HR. CRAWFORD’S LESSON. 
[Concluded from page 11(5, thia number.] 
After the chill vrcut off, n burning fever came 
or, and tbe poor euffcrer muttered Incoherently, 
and threw off the blankets, and stared wildly at 
licr husband; aud he, trembling as if some 
nameless terror was over him, called to a pass¬ 
ing neighbor and sent him to the next town for 
a doctor in hot baste. It was midnight before 
Mrs. Crawford coukl be soothed into sleep, and 
even then, her husband hung above her till 
morning, watching every breath, and counting 
her fevered pulses, as it his cooler touch could 
quiet their restless throbbing. 
The next day she was better, though she could 
not rise from the bed, but the chill came on 
harder than ever the third morning, and the phy¬ 
sician, though lie talked to his patient with a 
cheerful smile, sobered as he sat by the dining¬ 
room lire, and after a little study of the coals, he 
hung up his overcoat and hat, and the anxious 
husband, who had been watching every move¬ 
ment, turned away with a sigh and wiped his 
eyes with his hard hand, for he knew nothing 
but imminent danger could induce the busy doc¬ 
tor to lay aside his garments for a protracted 
stay. 
1 lie crisis was passed. Mrs. Crawford was out 
of danger, and the house free from watchers, 
and the lights could be extinguished once more. 
The invalid could be drawn out into the dining¬ 
room and sit bolstered up in the easy chair, aud 
rock a little, very gently, and sit at the table 
with cap on and shawl around her, and manage 
to swallow a few mouthfuls of toast, or rice, as 
if to eat it was a duly; and thus spring found 
her — no better, no worse. 
The good doctor was in despair, and taking Mr. 
Crawford Into his buggy one day to ride over 
town for some needed medicine, he questioned 
him closely about his wife previous to her sick¬ 
ness. 
"Was she slender, or had she ever had any 
serious illness before?” 
"Hearty as could be, doctor, and I have not 
paid a dollar for mcdiciue before this winter in 
fourteen years! I hardly thought she could be 
sick. I am afraid she worked too hard last sum¬ 
mer,” was the reply, ending with a heavy sigh. 
“ Building the house! Didn't she have good 
help?” 
"She did her work alone,” answered Mr. 
Crawford, with a feeling half pride, half sliauic 
—pride that be had such a smart wife, aud shame 
that he had allowed her to work so. 
"And that’s what's killed her!” said the iu- 
diguant doctor, as he turned and looked his com¬ 
panion toll In the face, and brought his hand 
down ou his knee with a heavy thump. “ Didn’t 
you know better’ I beu seeing the tears spring 
to Mr. Crawford’s eyes, and thinking what a 
kind husband he had been through her long try¬ 
ing sickness, he added, in a softer tone, " Well, 
wdi, U*a tun way with the world. Never stop 
to think till your wives are half dead and buried; 
and you are no worse than the rest; but see that; 
you take care of h»r after this;” then us if talk- 
iugto himself, he added, "She has seemed sO 
jaded, run down, no vitality to build upon. Such 
a ease as hers had ought to have been cured 
months ago, but 1 begin to despair of anything 
but a trip to the salt-water. I’ll try this now 
tonic, and if that fails she must start.” 
The new tonic did fail; and so one pleasant 
June morning Mrs. Crawford was brought out 
by her husband and son in a large chair, and lift¬ 
ed on to a bed iu an easy carriage, and a large 
trunk and satchel strapped ou behind, and so 
they travelled at a slow place to the nearest cars 
that would convey them to the sea side. 
There were no regrets iu Mr, Crawford’s 
thoughts as a mile lrom home they met Mrs. 
lteed and her husband, the lady’s cheek round 
and flushed with health, and her eyes sparkling 
with the enjoyment of life, for his poor wife had 
grown dearer and nearer every day of her suffer¬ 
ing life, and he would not have exchanged her 
for a hundred like his early choice, but he men¬ 
tally called himself a fool, a double fool, lor not 
following their example, for what was a debt of 
even a thousand dollars, and having strength 
and health to pay it off in, to the suffering, and 
anxiety, and the dark future that spread out be¬ 
fore them, scarcely lighted by a ray of hope, and 
all the heavy expenses were theirs after all. 
