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' ( CLISBY & REID, Proprietors. The Family Journal.—News—Politics—Literature—-Agriculture—Domestio Affairs. GEORGIA TELEGRAPH BUILDING. ESTABLISHED 1826.} MACON, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1868. YOL. ILIII.—NO. 3; THE FACE IN THE CLASS. BY- JULIA BACON. [The following beautiful poem is from the pen of one of Georgia’s most gifted daughters—i resident of Talbotton.—Ed.] The night without was bitter and chill, And the wind blew cold and whistled shrill, And the rain began to fall; But within a cottage close and tight, And cosy and clean and warm and bright, Where the blazing pine-knot’s cheerful light Threw shadows upon the walL; A maiden fair as ever was seen, With dark brown eyes and innocent mien, ' Sat waiting for twelve o’clock; To try her fortune and see, she said, The face of the man whom she would wed; But, 0, she thought if his hair was red ’Twould be a terrible shock 1 For that was the hue of Jamie’s hair, She never loved him, she could declare, He only wished to deceive; Hadn’t she seen him walking of late Talking and laughing, flirting with Kate ? And kissed her, perhaps, down at the gate, That very all Hallow’s eve. These vexing thoughts filled the maiden’s mind; The rain beat hard ’gainst the window blind, The clock was ticking its best: Then she arose and unbarred the door, That fairy or elf might enter before The charm’d hour passed; she longed more and more Its magic power to test. Taking an apple mellow and sound, Which she must eat in silence profound, While standing before a glass: For if she but smiled, or moved, or spoke, A raven unseen would surely croak, And the mystic spell would then be broke, And nothing would come to pass. Trembling in every nerve she stood, Eating the tipple mellow and good, But scarcely noticed she that, When the last stroke of twelve was o’er, And something tipping across the floor; Was it a miry or- cat? Her heart stood still, and her blood ran cold; She closed her eyes, and dared not behold Whatever Fate might reveal - Footsteps creptnear; she heard a low sigh, And soft, low breathings very close by Thrilled her with horror; something was nigh— Was it for woe or for weal? Her eyes unclosed, in the glass she gazed, Startled was she and truly amazed, But saw no spirit or elf; The smiling face of a man was there, A well-known face, unwrinkled by care— The fire-light shone on his bright red hair, She knew t?was Jamie himself 1 “Waiting and watching, wishing to see Whose little wife you’re destined to be ? Ah, Nannie, I am the man!” She laughed and blush’d, she pouted and frown’d, But ere All Hallows again came ’round, In Hymen’s bonds together were bound, Gentle young Jamie and Nan. Beethoven’s Bast Sours. The Grazer Tagepost contains a letter by the hands of the famous composer, Anselm Huttenbrenner (communicated by his son, Col. Peter Huttenbrenner,) which the former had addressed to the United States Consul, A. W. Thayer, in Vienna, -on Beethoven’s last moments, so differently related by so many differ ent biographers. The following form the principal portions of this most interesting epistle; “When on the 26th of March, 1827, about three o’clock in the afternoon, I entered Beethoven’s bedroom, I found there Hofrath Brenning, his son, and Mrs. van Beethoven, the wife of Johann van Beethoven, landed proprietor and apothecary of Linz, and besides, my friend, the portrait painter, Joseph Telt- scher. I believe that Prof. Schindler was also present. These gentlemen, after a while, left the composer in his death struggle, and had little hopes of finding him yet alive on their return. During the last moments of Beethoven there was no one in the room except Mrs. van Beethoven and myself. After Beethoven had Iain from three o’clock in the after noon, when I came, breathing hard in his agonies, yet without consciousness, till about five, a'flash of lightning, accompa nied by a violent clap of thunder, came •down and lighted up the death chamber, (there lay snow in front of Beethoven’s house,) with a dazzling glare. After this unexpected phenomenon, Beethoven opened his eyes, lifted up his right hand, and for several seconds looked upwards, his fist clenched, and with a very serious, threatening countenance, as if he meant to say, ‘I defy you, you hostile powers! Avaunt, God is with me I’ When his raised hand fell back upon his bed, his eyes half closed. My right hand lay under his head, my left rested on his chest. No more breath, no more motion of the heart! It is not true that I had asked Beethoven to take the dying sac raments, hut I did, at the request of the wife of the late musical publisher, Thom as Haslinger, cause Beethoven to be asked in the most delicate manner by Jenger and the landed proprietress, Mrs. van Beethoven, to fortify himself by tbe taking of the Lord’s Supper. That Beethoven said to me, (who was not even present on March 24,1827, in the fore noon, when he took the Viaticum,) the words, ‘Plaudite, amici, comcedia finita *st,’ is pure invention. Nor did Beetho- Via > I am sure, make use of such an ex- piession, so utterly contrary to his straightforward character, to any one else. On the other hand, neither did Mrs. van Beethoven relate to me on the dying day of her brother-in-law, that af ter he had taken the Viaticum he had said to the priest, ‘I thank your reverence, you have brought me comfort.’ ” The Irish Judge, Day, was a remarka bly tall man, and an intimate friend of j lr Arthur Clarke, who was almost a dwarf. It was a standing joke with the wags of Dublin to liken the colossal J udge a nd his diminutive companion to e twenty-first of June, inasmuch as they jomriy constituted the longest Day : i] and the shortest Knight /i j- °? N ®Y LL > conversing with an In- > 1 sT A if , he kne » sun never A Si H ? UeeD 8 Unions. “No,” jj| said the Indian. “Do you know the ' p 68 ^ 01 ? "-hy ?” asked JoL. “Because m SSj 18 , a N aid trust &n Englishman m ■ the dark > was the savage’s reply. L M I The Moose in Maine. We find the following account of the moose from that excellent agricultural and farming journal, the Maine Parmer, published at Augusta, which we are sure will be read with interest; _ This noble animal is an inhabitant of this State, but its native location is much more extensive than is generally sup posed. North of 49 degrees they are round across the entire continent, being very numerous in tbe northern Rocky Mountains. Maine, New Brunswick, and Lower Canada, are among its favor ite places of abode. They are the largest of the deer tribe. Few persons in Maine realize what a noble animal ranges our forests, some of which vie almost with the horse in size. Like all the deer family they are ruminating animals, and in sum mer, when their hair is short, and glossy, they appear very handsome ; though their head has a heavy look, which is disfigured by a clumsy upper lip, approaching in appearance that of the horse. They are exceedingly timid. We saw one partial ly tamed several years since, and though he had been kept for months in a stable with a horse, yet when taken into the street he seemed terribly frightened as he saw a horse walking through the streets. Hence the moose hunter finds it necessa ry to approach them against the wind. The breaking of a twig will arouse them. In winter the hair 13 long and coarse, within which is a fine, thick coat of wool. An old moose has a long, bushy tuft un der the jaws. The most remarkable object of atten tion in the moose is his huge antlers, which seem to be a great inconvenience to the progress of the animal among trees, but he turns them back upon his shoulders, and trots along with a stately gait and great speed among the trees. They nev er gallop nor leap, but practice a long trot. Hunters think much of moose meat. The steak is usually coarse, though when in good condition it is quite juicy. . The nose and tongue are considered great delicacies. The Indians who lived in the vicinity of the whites considered it a most desirable present to their white neighbors, when they could bring in a nose and tongue ofa moose. The age of the moose is generally reckoned by the number of points on his horns, some of which have as many as twenty-three, which indicate their age in years. Their antlers weigh some times as high as seventy pounds. They shed these every year, usually commenc ing in December. It is astonishing with what rapidity these antlers will grow. In the winter season they retire to the more mountainous region, when they are said to “yard.” An abundance of hard wood trees furnisli them with food, and they do not leave their yard unless dis turbed, so long as food is abundant. Moose hunting when the snow is deep and covered with crust, is very exciting. When started from their yard, the male goes first, and the others follow in his tracks so exactly that a stranger would suppose there was only one moose. It is said that they sometimes in their flight ro through other yards, when they all all in and travel in single file. Its speed is so great that an Indian has pursued one three hundred miles before overtaking him. Generally, if hotly pursued and not overtaken the first day, they lay down after running a short distance, and are so stiff the next day that they are easily brought to bay by small dogs. Various attempts have been made to domesticate them. They have been har nessed into a sleigh and driven with great speed, but there are times when they are perfectly unmanageable. Their timid nature forbids their general use. The destruction of moose and deer in this State has heen most wanton within a few years. A law is needed, for bidding their slaughter for ten or fifteen years," when they would again rapidly in- A Fellow who came by the railroad, being a stranger, strolled about for some time on the outskirts of a town, in search of a barber. He finally discovered one, and requested the operator to take off a shilling’s worth of hair. The barber trimmed his locks very neatly, soaped up the remainder very handsomely, and then combed and brushed him up till his head looked as if it belonged to some other person than himself. “Are you done?” asked the stranger, as the barber removed the napkin from his neck. “Yes, sir, there’s a glass; you can look for yourself.” “Well,” said the stranger, “if you think you have taken a shilling’s worth off, I don’t know as I have got any change, so you may just take the hair for your trouble.” On hearing this, the bar ber made a jump for the man, whereupon the man made a jump for the door, which not being bolted, he bolted himself. Talking of Costume.