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lliiMfe Hwrgw Jkmts, W. F. SMITH, Publisher. Y T OLUME VIII. OLD LETTERS. by b. m. a package of letters, All faded and yellow with age, But their lines I always will cherish, i hough famine and war may wage. For a friend has kindly spoken The words that they contain, And our ties—they are now broken;— But, perhaps we will meet again. And now for years, I have kept them— J hey have always been dear to my heart; Sometimes I think i’ll destroy them So memories from me’ll depart. ’Tis then I am cruelly reminded, In after years to come. That when I feel sad, ’twill made my heart glad, To read the old letters again. When my course in life has run, And from Mother Earth has fled, The friend who wrote those lines to me, I hope—will think of me when I’m dead. OUR COUSIN JACK. “lie grows handsomer every day,” ex claims Aunt Deborah. “Do you think so. aunt?” “I don’t think anything about it—lam sure lie does. ” I smile, hut say nothing in answer to my aunt’s very positive assertion. “It's very strange,” she sharply, for she had noticed my smile, and it has apparently nettled her. “Its very strange that you should have alter ed in vonr opinion so much of late.” “How altered?” I answer, coloring up. “Don’t pretend you do not under stand me,” responds Aunt Deborah, sharply. “1 don’t wish to pretend anything,” is my reply. “Well, Jane, wo won’t have words about it. I cannot hear disagreeables, especially with those whom I love; but you know quite well that was a time when your Cousin Jack was everything in your eyes, and I believe everything in your heart, too, but of late you seem to have changed towards him in the most extraordinary manner imaginable.” “1 am sure you are mistaken, Aunt Deborah,” I answer, nerviouslv. “Jack is just the same in my eyes as he ever was. ” “But not the same in vour heart, child, eh ?” “Really, aunt—” “Oh, don’t be affected or foolish, my dear Jane; you know I cannot bear any thing of the kind. Your Cousin Jack was very dear to you not so many weeks ago—aye, it is as lately as weeks only, so you need not exclaim with astonish ment when I suggest something of the kind.” “I like Jack very much, I know,” is my reply, my eyes still attentively fixed upon my work, and the tell-tale color still suffusing my cheeks. “Like him, indeed,” exclaimed Aunt Deborah contemptuously. “You used to love him, and you cannot truthfully deny it.” “I love him still, aunt, as—as—” “As what?” “Asa brother.” Aunt Deborah laughs outright, a scornful, disbelieving, and, I must own, a most aggravating laugh. “Asa brother !” she exclaims, echoing my words. “Dear me! What a nice way of putting it. Asa brother!” Then she adds more sternly: “Do you think, Jane, you can deceive me by that worn-out evasion; that paltry exchange-offering which women are so lond of proffering to the man whom they have ceased to love, or whom they have led to believe they loved, but iu reality have never cared about at svll ? you thiuk I have lived iu this deceitful world for tive-and-fffty-vears, and am to be taken in by any such rubbish as that?” “I m sine I don’t wish to take you in, aunt.” “Don t you, really? It’s very good of you to say so, I’m sure, but if you don’t wish to take me in, it’s a pity you should endeavor to do so palpably.” 1 rise to leave t ie room, but my aunt, as I anticipated, v/iil not part with me on such easy terms. “Please don’t leave the room at pre sent; I have more to say to you.” I reseat myself with a subdued sigh of impatience. “So you don’t think your Cousin Jack grows handsomer every day ?” “I think he is the same in appearance as usual,” I reply. “But people can grow handsomer in other things, as well as in personal ap pearance,” responded Aunt Deborah. “Of course they can.” say I. “They can grow handsome in their actions,” observes my aunt, “By which I suppose you mean no ble?” I question. “Precisely.” There is a slight pause, during which I feel that my aunt has been eying me keenly; but I do not look up from the work I have resumed. “I think,” says my aunt at last, “that his conduct is most noble towards you. ” “He is always very kind,” I faltered out. “He is more than very kind.” says Aunt Doborah. “He is very charitable towards you. “I know he is,” I answer. “The last present he made me is—” “Present!’ screams my aunt, indig nantly. “What on earth do you mean by referring to presents? What have trumpery gifts got to do with charity? Are you resolved to drive me mad with your evasions, your shallow false preten sions? You know perfectly well what I mean when I speak of this charity to wards you. If lie were not the most charitable-minded young fellow in the world, he would scorn and despise you for your treatment of him, which is dis graceful in the extreme.” ‘I am sure—” I commence. Dmttd to Industrial Inter*st, the Diffusion of Troth, the Establishment of Justice, and the Preserration of a People’s Government, “Hush !” cries Aunt Deborah; “I will not be interrupted. For months and months, you and your Cousin Jack have perfectly understood each other. He hus (and may Heaven help him out of his misfortune) loved you with all the strength of his generous heart for these three years or more—in fact, from the first day on which he was unlucky enough to meet you. And you, too, were always partial to him from’the first; and during the last year by your manner, even when in the presence of others to my knowledge, showed him sufficient preference to lead him to believe you reciprocated his affection. How much further have you led him on by word of mouth, I don’t pretend to know; but doubtless you have said hundreds of loving words to him in your time. But now your ladyship suddenly takes it into your head to show indifference for this noble-hearted fellow. I call him noble hearted because he merits it, and not only out of any sentimental prejudice. He sees the change in you—if he were not blind, he could not help seeing it. 1 see the change in you; and I see what an alteration in him that change has made. He is not the same man. And I, as the only relative lie has left who cares two pins about him, wish to know what has caused this fickleness on your part.” “You speak as though Cousin Jack and I were engaged,” I answered indig nantly. “And so you were, virtually,” retorts my aunt. “He never asked me to be his wife,” I answer. “He never asked you!” responds Aunt Deborah with infinite scorn. * ‘Per haps you will have the assurance to tell me you did not know that he loved you. Now, look here, Miss Jane Fleming, I have had enough of this. Your cousin, Jack Randall, has been as deal* to me as a son for years past. He was my favor ite sister’s only son, and when she was on her deatli-bed I promised faithfully to do my best for her child. You are the only daughter of my dear brother. I promised him on his death-bed to take charge of you. I have tried to do my best.” “ You have ever been—” I commence, my eyes filling with tears, and a pang of remorse shooting through my heart for ever having said a word or committed an act that could wound Aunt Deborah’s gentle spirit. But Aunt Deborah interrupts me. “I don’t need any thanks,” she ex claims; “I have oijy done my duty. Answer me one question, and this pain ful subject shall be dropped. Do you love anyone else? Are you fonder of any one than you are of Jack?” My color mounts to my forehead. “No,” I reply. My aunt rises, and putting her arms about my neck, kisses me affectionately. “Thank Heaven for that, my dear,” she says with much emotion. ” And so the conversation ends. Aunt Deborah’s house is situated on the parade at Ramsgate. I have lived with her for more than seven years, and she has proved a mother to me iu every way. I have to-day, for the first time in my life, told her a deliberate false hood. I do love someone better than Cousin Jack. This afternoon I mean to meet him on the beach. He has asked me to bo his wife, and I have all but consented. Ours have been clandestine meetings. To own the truth, I spoke to him without a formal introduction. One afternoon, when I was alone upon the sands, he made an excuse for speak ing to me. He warned me of the in coming tide, saying he feared I might be surrounded. Since then our meetings have been frequent; since then my feel ings for Cousin Jack have grown colder and colder. It is afternoon, the afternoon of the same day on which I have told Aunt Deborah the deliberate falsehood as to my affections, mv newly-found lover is at my side, my handsome gay-hearted Arthur. Soon, I trust, the "day may come when I shall be his wife; when I shall bear the name of Stanford. I tell him about my aunt's lecture. “All this kind of thing,” he says, “must be put a stop to, my little Jane, as soon as possible. Don’t you think it far better that it should be so?” “How can it be put a stop to? I ask. “There is but one w r av,” lie answers, “aud to that I hardly dare hope you will consent. ” “Tell me what it is,” I say. “For us to elope, Jane.” The color mounts to my cheeks, and my breath comes quickly. “Jane, my darling Jane,” he murmurs, “will you fly with me to-night?” Before we have separated I have con sented to his proposal. The wind is blowing briskly as he wishes me au revoir. “I am just going to have a sail in my favorite little skiff—a farewell sail,” he says; “and then I must return to my hotel and make all necessary prepara tions.” * it’s blowing so strongly,” I answer; “ a. and I’m always afraid of some accident when you go sailing in that slender craft ” “Never fear,” he responds gaily, “I can swim a mile or two if need be; there’s no danger of my coming to grief. Fare well uutil to-night; to-night, darling! and then we shall