrook. “ l have more money at home than I like to keep there, and I can let you have the amount and send your che no to the bank in Richmond and have it cre it- ed to me quite as well as not. I fact I’d rather do 117 than not", 'as it’ll save express- age on money.” “ \V 11y can‘t you get Cousin Edwin to cash a cheque for you ‘3 ” asked the business-like little woman ; “ he alway has money, and will do it gladly, I know.” ' “ That End fidt occurred to me, but it is a good suggestiqn. If you will lend me your WTltiRg-(lffik I will wlxjite :Imdâ€"J “ 0 yes 1 I have money in bank in Phila- delphia, but Winger has already sent me a note asking immediate payment, and tellinv me he is sorely tossed for money; and T dislike exceeding y to ask his forebearance even for a week, under the circumstances.” “ I am in trouble, Cousin Sudie,” said he, as he sat with her in the parlor one evening, “ about that horse. I know that Mr. \Vin- ger is a poor man, and 1 on ht to pay him at once, but the truth is I [have hardly any money with me, and there is no bank nearer than Richmond at which to get a draft cashed. Now he knew perfectly well that Cousin Sudie had no money at command, and he ought/Lo have known that it was a. very un- reasonable proceeding upon his part to con- sult her in the matter. But love laughs at logic as well as at locksmiths, and so our log- ical young man very illogically concluded that the best thing to do in the premises was to consult Cousin Sudie. “You have money enough, then, some where ‘t" asked Cousm Sudle. The numbness and weariness oppressed him so that he sat down at the root of a. tree, and remained there in a state of half unconscious- ness until Billy came from the house to look him. Arrived at the house he went immedi- ately to bed and into a. fever which prostrat- ed him for nearly a. week, during which time he was not allowed to talk much ; in point of fact he was not inclined to talk at all, except to Cousin Sudic, who moved quietly in and out of the room as occasion required and came to sit 1) his bedside frequently, after Billy and Co . Bai‘ksdalo quitted home again to attend court in another of the adjoining counties, as they did as soon as Robert’s ph - sician pronounced him out of danger. t first Cousin Sudie was disposed to enforce the doctor's orders in regard to silence ; but she soon discovered, quick-witted ’rl that she was, that her talking soothed an quieted the patient, and so she talked to him in a, soft, quiet voice, securing, by violating the doctor’s injunction, precisel the result which the in- junction was inten ed to secure. As soon as the fever quitted him Robert began to recov- er very rapidly, but he was greatly troubled about the still unpaid for horse. It was not far that our young friend had to walk to reach Shirley, but a weariness which he had not felt before crept over him as he ‘ walked. His head aehed sorely, and as the excitement died away it was succeeded by a numbness of despondcucy, the like of which he had never known before. He had declined to “ride and tie" with Billy, thinking the task a small one to walk through by a woods path the house, while Billy followed the main road. \Vith his first feeling of despondency came bitter mortification at the thought that he had allowed so smalla thing as a fox-chase to so excite him. The exertion had been well enough, but he felt that the object in View during the latter half of the chase, namely, the defeat of young Harrison, was one whol- ly unworthy of him, and the color came to his cheek as he thought of the energy he had wasted on so small an undertaking. Then he remered the gallant animal sacrificed in the bland struggle for mere victory, and he could I hardly force the tears back as the thought i came to kiln in full force that the nostrils which had quivered with excitement so short a time since, would snuff the air no more for- ever. He felt guilty, almost of murder, and savagely rejoiced to know that the death of the horse would entail a pecuniary loss upon himself, which would in some sense avenge the wrong done to the noble brute. you turn hnn loose when you jumped oil"! This served to remind Robert of the ani- mal and of Harrison too, and going hastily into the thicket he found the Doctor repair- in his irth, which had been broken in the fol . T 1e Doctor was not hurt, nor was his horse injured in