Newspaper Page Text
IpOX*.
.1 iWfjl,
HK- (**
B [For the Citizen.]
r< \S rr tionatcly inscribed to theme*
mory of Miss L C. Jones.
B ’ Vi - tiiese ?acl notes tU.it now,
-•! n.iigh i hundred hearts anil
MB'*” t! u* s4Crfl ’ ‘Vails ; anil is it so?—
HB K (hi; b*.r 1 -ivoil form, nevermore
v light, and airy tread
B■ ~ „, t c u;sic halls ? A low, sad wailing
.. •>* throitgli the gloomy aisles, which
B - ,back th” ihatnal echo — lurcnnore —
BT ~r , lt rr, rdtntle**, monster Death !
H f, jii, r i” -ft at naught the skill
...an;! turck the grief
0 cijlitl;- o’er thy sad victim's
tijtdtsptiring vigils keep.
j..iigtitful (eoU is human woe,
■ .. nu ( boa Jes one redeemiu* trait, —
B I._ „ usll . l,y Iliee displayed, In culling
.'j.rtjt. sweetest (low ers. Thou dost no
. ,hoi—iH’ sympathetic fitting
H , wi'i.ii, thy icy breast. A sister’s
of iChoolmati'S dear,-- the groans,
■ I . , . t p r ,v. r-, iueatiied forth from lips, mo/ <f
fm i stay thy da 1 1,
- ar away, might once more,
B ( ;e th"'” beaming eyes, ere yet their
But Ood hath spoken, and we,
H ] ;.f t „ir or” lining cye>, and bleeding hearts
K |i.,, t! i lied say —“Thy will be done’’
■ Xhe'* gone —
. l ; .-arth.- but her mek virtues ever will
B t uia s place most sacred in our iiieiii’riei
ner sciiimlntates, ever kind, to her teachers,
■ aaliuiH, always, with ready willingness
Hi U i!..), their gentle mandates to obey.
•>> fair is t,ie of the Ta,c >
H :i .| m-wlest as the blue-eyed violet,
its head so unassumingly,
H. s.-arcely to be seen, but so softly
H tl l i'aliay air, that—“spring is eomc” ;
H , r , yet the summersuu is gleaming,
H ir,"')- ami withers upon the bosom
Me..::: r earth. She, too, hath faded
M „ur view, in her young iife's joyous spring,
H - j,t die hand of time a wreath tiad twined
K r i.er gulden hair, from the fairest (lowers,
Hr ~’ _-.tr peeped forth thro’ (lie trelliced vines,
i wreathe the summits of life’s sunny hills,
v .oft, -weet voice will nevermore he heard
iiwriiiiig's dawn, or swell, again with ours,
silent eve, in singing vesper hymns;
there is one fond hope to w hich we cling,
it wlitn our earthly task is done—that she
Hwiiouft, with us, in penitential prayer,
B 1 knelt, may j” u again in hymning praise,
BTtirough endless days, fast by the throne of Gcd.
I,.
For the Georgia Citizen.
t, i ji e k .
B ’ n I'S'tf of the long summer day,
B' ’ cheerily trilling my lay.;
Hl'T the bright spell of beauty each feeling and thought
o; uiv heart, hath with happiness fraught.
Tii rigtit spell of beauty which young smiling May
Hath wrought since her magical sway,
i x woodlands with fairy creations hath filled
v l with melodies Winter had stilled.
1 wamli r for long hours, and lingeringly gaac
bn Hit g tea earth, till Eve's golden hare,
i a mantle of glory enveloping falls
the silence of Nature’s vast halls,
taler oft where the flowers in reveriss deep.
Like spirits of beauty asleep,
“,;l.levt painted visions their bright fleeting day,
th existence are; dreaming away.
Ad I list■■ i; to low-whispered soul-thrilling notes,
Is • irthward bound breere liglitly floats,
’*!’ its burden of echoes adowu from the spheres,
Ant above me its winged course nears.
Bat oftener 1 sit in my home-light's soft beams.
’it dreaming my own happy dreams;
■'ail a:i atmosphere bright round my spirit they wreaths
i as heavenly, blessed ones breathe.
!).: ,i world ol deep beauty, a world of my own,
I have to all others unknown ;
AH a witchery sweeter than fragrance of flowers
ilmgs ita .-pell o’er uiy Kdeu-bright bowers.
a region of bli_s is this song realm of mine,
“i'li the heavenly vicious which shine
la the roft golden light of its clear azure skits,
*- we the dreamy Kve’s shadowy dyes.
vuuhinot for treasures of laud or of sea,
bi'-• this world where I roam fancy free ;
’ r 1 know it on Karth an Kiysium there be,’
! 1- A >•; that it smileth for me. RL TH.
l*L li iS %\ y !OK US.
I n.uiant Avoids ate as an honey combt
Al ' ui tn the suit), and health to the ’
frov. xvi: 24.
‘htiij- truths the wie man gives
do lus aous and daugiiteis,
l -!ul jiuept. and stivttg, and blight.
As ‘reams of lit mg waters;
cat one I diose from ail tlie i>et,
Aud call it now the a cry best. i
1 ieusout words, lie aays, arc like
A Comb of Fragrant honey,
I im savings’ bank of thriving bees,
W hose cells contain tlit-ir money,
Per*- they, in little space, lay up
liie gains of many a tiowery cup.
