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VOL. VI. THE APPEAL. I'UBLJSHED EVERY FRIDAY, By J. P. SAWTEII. Terms of Subscription: One Year. invariably in advance. XW No attention paid to orders for the pa- utdess accotnpanied by the Cash. Rates of Advertising : One square, (ten lines or tees.) $1 00 for tile Virst and 75 cents for each sulisequent inter lion. A liberal deduction made to parties Who advertise by the year. Cergonssoridiiip aiivertiseinentssiiou(,a mark t/nn number of limes tliey' desire them insei *?,eit, or they will be continued until forbid and ■~haiq{ed accordingly. Transient advertisementß’mtist be paid for at the time of insertion. If not, paid for before the expiration Os the time advertised, 25 per ‘cent, additional will he charged. • Announcin*t names of candidates for office, $5.00. Cash, in all eases Obituary notices over live lilies, charged at regular advertising ra*e«j All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, Bo x-.ietffis, or individuals, will l>6 charged as ad Vertisements. , , *'. , Job Woiuv, such as Pamphlets. Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills.etc., will be- execu ted in good style and at, reasonable iates. All letfers addressed to the Proprietor wiH be promptly attended 15. Hy jHiOther. A helpless babe who nursed me then, And gave me paregoric,when , I wept with pain, till well hg«in 1 My Mother. And when her precious infant, smiled, Who called me “angel, I 's “darling child,” And laughed and wept- in transport wild ? • .' My Mother. And when the colic vexed me tore, r TVho whan at midnight walked the floor, -And in her aims her baby bore? My Mother. Who let me dojust what I choose, Aiftl dressed me up in. fancy clothes, And taught me how (o wipe my.im.-e T My Mother. And wflclied me still with anxious core, And washed tny face, and curled tftV l air, And seC me in my little chair ? - My Mother. And who rny youthful laxly hent Across the knee—oh, sad event! • And spanked me to her heart's content ? My Mother.* And when T cut my flag 1 r who Broughf me salvo to'soolhe it and cure il too, • And checked tnv juvenile boo-lioo ? * My Mother. And when at school I made my way. • Who heard my lessons day by day, Os L’uget Sound and. Baffin's Bay '! My Mother. And when, my pony just in play Ran off and earned wo away, Who viewed the scene with great dismay ? .My Mother. And when he kicked with nil his might, And threw.me'higher than a kite, Who fainted and fell down with fright ? • My Mother.. Who gently said it was not right To set the dog and Cat to tight. 'To laugh at such a wicked sight ? Mv Mother. Though she is old' and aril alone, And I to he a li'aa have grown, 'Who* calls me still her boy —her own-? __ My Mother. . The Fascinatitm oFCiiiß««- ltood A beauliffll, lovely woman is. ftl xvays an object irrosistabiy enchant ing, the grace and nobility of well proportioned manhood, gives birth to a proud feeling of the 'majesty of human nature, but there is some thing more intimately allied tQ our ,imaginings-of angelio existence in the street- purity of a beautiful child. There is a mingling of innocence mnd purity, a something in a beauti-. ful child that satisfies the most re fined and deli cate fancy, something that baffles the severest criticism. Its radient face, like a polished mir ror, flashes out every emotion of Its heart; the chilling doubt, the cold suspicion, tlie-gloom of guilt never clouds the radient countenance all is summer glow and mellow sun-, shine. It loves and smiles upon all in its fearless innocence, and as we gaze upon the bright and beautiful features the feeling of affection, ad miration and delight spring unbid den, into existence. Once in a while these fresh jewels of child hood, ofextraordinary beauty meet you in your sight, as an angel sud denly clothed in flesh f chasing away •as if by magic, all melancholy, let ting in a sunbeam upon the heart that is cherished in memory, long after the beautiful vision has passed away from sight. A beautiful child with its unstud led attitude and grace, fasciuates-all beholders', and is a feast to every eye that has a true sense of inno cent grace §nd beauty*. —Every parent is like a looking glass for his children to dress them selves by. Therefore, • parents should take care to keep the glass bright and clear, not dull and spot ted, as their good example is a rich inheritance for the rising genera tion. m ’ For the Catkbert Appeal. A Tour Through Texas, OB . Information for Emigrants. GENERAL REMARKS ON TEXAS. It will he seen that nearly all the agricultural productions in the oth er States of tlfe Union are raised in ■ every one of the Counties, of this Slate, except only' the stock-raising counties of the extreme • west; but that the counties in the different