any way, but the black colt that had carried Rabert so gallantly lay dead upon the round. An examination showed that in fa] ing he had broken his neck. “By Jove, Mr. Pagebrook, 1 must shake your hand. I never saw prettier riding in my life, and I’ve seen some good riding too in my time. But wher‘s your horse? Did you turn him loose when you jumped ofl“! Quite naturally Robert was elated as he stood there bare-headed, and received the congratulations of his companions, who had now come up and gathered around him. Loudest among them was Foggy, who leap- ing from his horse, cried out : A MAN OF HONOR. “Accordihgly Robert drew a cheque for .MJ JJL". h, L}, 1 v w CIIOHUS.â€"â€"F0r thou art all the world to me, I cannot love another; Come, lay thy head upon my heart I‘ll not forget thee, mother. I’LL NOT FORGET THEE. MO THER‘ BY GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON. Though time hath left its traces there Upon my brow so tenderâ€" Thongh streams of silver line thy hair. To me they shine in a lendor ; For thou art all the wor d to me, I could not love another; Mv heart shall ever beat for thee, I‘ll not forget thee, mother. You guarded we” my tender years, That I may never perish‘ Oh I then thy voice, thy smiles thy roman. Like sacred things l‘ll cheris I. I'll not forget thy tender 04er 1‘11] earth 111 form shall cover; Come, let thy end rest on my heart; 1‘“ not forget thee, mother. SOME VERY UNREASONABLE CONDUC'IE I‘m going fur away from then, Our hearts we now must sever. Yet thoughts of thee shall dwell with mo. I can {or vet thee never. Then banis all thy silent fem-fl, All 11in and anguiah smother, Uuul ‘lu called from earth uwuy, I'll not. forget, thev, mother. CAAPTER XV RICHMOND HiLL, ONTARIO, CANADA. FRIDAY,‘ OCTOBER 29. 1875 “Yes ; I found blankets very comfortable even before the 10th of October.” “It’s lucky then that you wa’n’t staying with Aunt Polly Barksdale.” “ Why ‘1 and who is your Aunt Polly?” “ Aunt Polly! \Vhy she is Uncle Charle’s widow. She is the model for the whole con- nection ; and I’ve had her held up to me as a pattern ever since I can remember, but I never saw her til about a. year ago, when she came and staid a week or two with us ; and between ourselves I think she is the most disagreeable good per- son I ever saw. She is good, but somehow she makes me wicked, and I don’t think I’m naturally so. I didn’t read my Bible once while she staid, and 1 do love to read it. I suppose I shall like to have her with me in Heaven, if I get there, because there I won’t have anything for her to help me about, but here ‘ I’m better without her. ’ ” “ I quite understand your feeling ; I) haven’t told me why I’m lucky not t her for my ‘hgstess tlnlege‘cpld nighps.” “O you’d be comfortable enough now to- bacco is cut; but when Cousin Billy staid with her, a good many years ago, he used to complain of being coldâ€"he was only a. boy»â€" and ask her for blankets, and she would hold Th?) conversation which followed was an interesting one, of course. Let us listen to it. “The vines are all killed by the frost,” said Cousin Sudie. “ Yes ; you have frost here earlier than I thought,” said Robert. “ 0 we always expect frost about the 10th of October ; at least the gentlemen never feel safe if their tobacco isn’t out by that time. This year frost was late for us, but the nights are getting Yery ‘cgql II‘OW, a’n't they;2 ” It thus happened that there was no opporâ€" tunity for the resumption of the interesting conversation interrupted by Dick, until the middle of the forenoon next day. Miss Sudie, it seems, found it necessary to go into the garden to inspect some late horticultural op- erations, and Mr. Robert, quite accidentally, followed her. They discussed matters with Uncle Joe, the gardner, for :1. time, and then wandered ofl' towards a summer-house, where it was pleasant to sit in the soft November sunlight. ' in the habit of going to sup er when it was ready, and it never enterer the thou ht of either to act differently on this particu ar oc- casion. Miss Sudie, it is true, ran up to her room for a momentâ€"t0 brush her hair I pre- sumeâ€"before she entered the dining room, but otherwise they both acted very much as they always did, except that Robert address- ed almost the whole of his conversation dur- ing the meal to his Aunt Mary and Aunt Catherine, while Miss Sudie, sitting