TWect to the soul. ” they gently soothe
in days of bitter anguish;
Heath to the bones, they cheer the sick, |
And lid the heads tiiat languish;
Aud prove in every state anil mood,
A quiet way of doing good,
het us. then, ask God to plant
lb u Ins ttowers of beauty.
Aud teach us to watch over them
With humble patient duty.
>"’eet tioivers that grace the heart of youth,
hove, meekness, Gentleness and truth,
for, as honey is not found
Where the tlowers are blowing,
*so, unless within our hearts
hove aud truth are growing,
Xo one on our lips “dll find
Pleasant words, sincere and kind,
hut. unlike the fragile tlowers,
Vi ho die as soon as ever
hay have given their honey up,
liie more that we endeavor
h> lavish kindness everywhere,
Hie more we still shall have to spare.
1 feasant words! Oli. let us strive
To use them very often ;
Other hearts they will delight,
Aud our own they'll soften;
hile God himself will hear above,
1 feasant words of truth and love.
Pleasant words! The river’s wave
That ripples every minute
n >i the shore wo love so well,
Hath not such music in it:
are the songs of breeze or birds
Half so sweet as pleasant words.
editor out West says—‘lf we have of
ended any man in the short but brilliant
Course of our public career, let him send us
a hew hat, and say nothing more about it
i IHlsttHniii),
[For (lie Citizen.]
l-ctn es from 111.1 itiai-y.
BY I GIKKLOAV.
’ I ortce stood oil a high luo’iitfaiir, and gazed
into a beautifnt idirntd-, iilfo a fioli, fruitful
: region, full of forests aud hills, seas and fields; ‘
: while, at a laither distance, hi-ii A-en-towering
masses intei-pei etl the interminable ocean.
And the rays of the setting -un uudnlated :
! over the country, while a gentle doud of light
[loured over the sinlace. And I was seized
with an inexpressible longing for the prox
imity ol that fulness, which lay before me, as
a heavenly blessing, .ill P : otle<3 1 felt a soft
rustling: and a breathing froth the (J-od.
\\ hose spirit hovered over the earth, came
nearer and nearer towards me. And the in
finite blessing of the infinite love filled my
soul—all. which in lire wide distance had en
raptured the vision, approached me and pass-
A’u near unto me, and iu an inexpressibly
heavenly embrace I enjoyed the infinite fill- 1
ness, and possessed it, and retained it. And
I felt exceedingly happy.
\ ears have since then passed away,—O
that I might forget them, these dark years!
in “nicli lite at last became to me a narrow*
prison, and nature a gloomy winter's daw
which ice-cold shivered down in the prison
to me. A hearty longing did often in these
years seize me, again to ascend that high
mountain ami to gaze out into that infinite
world. At times I succeeded in ascending it
and in easting the free eye over the free re
gion. And there it still lav, the blooming
land, full of forests and hills, seas and fields,
uid at a farther distance licaveii-toAveriii°
masses and tic- interminable ocean; aud still
the lays of the setting sun undulated over the
country, and covers it with a gentle flood of
light. .But in vaiudid I await the breathing
of the Deity and the inexpressible nearness.
And mournfully I descended from the height,
bitterly bewailing the departure of my youth.
Ol what use is contemp’ation now to me?—
The heavenly enjoyment is no longer there.
* * * *
How it affects me to see a fellow-being
suffer on account of tetnjuoral disappoint
ments, amt give himselfovet To a life-destroy
ing despair. Truly, it is a poor comfort to
one who lias to bear a bitter fate, to tell him.
that others have to suffer as much as he. It
is hard to suffer, but it would be dreadful to
see therein a common lot ol’ humanity; iu
which ease the burden would rest upon me
with the immense pressure ol an inevitable
fate.
No conviction is clearer t*> me, than the
one, which makes it evident, that I am my
self like cause of all my misery. It is a deep
teiling within me that tells rue this; and it is
a liberal feeling, by means of which I alone
cherish the consciousness of a deeper life,
which, perhaps, may one day break forth in
me.
[For the Citizen.]
The liniioui.
BY JOHN G 1 fc R L O W .
If a pci sou, who pries into the characters
of others, with no other design but todiseor
er their faults and to publish them to the
world, deserves the title of a slanderer of the
reputation of men. why should not the envi
ous, who ac t - on the same malevolent princi
ple, be considered as the abject -lave of vice?
l es, society produces not a more odiou
vermin, than the envious —the very counter
part of the slanderer. *Tlie wuilil does not re
gard this utoiester with halt the abhorrence
he deserves, than whom, the thief looks 11101 e
innocent.
This denouncement may seem too severe;
but let it here be considered, that emy and
slander proceed from the same wi< ked dispo
sition of mind: and. certain it i that both
arealike void ol the excuse of temptation.
But it i-1* one species of the envious only,
that 1 here ivi-h to allude, namely, the anouy
motiM letter-writer. And, surely, he is to lx*
detested, inasmuch a< it is very evident, that
he is gujlly either of falsehood, ignorance, or
cowardice. When such an one assails the
mail of letters, lie does it. because lie is envi
ous >f the reputation that cannot be reached
by his own limited capacities. And it is to
one of this elasi, that I inscribe the following
lines:
Os all the moßtiera of human kital
What strikes me most is the low etiviou* m.nd.
I wonder how without one liberal joy
The envious being can his years employ.
With honest warmth of heart, with some degree
Os pity that such wretched things should be,
You scorn the sordid knave. —He grins at you,
And deems himself the wiser of the two.