meet to part no more.” He grasps my hand, oh, so warmly, and then he leaves me. I watch his re treating figure as he makes his way to wards that portion of the beach where he hires his sailing skiff. Presently I see him on the bosom of the sea, the white sail set,, and the little skiff lying over on her side—so far over that I expect to see her capsize momen tarily. Farther and farther out to sea he sails, away in the afternoon sun, my lover, for whose safety I trembie. The wind freshens every moment. INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA. Others eyes, as well as mines, are di rected towards the bold young English man who ventures to ride so daringly upon the treacherous ocean. A cry goes up from those assembled on the beach, a cry in which my voice joins, for the white sail of my lover’s boat is seen to dip into the water, to lie upon the bosom of the sea; the frail craft has been taxed too heavily, and in an other moment it has capsized. As that w*ail of agony escapes my lips a hand is laid upon my shoulder, a hand that is ever ready in the hour of danger —Cousin Jack’s hand. “Don’t give way,” he exclaims, “if Heaven grants me strength I will save him!” And then I see Jack Randall plunge into the sea and strike out to the rescue. A minute later I fall senseless among the pebbles. When consciousness return, I find myself in bed. My first inquiry is: “Have they saved him?” “ You must not attempt to talk at pres ent, dear,” answers Aunt Deborah, who is watching by me. “But I must know,” I cry excitedly, endeavoring to rise. At this moment the doctor appears upon the scene. “I must and will know if he is saved,” I shouted frantically. “One moment, my dear, one mo ment,” says the doctor kindly, “andyou shall have all you require—hear all you wish to hear.” Then a few hurriedly whispered words are exchanged between Aunt Deborah and him, and she hastily leaves the room. “You have been very ill, my dear,” says the doctor, taking my hand; “but I’m thankful to say, if you will only keep quite calm and quiet, you will soon be perfectly well. You have been in bed ten days, you know. ” “Ten days!” I exclaim with extreme astonishment. It doesn’t seem ten hours tome. But” flying off to the old topic—- “I must and will know where lie is—he, Arthur Stanford, whom I love.” I broke down in a wail of agony. “Oh, don’t hide anything from me,” I sob. “I am prepared to hear the worst; I expect to hear the worst; only be can did with me, and I will do anything you plea six” The doctor puts his finger on my pulse. “You know, my dear, that accidents will happen to the best of us. ” “He is dead,” I cried; “I know by your face that lie is dead.” As the words pass ray lips the door opens, and Aunt Deborah re-enters fol lowed by Cousin Jack. “Cousin Jack,” I cry, holding out my arms towards him; “I know you will tell me the truth; you who never lie, who never deceive anyone.” Cousin Jack has my hands—how thin and transparent they have become —in iiis, almost before I have concluded speaking. And tben, the doctor and Aunt Deborah having withdrawn, lie tells me the appalling truth. He tells me how he swam out to the scene of the disaster, but ere he reached it Arthur Stanford was drowned. They recovered the body next day. And then, very gently, Jack tells me who he was, and I knew that Heaven had been merciful in taking him. The man who had so in fatuated me and with whom I was pre pared to fly, was one of the most dariug forgers that ever infested the metropolis. The papers found among his things proved this. The name of Arthur Stanford was an alias. ****** Three years have gone by since what I have recorded took place. Perhaps many people will say Jack Randall was a soft-hearted idiot to have anything more to do with one who had treated him as badly as I had done; but his motto is. that “To err is human: to foreive di vine.” And I, as his cherished wife, can honorably assert I never loved any one half or a quarter as much as I love my Cousin Jack. How Spring Crops Often Fail. Tn spring, usually when plowed, the soil is moist from winter rains and snows, ami therefore compacts more readily than in the fall. But it is well known 'hat oats and barley rarely do well on sod ground, especially if old and tough. Why? There is strength enough in the soil, but it is apt to become very dry about the time the grain is heading out, often before. The sod is too stiff to pack solid, and the roots of grain encounter places where there is a vacancy between the particles of earth. In hoed crops we remedy this by frequent cultivation. It is this which makes the magical result from the use of the cultivator, but di rectly under the hill no implement will reach. Unless the soil has become thor oughly compacted before planting, it will be hard work to do it afterwards. An intelligent farmer remarked the other day' that the coarse manure he drew on his potato ground and plowed under last April had absolutely dam aged the crop. The sod was heavy, and the coarse manure had lain underneath, preventing either from rotting. Tn dig ging into some of the poorest hills of potatoes, he invariably found a hollow space beneath the hill, and unrotted ma nure or sod. On a portion of the field he had used a pulverizer and roller, and there the crop was much better and the weakly hills very few. He would have pulverized the entire field, but a heavy rain came on when it was half-finished, and he relied on that to compact the soil, but it had not done it effectually.