At first, Mrs. Crawford could only totter along 
a few steps, upheld by her husband’s stroug arm, 
but day after day the walk was extended a little 
farther, till it compassed the jutting rock that 
overlooked the ocean. Then hour after hour 
was passed watching some white sail far out at 
sea, or seeing the waves dash over the broad 
sands, rising higher and higher as the tide came 
sweeping In, till iu her excitement she forgot 
her aching side, aud lunch hour, drinking in the 
sea breeze and the fresh air, and thus one day a 
new, or rather an old pain, the pain of hunger 
surprised her. She clapped her hands in almost 
childish glee, to think that the loathing of food 
was gone once more. How good the cup of tea, 
aud crisped fish tasted, mixed with a mealy 
sweet potato as she dined, while her husband 
looked on, watching every mouthful she ate, us 
eugerly us if his had been a fast of a week. That 
was the flret real start towards health, aud in 
two mouths more sho was almost herself again. 
True, a little more delicate, more susceptible to 
changes of weather, but her cheek had become 
round, and her eye bright, and she could climb 
the rocks without an aching side. 
It was a glad meeting at home — wife, hus¬ 
band, ami son, and doctor, who was passing by 
and called in to congratulate them, and after 
chatting an hour, the kind man, as ho took up 
his hat to leave, put his hand upon Mr. Craw¬ 
ford’s shoulder and said, soberly, " You will 
take earn of her after this?” 
The reply was, "Yes, yes, doctor. You can 
trust me now, for I would not suffer as I did, in 
mind, lor days after I took that ride with you, 
tor my whole farm, new house and all.”— 
Arthur's Home Mayasinc. 
Written for Moore’3 Rural New-Yorker. 
CO A Tj . 
A BRIEF VIEW OP THE COSMOGONY OP THE 
EARTH—SEDIMENTARY ROCKS, &C. 
There is no subject concerning the probable 
causes and details of the formation of the Earth, 
that, has been more difficult of elucidation and 
of reaching a rational and reasonable conclusion, 
than a theory to account for the coal formation. 
It cannot be thought derogating from the power 
and Omniscience of the Creator, to assume that 
the whole sedimentary deposits covering the 
primitive nucleus of the globe, forming regular 
stratified rocks of more than 40,000 feet in thick¬ 
ness, were simply and strictly a mechanical re¬ 
sult, from the original creation of mat to- and the 
complete, powerful and all-sufficient laws that 
govern it and all its combinations. 
There is no well posted theologian or civilian, 
at tliis age of the investigation by the great 
searchers after truth, in the arcana of the hidden 
secrets of nature, that will deny the conclusions 
that the learned and great have laid down as a 
postulate; that the origin aud birth of the Earth 
is so remote that our comprehension of figures 
is unable to compute the period. 
The six days of the Biblical account are typi¬ 
cal of the. great fundamental periods of the for¬ 
mation, as now laid down and accepted by ail 
Geologists, and the brief account of the creation 
in the Genesis of Scriptures, was given as pecu¬ 
liarly adapted to the understanding and com¬ 
prehension of the beings of that age, and even 
for thousands of years after; and many other im¬ 
portant truths were given aa a wise adaptation 
to minds of the primitive beings. 
It is a reasonable presumption that the earth 
once had a com eta ry existence, gathering up and 
harvesting atomic matter in tho vast regions of 
space through which it passed, and becoming 
consolidated aud gaining density by its near ap¬ 
proach tu the sun ; consequently more amenable 
to its attraction ; at every revolution it gradual¬ 
ly lost its oblate ellipse, and taking an orbit at. - 
proachiug a circle, such as it now occupies. 