—The following conversation is said to have taken place the other day: Judge—(who is a lover of the high order of the drama)—met a well- known theatrical manager, and thus ad dressed him. Judge—“Well, my old Thespian friend, I hope you’ll favor us with the legitimate, the coming season.” Manager—“It won’t pay, Judge. Sensa tion and limbs are still the rage. I have in preparation a Russian spectacle, with the crushing snow device from Paris, and real sables for the actors; but the ballet troubles me; I want to outstrip all, pre vious efforts, and still preserve the unity of the piece.” Judge (sarcastically) “All you have to do is to bring ’em out in bearskins.” Answering Precisely.—A witness in court who had been cautioned to give a precise answer to every question, and not talk about what he might think the question meant, was interrogated as fol lows : “You drive a wagon ?” “No, sir, I do not.” “Why, man, did you not tell my learned friend so this moment ?” “No, sir, I did not.” “Now, sir, I put it to you on your oath, do you not drive a wagon?” “No, sir.” “What is your oc cupation, then r “I drive a horse, sir” Fifty Tears Bence. The London Spectator, in some specu lations on the changes that may possibly occur in the next half century in conse quence of new discoveries, regards emi gration as one of the things which is awAUowBra ait auvi. A SUCKER—his first oyster—swal lowing IT ALIVE—TERRIBLE SITUA TION—THE RESCUE—DISAPPEARANCE. quite as likely to be affected as any other. Should a new impetus be given to this, the consequence to Europe would be very serious. The writer says: “Suppose it true, as so many men of mark in science believe, that the next great step may be in sea-going steamers, that international communication may be accelerated, as internal communication has been, that we At a late hour the other night, the door of an oyster-house in our city was thrust open, and in stalked a hero from the Sucker State. He is quite six feet in height, spare somewhat, stooped, with a hungry, anxious countenance, and bis hands pushed clear down to the bottom of his pantaloon pockets. His outer cov ering was hard to define, but after sur veying it minutely, we came to the con clusion that .his suit had been made in his boyhood, of a dingy yellow linsey wolsey, and that, having .spouted up may vet see New York brought within two day’s journey of Liverpool; the probability is that in ... - - . ... ten years every social condition now ex- astonishing rapidity, he had been isting in Europe would have ceased to exist; that the millions who toil for oth ers, and on whose toil modern society is built, would chose to toil for themselves, would precipitate themselves in a rush to which all the movements of mankind have been trifles upon the new world. Suppose tbe population of Britain and Germany reduced to 10,000,000 each—a change less in magnitude than that which has occurred in many countries—and those 10,000,000 only retained by advan tages as great as the new world could of fer, what would all the changes of the past half century be to that? This may happen, even without any application of Stephenson’s great idea, the one idea he never worked out, that if engineers, in stead, of increasing the power applicable to driving ships, were to reduce the fric tion which retards ships, the world would speedily be one great parish. This writer, who has seen many countries and lived among many races, seriously believes that of all the dangers to which Europe and European society are exposed, none is so formidable as the passion for emi gration ; seriously doubts whether, if ed ucation spreads in Europe, it will be pos sible to retain its population cooped up in their narrow and half-exhausted corner of the world. We think, we English, that we knowwhatemigration is, but we know nothing about it; have no idea of the changes it would involve if aided by the whole force of the masses then in posses sion of the supreme political power. Sup pose those five-sixths of Englishmen who now work for others, chose to go else where and work for themselves. The change between Waterloo and Sadowa would be very slight compared with the change between 1868 and 1818, and there is not a sensible man in England who will declare that alteration beyond the reach of thought. Why should not emi gration in England and Germany attain the height it has reached in Ireland, and the masses insist on aiding it through the national fleets ? The Irish would, if they had the power, and the British have this year the power conferred on them. We say nothing of a discovery which, if it is ever made, will remould all human soci ety, slowly pulverize all differences among nations, fusing the world into one peo ple, ana immediately destroy all existing political arrangements—the discovery of a means of maintaining and guiding a raft ten feet or so in the air, for we can not resist a totally unreasonable impres sion that the discovery will not be made, that progress will not, in our time, make that astounding leap. Apart altogether from that, there are physical forces now at work strong enough to change the whole face of the world, by shifting its