’Tis true he cannot boast an angel’s share,
Yet h is what ItappinesA his org ms bear.
Heaven formed him too, and doubtless for some use, ,
Hot the Knvions knows uot yet all nature’s views.
[For the Citixen.]
Tlie Scliool-Master Abroad.
A TRUE COPY’ OF A LETTER.
Rocky Point, Attala Cos. Mississippi, £
Decern lOtli, 1800 )
■ Miss 11. W., Macou, Georgia— .
Dear Mis.s I see you advertise for a situa
tion as a Teaclieres I follow that occupation
myself, and would like to have an assistant
who is well qualified and full competent to
teach all the branches usually taught in a
high schools and also Msie on Pianno. With
an asstant of that kind I can cleare One thou
sand Dollars per annum, by teaching in this
State. The locality is quittj healthy Society
good. Ido nut want an assistant for a ie”
months or a lew years But I wish to enter
into partnership lor Lift. 1 would radier
have a Lady with an accomplished Educa
tion and no property than a lady with Jacob
! Astor's Estate and She have no Education. —
I am 28 years of uge was raised in Georgia
till 17 years of age since then I have reside
in the western Country, I yni o feet G inches
in hight waigh 150 pounds— ‘have small black
eyes—an oval f tec. very Black hair wear it
long and it. curls in a roll all around my head. !
If you have ever seen the Lawyer i
arid Statesman.of Georgia you can form some ‘
Idea of the kin*! of Eyes I hav e though they
are not so fierce as his—l am called hand
’ some though I never thought so invself. If’
you will correspond with me I “ ill send you
my likene < taken by a good Daguerreati
and you can send me yours, 1 would uot
Marry a Lady* who has seen moi< than 18 ,
. Summers. Y'ours respectfully,
Address (J. V.—A TEACHER.
[From the American Agricultural.]
Fish Ponds I'or Countiy Flares.
AN hile thousands of our fellow-citizens in
town and country are planning and improv
ing their several residences and grounds with
the appliances to make them desirable, we
cannot, perhaps, do them a better service
than to bring to their notice the construc
tion of fish ponds. The winter is a good
time to construct these useful as well as or
namental appendages. NVe observe with
great pleasure tha* the New Y'ork State
Agricultural Society have offered a prize of
8100 for the best essay on the production
and preservation of domesticated fish, for
ponds; and we trust someone of experi
ence and ability will compete for the prize,
that those desirous of having these agreea- •
ble accompaniments to their country places
may profit by the lessons which they may .
thus receive.
The propagation and domestication of fish
is perfectly wiAin the control of any one
having the opportunity, as has been demon
strated by recent practice abroad. For the
construction of ponds, we cannot do a better
service than to give an extract from Allen’s
Rural Architecture, edition of 1854, publish
ed by (\ M. Saxton, of this city.
KISH I’ONDS.
Whatever water in sufficient quantity can
be introduced by a side-cut from a stream,
I)3* damming the stream jts'dfj or by draw
ing it from a large spring, and the face of
the ground in the vicinity of the house can
afford a suitable place, either by inclosing a
natural hollow or ruviue by a dam, or by
excavation, a fish-pond is well worthy the
atUsutiou at u country resident, even fiy
be but a small farmer. As an an ornamen
tal feature of the place, it is of the most
agreeable character; its utility will be un
questioned. The size of the pond is imma
terial, beyond half an acre in area—less it
should not oe—and if it embrace even twen
ty, thirty, or fifty acres, provided the pro
prietor can afford to devote so much land to
that object, it “'ill be all the belter for the
fish. lx*th in numbers and in quality.
The depth of waier may vary—no matter
how deep—but the deepest part should not
be less than ten feet, that there may be a
cool retreat for the fish in summer, and a
warm resting place in winter; and if a
depth to that extent can be made close to
tlie margin on a part ol Ihe boundary, it
will be all the better, as the fish may then
enjoy the overhanging shade of the bank.
The shore should be undulating if possible;
ii regular in its outline, and a part of it sha
ded In* trees and shrubbery, as fish love
shade as well as sunshine. A part of the
shore should be shallow, and shelve off grad
ually into the deep water, and if partially
grown up with rushes, or lying on a smooth
clean sand or gravel, it will accommodate
th different varieties of fi.-h to bed and ,
pawn upon: :<me preferring the shady and
muddy bottom of the 111 li beds, and of hers
the pcbbU', clear and sunny floor of the
pond for that object. The temperature of
the water will vary, according to ils depth
and proxiiiiit y to the shore, lYoin ten to twen
ty degrees at nni’ given time, thus affording
accommodation to different varieties of the
fish which may inhabit it in the various con
ditions of breeding, growth and feeding, as
they are enabled to treat themselves in their
natural haunts in wild waters.
According to the clearness, temperature,
and purity of the water, will depend Ihe se
lections of the kinds of fish which- are to
inhabit it. If the soil forming the bed
of the pond be light, and clean, and sto
ny, and the water be let in from a spring, ,
or a .-pi ing brook of low temperature, the
Speckled Trout, and the cold- water fishes,
which are found in the same liatuaal waters
with them, may be introduced. Y'el, for ,
trout, the wafer should have some current.
They are playful and active fish, and nothing
delights them more than the bubbling water j
of a spring, or the rapid shooth.g v of a;
stream over a rugged bed. Still in cool and j
clear water, a pond will satisfi* them if the i
circulation be such as to avoid stagnation.