subdivisions of the. State, such as Northern, Northeastern, Middle, Western, Southwestern, and North western Texas, differ as regards their adaptation to diffeiient prod ucts and in the amount of their yield, owing •chiefly to- difference of climate, but, also partly to differ ence of soil *. | Corn is a univerfftl product, and is raised tv op by the stock, men of the far west to supply their own wants. Potatoes and most vegeta bles are also raised all 6vei y the State, though -some counties pro duce much larger crop's than others. Bailey, oats-, and. rye are grown Successfully in probably two third 6s of the counties, while wheat does not succeed well- except in the Northern counties, embracing about one third of the agricultural por , tion of the State,. Sugar cane is not profitably’ grown except in the alluvial or bottom lands, and hence nearly all the larger sugar planta tions are found in the rich alluvial counties near . the coast between Oyster creek and the Brazos on the ‘cast, and the Colorado oi; the west. But this crop is hoUV being extend ed up the alluvial valleys of the Trinity and many other rivers, and promises to become a profitable and staple product in a large number of the river counties to the distances! one or two hundred miles from the coast.- It will bo seen In; the forth coming (lescvijdion of the counties that the great sta;4e of "cotton' is •mentioned-as a leading product Aof nearly all of (hem. The fact is, j Texas is more emphatically a cot-’ ! ton State • than any other in the South. Nearly all its vast extent of l icit soil is w ithin, the paralles of latitude best adapted to co-tton all oyer the world; and -I am entirely % within the"bounds of truth ‘in - say ing that Texas fins far more rich virgin sod adapted to cotton than all the other States put together. The valuable* timber region of Texas-is chiefly confined to some twelve or fifteen counties of East ern Texas—pinejuid cypress being the chief timbers find the. most val* .liable. But it will be seen that all the "settled counties' have more .or less of timber, and generally enough, for fuel and fencing; but for build ing purposes, the timber of the Western counties is not generally suitable, except in some" few coun ties be'ow. Austin-on the Colorado, where there' is considerable pine, and in other counties llicro are; pretty large bodies. of -Cedar and •sifme post oak ai'rd others suitable lor building. . Steam saw-nrills are. found in all the counties where the' timber eaipbe used for hauling, and •from these mills the timber js hauled-from fifty to one hundred and fifty miles to the more western counties, destitute of suitable, tim ber and sold at SlO, SSO, SOO and even SSO, per thousand feet, accord ing to the expense of hauling. At th*e mills the lumber sells at from sls to S2B per one thousand feet. The beautiful' pecan-tree grows nearly all over' tie State, but more abundantly along the .rivers of •Western Texas than in other parts. Thousands of bushels of peftans are gathered annually in the west and exported, bringing a revenue to the. State of several hundred thousand dollars. Bine black walnut and ash are found in many of the timbered bottoms, and also live oak and nearly a dozen other varieties of oak. The wild peach • generally abounds in the richest and. alluvial lands in the-lower counties, so like wise the wild cane. Those who. are acquainted with the. extensive, and naked prairies of the North western States will find 'that the prairies of Texas presented quite a favorable contrast to them. Though we have prairies of considerable ex tent, yet the travelers here are. scarcely ever out of sight of timber in various directions. Nearly ev ery stream in the Statens bordered with a fine growth of timber vary ing in width from a few hundred feet to eight or ten miles,’ accord; ing to the size of (.lie rivej. But there aie also small groves, usually I called “ Motts,” of timber scalter- I cd over nearly every prairie of the CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 21, 1872. west. Nearly every dwelling or farm house in the State is built con tiguous 1o timber, sufficient for all ordinary .purposes. There is no such treeless and vast expanses of dreary prairies as are seen in Illi nois, lowa, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and other Northwestern States and territories, where no Texan would consent t-o live, even if the lauds were given to him, and coin polled to pay So or $8 a cord for fuel dur ing the long and severe winters of that region. There arc very many wild fruits iit -Texas, the most of them I have mentioned heretofore. Fish in great abundance are found in the rivers of Texas and along the whole seacoast. The freshwater 'fish are chiefly the-bass, trout, perch, cat