population.” An Eccentric Nobleman. The Duke of Portland is in his sixty- ninth year. He is the eldest brother of the late George Bentinck, and owner of magnificent estates in England and Scot land. After what the French delicately term a “stormy youth,” he became, in his lather’s life time a recluse. It was the late Duke’s fancy that therj was going to be a scarcity of oak—he did not foresee the iron age—and he planted a tree wherever he could, until his park at Wellbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire, was almost a plantation when he died, in 1854. The present Duke took up his residence at Wellbeck, denied himself to almost every one, and proceeded to im prove the estate, cut down the superflu ous timber, and laid out the park on the most improved principles of landscape gardening; constructed one of the most perfect series of kitchen gardens in the kingdom, with hot, fruit and forcing houses on a magnificent scale; built sta bles and coach houses fit for a prince, and much finer than any English prince possesses. In fact, the Duke devoted and devotes his time and a large part of his income to putting his seat in the most perfect order of receiving and entertain ing in ducal style. But he does not keep any company, gives no entertainments on any occasion, and, in fact, lived and lives the life of a monk of La Trappe. He has for some time been endeavoring to convert a stream through his park into a lake six miles long. Hundreds of la- borers are employed on this and other' inquired: forced to piece it out with all colors, in order to keep pace with his body. In spite of his exertions, however, he had fallen in arrears about a foot of the necessary length, and, consequently, stuck that far through his inexpressibles. His crop of hair was surmounted by the funniest little seal skin cap imaginable. After taking a position, he indulged in a long stare at the man opening bivalves, and slowly ejaculated—“Isters ?” “Yes, sir,” responded the attentive op erator—“and fine ones they are too.” “Well, I’vehearn of Isters afore,” says he, “but this is the fust time I’ve seed ’em, and perhaps I’ll know what their made of afore I git out of town.” Having expressed this desperate inten tion, he cautiously approached the plate and scrutinized the uncased shell fish, with a gravity and interest which should have done honor to the most illustri ous searcher into the hidden mysteries of nature. At length he began to solilo quise on the difficulty of getting them out, and how queer they looked when out. “I never seed anythin’ hold on so— takes an amazin site of screwin’, hoss, to get ’em out, and ain’t they slick and slip- ’ry when they does come ? Smooth as an eel. I’ve a good mind to give the feller lodging, just to realize the effects, as Uncle Jess used to say about speckalation.” “Well, sir,” was the reply, “down with two bite, and you can Have a dozen.” “Two bits!” exclaimed the Sucker, “now come, that’s sticking it on right strong, hoss, for isters. A dozen on ’em ain’t nothing to a chicken, and there’s no gettin’ more’n a picayune apiece for ’em. I’ve only realized forty-five pica yunes on my fust venture to St. Louis. I’ll tell you what, I’ll gin you two chick ens for a dozen, if you’ll conclude to deal.” A wag, who was standing by indulging in a dozen, winked to the attendant to shell out, and the offer was accepted. “Now mind,” repeated the Sucker, “all fair—two chickens for a dozen—two chick ens for a dozen—you’re a witness, mister,” turning at the same time to the wag, “none of your tricks, for I’ve heard that you city fellers are mity slip’ry coons.” The bargain being fairly understood, our Sucker squared himself for the onset, deliberately put off his seal skin, tucked up his sleeves, and, fork in hand, awaited the appearance of No. 1. It came—he saw—and quickly it was bolted! A mo ment’s dreadful pause ensued. The wag dropped his knife and fork with a look of mingled amazement and horror—some thing akin to Shakspeare’s Hamlet on seeing his daddy’s ghost—while he burst into the exclamation: “Swallowed alive as I am a Christian!” Our Sucker hero had opened his mouth with pleasure a moment before, but now it stood open. Fear—a horrid dread of he didn’t know what—a consciousness that all wasn’t right, and ignorant of the extent of the wrong—the uncertainty of the moment was terrible. Urged to des peration, be faltered out— “What on earth’s the row ?” “Did you swallow it alive’?” inquired the wag. “I swallowed it jest as begin itto me!” shouted the Sucker. “You’re a dead man I” exclaimed his anxious friend; “the creature is alive, and will eat right through you,” added he, in, a most hopeless tone. “Get a pizen pump and pump it out!” screamed the Sucker in a frensy, his eyes fairly starting from their sockets. “O, gracious! what ’ill I do?