MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
JfocellaueDM. 
FAMILIAR THINGS. 
There is a truth that travel brings, 
A truth of homely birth ; 
We dwell among familiar things, 
And little know their worth. 
The emigrant in distant lands. 
The sailor on the sea, 
For all that round us silent stands, 
Have deeper hearts than we. 
We dwell among familiar things. 
And daily, with dull sight. 
We touch a thousand secret springs 
Of sorrow and delight; 
Delight and reverential bliss 
To those who, exiled far, 
Stretch dreaming hands to clasp and kiss 
Each little household star. 
We dwell among familiar things; 
We know them by their use; 
And, by their many minist’rings. 
Their va ue we deduce; 
Forgetful each has had an eye, 
And each can speak, though dumb; 
And, of the ghostly days gone by, 
Strange witness might become. 
We dwell among familiar things; 
But should it be our lot 
To sever all the binding-strings 
That form the household knot; 
To wander upon alien mould. 
And cross the restless foam; 
How clearly should we then behold 
The Deities of Home! 
HISTORICAL SKETCHES, NO. 1.-WISCONSIN, 
BY WILBUR M. HAYWARD. 
In the exploration and early settlement 
of the Mississippi Valley, there occurred 
many scenes of lasting historic interest, in 
the delineation of which, future American 
authors will blend the light of elaborate re¬ 
search, and tho mellow lustre of romance. 
From the relics and monuments of civili¬ 
zation which have already been exhumed 
in this valley, we must infer that the roving 
Indian was not its aboriginal owner. By 
what race of men it was first settled is a 
question involved in obscurity, denser than 
that which rested on Europe in the dark¬ 
ness of the middle ages. 
After the expedition of De Soto, in search 
of the far-famed, but fabled fountain of 
health, the leading nations of the old world 
made arduous exertions to gain possession 
of this valley, as a rich colonial domain.— 
With tho chivalric spirit of olden time, 
France resolved to lead in tho hazardous 
game of its conquest and civilization. And 
united with this determination of gaining 
supremacy over tho western Indians, and 
their fertile lands, was tho philanthropic 
desire for their mental exaltation and con¬ 
version to the Roman Catholic faith. More 
true heroism was shown in thus bearing tho 
cross through the western wilderness, than 
when it was raised aloft on tho deserts of 
Palestine, in the Crusades against the bar¬ 
baric but invincible Saracens. 
In the year 1664 tho French missionaries 
Allouez and Dablon, first sailed on the 
waters of Lake Michigan, visiting the Mas- 
countins and Miamis, near the lake; passing- 
through eastern Wisconsin and northern 
Illinois. After completing this circuit of 
travel, Allouez extended his rambles to the 
cabins of the Foxes, who were then en¬ 
camped on a river of that name in Wis¬ 
consin. 
Early in the summer of 1673, the wise 
intendant of New Franco, ordered two fear¬ 
less adventurers, Marquette and Joliet, 
to explore tho western country; selecting 
sites for a chain of military posts, and mis¬ 
sionary stations, which were designed to ex¬ 
tend from the Falls of St. Anthony to the 
Gulf of Mexico. The consummation of 
this design would have secured to France 
tho choicest portion of North America, 
made her tho Roman Empire of modern 
times, and completely have changed the his¬ 
tory of tho Anglo Saxon race. Leaving a 
station on a head-land near tho sterile but 
romantic Isle of Mackinaw, Marquette and 
companion, sailed across Green Bay, up Fox 
river; and were the first Europeans who trav¬ 
ersed the picturesque streams, and rolling 
prairies of western Wisconsin. On their way, 
an intimacy was formed with the Sioux, Sacs, 
Foxes, Winncbagoes and several lesser tribes; 
and, after passing through many scenes of 
excitement and danger, they at last halted 
for a brief season of repose, on the banks 
of tho Wisconsin. Floating down this river, 
they soon reached its conlluence with tho 
Mississippi, and wero the first whites who 
dipped the paddle in its swift and turbid 
waters. The report made on their return 
from this adventurous voyage down the 
Mississippi, remains unknown, but wo may 
readily infer its import from the subsequent 
Fronch encroachments, that resulted in the 
war which developed tho military genius of 
Washington. 