— Country Gentleman. Taste and smell are chemical, touch is mechanical, hearing and seeing are ethereal, the ear is emotion and the eve intellectual. — Tyndall. NEWS GLEANINGS. At the Norfolk navy-yard five war ships are repairing. The Savannah News regards tea cult ure in Georgia as an assured success. The Leesburg (Fla.) Advance learns that a wooden railway will be built from Leesburg to Lake Harris and Griffin for the transportation of goods. The Sugar Planter reports that sev eral planters in West Baton Rouge, La., are to give the sorgum cane a fair trial .this season, and if results are satisfac tory to plant extensively another year. The Columbus (Ga.) Enquirer-Sun says that the woods are alive with lo custs around Griffin. They are of the same kind as those there fourteen years ago, and farmers fear for their wheat crop. The rector at St. John’s Episcopal church at Montgomery, Ala., has bap tized 502 persons in twelve years. The amount of money contributed by the parish for all purposes during the past twelve years, including the support of the church, is $109,77 8. There is a peach tree, n;>w growing in Jasper county, Ga., on the plantation of B. R. Ezell, near Trickson, the seed of which was planted by Mr. Ezell’s father in 1809. The tree was transplant ed in 1811. It is now growing fruit, the Macon (Ga.) Telegraph reports. Mr. Ezell is now in his eighty-second year. The Raleigh (N. C.) News Observer reports that Governor Jarvis, Lieutenant Governor Robinson, and others, who re cently visited the eastern part of the State, saw two fish hauls at Mr, Cape hart’s fishery at Avoca, one of 170,000 herring in the morning, and another of 125,000 in the evening. The warp of tho sein was 2,500 yards in length, and it was hauled in by steam. One of the most remarkable instances of self-sacrafice and per everance is that of the Beal street colored Baptist church at Memphis, which, out of the very small daily earnings of its poor members, has contributed since 1865 $37,000 to buy ground and build and pay for its fine church edifice. About SIO,OOO more is requisite to complete the interior of the upper part of the building. The Mayor and board of aldermen have revoked and canceled every license to sell wines, spirituous or malt liquors or any intoxicating liquors within the limits of the city of Charlotte, N. C. The keeping of such beverages for sale is declared a nuisance, and in this declaration brandied fruits and alco holic liquors are included. Mississippi has a total population of 1,131,592, of which 479,371 are white and 652,221 are colored. There are seventy-four counties in the iState, of which thirty-eight contain more colored than white population, and thirty-six more white than colored. The colored majority is 172,850. In Issaquena county the whites number 824 and the colored persons 9,177. In Washington county the whites number 3,474 and the colored persons 21,891. Contracts have been made by the Lo cal Board of Swamp Land Commission ers for the parishes of Lafourche and Terrabonne, for the construction of two canals, to be completed within one year. The New Orleans States says that this will open to cultivation or other useful purposes and render conveniently acces sible a large area of heretofore useless lands within easy distance from New Orleans. Spartanburg, S. C., news in Charles ton News and Courier: The longest cotton row in the county, or in the State, perhaps, was laid off by Mr. E. B. Huff, who works land of J. H. Mont gomery, Esq., two miles north of town. It is 90,760 yards long; and the rows being three and a half feet wide, this row contains a fraction over two and one-third acres. Its length is a little moie than five and a half miles. It would require about six hours to run round this one row of cotton. The Bullock (Ga.)Banner hears of a man who is taking his all on cotton. He has waved the homestead, and is giving mortgages on all that he has on the in coming crop, in order to get guano, com and meat. The Banner asks: “Sup pose the cotton crop this year is a short one, or that it is a large one, but the prices low and the mortgage and home stead waving notes can not be paid, what will become of hi* home and farm ?’ The New Orleans Picayune says that there has been a marked change in the drift of cotton this season, and the ten dency has been southward. The crop has been augmented over eleven per cent., yet the quantity of cotton carried overland has decreased nearly 100,000 bales from the figures of last year to corresponding date. The principal de crease in this direction has been at St. Louis, where there has been 90,000 bales less cotton handled than last year. The shipments through Louisville have also fallen off 50,000 bales. Speaking of the eighth anniversary next Monday of the settlement of the Alabama town of Cullman, the Mont gomery Advertiser and Mail says: Eight years ago the town of Cullman was a wilderness ; it has now something less than 2,000 people, and the region all round is settled by industrious and thrifty farmers. They are mostly Ger man, and such has been the success of the pioneers that there are now almost daily additions to the settlements, in duced by the reports that have gone from the pleasant homes of the settlers. They by no means devote their well tilled lands exclusively to the culture of the great Southern staple or to grain. They are growing small fruits and veg etables with gratifying success. The Palatka (Fla.) Herald states that Mr. W. P. Wright has bought another slice of Drayton island, 300 acres. Be fore the last purchase he owned a good part of the west side ol the island. Mr. W. has been in Florida for twelve years, and was the first who introduced into this section the business of market gar dening. For the past ten years he has cultivated vegetables for the Northern market. He has had as high as fifteen acres in cucumbers in ene season. This year he cultivated over ten acres to cab bage alone. It may be said in his case, at least, that he has ascertained the pos itive reality of the vegetable industry, and his testimony is favorable. The ad ditional 300 acres just purchased by him is for vegetable growing. It is a piece of low, rich prairie, which, in or der to render tillable, he is now diking and draining. It is stated by the Sand ford (Fla.) Journal that General Sandford has merged his large interests there and in Middle Florida in an English company, composed of business men and capital ists of high standing in England and Scotland, and called the Florida Land and Colonization Company (limited), of which he is president. The object of the company is to continue the import ant work of improvement and coloniza tion commenced by him eleven years ago', and to extend it over a larger terri tory with the larger means now afforded. Sanford will naturally be the headquar ters of the company, which started with a capital of $1,250,000. It is already proposed to increase it to $5,000,000 in order to carry out the various plans and projects on hand. Until a charter is obtained the business will be carried on under the direction of Gen. Sanford. Take Me to Me Ma! “It is a great thing to see the spirit ual truth that all nature symbolizes,” said she. “So it is,” said he. •‘And yet enjoyment is darkened by a terrible shadow,” said she. “Hay?” he inquired. “A terrible shadow,” she repeated, ‘ ‘that casts a depressing reflection upon the most exuberant soul.” “Yes,” he replied, “I’ve felt it when I’ve been short on spare ribs. ” “On what?” she anxiously inquired. “On spare ribs.” “But you should be philosophical— you should imitate Pythagoras.” “Who was her 1 “He was a philosopher, an anti-epi curean, but lie did not go so far as the Stoics.” “Where did they go?” asked the Board of Trade man; and gazing at him in amazement, his wild Western way began to dawn upon the culchawed mind of the Boston girl, and she said: “Take me to me ma.” —New York Commercial Advertiser. Professor Stourbridge before the State Board of Agriculture of Connecti cut: “The soil is best plowed when it is most thoroughly crushed, twist*d and broken, with the sod well covered. On some kinds of land I would have fur rows lapped an inch, as the Canadian farmers plow. Let the air and water have a chance to circulate underneath the surface. Light lands, however, should have a flat furrow if we wish to make such lands more compact.” A Boston gill, in a moment of dreamy inspiration, the other day, murmured": “Why is it that two souls, mated in the impenetrable mystery of their nativity, float by each other on the ocean currents of existence without being instinctively drawn together, blended, and beautified in the [assimilative alembic of eternal love?” And then she mechanically pushed her plate over for another filling of beans and a slug of pork. SUBSCRIPTION--$1.50. NUMBER 40. FACTS FOR THE CURIOUS. The cuttle-fish has three distinct hearts. Elephants always disturb the water before they drink. The woodpecker can thrust its tongue out full three inches. The albatross, the largest of sea