there be- hind the tea-tray, said nothing all all. After tea the older ladies sat with Robert and Su- die in the parlor, until the early bed-time prescribed for the convalescent young gentle- man arrived. All this he thought as he drank his tea ; for when supper was announced both he and Miss Sudie went into the (lining-room precise] as if their talk in the parlor had not been 0 no unusual character. This they did because they were creatures of habit, as you and I and all the rest of mankind are. They were The reader thinks, doubtless, that Master Dick’s entrance at the precise time indicated in the last chapter was an unfortunate occur- rence, and I presume Mr. I’agehrook was of a like opinion at the moment. But maturer reflection convinced him that the interrup- tion was a peculiar opportune one. He was a conscietious young man, and was particu- larly punctilious in matters of honor ; there- fore, had he been allowed to complete the conversation thus unpreineditatedly begun, without an o portunity to deliberate upon the things to he said, he would almost cer‘ tainly have suffered at the hands of his con- science in consequence. There were circum- stances which made some explanations on his part necessary, and he knew perfectly well that these explanations would not have been properly made if Master Dick’s interruption iad not come to give him time for reflection. Before he could add a. word to the blunt (lcclnratiunj I)kk>iflu‘uat his biggpk him] imch the doorway with the announcement, “ Sup- per’s ready." Mr. Robert Pagchreok gas wholly unused to the task of soothing a. woman in tears. It was hishahit, under all circumstance, to do the thing proper to be done, but of what the proper thing was for a man to do or say to a woman in tears without apparent cause, Mr. Robert l’agebrook had not the faintest conâ€" ception, and so he very unreasonably pro- ceeded to take her hand in his and to tellher that he loved her,a fact which he himself just then discovered for the first time. Now it would seem tfat CBusin Sudie’s re- joicing must have been of a. singular sort, as she very unreasonably burst into tears while iu‘the very act of declaring herself glad. “ Ewing told me this evening. I‘d rather you’d have killed a. dozen horses than to have had Charley Harrison beat you." “ \Vhy, Cousin Sudie ‘? " “ 0 he’s at the bottom of all this. He al- ways is. Fo gy is his mouth-piece. And then he to] Aunt Catherine, the day you went to The Oaks, that he ‘ meant to have some fun when he got you into a fox-hunt on \Vinger’s colt.’ He said you’d find out how much your handsome city riding-school style was worth when you got on a horse that you were afraid of. I’m so glad you beat him." “ How do you know all this, Cousin Sudie asde Robert. “Well, Promise me first that you won’t get yourself into any trouble about itâ€"no I have no right to exact a blind promiseâ€"but don’t get yourself into trouble. That deâ€" testable man, Foggy Raves, made Mr. \Vin- ger uneasy about the money. He told him you were ‘ hard up’ and couldn’t pay if you wanted to ; and I’m glad you have paid him, and I’m glad you beat Charley Harrison in the fox-chase, too." \Vith this {ltterly inconsequent conclusion, ‘ousin Sudie commenced rocking violently 111 her chair. “You surprise me, Cousin Sudic. Pray tell me what you know, and how." “ He was not pressed for the money at all. That wasn’t the reason. - u a “ You know why? ’ ‘here was some rea‘ son then besxdes his need of money.” “ I ought not to tell you, but I must now or you w111 ima ine uncomfortable things, ‘I know why M r. avinger 31mm you that note." “I do not understand you. Surely you never doubted that I wOuld pay for the horse, did you ? " 5 “ No, indeed, butâ€"fl" “ \Vhat is it Cousin Sadie? tell me what there is in your mind. I shall feel hurt if you do not. ” There must have been something in her tone, as there was certainly nothing in her words, which led Mr. Pagebrook to think that this young lady’s remark had an unex- presscd meaning bqu of it. He therefore questioned her. h “ \Vhy, Cousin Sudie, had it been troubling you too ‘3 ” “No; but it would have done so, I reckon.” “So am I,” said [his companion, very glal iudee< ." “I amglad t7) get that business off my hands. It worried me,” he said. resumed, but a pair of reveries never are. Had Mr. Robert been alone he would have rearranged