Nearly a century, succeeding this expedi¬ 
tion, passed without tho formation of any 
important or permanent settlements in Wis¬ 
consin. The first attempts were made at 
Green Bay, Winnebago and Prairie du 
Chien. These towns at tho present day 
boar evidence of antiquity; but have in¬ 
creased more slowly in population than 
many settlements of subsequent date.— 
Wisconsin at this period was a portion of tho 
North-west Territory; and was only trav¬ 
ersed by hunters and trappers in the em¬ 
ploy of tho Hudson Bay, and North-west 
fur companies. Chicago was but a small 
village—the smoko of a steamer was not 
seen on tho Northern lakes—and where 
now stands the nourishing city of Milwau¬ 
kee, was chaunted the mournful requiem 
over the grave of the Indian dead. 
In 1832, the Sacs and Foxes, instigated by 
that second Tecumseii, tho eloquent and 
warlike Black Hawk, commenced a series 
of depredations on the frontier settlements. 
They were, however, soon conquered, and 
forced to remove west of tho Mississippi.— 
A distinct territorial government was form¬ 
ed, wo believe, in Wisconsin in 1833, and in 
1S46 it was admitted into the Union. At 
the commencement of its existence as a 
State, a wise system of internal improve¬ 
ments was adopted, which has since been 
put in tho course of practical execution.— 
Much has already been done, when we con¬ 
sider the infantile state of the country, in the 
advancement of classical as well as common 
school education. Universities have been 
endowed at Madison (its capital) and Ap¬ 
pleton ; also a College at Beloit. The pop¬ 
ulation of the State, aceordingjto tho census 
of 1850, was 305,191. The principal towns 
are Milwaukee, Sheboygan, Racine, Keno¬ 
sha, Janesville aud Beloit. Tho extreme 
northern part of the State is yet unsettled. 
Here roam the Brothertown and a number 
of minor Indian tribes. 
French adventure discovered Wisconsin, 
and New England enterprise settled it. Wo 
have every reason to predict that though 
now hut one of the youngest States in the 
Union, it will yet become one of the most 
prosperous and influential. The climate is 
salubrious, soil fertile, and her mines of 
lead and copper are the richest in the world. 
Wo may confidently anticipate the time 
when the golden fever which now drains the 
wealth of the western country shall react. 
Wisconsin will then gain new strength from 
the returning emigration, and her progress 
be onward until all her broad prairies are 
resonant with tho hum of rewarded labor, 
and her name stand among tho first in our 
prosperous sisterhood of States. 
Rochester, N. Y., March 1,1852. 
A NOBLE BOY. 
A boy in New Jersey, at various times, 
saved four lives before he was ten years old. 
When a little over eight years old he saw 
his younger brother break through the ice 
where the water was four feet deep. lie 
had to run twelve or fifteen yards to reach 
the pond; and remembering having heard 
his mother read a story from one of Peter 
Parley’s books, of a person saving another’s 
life when tho ico was not sufficiently strong 
lbr him to walk upon it, he lay down on the 
ice, crept to the hole where his brother had 
broken through, and pulled him out by tho 
hair, after ho had sunk for tho third time. 
Creeping backward, he drew the rescued 
sufferer to the shore. 
After this ho saved the lives of three boys 
at the same pond; and in one of these in¬ 
stances showed as much coolness and pres¬ 
ence of mind as any grown person could.— 
Seeing the ice was too thin to bear him, he 
tried to borrow a sled of a boy near by, who 
refused it; but, pushing tho boy over, ho 
seized tho sled, and shoved it to tho sinking- 
lad, who caught hold of it, and ho, holding- 
on by tho string, pulled him to the shore. 
We have only to add that this clever child 
was as good as he was manly and brave. 
COURTESY IN PUBLIC MEN. 
Does a man lose by politonoss? Is real 
accommodation, afforded in a gentlemanly 
and legitimate stylo, a loss to any man or 
set of men in the end? We like to purchase 
of individuals who are easy and affable in 
deportment, and who, without any sacrifice 
of personal comfort, make themselves agree- 
ablo to us. We like to travel with a person 
who seeks something except his own grati¬ 
fication. Wo enjoy tho society of tho man 
who endeavors to promote something be¬ 
yond his mere selfish purposes. We love 
and speak favorably of him, and thus be¬ 
come ourselves a letter of inti-oduction to 
him wherever we go. The stage agent, 
steamboat captain, railroad officer, or other 
public character, who declines tho exhibition 
of proper civilities to those who become his 
passengers, will feel his loss, when other 
routes have drawn off tho mass to travel, 
and have taught him, too late, the value of 
politeness in small things. Courtesy costs 
but little. Lot all cultivate it. It will soon 
become a habit, and will tell for us, in min¬ 
gling with society, more than oven great wis¬ 
dom or knowledge.— West. Chr. Advocate. 