—it’s got hold of my innards already, already, and I’m dead as a chicken.! do something for me, do—don’t let the infernal sea toad eat me afore your eyes!” “Why don’t you put some of this on it?” inquired the wag, pointing to a bottle of strong pepper-sauce. The hint was enough—the Sucker upon the instant seized the bottle, and, desper ately pulling out the cork, swallowed half the contents ata draught. Hefairly squealed from its effects, and gasped and blowed, and pitched, and twisted as if it were coursing through, him. with electric effect, while at the same time his eyes ran a stream of tears. At length, becoming, a little composed, his waggish adviser, al most bursting with suppressed laughter, work on the estate in hand, at good wa ges, but on one condition—no man is to speak to him or salute him. The man who touches his hat is at once discharged. The village doctor and the parson have the same orders. The tenants are in formed of the Duke’s wishes; if they meet him they are to pass him as they would a tree. Yet he is constantly about bis domain, planning and superintending improvements. He is a capital land lord, both in England and Scotland— drains, builds, andputs bis terms in first rate condition.. He never shoots, and never allows his English farmers to have the game, even on payment. To every useful county work and every charity he is ready to subscribe. Roads, church es, schools, all are in first rate order on the Portland estates. He breeds horses, and spares no expense in sires and mares; but if the produoe does not come up to bis ideal, he Bhoots them—never sells an inferior horse. Sometimes a cart load of j “How are you now, old fellow—did you kill it?” “Well, I did, hoss’; ugh, ugh, o-o-o—my innards. If that ister critter’s dying ag onies didn’t stir a ’ruption in me equal to a small earthquake, then ’taint no use sain’ it—it squirmed like a serpent when that killin’ stuff touched it; huand here, with a countenance made up of sup pressed agony and present’determination, he paused to give force to his words, and slowly and deliberately remarked, “if you get two chickens from me for that live an imal I’m d—d! and seizing his seal skin cap, he vanished. The shout of laughter, and the contor tions of this company at this finale would have made a spectator helievc that they had all been “swallowing oysters alive.” Dentists are favored with more open countenances than any other class. w _ The paper having the largest areola- well-bred colts and fillies are sent to feed ^ on * ke P®?®*" tobacco, the Ruflord hounds. 1 London has 350,000 houses. OTITBE BSFXOZfAOE. THE french spy system, The political police of Paris consists of five hundred ana forty agents, from all countries, and of both sexes. Many of them are Corsicans, the inhabitants of the little isle developing remarkable tal ent'for intriguing in politics. The cor dial hatred which every Parisian cher ishes for the profession, makes it rather necessary that foreigners should be en couraged to enter into it. Their chief is the Count de la Grange, who himself is subject to the orders of the Prefect Pie- tri, mentioned in a former article; He is a witty, gracious, and treacherous man of the world; of course of immense value to the maintenance of any empire. Mem bers of the corps are disseminated as thoroughly over the globe’s face as the Jesuites used to be, and are as minute and faithful in their reports. They send in at regular intervals accounts of the opinions and doings of political refugees, and of diplomats, north, south, east and west. In Paris no quarter is without at least a dozen at all hours of the day or night, and under-the guise of friendship they of ten endeavor to gain one’s confidence, only to deceive and have him arrested, if necessary to their own aggrandizement, or the Government’s fancied security. Four o’clock in the morning is the popu lar hour with these gentlemen for their calls They open your bed-curtains, com mand you to put on your clothes and go with them, and you may have been lock ed up for a month before you know that you were arrested for some trivial remark in a store or hotel. The pay of the sub alterns is one handred dollars monthly in gold, either in France or abroad. When the Emperor has decided upon leaving for any point outside of Paris or his em pire, a number of these agents are sent ahead to manufacture opinion, and to prepare the way of demonstrations of en thusiasm. In such cases all their extra expenses are paid by the Government. So it is no wonder that all the items of one of Napoleon’s journeys foot up a round some. About fifty of these mouchards are sta tioned at New York and Washington, and some of them have access to the best houses in the metropolis and the capital. The Corsicans are soi disant Italian music teachers, or linguistic pro fessors. And these intrude for their thievish purposes almost everywhere they wish. They usually have a wife in al most every city they have inhabited, and are as irredeemably vicious as men can be. Now and then one has entered the business after a long course of crime in bis own country. France is the Europe an refuge for all such rubbish, and turns it to the best account. When the Paris exhibition opened in 1867j about a dozen of these mouchadrs were recalled from New York to watch the Americans in the French capital, and to sometimes kindly warn them if they expressed too loudly their opinions. Napoleon did not fancy arresting ma ny American sovereigns. But the poor Prussians were often locked up without hardlv the slightest provocation. To praise Bismarck even, or malign the .French reputation for military bearing, was to introduce one’s self to a Gallic mouchard. One Prussian