And in the process of ages it cooled and eou- 
demsed its surrounding, and millions of miles of 
its following vapors, and covered the whole 
globe with water, of which there is the most un¬ 
deniable proof, in the finding organic petrefoc- 
tions of aquatic shells on the high laud, many 
hundred feet above the level of our present seus. 
Carbonic and nitrogen gases, and perhaps 
oxygen, together with the mctallc bases of the 
Earth, and tho simple metals are ail that is re¬ 
quired to create and deposit the 40,000 feet of 
the sedimentary rocks as now fouud. 
This very brief synopsis of the Cosmogony of 
tUo Earth, is attnply preparatory lo a statement 
of tho prevailing and other speculative theories 
of the production and formation of coal, to ap- 
jf car hereafter in the Rural. l. b. l . 
A HINT ON CARPETS. 
Or all the expensive things in a modern Eng¬ 
lish house of the ordinary class, perhaps carpets 
are the dearest. In case of removal, they be¬ 
come almost useless, and have to be saerificedat 
any price that can be got for thorn, because, hav¬ 
ing been cut aud measured for one room, per¬ 
haps of a peculiar shape, they are useless in any 
other; for If the pattern could be matched, 
which It often cannot, a bit of bran new-earpet, 
sewed on to a bit not so new, would be out of 
harmony, aud tell a story which the pride of 
poverty would rather were coucoaled. The Per¬ 
sian and Turkish avstem of carpeting rooms is 
infinitely better and prettier than ours. The 
Persian carpets, especially those from Resht, 
are exquisitely beautiful. Their colore are 
brighter, the designs prettier, and they are fur 
more durable than European carpets. They are 
made in strips usually between two and three 
yards long, aud about one yard in breadth, to go 
round the sides of a room, with a square carpet 
of any size preferred for the centre. They do 
not require to bo nailed or fitted, aud a sufficient 
number ot them will, of course, carpet auy room, 
however large or small. They have a very rich 
and grand appearance, too. In summer they 
are easily taken up, beaten, rolled, and put aside 
by a single man-servant; and, in the hot weather, 
why should we not more generally imitate Con¬ 
tinental custom, by painting or polishing our 
floors? Floors, painted or polished, look far 
prettier in July sunshine than any carpets, which 
are then mere fusty traps to catch dust, harbor 
Insects, and retain bad smells. Everything has 
its use and its seasons. The use and the season 
of carpets are notin the summer-time. Where 
it is impossible to paint or to polish the floors 
of a house, tho employment of oilcloth will be 
found good economy in summer, aud far cleaner. 
Oilcloth, too, of charming patterns, may now be 
bought very cheaply, and it keeps a room de¬ 
lightfully cool and fresh.—AM the Tear Round. 
• ---- 
THE CHICAGO LAKE TTJNNEL. 
The lake tunnel, which at its Inception was con¬ 
sidered but a chimerical idea, continues to pro 
gress in a most satisfactory manner. The rate 
of progress at which the drift has been carried 
out is unparalleled in the history of civil engi¬ 
neering. The estimates for the tunnel fixed the 
rate of progress at S>^ feet per day; but 
it is now goiug ou at nearly four times that 
rate, being twelve feet every twenty four hours, 
the.drift has now reached a distance of 1,769 
lect, or more than one-third of a mile, or one- 
sixth of tho whole, distance. Tho nature of the 
Boil through which the tunnel is being dug con¬ 
tinues to be the same as at first, a hard blue clay 
interspersed with gravel pockets and boulders. 