The trout, too, love a deep Hole, under a
shaded bank, by the side of a projecting
rock*or beneath the roots of a huge tree.
There the larger ones love to gather, and
from sui'li haunts are the finest specimens
to be drawn with the hook. They love to
spawn in clear eddies, in sunny spots, over
a ston}’ or sandy bed, where their young fry
eau feed upon the aninnilculas and insects
which play about the margin.
! The Yellow Perch, a beautiful and deli
? cions fish, may also be introduced into clear
j and cold water. It is quick and active in its
movements, bites readily at the hook, and
1 prolific. In the spring and the summer sea
son it love to lie among rushes on the mar
i gin of a genti3’ flowing stream or still pond
when it spawns and breeds. The perch wil]
1 thrive in water too warm and sluggish for
, the trout, but like the trout, it loves to re
treat and hide itself under a bank in the
deep shadow during the day.
If the pomls be sufficiently extensive, the
Bass, in its varieties, may he introduced ;
but as the\’ are a much larger fish than the
trout or- the perch they require a better
i depth of water aud a wider rauge for their
MikCOM, C-A. MAY X 7, 1836.
food. The bass is an excellent table fish ; .
and prolific iu the propagation of its kind.
* The Tike might also be added, in clear ,
and cool waters. But it is a voracious, ,
heartless wretch, preying upon every Other
fish of lesser size within its reach, and by
1 its rapid movements enabled to dart and
seize upon everything inhabiting the same
waters from which it cannot escape. A
single pike or two, introduced into a close
pond, has been known, within a few months,
to entirely depopulate it of all other sizable
iish. Although, in its natural haunts, a fish
of excellent quality of flesh, they should
hardly be introduced into the domestic
ponds.
The Yellow Carp (the gold fish) is a beau
tiful creature to throw into the pond. The}’
are not a lish of prey upon its fellow, but
live chiefly on insects and worms. The} r :
may be domesticated like the perch, and fed
from the hand, announced Hy a bell to their
accustomed feeding places in the pond.
When turned out at large, their progen}
will change into silver and brown varieties
of color, while some ol’ them will retain
the deep orange of the originals. On the
whole they are a beautiful and interesting
fish, and should always be introduced into
the pond.
In the dark waters, resting on an oozy or
muddy bottom, the European Carp is a cap
ital and appropriate fish for propagation.
It feeds like the yellow carp, chiefly on wa
ter-worms, and has a “sucker’ mouth, and
grows to the weight of five, ten, or twelve
pounds.
The Mullet is also a good fish and of equal
size to the carp, and when the waters are cold
of the finest flavor for the table. In warm
weather its flesh is apt to become soft and
flavorless. The mullet also takes its food
by suction. It is a fish of exceeding beau
ty, having large scales of most brilliant va
rying shades of silver, purple, and yellow,
which give it an uncommon richness in ap
pearance. These “sucker-mouthed” fish do
not take the hook like the trout, the perch,
or bass, but. may be caught by the net or
spear, as they lie in the shallow water near
the shore, either in the day-time, or by torch
light at night.
The silver Kd may also be pul into the
maddy bottom pond, but when confined,
they make sad havoc with the other fish, as
well as with young ducks and goslings, if
they are permitted to swim in it. Although
a migratory fish, they will remain in eon
lined waters, but they have too many disa
greeable qualities in their social relations to
be the companions of the better fish that we
have named.
In all waters where edible lish are kept,
smaller varieties should be introduced, as the
Chub, the 81111 Fish or Roach, the Dace, the
Shiner, the Smelt, and the Minnow; they
are prolific in breeding, and furnish abund
ant food for the Bass, the Trout, and the
Perch, which fatten upon them. The larger
of these yield the finest of sport to the chil
dren, with their pin hooks and thread lines
if they have no better. The” arc a ni*-e pan
fish also, batin'; the multitude of their bone <;
’ 0 ’ |
but fried to a crisp they are seldom in the
way. In stocking anew pond, a sufficient
variety of both the smaller and the larger
kinds should be introduced, so that a fail
trial may be had with each, and such as the
waters best suit will ultimately become the
chief tenants of the domain ; but if Pike
and E<l be introduced, let them by all
means be put. in together and alone, to feed
upon frogs and lizards, or each other as
chance and might may govern. Asa rule,
however, the small fry should have posses
sion of the waters for at least one year in
! advance, that they may multiply ton suffi
cient extent to supply partial foot! to the
larger ones'; aud as they spawn and keep
in the shallowest water.. they will thus pro
pagate in sufficient abundance to prevent a
future scarcity when their more voracious
fellow lodgers are introduced.
In ponds of sufficient extent, fish may be
kept and propagated to profit, aside from
supplying the family with so great a luxury
in food as fresh fish are usually esteemed.
They may be fed with the offal meats of the
slaughter-house or the farm, or with balls of
flour or meal, boiled or baked. They may
be called to a particular point of the pond to
feed at regular hours, if they become accus
tomed to it. Such extra feeding will give
them an earlier and increa-cd growth, and
having less need to prey upon the smaller
j fish, the stock of course will be largely iu
-1 creased.