birds, Hies with a velocity of 100 miles an hour. The little bird called the swift darts through the air at the rate of 180 miles an hour. The noise made by a school of fish sounds, in the deep sea, like the rum bling of thunder. The horn of a rhinoceros, "when cut through the middle, is said to exhibit on each side the rude figure of a man. the outlines being marked by small white strokes. Orang-outangs, in a state of domesti cation, will sit at the table like men and eat every kind of food, using the knife and fork; and tliey will drink wine and other liquors. The main artery in the common whale is a pipe into which a man might creep with ease; the heart throws out from twelve to fifteen gallons of blood at every pulsation; the tongue has been compared to a vast feather-bed, on which half a dozen men might find am ple room for repose. The whale’s tail not infrequently has a surface of 100 square feet. If the eaitli could be suddenly stopped in her orbit, and allowed to fall unob structed toward the sun, imder the ac celerating influence of his attraction, she would reach the central fire in about four months. But such is the compass of her orbit that, to make its circuit in a year, she has to move nearly nineteen miles a second, or more than fifty times faster than the swiftest rifle ball, and, moving twenty miles, her path deviates from perfect straightness by less than one-eightli of an inch. Among the extinct species of animals, the remains of which are found in Amer ica, may be mentioned the Eobasileus coruntus, a beast as large as the Indian elephant, but standing low, having pro portions more as in the rhinoceros. The physiognomy was very peculiar. On either side of the front, above each or bit, rose a stout horn, its base continu ous with that of its mate. Immensely prolonged nasal bones supported on each side, near the extremity, a massive reversed shovel-shaped protuberance. These beasts probably lived in herds like elephants of the present day. In Persia they bottle up their tears as of old. This is done in the following manner; As the mourners are sitting around and weeping, the master of cere monies presents each one with a piece of' cotton wool, with which to wipe off his tears. This cotton is afterward squeezed into a bottle, and the tears are preserved as a powerful and efficacious remedy for reviving a dying man after every other means lias failed. It is also employed as a charm against evil influences. This custom is probably alluded to in Psalm lvi., verse 8 : “ Put thou my tears into a bottle.” The practice was once uni versal, as is found by the tear bottles which are found in almost every ancient tomb, for the ancients buried them with their dead as a proof of their affection. Corn too Thick. One summer we had a side hill on which we p’anted corn —the Chester County Mammoth—and it was in its growth very rank. The hired man. who was told to puil out all unhealthy stalks and leave not more than at the least three to the hill, did not pull any at all, but got drunk. The field was very beautiful, but practical men came to us and said that it was very nice and picturesque, but that it was like a hem lock forest--too shady. The truth i°, the hills had been pretty heavily and hotly fertilized through the drunkenness of the afore-aid man, and the shades made by the stalks kept the ground cool in the drought. The result was a hand some crop of corn at a time when corn had been burned up by the sun. We would not like to recommend this plan to anybody, because we think it is a very bad one, but we relate it as a mat ter of illustration for some of the agricultural smarties. —New York Herald. A. Smick, Decatur, 111., sends the fol lowing cure for “chicken cholera” to the Farmer s Bevieio, saying that it “has cured when all others have failed.” “I send you a recqipe for the cure of cholera in fowls, which I have tried with wonderful success: One half tea spoonful of ground black pepper, one half teaspoonful gunpowder, one-half tea-poonful soda, one-naif teaspoonful sulphur, fifteen drops laudanum or same of coal oil; mix thoroughly with a little flour and water. Give to the fowl by putting down its throat. Dose—one teaspoonful twice a day till cured.” 'Been out of town, Fritz?” “ Yasse; took a run to Boston for a few days.” “Meet enybody?” “Oh, yes; met the Beans. Know them. Very nice family; great friend of the Porks, of Chicago. Always together. Believe they’re in partnership. Pork & Beans.” “Aw!” ••uome in Mary Jeannette! How dare you put on yom rollei skates Sunday?” “I haven’t my roller skates on mother; only one of them. Nobody can break the Sabbath with one roller skate!” The daughter of Mr. Proddy, of Twelfth street, has returned to her fath er's house from a visit East, and oh! how many fond and foolish boyß rejoice over that Proddy gal’s return —Kansas City Times.