It is a remarkable fact that a most wonderful 
variety of mineralogioal specimens are obtained 
from this excavation, including every kind of 
stone found along the border of Lake Michi¬ 
gan, Galena limestone, and no less than six 
varieties of granite. Five different specimens 
of fossils have also been dug out. The work¬ 
men continue to meet with seams and jets of 
carburetted hydrogen gas which on being ignited 
burns with a very brilliant flame. Traces of pe¬ 
troleum are occasionally found, but not in suf¬ 
ficiently large quantities to warrant the city in 
changing the object of the bore. About 750 feet 
lrom the shaft are two chambers on opposite 
sides of tlic tunnel, iu which arc stored brick, 
mortar and cement, and similar articles. Be¬ 
tween these chambers is a turn-table upon which 
one car is run and switched into the recess, thns 
allowing another ear to pass, as there is only a 
single track. On - thousand feet beyond this is 
another turn-tai l ■ and pair of chambers to be 
used for the same purposes. The same arrange¬ 
ment will recur at intervals ofone thousand feet 
throughout, the entire length, thus furnishing 
stations where tne loaded and empty cars mav 
pass each other. The old plan of ventilation, 
which consists of drawing out the foul air hvthe 
exhaust siearn, is still continued, and it is 
thought will answer every purpose until warm 
weather sets in, when the drift will bo cleansed 
by the action of a fun. The crib for t.ho outer 
shaft was not completed last season in time to 
float it to its place. This will be done as early 
in the spring as practicable, and the work win 
then go on with twice the rapidity of the present 
time. It is thought that the whole will be com¬ 
pleted and ready for use by June 1, 1S06.— Chi¬ 
cago Times. 
-- — ■ -- 
MUSIC AS A PHYSICAL AGENT. 
It communicates to thebody shocks which agi¬ 
tate the members to their base. In churches 
the flame of the candle oscillates to the quake of 
the organ. An orchestra near a sheet of water 
ruffles Its surface. A learned traveler speaks of 
an iron ring which swings to and fro to the mur¬ 
mur of Tivoli Falls. In Switzerland I excited at 
will, a poor child afflicted with a frightful ner¬ 
vous malady, hysterical and cataleptic crises, by 
playing in the minor key of E fiat. The cele¬ 
brated Dr. Bertler asserts that the sound of a 
drum gives him the colic. Certain medical men 
state that the notes of the trumpet quicken the 
pulse and induce slight perspiration. Tho sound 
of the bassoon is cold; the notes of the French 
horn at a distance, and of the harp, are vo¬ 
luptuous. The flute played softly in the middle 
register calms the nerves. The low notes of the 
piano frighten children. I once had a dog who 
would generally sleep on hearing music, but the 
moment I played iu the minor key ho would bark 
piteously. The dogof a celebrated singer, whom 
I knew, would moan bitterh. and give signs of 
j violent offering tho tot hk mistress 
chanted a chromatic gam ;r. A certain chord 
produces on my sense of hearing the same effect 
as the heliotrope on my se ise of smell, and the 
pineapple on my sense of taste. Rachel’s voice 
delighted the car by its ring before one had time 
to seize the sense of what v as said, or appreciate 
the purity of her diction. 
We may affirm, then, that musical sound, 
rhythmical or not, agitates the whole physical 
economy-quickens the pidse, incites perspira¬ 
tion, and produces a please at momentary irrita¬ 
tion of the nervous system.— Gottschalk. 
ii-spits. 
V-\' 
BOY LOVE. 
One of the queerest and funniest things to 
think of, in after life, is boy love. No sooner 
does a boy acquire a tolerable stature than he 
begins to imagine himself a man, aud to ape 
manish ways. He casts side glances at all the 
tall girls he may meet, becomes a regular attend¬ 
ant at church or meeting, carries a cane, holds 
his head erect, and struts a little in his walk. 
Fresenth, aud very soon, lie falls in love; yes, 
fall* is the proper word, because it best iudi 
cates his happy, delirlou-. self-abasement. He 
lives now in a fairy region, e- mewhat collateral to 
the world,and yet blended somehow inextricably 
with it. Ho perfumes hi,- hair with fragrant 
oils, scatters essences over his haudkerehief, and 
desperately shaves and annoittta for a board.’ He 
quotes poetry in which "love” and "dove,” 
"heart” and "dart,” pecuUrlypredominate, and 
he plunges deeper in the dt iciots labyrinth, tau- 
eies himself filled with tin. di^ne afflatus’ aud 
Buddeuly breaks into a scarlet rash—of rhyme, 
lie feeds upon the looks of ills btioved; Is raised 
to the seventh heaven if she speaks a pleasant 
word; is betrayed into the most astonishing 
eestaeies by a smile; and is bunged into the 
gloomiest region of misaathrliy by a frown, 
lie believes himself the most Avoted lover in 
the world. There never was! such another. 