The Merchant and his Clerk. —In a re¬ 
cent lecture, Prof. Tatlock related tho fol¬ 
lowing anecdote: 
About forty years ago, a young man with 
limited capital commenced business in tho 
city of Boston, and was obliged to employ 
a singlo clerk, on a small salary. A lady 
called at his store ono day and made some 
purchases, which she wished delivered at her 
residence. Tho merchant requested his 
clerk to deliver the bundle as required. He 
declined; the merchant immediately took 
the bundle and delivered it as directed.— 
Tho clerk never was worth one hundred 
dollars in his life—the merchant was—Amos 
Lawrence, now a millionaire. 
Dr. Kane’s lectures on the Arctic expedi¬ 
tion have been delivered in Baltimore, and 
are published at length in the Patriot. The 
following in relation to the cold of tho Arc¬ 
tic region, will bo read with interest: 
The cold came upon the voyagers gradu¬ 
ally, and by habit they were enabled to keep 
as warm as necessary, without fires, for 
weeks after the thermometer was several de¬ 
grees below zero. In the second week of 
September, tho water casks froze up, and it 
became necessary to quarry out the ico and 
melt it before it could be used. By and by, 
the waters of the sea congealed around them, 
and they were glued up in fixed ice. Moist¬ 
ure began to bo a rarity, everything being 
frozen perfectly dry. The opening of a door 
was followed by a gust of smoke-like vapor, 
and outside every smoke-pipe exhaled pur¬ 
ple steam. All their eatables froze into a 
mass of laughable solidification. Sugar was 
soon cut with a saw, butter with a chisel, 
and beef with an axo and crowbar ! 
The “crawl,” the chill, the sensation of 
“cold” which at home is a temporary change 
of state, was hero unknown—Qold, of a high¬ 
ly wrought intensity, tho one unvarying con¬ 
dition ! When the mercury froze, alcoholic 
thermometers fell below 50 deg., or 80 odd 
below tho freezing point; regular inspec¬ 
tions took place during and after the walks 
of the men. A white spot on tho nose, lip, 
or cheek, was a signal for a most uncharit¬ 
able rubbing with snow; and many a time 
poor Jack, when pining for a warm stove, 
lias boen obliged to take, instead, a courso 
of medical friction, with compulsory exer¬ 
cise. On ono occasion, a poor fellow, re¬ 
covering from an attack of inflammation of 
the lungs, was asked by his doctor, how a 
certain frost bitten ear came on ? “ Why,” 
said he, producing a carefully folded scrap 
of an old newspaper, “I didn’t want to 
trouble you, doctor; it dropped off last week; 
here it is.” But the most distressing feature 
of their Arctic winter was tho darkness of 
its long night, when for eight days the sun 
was not visible. During this season, the 
Aurora Borealis was an almost nightly 
visitor. The Aurora of tho far North, how¬ 
ever, is not the splendid display, either of 
illumination or color, or movement, which 
we see in the moro southern latitudes; it re¬ 
sembles a white moonlit cloud, impressed 
clearly against the pure blue of the sky.— 
Many other interesting phenomena of the 
Arctic night were described by tho lecturer. 
HELP OTHERS- 
You havo no right to be supremely sel¬ 
fish. You were not given an existence hero 
to accumulate for self—to pray for self, and 
to die for self The thousands around you, 
with whom you come in daily contact, have 
a right to expect something from you. But 
a few solicit your charity—they ask for 
words, looks and acts of kindness. God 
never made a frowning, cross, crabbed man. 
If this is your character, you may rely upon 
it, the evil ono had something to do with 
your creation, or you are now under his 
dominion. The world around us calls for 
pleasant looks, agreeable words and kind 
acts. These all can bestow. By being lib¬ 
eral—sometimes with money, and then with 
sweet words and looks—you assist materi¬ 
ally your fellow creatures—your brothers 
and sisters—and help them to bear the sor¬ 
rows of life, and to he comparatively happy. 