The feeding and care of iish will also be a
source of pleasure and amusement to the
, members of the family, and while away many )
an hour of leisure or idleness that might
otherwise tempt away the younger ones to
resorts of dissipation or vice. Tu short,
aside from its useful objects, we would have
the iisli-pond, as we would the dovecote or
the rabbitry, to give pleasure and variety to
the farm, and to cluster around it all the en
dearments with which life in the country
should be surrounded.
To give the fish-pond its most ornamental
features as an object of interest or beauty,
it should be partially clothed with trees and
shrubs. In trees we would select the soft or
water maples, the willows, the water or
black ash. the birch, and the lowland poplar
111 the way f shrubbery, the black abler
1 [lie wild rose, and the osieryvillow, make a
beautiful fringe to a water margin. A cer
tain expression of wildness should be given
to the pond, where it is of any size, aud if it
have some hidden nooks and recesses diffi
cult to approach from the shore, it will be
1 all the better. Fisli love seclusion. Indeed
a pond haunted on every side by the foot of
man, or the tread of animals, is but an in
, different spot for their welfare, and the more
I it can resemble, in outward appearance and
keeping, the wild water of the river and
lake, or the natural pond, the more conge
nial will it be to the tastes aud hltbits of the
fish, and of course more profitable to the 1
proprietor.
It is scarcely necessary to add that the
pond Should have ah outlet of sufficient
capacity to let. off its surplus water, and be
thoroughly secured against accident in burst
ing away, as an occurrence of this kind
might, in a few hours destroy the labor and
solicitude of years.
[From the X. O. Crescent, April 28.]
Editorial Life.
One of the subjects frequently alluded to,
but little known—of great importance, and
of some, though not sufficient esteem, is that
one with which we have prefaced these re
marks —the life editorial.
In a country like our own, where tlie news
paper is, perhaps, the most omnipotent and
omnipresent of all agencies—where it stands
a< preacher, chronicler, friend, politician, agent,
king and judge; rewarding the good, punish
ing the bad; encouraging progress, and sta
ting the path and the goal ol that progress—
it has the highest crown of any in tlie royal
congress of labor. That it is without re
|
proai-h. no one “ ill assert. There are bad
men, who subvert it to the lowest purposes;
ambitious men, who direct it to mere politi
cal or pecuniary objects; insane men, who
direct it towards what is impracticable and
unattainable, as well as to what is undesira
ble. But the rule, by the verdict of that great
jury which comprises our whole country and
all of our countrymen—aye, even by the j
world at large—has been endorsed; so that
now it is honorable, as well as responsible, and
as influential as it is powerful. The very
men who transform il from its true intents,
and wrench il into wrong, pay the homage
vice must, ever render virtue, in so doing.
If ail individual lias made a grand discov
ery in mechanics, in philosophy, or in any
other department ol learning, what is his first
step lmt to secure the herculean agency of
the press? If a grand deed has been accom
plished. or a high thought evolved—if pro
gress has been made in any department so
ever, from abstract philosophy to a [latent
rat-trap —the world knows that the discov
erer is never content with Ills laurels, unless
they are placed upon his brow by the press,
ft is. in our grand human democracy, a Ne
mesis to the sinner, but Minerva, with all her
glories, to the good, and a great stay and so
lace to the suffering.
AN hat an illimitable field ui labor i opened
toil; and with how much zeal, how much
ability, honesty and fidelity—through adver
sity, against opposition, without reward—
does it march on towards the mark of its
high calling; like an olden knight, panoplied
all ill steel, whose progress no [tower may
prevent. There i.- suffering in tlie way tor
those hy whom it is served —weak aud wea- .
rv in their evei lasting work, to which that of
Sisyphus was but a prologue and adumbra
tion. There is more than “ eakened nerves,
wearied brain and a down letting of all the
physical agencies; fur a thousand lions, and
dogs ami hyenas lie in his path, watching the
banner-mail as he marches—ready at all
times to besmear his golden standard, though
they may nut lace his trenchant falchion. —
There, is the unending wrestler with the
world, in all the menial and material shape
ill which il call be presented, autl with those
shapes subdivided into per. oual and iriitagu
liislic.ones. Friends inu.'t be defended to the
death, though their thanks are more than
they will repay lor the labor. Foes must be
fought, who will come to the encounter,
armed with every weu[>on. to win theircause;
and when the terrible combat is ended, does
the hero-tigliler lie down to repose aud rest ?
New labors and other contests arc waiting
his taxed [lowers. He turns only to meet a
fresh ibe, on as bitter a field .as the funner,
who must be hurled down by his arm—be
cause the good, easy world, knows that he
Can do ir. and gives no quarter if he yields
once where he has conquered a thousand
.times.
And more is demanded the more is done.
A piece of unseasonable news—ail erroneous
chronicling of one mans given name, or of
one horse’s best time—an inference which,
for want of exact knowledge concerning all
the premises, happens to be wrong—is visit
ed with reproach and severe censure. The
impossibility of perlection below is forgotten,
aud the editor is expected to comprehend all
the virtues, all the graces, all the heroism and
all the goodness of the world. A thousand
merciless censors sit around with jagged sticks,
i to torture him for the slightest failure.
So onward—ever toiling, learning, striving
and seeking to “improve himself arid others,
the editor .goes; crowded hard by importuni
ties always—sometimes slipping, but leaping
manfully to tlie front again, andatn&rchiDg
resolutely, flag and sword in hand, into—the
coffin. And as the clods rattle over him, the
world says: ‘Another editor’s dead—a decent
fellow—wonder who’ll take his place?