and buffalo; and the salt-water, the red-fish trout, white fish, croak ers, sheep head, flounder, cat and dr.uni fish ; and the finest oysters abound on the whole coast; also cTabs; and sea turtles weighing from one hundred to four hundred ' pounds each,-are frequently caught, and'are seen in all the seaports, of Texas. ’ f Texas abounds with a large vari ety of wild game, such as buffalo, deer, squirrels, rabbit, wild geese, pigeon, dbve, the mallatk’ and can vass backed ducks, the sand-hill crane, the prairie hen, wild, turkey, etc. No where ej.se havfi I ever see n wild turkey in so great abun dance, and last but by no moans least the mule eared rabbit. , T. M. A. I C'Hi’e lor Sivcry.lßriiiß.k -.sl*'! < • 1. Eat comfortable meals at reg ular hours, partaking especially of farinaceous • food, vegetables and fruits three times "a day. 2. Exercise regularly, bat so as not to induce fatigue. 3. Have regular and* long sleep, going to bed and rising at regular hours,'and.take sleep about noon.' 4. Keep the mind as much inter estefl and amused as possible bv harmless games, sports, etc.. 5. Take a warm bath dally about II A. M, if convenient. . "' 6. Break up all old associations. 7. Keep away from old resorts. S' Quit chewing at'd smoking to bacco, for this, blunts the moral sense, and ■ make the imagination dull. .‘Liquor makes.Xhe ideal fac ulty wild unsettled, while tobacco’ makes it obtuse’. 9. Never forget that if yo'u are to be anew man you must have new i leas, and these must be such as to make you discard the use of alcohol in all' -its forms. Do not take it ;is a medicine any more than a beverage, fop it will re-awaken the, old desire in the one‘case as readi .ly as in the other. General Wolfe. —The oelebra? tefl General Wolfe invited a Scotch officer to dine with himg the same day he was also invited by some ' brother officers. “ You must exeusej me,”'said lie to them; “ I am already engaged' to. Wolfe.” *. | A smart young ensign .observed | that he might as well have express ed himself with more respect, and said: “ General Wolfe.” .“Sir,” oahi the- ,Scotch officer with,great promptitude, “we never say ‘General Alexander’ or ‘general Caesar.’. ” Wolfe, who was within hearing, by a low bow to the Scotel! officer, acknowledged the pleasure he felt at the high compliment. Work and Win.— Whatever you try to do in life, try with all your heart to do well; whatever you devote yourself to, devote your self to completely; in great aims and small, be thoroughly in earnest.' Never believe it possible that any natural or improved ability can claim immunity from the compan ionship of the steady, plain, hard working qualities, and hope to gain its end. There is no.such thing as such fulfillment on this earth. Some .happy talent and some .fortunate' opportunity, may form the two hap py sides of the- ladder on which ■some men mount, but the rounds of that ladder must be made to stand wear and tear ; and .there is no sub stitute for thorough going, ardent and sincere " earnestness. Never put one hand to anything on which you cannot throw your whole self; never affect depreciation of your work,, whatever it is. These you will find to be golden rules. One hour lost in the morning will put back all the business of the day ; one hour gained by vising cur ly will make one month iu the year. Marrying' a Foi'tuiie. ‘Have you heard the news about Miss Temple, Ned ?’ said Charlie Ashton, as lie sauntered leisurely up to the desk which Edward Farn harn occupied in Smith & Jones’ of fice on Wall street. The warm blood colored Ned’s face in spite of all his struggles to .prevent he replied : ‘No, I hope no harm.’ ‘Well I should guess it wasn’t. Come, put up your books, and* as we go up town I’ll tell you.’ ‘No ; I cannot leave yet,. I have not* finished my balance.’ ‘Oil, pshaw! finish that to-morrow before ten o’clock. I woulden’t work as hard as you do for any living, and much less for those bankers, who think all a fellow’s made for is’ to work and make money for them.' Com.e. along.’ fNo ; I cannot go.’ ‘Well then the.-tale is short, she’s had a big fortune left her, some say Live hundred thousand dollars. An involuntary sigh escaped fted and he Father muttered than spoke: ‘l’m sorry to hear it.’ ‘Why what’s.got into you? Sorry? Why, l haven’t heard anything that pleased me so much in many- a day-. I always liked the girl, but .1 am not philosopher enough to marry her for love alone. My doctrine is when poverty comes in at the win dow, love goes out at the door-.’ ‘I am afraid that I don’t agree with you in such things, but I have now. Misg Temple, in my opinion, would be a fertilise for any man, did she not possess a qenfi of mon -‘Pshaw, Ned; (hat’s old fogy. Love in a cottage ! ha! ha! Well, I liked her .pretty well before," but I can’t help thinking her attractions j- very greatly enlarged since I Jjeard j that ne\ys. I never should have j thought-of any thing but a plqas ; ant acquaintance— guess i’ll go for | her now. Goad bye, old fellow, and [ don’t hurt yourself working over j those books.’ . *. * j Ned tirade no' reply, -but felt as if !he would like to grind beneath Ins : heel onepvho-could speak so irrev erently of her who, in his ijea t coni' j billed every grace of beast and mind j and perfection of form, add feature, which should make up a perfect woman. Ilis thought turned to ac tiofijlind he caught- himself stum ping his heel bn the desk stool with suchjbrce as almost.to dent a hide jin it, aud looking up saw’ Mr. ! Smith’s steady gaze fixed'oh him. j ‘Back to his work he tried to, | bring his thoughts, but they were | not subject to his will, and he found I ■•himself in great danger of writing the thoughts passing through his mind. ‘She is lost to me now. Olq how I wish it had never happened!’ .Up had closed tht book, put away the papers, and, with that dreary, j lost, far away kind of look, passed ! qnheedingly among the throng on i the money mart of the world. - Charley Ashton lost no time in his opportunities, for that night found him 'seated tete-a-tete with Miss Temple, in a cosy little room in Twenty-first ’street. - Miss Temple was an orphan, and for years-liv.cd with her aunt—her father’s-sister. An income 'of four j hundred dollars a year had been left, which at least supplied all nec essary wants. She was not asham ed to assist her aunt about, many things some would call VnCtriaT; and In form and feature, heart and mind all her acquaintances said, fully sus tained the high opinion we have seen Ned Barbara had of her. Ere (he evening was over, CJiar ley Ashton had succeeded in ap pearing deeply in lave, and not many days had passed ere he had proposed and was accepted. Os all her male acquaintances, Miss Tem ple bad always preferred tin? tw 0 young men mentioned. It was true «he had rather leaned to the gpiiet Mr. Farnham, but of late be had ceased to visit Her, while Mr. Ash ton’s presence had beeu almost con stant. Hence she persuaded her self that she loved him, and accep ted him. 'Charlc'y urged a speedy marriage, which came about in a conversa tion too long for me to detail, where in-it appeared that‘some of the ‘boys’ on the ‘street’ were fixing up a pool to buy. ft certain- stock, and our. friend Ashton wanted some of the live hundred thousand dollars'! to put in it. Miss Temple [ refer red a longer time, urging that time would make them Know each other bettor, especially in the* intimate re lation they now stood. Charley 1 vowed that he knew that time could Lever develop any. faults in her. ‘But,’ said Miss Temple, ‘there is another reason, and I think I can be free with, you now; I have spent so itmcb of iny little irreome, and aujit has‘no spare money—that I have no means of defraying nee essary expenses.’ ‘But you have the fortune, left you by your California uncle, even if you have not received, if, your agents will certainly ' an ad vance.’ ‘I have no fortune, dear Charley. Some "thought ft was mine; but the fortune to which -you probably al lude w;Ts left to my cousin, Miss Tompson Temple, to-whom. I intro duced you at the Philharmonic.’ Ah,’ it was, indeed ! She is a fa vored young Indy;; but now much does she receive ?’ ‘Report said five hundred thous and and liars, bit c.iu.-in Nan lias, been inforniea by the agent that there is but ten thousand dollars in money—the rest in houses and lots in San Francisco,.valued ninety thousand dollars.’ ‘Ah!. well, really, how 1-hCSe tilings spread. But to our matter I guess, Miss Anna, yon-had better have your own way.’ The hours of that evening drag ged . heavily along, and cn they lengthened, Charley Ashton-s man tier became more formal. He left, and Anna’s warm heart thought over the'cook tounnor and the cool er parting. No sleep came to her eyes that night. . ‘Can it be ?’ she said to herself a thousand times; and yet it- must, for his manner changed almost'from my telling him of Nannie’s for tune.’ .- ' ' . , , - • The next night came, and Char ley was uo’ti» his. usual [dace, and the next also. About a week after .ward, a short note informed Miss Temple that having lost all his sav ings in a bad speculation, lie should not think of holding licit’ to an en gagement winch would be out of his ppwer.to consummate in years. To spy this did not grieve her would be false, but it did not re quire ljfm’y days to teach her that she had not-loved Charley Ashton as she should the man , she was to marry. -Vgai:i our two yotfpg ’men met, this time u:i Broadway. Charley, gaily sauntering along, hailed Ned in the old familiar way: ‘ Vi ell, bid boy, off early to-day.’ ‘ I’ve been promoted, 'and am not obliged to work so late, though I often do ; I am going riding in the park ; my head has ached much of late, and I am more nervous than formerly.’- * Shouldn’t work so hard ; don’t get Any tlianks'fOr it. By the -by, that fortune of Miss Temple’s turns out to be all in my eye.’ ■ . ‘How—what’s that?’ was- the eager reply. ‘ Well, a Miss Somebody Temple bad about .one hundred thousand dollars left her, but it wasn’t our pretty little friend.’ 1 But I beard you were attentive, some said engaged.’ * ‘ There’s no telling what mi«-ht have been, but for the fool of an aunfmaking a mistake in names. — However, it’s all over now. . You know that I, at least, can’t afford to marry, if she is a Peri. I know •you- entertain sonic sort of a foolish notion that love, etc., will do, but it’s all bosh. Give me the dimes, my boy. When poverty comes in at-the window,- etc., you know.— Take my advice, and drop all such foelish ideas.’ . ! Ashton might ns well have .talk ed to the .!imp-po.st, for all the hear ing jKed Farnham did. - What he was thinking of we cannot say, but h'e did not go to the park that af ternoon, and the .evening found him in the little parlor which had so oft en bben graced by* Charley’s pies ence. Ere the evening had p*assed, he explained his long absence, told her of his better prospects, and of fered his.heart and hand. She ask ed three .weeks to consider,' he to visit her as often as' he pleased.— After,that time lie was accepted, and Annie learn what true love was. Here my story might end, but there is a*sequel.* Some.mouths af ter the. engagement, 'Mr. Smith tapped Ned.on the shoulder, and motioned him to the private office. ‘ Going to marry my niece?’ said that gentleman. i £ I am engaged to Miss Anna Temple, sir, and. *we expect in a quiet wa’y to be married, one month li'orn to day. ButT was not aware that she was your niece.’ Keith.;-\v.is I until a few days since. As for your quiet way, ua* det stand me, sir, the child of my only sister can be married nowhere else but in my house. Come, now, no flinching, I’ve heard all about it. But she’s poor—poor as Job’s’ tur key ; and I’ve too many children to give her more than,a decent wed ding.’- Ned did not understand tjie ex pression on Mr. Smith’s face, but lie felt a little angered, and replied: ‘ I should never have addressed her, and I would release her this moment if I knew she was an heir ess.’ ‘No, you don’t. I know you, and I know the whole story. You can go.’ Ned pondered long'over this "sin gular conversation, but no satisfac tion came from his own thoughts or from Anna. She replied b\ r a smile or a kiss. Notwithstanding all the urging of her new-found un cle, Anna refused to leave her aunt uutil Lite time for the wedding.— The event came, and the ceremony was over. Then Mr. Smith called, the young couple into the library, and drawing from his safe a strong iron Lion, said : “Now, young .man, you’re tied hard and fast, and I'll tell you that you’ve got an heiress, aud a rich one, too. A foolish brother of her father’s, one who would go to Cali fornia, took it into his head to die, not 'eng since, and left such a botch ed up will that it has taken six months to got the straight of it. We were his agents, and 'kept the matter to ourselves, because jt was a large sum aud might create impostors. We soon disposed of the one hundred -thousand dollars to Miss Amyi Thompson Temple;' but the contents of this box, five hundren thousand dollars, in bonds, we used more scrutiny in assign ing, and in the course of our inves tigation, 1 not only found the right ful owner pf our trust, but the child trf my only sis for. Sir, you* arc worthy’of her, and what is less, her fortune. The morning papers will announce you as. a partner, in our house.” il&iue Sister Intlsiesace, Who can measure the influence of sister in the home of her childhood and youth. The sweett’purity, .the devotion to truth, the constancy of affection and the disinterested love of a sister, exerts an influence over Urn boys, incalculable in its results. Docs the sister know that her seem ingly rude and careless brother, who eelighis to tease her at every oppor tunity; looks upon you as the pride of his heart, that beneath ail' the careless vexation and storm of au thority, there is an undercurrent of unfaltering affection that would de fend you from all harm, and to the last extremity, and avo be to him* who would offend against you in his presence. The boys think they have a birth right to storm, dictate and govern all around them, but you can make them think they do sa while , you may tell them how to do it. When days and years' shall have swept by, through all the storm, and ■sunshine, when passing through temptations and encountering many a lowering tempest, ''your sweet face will thine out and upon Jiis soul as the face of an angel, and your voice like the subdued, mel low tones of the lute will float through all the chambers of his .heart waking memories of youth’s halycion days that will then mas ter a]l his thoughts and control his c.utfvard and inner life, the voice of love calling him from the skies ie the ways of integrity, truth, and happiness. Sincerity is speaking . as \we think, believing as wo pretend, act* ing as we profess, performing as we promise, and being as \ve ap. pear to be.