344 



NEAV ENGLAND FARMER. 



July 



hood, such as boxes of bricks, buildings, &c., of 

 plain wood, come from Grunhainsclior, in Saxony. 

 — Unce a Week. 



A Hard-Hearted Schoolmaster. — A Ger- 

 man magazine recently announced the death of a 

 school-master in Suabia, who for fifty-one years 

 bad superintended a large institution, with old- 

 fashioned severity. From an average inferred by 

 means of recorded observations, one of the ushers 

 had calculated that, in the course of his exertions, 

 he had given 911,500 canings, 124,000 floggings, 

 209,000 custodcs, 130,000 tips with the ruler, 

 10,200 boxes on the ear, and 22,700 tasks by 

 heart. It was further calculated that he had made 

 700 boys stand on peas, GOOO kneel on the sharp 

 edge of wood, 5000 wear the fool's cap, and 1700 

 hold the rod. How vast (exclaims the journalist) 

 the quantity of human misery inflicted by a single 

 perverse teacher ! 



LADIES' DEPARTMENT. 



A GOOD-NIGHT. 



Sleep sound, dear love ! Though the winds be high 



And the dark clouds drift through the troubled sky ; 



Though the rising waters foam and roar, 



And mournfiilly howl round the tortured shore ; 



111 sounds from thy slumbers be far away, 



And soft be thy dreams as a summer's day. 



Sleep sound ! Though the world be weary with fears, 



And eyes that love thee V^e sad with tears. 



Yet never a sorrow break thy rest, 



And never a pang shoot through thy breast ; 



No shadows pass o'er thy closed eyes. 



But their visions be visions of Paradise. 



Sleep sound, sweet love I Till the morning's light 

 Lead up a new day with its fresh delight ; 

 Till the welcome sun, as it mounts above, 

 Recall thee to duty, and peace, and love, 

 To a calm existence, untouched by strife. 

 And the quiet round of a holy life ! 



Frazer's Magazine. 



ALAKMlIsTG IWCBEASE OP CELIBACY. 



This is getting to be an alarming fact to the 

 political economists, and, in an article on the sub- 

 ject, Once a Week thus remarks : 



The probabilities of marriage of a maiden at 

 twenty are slightly superior to those of a bache- 

 lor, and incomparably greater than those of a 

 v«idow of the same age ; but with the lapse of 

 years the ratios change, the probabilities of mar- 

 riage at thirty-five being, for a bachelor, one to 

 twenty-seven ; for a spinster, one to thirty-five ; 

 and for a widow, one to five — the attractions of 

 the wido\y standing to those of the spinster in the 

 surprising relation of five to ono — or, poT'^hanco. 

 that number mystically representing her C;,mpar- 

 ative readiness to matrimony. Thus the chance 

 of finding happiness and a home diminishes with 

 years. 



The growing disposition to celibacy among the 

 young men of this class, though in some measure 

 attributable to selfish and luxurious cynicism, is 

 chiefly due to the irrational expenditure conse- 

 quent on Marriage, and the unattractiveness of 



prospective association with women so unlikely, 

 from their artificial habits, to yield domestic hap- : 

 piness. If this celibacy frequently defeats the \ 

 economical consideration deciding to it, (as it 

 should,) and ends in much immorality and unhap- 

 piness among men, how immeasurably evil must 

 be its influence on the other sex ; and v/hat a vi- 

 olation of natural law must that social organiza- 

 tion be, which so harshly represses the afl'cctions, 

 and bereaves so large a class of the support and 

 sympathy they are entitled to from man. Is the 

 Rajapoot pride that slays a female infant, lest in 

 after life it should dishonor its parentage by a 

 plebeian marriage, more cruel than the selfish so- 

 cial system that devotes it to a solitary and weary 

 life of penury and regrets ? 



TO KEEP MOTHS PHOM CLOTHES. 



Nothing moths dislike so much as being dis- 

 turbed. The clothes, &c., should therefore be 

 taken out of the linen bag, (a pillow-case tied or 

 sewed at the open end is the best,) and well shaken 

 once a month. A bag of clothes left unshaken is 

 like an undisturbed fox covert, where there are 

 plenty of .rabbits, to a fox. He won't go away 

 till he is forced to decamp, by being hunted up. 

 Moths can't bear tallow, and if curtains, &c., are 

 put away for any time, I should recommend a 

 pound of the commonest tallow candles to be put 

 in paper, and placed in with them. In the muse- 

 um of the Jardin des Plantes, at Paris, they told 

 me they used benzoin coUas to keep the moths 

 out of the skins of the animals, and not a trace of 

 a moth did I see in their miles of galleries of 

 stuffed beasts. The other day, I was asked what 

 to do with a Crimean sheep-skin coat that had 

 got the moth in it. I had it well shaken, and then 

 benzoin coUas rubbed in. It is not the moth that 

 flies about that does the harm to the clothes, so 

 much as the grub from which the moth comes — a 

 white little creature with a red head. I collected 

 several of these grubs from the Crimean coat, and 

 having moistened the palm of the hand with ben- 

 zoin coUas, I put the grubs on it. They began to 

 twist and turn about, and were dead in a second or 

 two. I should therefore recommend benzoin col- 

 las to destroy moth grubs when present, and also 

 to keep them away. I have read somewhere, (but 

 I can't recollect where) that cyanide of potassi- 

 um v/as fatal to moths, and that they Avon't go 

 near it. It would be worth trying this ; and I 

 imagine the best form to use it, would be to buy 

 some of the soap that photographers use to clean 

 the nitrate of silver stains from their hands, and 

 place it along with the clothes. But, after all, fre- 

 quent shakings are the best antidotes for moths 

 and their grubs. — Cor. of London Field. 



Wife. — This good old Saxon word {ivif,) is, 

 after all, the dearest and most sacred word in the 

 whole vocabulary of love. Around it clusters all 

 that is most beautiful, chaste and permanent in 

 the tender passion. Into whatever forbidden paths 

 the heart of man may wander, still it must return 

 at last, to the hallowed name of wife for consola- 

 tion and rest. Any other relation between the 

 sexes, however alluring to the imagination, inva- 

 riably ends in wretchedness, in shame and degra- 

 dation. 