Wonder a way ! NViio can fill the vacant
seat?. Not you—nor you—nor you—unkind,
j uncharitable, ungenerous, on whom his life
has been bestowed. For the true editor is
not the thing of a day, but one who has been
taught by time, by thought, by bitter pain
and experience; and the crucible* through
which such go is so severe, that many perish*
in it where one lives—to die.
A learned*writer sa*ys of books, “They
are masters who instruct us without rods or
ferules, without words or anger, without
bread or money. If you approach them
they are not asleep ; if you seek them .they
do upt hide ;.if you blunder they do not scold?
if you are ignorant they do uot laugh at you.”
To cool tlie atmosphere, brag of another
| woman’s good looks before your wife.
Rules for Gardeners.
Have a place for every tool, and never ]
leave it out of its place; have a place leu ev
erything and everything in its place.
Never waste animal or vegetable refuse. ,
The very soap-suds lroui the laundry are rich
manure.
Have all flower jsats washed; dried and
put away as soon as they are empty.
Never fill a pot so full of soil but that it
may hold water enough to go through it;
[tots should have an inch of vacancy above
comjM ist.
Never grow a bad v ariety of anything if
you can help it. It takes the same room,
and wants the same attention as a good
one.
Never buy cheap seed. It is only by get
ting good prices that a seedsman can supply
an article to be depended upon.
Cover all seed with at least their own thick
ness of soil but as some of it gets washed off .
you must allow for it.
Gather fruit in dry weather and with the !
sun shining and [ilaee them carefully in the
baskets as if they were glass. The smallest
bruise commences a decay.
Never subject a plant to a rapid change of
temperature. Sudden check or sudden ex
citement are equally injurious.
Never grow a crop or crops of the same
twice on the same spot, without an interven
ing crop of a different nature.
Never transplant shrubs and trees in a
growing state. However carefully it may
lie done the check is dangerous if not fa
tal.
Keep all kinds of plants under glass as
as possible to the light.
Keep yotir plants clean. Dust and dirt on
the leaves make the plant unhealthy, and will
in time kill it.
Never grow a plant too liis!; it is no cred- ,
it to you, because anybody can do it, and it j
spoils a plant certainly.
Never train or support a plant unnaturally, j
Climbers will not do hanging about.—Trail
ers will not do for climbers.
Never sweep a gravel walk with an old
broom. It not only tears the edging but it
also scrapes up the walk itself.
Mow lawns before the dew is off the grass i
unless you hava. a machine, which cuts iLhesL s
when dry.
Rapid growth makes a mild flavor, slow !
growth a strong one. Therefore grow vegc- ;
tables quick; and fruit moderately.
Carefully pscserve the fallen leaves of trees, I
and procure a many a possible; when rot- !
tened into a mould the produce is invalua- !
ble.
Keep your seed-, bulbs, ete., in a plaee I
where neither heat, nor frost, nor damp can
’reach them; lor either of them would destroy
many.
Mind } our own affairs. Let all the errors
you see iu others’ management suggest cor
rections in your own.
Let uot the moisture that runs from the
dunghill be wasted; it is too good to be!
lost.
Ne'er allow weeds to bloom, it is the worst
proof erf’thoughtlessness. ( file day devoted
this year will save a liiuiith's application
next.
Never remove a plant from one pluee till
you are ready, to put it in another, unless to
get rid of it.
\civij’ lYfarriert.
Just after breakfast —new husband equip
ped sci down town, toasting his calves before
the parlor fire. New wife distribul mg bits of
good things from the breakfast table to the
pet canaries—colloquy ensues.
H ‘ft —Love, the mie*’ are terribly trouble
some—they get into the cuke box and my
drawers and your trunk awfully, so won’t
von get me a mouse trap?
Husband— course I will, fove—of
course.
II i/e —That’s a good dear; 1 knew you j
would; I>ut just to think that nasty tincture]
ol iron the doctor prescribes for my loss of
appetite spoils my teeth, and mother says I
must take it through a quill: please get me
some quills, nows won’t you ?
Husband —Y'es. dear—(nervously pulling
his coat tails forward over each hip.)
Wise —I want some pins, too, so bad, and
it’s such horrible walking I can’t go out; so
please now get me some pins, not the big
sort, medium kind.
| Husband —Yes, love—anything else!—
(Husband's calves warm up, aud as he bends
down to scratch ’em, simply makes a wry
face which means and n.)
j Wise —La, me! I nearly lbrgot. The cork
screw we borrowed of Mrs. TANARUS.; well, the
cook has broke it, and there’s nothing to be
done but get another. I’m mighty sorry,
but its too late to help it. Don’t bo iu such
a hurry. Didn’t bum your legs, did you?
Ain’t you going to kiss me? There! Don’t
| forget, now. Puis, corkscrew, quills and a
mouse-trap.
Husband rushes out—bang goes the hall
door—aud an acquaintance iu the street oom
| mioeiatingly watches him disappear rouud a
corner, repeating “pins,’ corkscrew, .quills,
mouse-trap.”— Chicago Tribune.
“Cruel and Unusual Punishment.”— Some
wicked person, “ atally bent on mischief,”
has disposed of Tennyson’s last poem, in the
* following “two-edged” epigram :
“Dismally dull and dolefully dawdlin,’
Tennyson’s Maud should be Tennyson’s. 1
j . Maudlin!” - •■ . ... j
A. D. D. —Rev. Theodore Parker,‘having
received a letter from an Alabamian, calling
him a “d—il white hearted slave-stealing
! scoundrel.” says he never before had the tC
tie of D. D. conferred on him, even in small
letters.