the fire and then sat down to his thoughts again. As it was he arranged the fire and then began to talk with Miss Sudie. \VHAT OCCURRED NEXT MORNING (TAAP’I‘ER XVI but you to have A)" If farmers’ families have the good sense to dress with simplicity, and choose plain arti- cles of furniture that are not too good for daily use and comfortâ€"if they know enough to live on plain substantial good, with home- raised fruit served plainly but plentifully, in- stead of cake and pie, if among the necessa- ries of life they reckon good books and pn- pers, they need not be so badly over-worked as they often seem, nor lead such lean poor lives intellectually. As for the social isola- tion, this is sometimes to be deplored, but it makes all the difference in the world wheth- er it is a loving, happy, improving kind of family set by itself upon the farm, or a sel- fish, growling, ignorant set of people. The quiet of the farm is one of its chief attractions for me. There are few farms so isolated that our friends cannot fingl us there, and they who show themselves friendly will have friends. Child life on the farm may have a wider range of wholesome experiences than child life in almost any other situation. Stock kindly cared for and potted, trees thoughtful- ly planted and tended, fruit well selected and cultivated, vegetables raised with a pur- pose and with thou ht about their habits and uses, flowers lovin y sown and gatheredâ€" all these are who esome in their influence upon the youthful mind, and furnish a kin- dergarten of the best kind. Farmers’ chil- dren who are not over-worked, and whose book education may seem to be neglected, often make excellent scholars when they go to school or college, and go with robust health gained from their. early training on the farm. L If the farmer has children, he must remem- ber that their proper care is the most impor- tant business of their arents, and it is a great folly or gross wic edness, for him to carry on work that is injurious to them, work that keeps himself and his wife constantly anxious and hurried. If he slaves himself and wife, and the children too, as they grow old enough to be yoked to his business, for the sake of having plenty of money for his chil- dren to spend in coming years, he is a very foolish man; but if he is simply bound to get rich, and does not care how much it hurts his wife and children, he is a very wicked man. If the children are not well brought up, they will only squander the money so so hardly earned. doing it. In fact, it depends mainly upon the husband. By proper consideration, he can generally save his wife from undue labor â€"â€"at least he can do so as well as other men, for I think that it is almost impossible for husbands in average circumstances, at the present stage of civilization, to give the mothers of their children as easy and plea- sant homes as all mothers ought to have, for the sake of the human race ; this, however, is a matter of public concern quite as much as of private duty, and it is a business in which society and the individual must co- operate. Farmers' wives are not necessarily over- worked more severely than other house- kee ers. This depends u on the kind of war done on the farm, an the facilities for ’ Farmers’ Families , Qniwouhlsnmmse from much that is writ- ten, that farmers’ families were to be )itied ‘above all others. Is this so? ls the lot of ‘ the farmer’s wife nccssarily lonesome and dreary? Arc farmer’s children more abused than other children ?â€"I can not see that such is the case. \Vith a good husband and chil- dren, I would rather take the risks of farm life in any comfortable part of the country, than to undertake any other kind of life I have had a chance to try or observe. No po- sition is exempt from troubles and tempta- tions, but for a family of little children, 8. seems to me the safest place. And yet everyâ€" thing “ depends upen circumstances,” and if the children take no interest in the farm or country objects, and if parents take less inâ€" terest in the children’s daily happiness and growth than money-making, the case is a hard one for all concerned. I have lived in city, village and country, and nothing suits me so well as the farm. In this the whole family are agreed. At present agricultural papers and catalogues are voted among the most interesting of literature, and there is a never-failing interest in the growth of every- thin upon the place. I shall not tell what smafi business our present farming is ; it is i all that we can mana e just now, and looks i likely to increase wit 1 the passing years. i The reader would be very ill nmnnered in- deed should he listen further to a conversa- tion which was wholly rivate and confiden- tial in its character .’ w erefore let us close our ears and the chapter at once. The little womah felt Wonderfully brave just then, and accordingly, without further ado, she cgmmongqq to cry. " I suppose that would be the proper way, according to custom ; but,” raising her eyes fearlessly to his, “ I have already made up my mind, and I don’t want to act a false- hood. There is nothing to be ashamed of, I suppose, in frankly loving such a. man as you, Robert. I will be your wife." “ Cousin Sudie," he said, ” have on thought about what I said to you ast night? " “ Yesea little. ” “ I will not ask you just yet what you have thought,” said Robert, taking her unresisting hand into his, “because there are some ex- planations which I am in honor bound to make to you before asking you to ’ve me an answer, one way or the other. W ien I told l you I loved you, of course I meant to ask you to be ;my wife, but that I must not ask you until you know exactly what I am. I want you to know procisely what it is that I ask on to do. I am a poor man as you know. I ave a good position, however, with a salary of two thousand dollars a year, and that is ‘ more than suflicient for the support of a fam- ‘ ily, particularly in an inexpensive college town ; so that there is room for a little con- stant accumulation. If I marry I shall insure my life for ten thousand dollars, so that my death shall not leave my wife destitute. I have a very small reserve fund in bank tooâ€" thirteen hundred dollars now, since I paid for that horse. And there is still three hun- ‘dred dollars due me for last year’s work. These are my means and my prospects, and I now tell you again, Sudie, that I love you, and I ask you bluntly will you marry me 2’ " The young lady said nothin . "lf you wish for time to tIiink about it, Sudie~â€"” This, lubelieve, is a faithful report of what passed between Robert and Sudie in the sum- mer-house. I am very well aware that they on ht to have talked of other things, but they (ll1§11()t; and, as a faithful chromcler, I can only state the facts as they occurred, begging the reader to remember that I am in no way responsible for the conduct of these young people. The cabbage experiment duly ex- plained and admired, Mr. Robert and Miss Sudie walked out of the arden and into the house. There they foum themselves alone again and Robert plunged at once into the matter of which both had been thinking all the time. up her hands and exclaim: ‘Why, child, your Uncle’s tobacco isn‘t out yet; it will never do to say it’s cold enough for blankets when your poor Uncle has not got his tobacco cut. Think of your Uncle, child! he can’t afford to have his tobacco all killed.’ But come, Cousin Robert, yon mustn’t sit here; besides I want to show you an experiment I am trying with winter cabbage.” AGRICULTURAL NOTES. [TO m: CONTINUEDJ “ Stop, 01' you’fi be sayin more than you may wish. There is somet iug you can do â€"something that will repay me a thousand times over, and make me the happiest man “ I’m sure if there is any favor we can do you, we shall onl be too glad toâ€"to oblige so kind a friend,’ I began. “ I can never feel grateful enough for 1111â€"" “ Miss Gedge, I’ve come on an errand that makes me nervous. I’ve walked up to your door three times to-night before I dared to knock, and now I’ve got in I ’ve hardly cour- age to say what I want to say. The fact is, when a man has got a. favor to ask, he doesn’t know well how to begin, especially if he’s a man of few words," Here Mr. Fleetwood stogped, and an awk- wqr«1._1)allse epguqd. \Ve find in a recent novel a. modeof “pop- pmg the question ” so singular in its way it Is worth preserving : Miss Ge de a11§wers a tap at the front door, and er lover, Mr. Fleetwood, proves to be the visitor. me‘ DUMI’LINGS. â€"â€"After making up your bread the second time, take off a sufficient quantity for dumplings, and set it away un- til an hour before dinner, then make them up in rolls as you would biscuit; sprinkle a little flour over your