What a world of happiness would be the 
consequence of feeling for and liberally as¬ 
sisting each other. Who would hesitate to 
meet a fellow creature ? Who would hesi¬ 
tate to meet a fellow creature ? Who would 
refuse to speak to one human being ? Who 
would slander, back-bite or shrug up his 
shoulders ? Ah ! my friends, we need more 
love and kindness—good consciences and 
tender hearts—warm, sweet affections. Let 
us cherish these in ouv bosoms, and glorious 
will be tho results.— D. C. Colesivortliy. 
SNARLING. 
Don’t snarl, my good follow; who ever 
gained a friend by a snarl ? What if things 
do not move according to your mind,—will 
fretting and snarling make all right ? You 
know better. You never yet suffered your¬ 
self to be made a fool of, without regretting 
it. What has tho multitude to do with your 
private feeling, that they should suffer by 
your misfortune, or your lack of good judg¬ 
ment ? Every face you front partakes^ in 
some slight degree of your folly, and a score 
are made less happy by the snarl that is 
nurtured on your countenance. Out upon 
such folly. From this moment resolve to 
indulge no more in those feelings which 
make you and others wretched. Instead of 
snarls and frowns, let the smiles of joy play 
upon your face, and a single day will not 
pass before you are led to exclaim, “ I am a 
happy man.”— Olive Branch. 
How Money Grow's. —Tho accumulation 
of money, when placed at compound inter¬ 
est, after a certain number of years, is ex¬ 
ceedingly rapid, and in some instances ap¬ 
pears truly astonishing, Ono penny, says 
the Conversations’ Lexicon, put out at five 
per cent., compound interest, at the birth of 
Christ, would in 1810, have amounted to a 
sum equal in value to 327,474,600 of globes 
of standard gold, each in magnitude as large 
as this earth, while at simple interest it would 
have amounted to 7s. 7^d! It would afford 
a good exercise to our young arithmeticians 
to verify the abovo calculation. 
In good earnest, we regard medicine with 
little favor. Our first recipe for sickness 
is not to get sick; our second reliance is up¬ 
on a well-bred, sensible doctor. We select 
the doetor; it is his business to select the 
medicine, and we do not car© a pin what it is. 
To all who ask us, therefore, what school 
wo beliovo in, we reply, we are firmly por- 
suaded of Dr. Mitchell ! This is tho sum 
of our present creed.— H. W. Beecher. 
THE CROP OF ACORNS. 
BY MRS. SIGOURNEY. 
There came a man in days of old, 
To hire a piece of land for gold, 
And urged his suit in accent-* meek, 
“ One crop alone is all I seek; 
That harvest o’er, my claim I yield, 
And to its lord resign the field.” 
The owner some misgivings felt. 
And coldly with the stranger dealt. 
But found his last objection fail, 
And honeyed eloquence prevail, 
Bo look the proffered price in hand. 
And for one crop leased out the land. 
The wily tenant sneered with pride. 
And sowed the spot with acorns wide; 
At first like iny shoots they grew, 
Then broad and wide their branches threw, 
But long before those oaks sublime, 
Aspiring, reached their forest prime, 
The cheated landlord mouldering lay, 
Forgotten, with his kindred clay. 
Oh ye, whose years unfolding fair. 
Are fresh with youth, and free from care. 
Should vice or indolence desire 
The garden of your souls to hire. 
No parley hold—reject the suit. 
Nor let one seed the soil pollute. 
My child, their first approach beware; 
With firmness break the insidious snare. 
Lest, as the acorns grew and throve 
Into a sun-excluding grove, 
Thy sins, a dark o’ershadowing tree. 
Shut out the light of heaven from thee. 
THE GRISETTES OF PARIS. 
Mr. Wilkes, in ono of his chai-ming let¬ 
ters, thus speaks of this numerous and useful 
class of Parisian sociely : 
I found tho Boulevards quite as gay after 
breakfast, as they were in the afternoon 
before, though filled with a somewhat dif¬ 
ferent class of people. There were fewer 
well-dressed females, and the men had moro 
of a business air; nevertheless, all were loun¬ 
gers, and it was diflicuIt to imagine that any 
of tho throng, except the bustling little 
grisettes, had any taste beyond sauntering 
away their time in that delightful place.— 
Frenchmen never walk fast through the 
streets; if they are in a hurry they ride.— 
The only person who can by any chance ho 
seen walking swift in Paris, is an American, 
or perhaps a grisctte, who will hurry at all 
hours and seasons, unless she is with her 
sweetheart. I look upon these little crea- 
turos as among tho most worthy people of 
Paris. They are as busy as bees all day 
long, and though report says they take too 
much margin in their gaieties on Sunday, 
and walk occasionally too deep into the Bois 
do Boulogne, ono cannot help pardoning 
them in advance for all their transgressions. 