who could not speak a word of French, was locked up for several days, simply because he jostled a French army officer, who "would not move out of his way. He could get no interpreters near him to make an expla nation, and his case seemed hopeless, until he was at last brought before court, and dismissed because be was so stupid as not to speak French. During one of tbe visits of tbe Emper or to the exhibition, an agent of a foreign firm had occasion to.exmbit to Napoleon, through the Chief of Police, de surete, M. Elroy, a Remington shot cane. A few days later the few samples remain ing on the show-case were bought by M- Pietri, and one of his special agents asked the foreigner to order one hundred and sixty-five of them, with which to arm the Emperor’s civilian corps. As those arms, as well as-small pocket pistols, are forbidden to enter France, the foreign agent inquired if the special had an or der to allow the arms te enter Paris. He exhibited a police card, and said they should enter free of duty. But when they came to the custom-house, they were seized there, confiscated, and the unlucky foreigner was fined, and paid a large sum for breaking the custom laws, besides losing the cost of the canes—five hundred dollars. The confiscation was doubtless a clever dodge of M. Pietri to get the canes without paying for them. The political spies who are stationed in Paris go every morning at 10 o’clock to the Bureau of the Prefecture of Po lice, Place Jerusalem, to make their re port of all they have seen and heard dur ing. the preceding day.—Detectivesf Man ual. A Little Fellow in New York, who had just commenced reading the pa pers, asked his father if the word “Hon.,” prefixed to the name of Fernando Wood, the member of Congress, meant honest” The parent shook his head, It is a singular fact that ladies who know how to preserve every thing else, can’t preserve their tempers. Yet u may easily be done on the self-sealing prineir pie. It is only “to keep the mouth of the vessel tightly closed. ’ A wealthy bishop congratulated a poor priest on the good air which he breathed in his parish, to which the lat ter replied: “Yes, my lord, the air would he good enough if I could only live on it*’’ A sporting man remarked of a belle in the habit of wearing low-necked dress es, who carried off a matrim onialprize in the shape of a rich did widower, that “she won the race by a neck!” To a bonnet—“Though lost to sight, to memory dear.” Whatever else you may chose to sip, let alone gos-sip. MEXICAN EXrSL The whole life of a Mexican bears the impress of “dolce far niente.” He never hastens busily through the streets;' his time is never taken up. They rise early ; the ladies go in their thick veils to church, the gentlemen begin their morn ing ride. After the walk upon the Al- zneda, every one goes home; they gener ally take a bath, and there are good and cleanly well-arranged public baths in all the streets of the city, as well as bathing rooms in all the private dwellings. Time is dawdled away over the completion of thetoilet; if there are children in- the house their games are superintended, but they are gentle and quiet as their pa rents. Tortillas” and “frijoles” taks a prom inent .place at the tables of rich and poor. The first are pastry, made of ground maize, in the shape of a thin-disk,, as large as a plate, white and -tasteless. Among the lower orders this takes the place of bread; they use it, too, slightly rolled up, instead of spoons. . “Frijoles” are little black beans, which thrive par ticularly well in the neighborhood of-Ve- ra Gruz; when they have been cooked for some time, they take the color of choc olate, and make a very good and tasty food. A ragout of turkey (guejolote,) prepared with chiles, a kind of pepper and tomatoes, or apples of paradise, is a favorite dish. Mixed with maize flower, wrapped up in maize leaves, and steamed, it makes the best national dish— the tama les. On the whole, the cookery of Mexico is not very enticing to European, palates and stomachs. Lard is used in great ^quantities in all the dishes, even in the sweet ones. A good soup is almost an unknown thing. Coffee, which grows here of the best kind, is so badly prepared, that it is almost impossible to drink: it. Chocolate, highly spiced with cinamon, is, on the contrary, very good, and much drank. The afternoon hoars are spent in receiving and returning visits. I nev er saw a book in the hand of a lady, ex cept the prayer-book, nor any work. They write letters, for the most part, with an Unpracticed hand. Their, igno rance is complete; they have not.the smallest idea of geography and history. Europe to them, consists of Spain, from whence they sprang; Rome, where the Pope rules; and Paris, from whence come their clothes. They have no conception of other countries, or other nations, and they could not comprehend that French was not our native tongue. They have themselves but very faint notions of this language, hut have made a little progress in it since the invasion of the French. In many houses there is no-regular mid day meal; a little chocolate, or some oth er dish, is prepared; they lead a very moderate life. Wine or- beer is rarely drank, but there is no want of pulque at tbe tables of tbe rich. When guests are invited, there is no end to the number of dishes.