. To Make Paper Fire proof. —Dip paper
j into stroDg alum water, aud it will resist the
j action of fire.
01l Fellows’ Celebration at
Cincinnati.
AVe find in the Cincinnati papers glowing
descriptions of the celebration in that city,
on the 24th ult., of Hie thirty-seventh anni
versary of the introduction of Odd Fellow
ship into the United States. The pageant
was of unusual splendor. It was got up
under the auspices of the Cincinnati Lodges,
and nearly every State was represented.
Not less than four thousand persons v*ere in
the procession. AA'e extract uotices of some
of the most prominent features of the dis
play :
i “As tlie light broke upon the city in the
morning it revealed a large number of street
adornments, erected during the night, for
the purpose of giving eclat to the occasion.
Among them were several triumphal arches,
handsomely and appropriately decorated.
The first in the line of march was across
AA'estern Row at Eighth street, opposite
AA'ni. Penn Lodge room. It was a neat el
liptic arch, the pillars being red and blue
and the top white, and all very neatly and
prettily decorated with evergreens aud
flags.”
Among the mottoes were the following •
“AA'eleome Brothers;” “Our Country, the
Union;” ‘Friendship, Love, and Truth.’’
All along the entire route was a gay display
of flags aud other decorations, giving to the
city quite a holiday appearance. At the J
wharf the steamers all had their colors fly
ing. ‘ . I
“The crowning display of the day was at
the corner of Sixth and AA'alnut streets, op
posite Ylagnolia Lodge room. The building
itself, located on the north-west corner, pre
rented a gorgeous appearance. The win
dows were copiously ornamented with tri
colored festoons, evergreen wreaths, flags,
Ac., arranged with exquisite ta.-te. On the
corner of the building, in the upper story,
was a large painting, representing the va
rious degrees of the Order; in the centre
window, Walnut street front, a large paint
ing representing Faith: and in tlie central
window, Sixth street front, a similar paint
ing representing Hope, which set off the
whole array most charmingly. A magnifi
cently painted Gothic arch crowned the in
tersection, extending from tlie north-east
corner. The centre of the arch was sup
jiorted bv a tall liberty pole, which, running
through the arch, ascended above the neigh
boring house-tops. At its base a fountain i
was located, sending high into the air danc- 1
iug sparkling streams of pure water. The
arch itself was a treble one.”
The procession is thus briefly but graphi
cally described in the Columbian :
“The sight of the multitude passing, ar- j
rayed in gorgeous paraphernalia, bearing
splendid banners and the mysterious looking
insignia of the Order, accompanied by car
riages and horses, and even the stately ele
phant, all looked glorious in the bright sun
light, aad led the spectator to inquire wheth
er the barbaric display of Babylon, and the
long passed glories of Eastern ‘armies with ;
banners,’ could rival .so imposing a sight.
“First came, bu horseback, the Grand
Marshal of the day, Joseph 8. Mayor, Esq.,
with his assistants, followed by various
Lodges in splendid regalia, and a car beauti
fully ornamented, having a* banner with the
motto, ‘ln God is our Trust.’
“Further on passed a car with the motto,
‘()ur Orphans.’ It was filled with girls
dressed iu white; circlets of white roses
were around their heads, and pink scarfs pass
ed over the shoulder. <ln this car were three
young ladies who attracted especial atten
tion. All were dressed in white, but the
first had a white scarf and white ribands
streaming from her flowing ringlets. Bhe
represented Faith, and carried a Bible. The ,
second, with pink scarf and ribands, sup
ported an anchor, and represented Hope.
The third wore a blue scarf .and ribands;
she bore a cornucopia, and gracefully repre
sented Charity. The car was drawn by six
white horses, whose heads were trimmed
wiith white and red feathers and small flags.
The canopy of the car was surmounted with
a stuffed white eagle; the wheels were dra
ped in tri-colors. The motto on this car was,
‘Grateful to our Creator; Faithful to Our
Country; Fraternal to our Fellow Man.’ The
front of the car was ornamented with the
painting of a large eve.
“The next car was of beautiful design ;
it was trimmed with blue and tastefully or
namented with evergreens and flowers. An
altar, upon which lay the lamb of sacrifice
with fleecy coat, stood in the centre of the
platform. The driver and two boys were
arrayed in cocked hats, purple velvet coats,
and yellow breeches. Behind the altar a
beautiful young lady represented Patriot
ism ! she was dressed in blue and white, and
supported by two sweet little girls, elegant
ly attired. An Indian with his quiver on
Iris back, stood by their side leaning on his
bow.
“Afterward came the car of the Makete
wah Encampment No. 52, with the motto,
‘the Bible is our guide.’ The driver was in
Turkish costume, scarlet robe, turban, and
loose flowing pantaloons. In front of the
platform stood a temple enclosing beautiful
i growing shrubs and flowers. In the rear
of the temple was an altar on which. lay a
• Bible; behind the altar stood a plain black
tent, iu which was silting the Grand High
Priest, iu flowing robes and triple tiara, np-
LOQ which was a plate with the inscription,
| in Hebrew characters, ‘Kadesh Layeltowaf
Holiness to the -Lord. He was supported
by two knights in brass breastplates and hel
mets. I lie car was splendidly trimmed with
purple velvet sprinkled with golden stars
The platform was surmounted with a hand
some palisade.