They represent labor in its most devoted 
phase, and have a better right to dance and 
sing, and snap their fingers, than the laced 
ladies whom they ornament, and who confer 
nothing upon the world, but a little too 
much of themselves. Indeed, thy enjoy 
themselves to the top of their bent, when¬ 
ever they are lot loose, and next to tho sol¬ 
diers, are the chief features of Paris. Liko 
the soldiers, however, thoy always behave 
decorously, and never give offence, either iu 
their conduct or their attire. On the con¬ 
trary, their dress is exquisitely tasteful, and 
their manners, though refined by peculiar 
art, have tho appearance of the utmost 
simplicity. 
You are very often struck with their ex¬ 
treme beauty as well as neatness, and at first 
can scarcely resist an inclination to put your 
hand into your pocket, as you do when you 
see a charming statuette, to buy a pair of 
them for your mantle-piece at homo. Among 
them you see the freshest faces and purest 
complexions in the world, some looking like 
ripe nectarines, under their indescribable 
and inimitable little caps, and others so 
white and so fresh, that they seem to have 
been dipped in milk, and make you fancy 
that they smell of the meadow. Many of 
tho ladies of Paris, too, have the same re¬ 
markable delicacy of flesh and blood. In¬ 
deed, I think the Parisian females excel 
those of London in complexion, for while 
tho former are distinguished by the charac- 
istics which I mention, too many of the lat¬ 
ter look as if they had been roughly built of 
a block or raw roasting beef. 
A BIT OF ROMANCE. 
A police court in France was recently 
thrown into commotion by a scene some¬ 
what singular. A young boy of 16 years of 
ago was brought before the court, charged 
with stealing and begging in tho public 
streets. He was a bright, fine-looking boy, 
but very poorly clad, and when brought be¬ 
fore the Procurer, he fell on his knees and 
begged him not to put him iu prison; that 
his mother was sick and starving, and that 
alone had driven him to steal; that ho could 
not find work, and if lie was imprisoned, the 
disgrace would kill his poor mother. Tho 
Procurer seemed somewhat moved by the 
boy’s story, but, nevertheless, after hearing 
the evidence, condemned him to six weeks’ 
imprisonment. As the boy was being led 
away, a poor woman, pale, covered with rags, 
and her hair all in disorder, forced her way 
through tho crowd, and tottering up to the 
boy, passed one arm around him, and then 
turning to the Procurer, pushed back her 
hair, and exclaimed, “ Do you not recognizo 
me ? Thirteen years have passed since you 
deserted me, leaving mo alone with my child 
and my shame: but I have not forgotten 
you, and this boy whom you have just con¬ 
demned—this boy is your son !” You may 
imagine tho effect this startling announce¬ 
ment produced on tho by-standers. The 
Procurer, in a loud voice, ordered the wo¬ 
man to be carried from the court, and then 
left it himself, but ho joined the poor crea¬ 
ture in tho street, and carried her and her 
boy off in a carriage. 
HOW SOME PEOPLE MARRY AND LIVE. 
A young man meets a pretty face in tho 
ball-room, falls in love with it, courts it, 
“marries it,” goes to houso-keoping with it, 
and boasts of having a home to go to and 
a wile. Tho chances are nine to ten he has 
neither. Her pretty face gets to be an old 
story—or becomes faded, or freckled, or 
fretted—and as that face was all he wanted, 
all he “ paid attention to,” all he sat up with, 
all he bargained for, all ho swore “ to love, 
honor, and protect,” ho gets sick of his trade; 
knows a dozen faces which he likes better, 
gives up staying at homo of evenings, con¬ 
soles himself with cigars, oysters, and poli¬ 
tics, and looks upon his homo as a very in¬ 
different boarding-house. A family of chil¬ 
dren grow up about him; but neither he nor 
his “face” knows anything about training 
them; so they come up helter-skelter—made 
toys of when babies, dolls when boys and 
girls, drudges when young men and women ; 
and so passes year after year, and not one 
quiet, happy, homely hour is known through- 
out the whole household. 
Another young man becomes enamoured 
of a “ fortune.” lie waits upon it to parties, 
dances the Polka with it, exchanges billets- 
doux with it, pops the question to it, gets 
“Yes” from it, takes it to the parson’s, weds 
it, calls it “ wife,” carries it homo, sets up an 
establishment with it, introduces it to his 
friends, and says (poor fellow !) that ho, too, 
is married, and has got a home. It’s false. 