- In families where regular meal times are observed, plates are always laid for more than the members of the house, as some relation or friend is sure to drop in, who partakes of the meal uninvited, and is received at it with the greatest good will. After the hour at the Paseo, they- drive to the theatre; if there happens to be an opera. They usually remain there en famille, and, joined by a few confidential friends, they play cards, enjoy music, .or chatter. The ladies take great delight in music, and have great talent for it. They often play very well on the piano, and have harmonious voices. When the young people assemble together they dance, and these informal enjoyments are called “tortulias.” A Good Story for Lawyers. It is probable that every lawyer-of any note has heard of the celebrated - Luther .Martin, of Maryland. His great effort in the case of Aaron Burr, as well as his displays iu tie Senate of' the United States, will never be. forgotten. Trifles in the history of genius are important, as we hope to show in the story. Mr. Martin was on his way to Afmapolis, to attend the Supreme Court of the .State. . A soli tary passenger was in the stage with him, and, as the weather was extremely cold; the passen gers soon resorted to conversation .to divert themselves from too much sensibility .to the in clement weather. The young man knew Mar tin by sight, and as he was also- a lawyer, the- thread of talk soon began toepineitself out of le gal matters. “Mr. Martin,” said the. young man, “lam just: entering on my career asa lawyer; can you tell me the secret of your great success? Ifj sir, yottx will give me from your experisasce the key to distinction at the has, J will—** “Will what f’ exclaimed Martin. . “Why, sir, I will pay your, .expenses while you are in Annapolis. “Done. Stand to your bargain, now, and L will furnish you with the secret of my* success as a lawyer.” The young man assented. “Very well,” said Mr. Martin. “The whole- secret of my success is continued tin ions little maxim, which I laid down early to guide m*- If you follow it you cannot fail to- succeed. It is this, ‘Always be sure of your evidence.' ” The listener was very attentive—smilcst— threw himself back in a philosophical posture, and gave his brain to the analysis with true lawyer’s patience of “Always m sure of your evidence.” It. was too cold a night fc».. anything t*. be made pecuniarily out of th&sikf man’s wisdom, and so the promising adept in maxim learning gave himself to stage dreams,ia which he. was knocking and pushing his. way.through, the world by the all powerfuli'.weraa, “Always be sure of your evidence.”" The morning came, andMavtin, with Us-stu dent, took rooms at the hotel ia the city*. The only thing peculiar to the- hotel -in the-eyes of the young man was that wine bottles, and. the et ceteras of the fine living seemed to recall vivid ly the maxim about the evidence. The young man watched.Mr. Martin... When ever eating and drinking.was concerned, he Taa indeed a man to be watehed, especially in the latter,: as he was immensely fond of the after din ner and after supper, after everythia&luxury of wine. . A few days wen sufficient to.show the incipient legalist that. he. would have to pay dearly for his knowledge, as Mr. Mbrtin. seemed resolved to -make the most of his part .of the con tract. Lawyers,-whether young, or. old, .havn legal rights, and so the young man began to- think of the study of self-protection. It was. certainly a solemn duty. Common- to. aninrwln and men, it was a-noble instinct not to.be-. ditobayed, partic ularly where the hotel .bills of. a. lawyer were concerned. The subject grew.- d&iljy on the young man. It wasall-absorbihg to. the mind and pocket. A week elapsed; Mr* Martin was ready to return to Baltimore.. So woaUhe young man, but not in the.sama stage with.kis illustri ous teacher. Mr. Martin approached the coun ter in the bar-room. The young* was an anxious spectator near him. “Mr. Clerk,” said Mr.. Martin^ “my young friend, Mr. —, will settle my hill,, agreeable to the engagement.” The young man-said nothing, hut he looked everythin*. “He will attend to it Mr.. Clerk, as we have already a definite understanding on the subject. He is pledged, .professionaffiy pledged, to pay the bill,” he hurriedly repeated. “Where is jnur. evidence*?” asked the young man. “Evidence?? sneered Mr. Martin. “Yes, sir,”- said the- young man demurely. “Always he sure ofi your evidence, Mr. Martin. Canyou prove the bargain?” Mr. Martin saw the snore, and pulled out his pocket-book, paid the hill, and with great good humor assured the young naan— “Yon.will.do, sir,.and get through the world with your.profession, without any advice from me.” The Unpunctual..Guest.