— Two little girls, were lately prattling together, and one of them said: - “We keep four servants, have got six horses and lots of car riages ; now what have you got ?” With quite as much pride as the other she answered, “-We’ve got a skunk under our barn.” —“See.here, Jim Brown, did you ever say that my father hadn’t as much sense as Sam. Smith’s yaller dog ?” “No, I never said no such thing. Fsaid that Sain. Smith’s' yaller dog-had no more sense than your father ever had —and that’s every word . I said.” “AYell, it’s lucky you didn't say the other tiling, I tell you !” As. newly wedded couple received the following congratulatory tele-' gram: “Congratulations on your nuptials; may all your troubles be Lit tle ones/’ Ilai'sh Words. Harsh words can never die, Deeply they rest. In all their rankling power Down in the breast. What though one may torgiye, And all regret be met With kind response, alas! Nor.e can forget. , , Harsh words will darkly rise . In happiest hours. Rank thorrs in memory's path, • Crashing the flowers. Rank weeds whose poisonous breath < Mildew and'blight unfold, Wasting the heart like death, Chilling and cold. Ilarsii words once spoken, stand, Tear drops that fall On ocean's foiling waves, \V.ho can recall ? So by nnkindness moved, Deeply (lie heart feel Wounds, which though pardoned all, Nothing can heal. Oh. then'beware, beware. Weigh well each word, Lest in some tender breast Anguish be stirred; Lest when.’lii?all too late, Thou wouldst call back again Harsh words whoso memory . Mocks thee in vain. Veiioih oY Toad*. At file risk of increasing the young ladys horror of toads, we venture to repeat the story which a British paper brings us. It says that the toad does in reality pos sess venom capable of killing cer tain animals and injuring man. This poison is not, as is generally thodght, secreted by the mouth; it is a sort of cutaneous secretion, which acts powerfully if the skin be abraded at the time of contact Dogs which bite toads soon give bowls of pain. Smaller animals coming under the influence of the Venom undergo true norcotic pois oning, soon followed by convulsions and death. Experiments show that the matter exuding from' tlm parotid region of the < toad becomes poisonous when introduced into the tissues. Some savages in South - America use the acid fluid of the cutaneous gland# of the toad for their poisoned arrows. The venom exists in a somewhat large quantity on the- toad’s back. Treated with -either, it dissolves, leaving a residuum, which contains a toxic power' sufficiently strong, even after complete dissection, to kill a small bird. l?otas3a for Potatoes. In a recent address, Dr. Nichols, of the Journal of Chemistry, alluded 'to the “.detororation in our potato crop during the past twenty years,” and made the following explana tion regarding the causes of this falling off: I have a field of potatoes upon my farm which I expect will yield 300 bushels to the acre, which may be regarded as an old fashioned crop. I know that this crop will re move from the soil, in- tupers and tops, at least 400 pounds of potash. I am also certain it will remove 150 pounds of phosphoric acid. Now these amounts are very large, and serve to show that the potato plant is a great consumer of the two sub stances; and also, it shows that in order to restore our potato fields to their former productive condition, we must supply phosphatic com pounds and substances holding pot ash iu large quantities. For six or eight generations in New England, our fathers have been .exhausting soil, by removing these agents in their potato and other crops, and we have reached a time when the vegetables are starving in our fields f<H - want of their proper food. Our farmers have found that new land gives the best crops, and this is due to the fact that such 'fields afford the most potash. But-so long .as ire crop our potatoes .so 'unreason ably, we cannot resort to new land, as land is not new .that has had its potash and phosphatic ele ments removed by* grazing animals.. Remember that a potato field which gives but 100 bushels to the acre, requires at least IGD pounds of pot ash, but by allowing the tops to decay upon the field; GO pounds