pie-board, and put them on it, far enough at )art to allow for raising. Have ready a boi or with sufficient boiling water to steam them, place the steamer over it, and put in some of the dumplings, so as not to touch each other, (see that the lid is placed on tightly,) and let them remain ten minutes ; then remove them and put in others. Send them to the table hot, to be eaten with cream and sugar. A LARGE stick of cypress timber will rot off cypress tenons, or tenons of any other kind of timber (if ut together when the cypress is (freon), if e 1; under shelter, Cypress will dry rot itse f, if over 15 or 18 inches square ; and green oak of any kind, 12 inches square, will rot a dry 1:} inch pin of the same wood, or a pin of any other wood, if dry, and driven tight to exclude all air. PAINT intended for outside work, which will not be protected by varnish, is mixed as follows : Crush the color if in lumps, and mix to a. still paste with linseed oil, belled or raw â€"the latter is preferable ; then, if a dark color, atld brown Japan or gold size, in the roportion of a} pint to a, gallon of oil ; in a. iglit color2 use pat-cut dryer in similar quan- tities. VARNISH BRUSHES should never be allowed to touch water, as it not only injures the elasticity of the hair, but a. resinous sub- stance is formed in the hilt of the brush, which can never be thorou hly removed, and which will work out little iy little when the brush is used, destroying the glassy surface which otherwise might be obtained. A skillful Sawyer, in sawing a log into scautling, which he knows will -spring, will first mark off the ends into cuts ; and then, after sawing once throu h on one side of the log, will saw a slab 0 ' the other side, and finish in the middle. By this means the lum- ber will be about as true as if the timber were not inclined to spring at all. HORSES will work much more easily, and lose less of their effective force, by working abreast, than when they are placed in single file. If four horses are to draw a. load in one wagon, it is better to have a long double whifiletree, with a span of horses on each side of the tongue, than to have one span placed before the other. LEMON J ELLY.-â€"â€"Soak an hour, in 2; int of cold water, one box of elatine; ta e the juice of five lemons, rim? of one, and one pound of sugar. Add these together, and turn on a. quart of boiling Water. Strain through it cloth, and set in moulds to con- geal. Put in a cold place, and let it stand over night. EXTRA NICE CREAM PIE.â€"~â€"F0r the crust, three eggs ; six and half cups flour ; one do. sugar; one-half teaspoonful cream tartar; one-quarter do. soda. Bake this on two plates, placing the following inside : Two eggs ; one-half cup flour; one-half cu sugar ; one pint milk ; one-half teaspoonful emon. CHIMNEYS are excellent lightning conduc- tors. In view of which, it is recommended : First, that they be kept clean ; then, that all the grates in a house be connected by means of a. strong wire, such as is used for telegraph purposes, with a. piece of metal in the earth, 01- with the iron gag or water pipes. lVlOLASSEs‘ (Joannaâ€"70110 cup of lard ; two and a half cups of molasses; two teaspoon- fuls soda ; two eggs ; one teaspoonful alum ; one cup of sweet milk. New Orleans mo- lasses makes nicer cakes than any other. \ Unless the surface of the ground is mulch- ‘ ed around young trees over an area of six to ten feet in diameter, the ground should be kept clean and mellow. Every farmer knows that a hill of corn or potatoes will not amount to much unless cultivated, and yet there are many who will neglect to give the same care to a tree which is worth a hundred hills of either of them. In rich soils, trees may grow rapidly without cultivation, and no amount of grass or weeds will retard them ; but there are other things besides growth to be looked after. If the weeds and grass are allowed to grow up around the stems of apple, peach, or quince trees, the bark will become soft around their base by being shaded, and there- by be in a. suitable condition for the recepâ€" tion of the e gs which will eventually become peach or aplfie borers. Take any dozen young apple trees in the sections where the apple- borer is abundant, and allow a portion to be choked with weeds and the remainder well cultivated, and then watch the result. From our own experience, we believe that