There never wfill be. He is thecae great idola- 
or ! Wealth ! he despises tho grilling thought. 
1 Overty, with the adorabl. beloved, ho raptur¬ 
ously apostrophises as th firs of all earthly 
blessings; and “ love in the cotiige, w ith water 
and crust,' is his beau-ideal 0 ; a paradise of 
dainty delights. He declares to fe mself, with the 
most solemn emphasis, that tie wtuld go through 
tire and water; undertake a pilgkiuage to China 
or Kama chat ka; swim storm-hissed oceans; 
scale impassable mountains atidf.ice legions of 
bayonets, for but oue sweel srnih from her dear 
lips. He dotes upon a flower she lias castaway, 
lie cherishes her glove—a little worn in the 
fingers—next to his heart. Hesigbs likealoeomo- 
tive letting off steam. He strawls her dear 
name over quires of foolscap—a; itting medium 
for his insanity, lie. scornfully deprecates the 
attention of other boys of hisjowu age; cuts 
1 eter libbits dead because he said that the 
adorable Angelina had carroty huir; and passes 
Harry Bell contemptuously for daring to com¬ 
pare “ that gawky Mary Jane” with his incom¬ 
parable Angelina. Happy! happy! foolish boy- 
love ! with its joys, and its hopes, and its fears; 
its sorrows, its jealousies, and its delights; 
its raptures and its tortures; its ecstatic fer¬ 
vors and its terrible heart-burnings; its solemn 
i ludierousness and its intensely prosaic termina¬ 
tion .—Some Journal. 
THE MARTYRDOM OF POPE ST. CLEMENT. 
Among the legendary paintings recently dis¬ 
covered in the ancient Basilica of St. Clement, 
In Rome, is one illustrating the poetic legend of 
the martyrdom of Pope SL Clement, on the 
coast of Chereon, or the Crimea. After work¬ 
ing as a slave with other Christian victims, in 
the stone quarries, he was drowned in the Eux- 
ine Sea, but his body was miraculously preserved 
in a splendid temple built under the water by 
angelic bands! And every year, on the anni¬ 
versary of his death, the waves retreated, leav¬ 
ing a passage along dry ground for the faithful 
to visit and worship at that mysterious shrine. 
Once (according to the fable it happened that a 
mother brought her young child with her on 
this solemn occasion, and, returning, left the hoy 
in the temple, imagining he . had followed with 
other children brought by parents to join in the 
same devotion. To her agony she found the sea 
had flowed back, submerging, before she could 
retrace her steps to that martyr's shrine. On 
the next anniversary she returned, entered with 
other worshipers, aud there, to her unspeaka¬ 
ble joy and astonishment, lay her lost son asleep 
before the tomb, unscathed and unconscious, till 
he awoke in her arms ! This story is represented 
in three distinct scenes. 
RANK IN AMERICA. 
Secretary Fessenden, on leaving the Treas¬ 
ury Department, addressed the Chiefs of the dif¬ 
ferent bureaus of the Department, and in the 
course of his speech uttered the following words, 
which are worthy to be engraven and become 
household words in every American family: 
“ I can only say that in my opinion, however we 
may be placed relatively, either iu a department 
or elsewhere, no man in this eouutry is above 
READING THE BIBLE. 
“ Oh, grandpa dear, the live-long day 
We’ve been in the dark, green woods at play. 