Ho is not married; he has no home. And 
ho soon finds it out. He’s in the wrong 
box; but it is too late to get out of it. He 
might as well hope to escape from his coffin. 
Friends congratulate him, and he lias to grin 
and bear it. They praise the house, the 
furniture, tho cradle, tho new Bible, tho 
newer baby; and then bid the “fortune,” 
and him who husband’s it, good-morning! 
As if he had known a good morning -since 
he and that gilded “fortune” were falsely 
declared to bo one! 
Take another ease. A young woman is 
smitten with a pair of whiskers. Curled 
hair never before had such charms. She 
sets her cap for them; they take. The de¬ 
lighted whiskers make an offer, first ono and 
then the other, proffering themselves both 
in exchange for her one heart. Tho dear 
miss is overcome with j magnanimity, closes 
the bargain, carries home her prize, shows 
it pa and ma, calls herself engaged to it, 
thinks there never was such a pair (of whis¬ 
kers) before, and in a few weeks they aro 
married. Married ! Yes, the world calls it 
so, and we will. What is the result? A 
short honeymoon, and then the unlucky dis¬ 
covery that they are as unlike as chalk and 
cheese, and not to be made ono, though all 
the priests in Christendom pronounced 
them so. 
OUT-OF-DOOR EXERCISE. 
Our eyes have just fallen upon a passage 
in Mr. Greeley’s last letter from Europe, in 
which he speaks of the appearance of tho 
English women, and commends with a little 
more than his usual ardor of expression, 
their perfection of figure. He attributes 
this, and very justly, to the English lady’s 
habit of out-of-door exercise. We have 
thought that this fact was well known : that 
it was known years ago, and that our fair 
countrywomen would catch a hint from it, 
that would throw color into their checks 
and fulness into their forms. And yet, sad¬ 
ly enough, our ladies still coop themselves 
in their heated rooms, until their faces aro 
like lilies, and their figures—like lily-stems. 
We have alluded to tho matter now, not 
for the sake of pointing a satire surely, but 
for the sake of asking those one or two hun¬ 
dred thousand ladies, who every month light 
our pages with their looks, if they do indeed 
prize a little unnatural pearliness of hue 
and delicacy of complexion, beyond that 
ruddy flush of health (the very tempter of a 
kiss!) and that full development of figure, 
which all the poets, from Homer down, have 
made one of the cbiefest beauties of a wo¬ 
man! If not, let them make of themselves 
horsewomen; or, bating that, let them 
make acquaintance with the sunrise; let 
them study music of nature’s own orchestra. 
Atelgarity is not essential to health; and a 
lithe classic figure does not grow in a het- 
houso. For ourselves, weinclino heartily to 
the belief, that if American women havo a 
wish to add to the respect, the admiration, 
tho love, and (if need be) the fear of tho 
men, they will find an easier road toward that 
gain, in a little vigorous out-of-door exerciso, 
and a uniform attention to the great essen¬ 
tials of health, than in any new-fangled cos¬ 
tumes, or loudly applauded “ rights.”— 
Harper s Magazine. 
ATTAR OF R0SES-H0W IT IS MADE. 
The roses of Ghazipoor, on the river Gan¬ 
ges, are cultivated in enormous fields of 
hundreds of acres. The delightful odor 
from these fields can be smelt at seven mH'es’ 
distance on the river. Tho valuable article 
of commerce known as attar of roses is made 
here in the following manner:—On forty 
pounds of roses aro poured sixty pounds of 
water, and they are then distilled over a 
slow fire, and thirty pounds of rose-water 
obtained. This rose-water is then poured 
over forty pounds of fresh roses, and from 
that is distilled at most twenty pounds of 
rose-water. This is then exposed to tho 
cold night-air, and in the morning a small 
quantity of oil is found on tho surface.— 
From eighty pounds of roses, about 200,- 
000, an ounce and a half of oil, at the ut¬ 
most, is obtained; and even at Ghazipoor it 
costs forty rupees (twenty dollars) an ounce. 
A beautiful oriental proverb runs thus : 
“ With time and patience, the mulberry leaf 
becomes satin.” 
Ladies in Paris, this winter, wear cloth 
cloaks like those of gentlemen, and carry 
their hands in the pockets on the sides. 