of thi3 is restored to the soil again/as that amount is contained in them. A medium crop of potatoes requires twice as much phosphoric acid as a medium crop of wheat, so that in two years with wheat, the laud is deprived of no more of the agent than it loses in one year with pota toes. - A public speaker lately tried to give his hearers a definite idea of eternity, in the following man ner : “Why, my friends, after milHStns and millions of years have glided into eternity, it will be a hundred thousand years till break fast time.” NO 25. Gos*ip About A. T. Stew art. Speaking of his adaptability for business, the great merchant prince said that for many years he had the utmost distaste for business, so much so that he disliked the task even of purchasing articles for his own personal use, that he hated to go and buy a pair of gloves. That Mr. Stewart has managed to over come this repugnance to trade was exhibited in the statement, in reply to a question, that he now employed twenty-five hundred persons, had crossed the ocean thirty five times and had sold upward of $75,000 worth of goods at retail in one day. Mr. Stewart stated that his ambi, lion was to make the sales at his up town store Teach SIOO,OOO per day, lie keeps busy about five hundred porters, and has delivered from his retail store as many as five thou sand packages in one day. At this establishment he has eleven hun dred employes. Mr. Stewart ap pears to carry the responsibility of his enormous business with perfect ease, comprehending much of its vast details-and miautiie in a most remarkable manner He is a hearty, well-preserved man of about seventy years, and looks as though he might enjoy the blessings of life for a good many seasons yet to • come. Bad Air. Air, the breath of life, is the first want of the hugian being, and it is also the fast. At every pulsation during life we need this life-sustain ing clement. Yet one would sup pose, by the bad ventilation of houses, chtmdies, aud tlicatfes, that a man was made to live without air---at least, that it was a matter of indifference whether Be had much or little, or whether it was good or bad. We read in the papers- of the death of persons front suffocation in wells, mines, or by escaping gas, and we are startled, wondering why people will, be so careless; yet thousands of -people die by inches, or only half live, in consequence of the impurity of the air which they breathe. If one is shut up in a. small room without any admission of fresh air, air cotained within the room soon becomes ira. purer by h iving been breathed over and over, and very great lassitude or depression of life and spirits is the consequence. The blood re quires to bo revitalized constantly within the lungs by coming in con* tact with atmospheric air. Indeed, that is the whole office of the lungs, to aerate or revitalized the blood (which is there met by the atmos pheric air), and change it from dark venous blood to brigla scarlet as - blood, thus preparing it to carry life to every part and tissue of the system. In the lungs the blood loses many of its impurities, and takes on the life-giving oxy gen from the air ; and in proportion as the air is abundant and pure which we breathe, in propor lon we have the glow of health and the enthusiasm of living which comes from well-vitalized blood. Greatest Iron Works in thb World.: —Krurp’s great Iron Work's, at Es%*u, Germany, cover nearly eight square miles, and one and a half miles under cover, 'fhey furnish.employment for ten thou sand men, who do their work under a discipline as strict as that of mil itary service. Castings weighing forty tons have been made soverai times in these works, and ton and twelve-ton blocks, are overy day sights. There arc forty-nine ham mers in the works, of which four of live are twenty-fivef tons, three or four fifteen’tons, and a large num ber five and ten tons. The greatest * ol all.the hammers is a wonder, and cost $500,000. Its foundation, is one hundred feet deep, consisting of three tires—the first constructed of solid masonry, the second of the heaviest and stoutes oaks to be found in all Germany, and the third of cylindrical segments of cast iron, upon which the anvil blocks rest. The head of the hammer weighs fifty tons, its face of steel, and in the making of it, after the steel had been cast, and while it was molten, cast iron was poured into it from the baclv Everything that belongs * to it is in duplicate and triplicate. For steam cranes .serve it, and these are each tested to beat forty-ton ingots, which are the largest cast. In 18(50, sixty one thousand tons of steel were turned out from these works.— Exchange. —When is a school-boy like a post age stamp? When he gets licked and put in a corner to make him stick to his letters. *