the chances are nine to one in favor of those cul- tivated being exempt from this pestâ€"Wes- tern Farmer. Odd Way of Popping the Question. I should be glad, if there were space, to describe experiments in which it is most con- clusively shown that when rich nitrogenous and non-nitrogenous foods together, are mix- ed with hay and coarse foods, the latter suf- fer little or no ‘loss in digestion. A great many feeding trials have been made in Ger- many, to determine in what proportions dif- ferent food materials may be mixed to secure economy in feeding. It seems from the experiments described, that if~we feed any considerable quantities of these with clover, there will be some loss, with the better qualities of hay more, while with poor hay, straw, and cornstalks, the case will be still worse, for they contain very lit- tle nitrogen. It would be very wrong, how- ever, to give up the use of roots on that ground. The proper course is rather to use them so as to get all the benefit that can come from their use, and have little or no waste. This can bedone. Indeed it is done contin- ually. The method has? been re eatediy pointed out, to wit : Use potatoes, eets, or other roots, with hay, straw, or other coarse 1 fodder ; but at the same time feed oil-cake, bran, bean-meal, or malt-sprouts, eta, each one of which contains considefiable albumi- noids, and each will add needed food ele- ments, and enable the animal to digest and use a much larger part of the coarser hay, stawt etc. What is to be Done with Potatoes and Roots. Mellow Soil Around Trees. USEFUL RECEIPTS. THE Stein monument, in memory of the. minister who organized the resistance against Napoleon 1., will be inaugurated on the 26th inst. at Berlin. Its cost is about $40,000. It is well known that the immense height of that portion of the moon which is turned toward the earth, not only through the well known laws of gravitation, keeps that por- tion of her surface presented toward us but also renders it uninhabitahle. It is supposed that the side turned from us may have an at- mosphere suitable for an animal life, and that intelligent beings observing the halo of light shed around its horizon by reflections from the earth, may have taken this means to ascertain the cause. Some ingenious de- vice to place a mirror at a height where an- imal life could not be sustained, was the result. It is to be hoped that this discovery may lead to others in regard to our inter- esting satellite. A most remarkable discovery is reported from the astronomical observation estab- lished by the Russian Government several years ago at Pamlateska, the highest point, with one exception, on the Himalayan range. For several months a peculiar bright spot had been discovered, shining from the ex- treme edge of the moon’s disk, at a point where no mountains break the continuity of its perimeter. This light suddenly dis- appeared and remained invisible for nearly twelve months. It has lately reappeared in greater brilliancy than ever, and the immense power of the telescope attached to the above observatory, so well known to the scientific world, has developed the fact that lthe light proceeds from some huge burnished substance acting as a mirror, which must be at least 100 feet in diameter. The most astonishing thing in the matter is the almost complete proof that this is actually a mirror of artificial construction, and the theory of the savans at Painlatcska, that it is erected for observations of a scientific character, principally to ob- serve the phases of the earth’s surface. Then the father came in triumph to the archbishop to announce the successful issue of the scheme. One by one the youths had plucked up courage, and peeped through the tendrils of the vines, and thanks to some magnetic sympathy, two dark eyes had been simultaneously misedto meet theirs, and they smiled at each other. A little further on the green leaves were fluttered by :1 whisper ask- ing the fair one's name. She told it, and an- other whisper told his. So the flower blos- somed in thirty young hearts, and the priest and the sister who watched the gentle growth ' looked on delighted. DO‘V “Have alittle patience, my lord, and it will come in good time,” replied the father. en‘cguragingly. Next 71337 {he two hands youths sallied forth again aniso cy‘gry _day for a. week ‘ ‘ Alas ! Mouseigeur, they did not