“The next noticeable feature was two
Moors on horseback, who acted as avant
HO. 6.
couriers to an immense elephant that strode
on with stately steps. It was confidently
rumored among the crowd that the creature
had been taught to make the Odd Fellows’
sign with his trunk, and was frequently en
gaged in that act during the procession. It
certainly looked the oddest fellow in the
procession, for its fellow was not there. Ine
elephant was followed by two persons on
horseback, one representing a Chinese, and
the other, with his corduroy breeehes, Jolur
Bull.
“Soon after succeeded a car that attracted
great attention. It had a scarlet canopy of
graceful shape, beneath which was the top
of a well, beside which stood a fair and
beauteous daughter of Rebekah, with a
pitcher in her hand of ancient shape, rest
ing upon the mouth of the well; she was
clad in a Jewish robe of scarlet stuff. Rebe
kah was represented by Miss Laura Peters*
In front of the canopy or temple stood three
girls in the character of ‘Friendship, Love,
and Truthbehind it the text, ‘The wolf
also shall dwell with the lamb,’ &c., was il
lustrated by appropriate figures of stuffed
animals, a little child standing as their lead
er.
“More lodges succeeded, containing digni
taries of the Order, then bands and banners.
The Newport and Covington lodges appear
ed to much advantage at this part of the
procession. A car containing a biack tent,
in which was seated a High Priest with the
conical cap of the Copts, surrounded with
outlaudish-looking attendants, followed, the
horses of the car being led by negroes.
Next came carriages containing ladies be
longing to the daughters of Rebekah, fol
lowed by the car of Rebekah Degree, with
the motto, ‘Benevolent Society of the
Daughters of Rebekah.’ In the centre of
the platform stood a pillar covered with
pink velvet, surmounted by the motto, ‘The
Pillar of our Order.’ A banner suspended
near the pillar portrayed Rebekah and the
steward at the well. The car was filled with
little children. The girls were dressed in
white, with red and white roses encircling
their heads. The boys were in pink striped
shirts and straw hats. The group was a very
pleasing one.
“The Belief Committees of Cincinnati,
Covington, and Newport, followed, and then
came a car that attracted considerable no
tice. On the platform was a triangular temple,
supported by three pillars. The sides of the
temple bore the mottos, ‘Educate the Orphan,
‘Visit the Sick,’ ‘Bury the Dead.’ Beneath
the temple stood a triangular altar, support
ed by three lovely young ladies, represent
ing ‘Friendship, Love, and Truth,’ with rich
clustering ringlets falling upon their should
ers. They were dressed in white, with
scarfs and flowers encircling their heads,
which were also decorated with ribands
fluttering in the breeze. In the rear, on
each side, stood a coffin. Above the altar,
suspended amid flowers, was a bird. The
classic scholar will understand more in the
arrangement of this car than we have space
to describe. The car was drawn by four
black horses, each led by a negro. The mot
to was, ‘ln God we Trust.’
“Eighteen or twenty carriages, contain
ing ladies and officers of the Order, succeed
ed, and ‘the wondrous sight was o’er.’ It
was then 12$ o’clock, the processiou having
occupied exactly three-quarters of an hour
in passing. Fn the procession (besides the
various lodges) there ltfere eight cars, eleven
bands of music, and one elephant.”
The Oration was delivered by Rev. Isaac
D. Williamson. It is spoken of as a cogent,
persuasive, well-measured argument. It con
tained many excellent points—amongst them
the following:
“The mission of Odd Fellowship,” he said,
“was to relieve the sufferings of the poor,
s visit the sick, and protect the widow and
the fatherless. They combined together
for good, and to scatter the leagues of des
potism. He thought there was never an
age before which gave promise of such hope
for man. The whole family of man appear
i ed to be awakening to their true interests
and the objects for which they were created.
Thrones were totterin?, and all over the
civilized world power was passing from the
few to the many, and a united people wa*
stronger than any throne. Armies there
were (lie said) whose business it was to fight
and make warfare, but other armies there
were whose business it was to bind up and
heel, and the soldiers of war, compared to
the soldiers of were less than
one to ten. The hosts of war were many,
but they were not to be compared to the le
gions of peace and benevolence.”
It was stated that the Order now num
bers two hundred thousand persons, with an
annual revenue of a million and a half o!
dollar*.
“Among the many noticeable incidents o
tlie day, one was the presence of Thoma?
Wildey, Fsq., the founder of the Order ir
the Union, whieh appeared to be a source o
much pleasure to the members of the Ordei
Wreaths aud boquets were heaped upon hin
I so liberally that there was danger of his be
ing smothered by tire fragrant and undyin
presents.”
A Frenchman, soliciting relief, said, ver
gravely to his fair hearer: Ma’amselle, I nev<
beg but dat I have one wife wid several sma
family dat is growing very large, and nossic
to make deir bread out of but de prespiratic
of my own eyebrows.”
When you see a girl so weak that si
can't sweep her own seven by-nine chambe
and then goes to a “shindy” and dances f
night with the power of a Georgia Railrot
locomotive, make up your mind that she
“got up’ on bad principles. The sooner y<
, take your hat and departure, the beta
Such sort of calico has been the everlastt,
ruin of many a man-—rely on our words.