—He is asked, for seren; at half-past seven or a quarter to eight, in he comes, with a happy smile on his face,. as if he had struck the. very point of time, and knew hothing of such vulgar annoyances chilled soup or sodden entrees. If he can say. that he missed the train, he is quite at ease with himself and all mankind; if he" can further say that a man came in and kept him, that is reason enough and to spare for being too late for Heav en. It never seemed to occur to him. that it was part of his duty, not to he too late for the train—and that -if any man whatsoever came in, his first obligation was to send him out again, when the fitting moment for departure arrived. He can give no valid reason why he should have been late. His chief duty was to keep his din ner engagement punctually, and all the rest is merely excuse, of no real value to any one. I have known .a man of this kind, asked for seven, come in jauntily at nine. He had a patient, timid hostess, who had counted on him as a tower of strength, being a man with, a presence, and a jovial manner, and an abundant atmos phere, and a generous vitality, and who, there fore, was of considerable value to the young din ner giver-. She waited for her tower just one hour and five minutes by the clock. When an other half-hour had passed, he entered with, the air of a prince coming to.his throne, and. coolly accepted the offer of such meats and dishes as had mng ago been relegated to the region of ac complished facts. He said he bad been kept; further, that he had missed the train ;, and ne had not the shadow, of remorse so soon as he had made his excuse. The distress of the young hostess, her anxiety lest her dinner would be spoilt and her guests set out of tune, the fiercer annoyance of the host, careful of his bride, and specially desirous that her trial dinner should succeed, the discomfiture of the people whose places he had already deranged, and now again shifted—all this was of no more consequence to that unpunctual guest than so many drops of rain foiling gently on the back of a sailing swan. I am bound to eonfeas that my friend is notorious for this kind of thing. He is the best fellow in the world, frank, warm and generous, a faithful friend, and kind and noble hearted in all his relations, hut he is unpunctual. You must five him a margin of perhaps some hours in all your appointments with him, and then think yourself lucky if yon get him at the end. He it a practice to begin to dress at the hour of invitation, and he fives half a dosea miles from everywhere.—AM As Year Bound. To loose your watch interferes with your pleasure, at least it prevents you. from having a good time. The object some wives have in blowing up their husbands is doubtless to have them come down. The proof of the adage that time is money is found in the lack that times change. Queen Victoria is unpretending enough now, but no one can deny that she has given hereof b.eyja, be What Bind off Land should Ploughed to Autumn ? We clip the following; from, the New York Semi-Weekly Times;, f There is nothing f^s ined, but a great loss sustained, in many instances, by ploughing land in autumn. For this reason, a farmer should knov^.witboot experimenting, wheth er it will be better V > speed the plough in the fall than to defer it till spring. The follow ing suggestions may be of some service to be ginners, in aiding ‘.hem to determine when to plough and whoa not to plough in autumn: Light, sandy lor .ms which rest on a porous subsoil shook! nr ver be ploughed in either early or late, autu mn when grain is not to be put in. There is nothing gained by plough ing light lnnd of any kind in autumn. As a general 1 role, ploughing such land in autumn or winter doe s not exert any ameliorating effect upon the productiveness of the land. When there is so much sand ip the soil that it may be ploughed, even when tbdtt is an excess of water in it,; without any fear that tho surface will bake and become cloddy, the land should neVoefxr ploughed in. autumn. On the contrary, when thd ecu has only a limited proportion of elay and lime in it, by ploughing in autumn the pro ductiveness may be largely increased. In many instances, if land' be ploughed up neatly and deep in late autunm^tbe ameliora ting influenceof the alternate Jeosta and rains of winter will be so marked?, that tbe land which was ploughed in late autumn will fre quently produce quite aa la$ge a crop, with out the application of any,fertilizer, as the same ground would yield if a dressing of manure were applied whflu the ground is ploughed in the spj be greatly impro Vs the frost wilt bi furrow slices and 1 land on the slopes ploughed at any freezes ojfopril) not seqi ing next Axgpg, p»vi< performed an a neat and ner. If the land, is in should be taken to cu t deeper than the plough ha hand will laughing, of the heavy fivers, u ground loogh- liJm-tnan- ruu, il that so as to turn op,a little of, ,, has never been .brought to the anrfaoe. Speed the plough. A Gentleman, riding, came to tbe edge of Ateoraea which he considered not sate. Seeing, a peasant lad, he asked whether the cog wap hard at the bottom. “O, you, quite mard,” replied the youth. The gentleman vodeoa, out the horse be gan, to sink. “You rascal,” shouted he, d»d; you not say it was hard at the bot tom?’’ “So it is,” rejoined the rogue, “but you’re not half way to it yet,” An old lady, hearing of a pedestrian's “great feat,” wondered why they didn’t interfere with his fast walking. It doesn’t follow that a man dislikes his bed because he turns his back upon ih A Clock having struck the hour of one, a tenderhearted woman exclaimed: “O, what a cruel < - kF “Why so?” asked a friend “BeoatMe ii sfcruek Ha little oner mother. •*- \ /V