even look at each other,” replied the disconsolate matchmaker. ” They never raised their eyes from their work. Sister Câ€" and I watch- ed them like lynxes.” “You have" brought up the children too well, my good father," cried the archbishop, in despair. “ “’hat is to be done with them “ “fell,” said M gr. de la Vigerie t0 the pre- siding father, the next day, “has the young men chosen each his maiden, and is the choice approved ‘?:’ ’l‘he Superior replied that she had precise- ly the number requiredâ€"girls who must leave the shelter of the convent in a few months, and whom she was most anxious to see provided for. The grapes were ripe and and the vintage which was close at hand, would furnish an opportunity for a meeting between the parties. So one morning, in the cool, sweet dawn, they set out to the vine- yard, the maidens conducted by a sister, the youths by one of the priests. The latter took one side and culled the grapes, while at the other side the maidens gathered up the branches and bound them in bundles. As they went they sang hymns and canticles, and when the day’s task was done they left the vineyard in two distinct bands, as they had come, and returned to their separate convents. A bend of fifteen couples were lately mav- ried from the (hphanage of Ben Akuonn. The fathers informed the archbishop that they had fifteen excellent boys, who were about to leave and whom they wished to find wives for and settle in the nearest Christian village. The archbishop asked the Sn erior of the girls’ school if she could supply ifteen maidens who would go and share the humble homes of their brother orphans. Mall [From the Troy Press.] I was out driving recently, and a few miles from here two men in a. swamp by the side of ‘ the road, who seemed to be crazy, to judge ‘ from their movements. I watched them from the carriage some time, and finally made up my mind they were fishing, but how they could find water enou h to fish in I could not imagine. Finally called out to them, “ \Vhat are you doing there ‘3” “ Come and see,” one of them shouted back. I hitched my horse and picked my Way over the hogs to them. They were catching frogs. They would strike them with clubs where they could reach them, but the most of them they caught with a wire “ snare. ” They had a large basketful, more than a, hundred pounds, they said, and I guess they told the truth. One of them said he made a good deal of money catchinY frogs for the New York market. He san that in one month last season he caught 1,600 pounds of dressed frogs, for which he got thirty cents a. pound. making $480 for his month’s work. Part of the time he had two boys to help him. Last week, near Hudson, he said he caught up- ward of five hundred pounds, and sold them for $160, or at an average of thirty-two cents a. pound. These stories seemed to me in- credible, and yet he assured me it was the truth. He can clear twenty-eight cents a pound, he says easily, He seemed to be an honest man, and, from the ease with which they caught the frogs, I was led to believe that he had not stretched the truth much, if “ If you Uwish me to go, do sit as you sit now, with your face turned from me ; but if you only find it hard to say the word I want to hear, just lift up the bit of sea-weed there on the table by your side, and I’ll know what you mean, Dorothy.” v The words were‘uttercd in a voice full of feeling. I looked up into the manly, modest face bending over me, andâ€"really I can’t say whether I lifted up the sea-weed or not. Love-Making Among Arab Converts. “i oughtu’t t0 have blurted it out like tha ," said Mr. Fleetwood, in an uneasy voice. “I hope you’re not offended with me [In I was still silent. But it was from emo‘ tion, not anger or indifference. For I had sat down and covered my face with my hands, and I’m afraid I was begin- nin to sob. It; had come upon me so sud- den y. alive. You‘ll think mu very abrupt, I’m afraid; but I want tn know if you’ll marry me? I’ll make you a good and faithful hus- band by God’s help, if you’ll have me, Don otlly. There, I’ve done it now, and a pretty mess I've made of it I" THE YORK HERALD Terms:â€"-0m Dollar per Annual in Adam: >UBLISHED AT THE OFFICE M. Tecfv_ E Issued Weekly on Friday Morning. A Mirror in the Moon. YONG]: Sax, chnmoxn HILL ALEX. SCOTT, Pnomnrron. The Frog Trade. WHOLE N0 901. of maidens and to the vineyard,