The bee and humming-bird went by, 
And bright were the wings or the butterfly; 
We watched the tiny waterra!; 
Dashing along 'r.eath the trees so tall, 
Then it leaped in wreaths as white as snow, 
And sang o'er the little stones below. 
We sat on the moss bo soft and brown, 
And grieved were we when the sun went down.” 
“ Sweet child, our world is brieht and fair, 
For ’tis God’s spirit breathing there; 
And in the woods and forest dim. 
Ever, my child, remember Him.” 
“ But. grandpa, is it this great God, 
Of whom so oft you tell. 
Who once our earthly pathways trod 
And deigned with men to dwell?” 
“ The same, my child: come sit by me. 
And we will read how wondroosly 
He left His home in heaven above 
And came to us 5a pitying love. 
Read how he made the blind to see. 
And bado the lame arise; 
And that each child of misery 
Might patient and obedient he. 
He promised such, eternally, 
A dwelling in the skies. 
“ This holy book, with words of truth, 
Will cheer thine age and guide thy youth; 
Then never fail each morn and night 
To seek its pure and gniding light; 
And ever in the crowded mart, 
Or in the forest dim. 
Bear thou HLa image in thy heart¬ 
ily child, remember Him!” [Independent. 
— » « 4 -. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MY, GRANDPA. 
I loved my grandpa very mneh. We were 
the best of friends, and much together. Through 
the long, bright summer days we walked over 
the fields, picked the ripe berries, gathered the 
roots and herbs my grandpa said were good, 
hunted the eggs, caught little minnows from the 
pond—indeed we shared each others sports as 
untiringly as if we had been the same age. In 
ul vim. iiutu, uu mau in LLLLa cumiirv 13 &DOYC ^ age. ui 
the rank of a gentleman, and every man who "’hen the snow was too deep for us 
conscientiously performs his duty is entitled to to » ct about * m y grandpa allowed me to dress 
he treated as such. Acting in this belief, I have kirn U P with bonnet and shawl, then he would 
regarded the humblest clerk in this office, so come to school to me — be a naughty boy, get 
long us he discharged his duties honestly and shipped, then kissed and petted because he 
faithfully, as my equal, entitled to equal rights criea - 
with myself.” ' You must uot think we were always idle. No, 
rmm. 
The Young Gardener’s Assistant, iu tr.ee ran- 
containine catalogues of Garden and Flower Seeds 
with practical directions under each bead for tho 
cultivation of Culinary Vegetables and Flowers- 
also direehons for cultivating Frnic Trees and tho 
Grape \ me, Ac., to which Is added a Calender to 
each part, showing the work necessary to be dune iu 
fllA V A einil LT J.irkVni r.nfn . ,L __A. . * * 
we were industrious. My grandpa was quite old 
and had worked very hard; so he did light 
chores. I was a little child and my part was to 
go on errands for my mother and grandpa. I 
got his slippers at night, his boots in the morn¬ 
ing, combed his chair, brushed his coat, Ac. He 
kept a horse and carriage, and when the days 
were bright and sunny he took me ri flin g 
W hen he thought I needed a new dress he 
would take me to the store and let me select the 
one I liked best. Do you wonder I loved my 
euiuon wiia Appeiiaix con laminin*. t ■» a. 1 a. , ~ 
marks ou the alleged Disease of the Potato, etc. B? I delighted to see my grandpa run. He 
Thomas Bridokmax Gardener, s edsmau and Flof- was quite portly, and beiug old withal, couldn’t 
1..W W WIDhm Wood A Co. s ,. t „„ , crJ fa5l . More OOM r g feen Mm 
SM,>l!tteUUsp%-o»dr..,rt«mo,.tof,oew e 4Ulon tip over as easBy as a fat babr, and lunvb as 
f E wnrfc fhw? 'fist ittHf Knri n rvl-je.v in a.-*-*-;I • n 1 t - _ 
I of a work that has King had a place in agricultural I hpoptiir .-,,,1 t ,, _~ , , 
| libraries and la catalogues of agricultural books. It ! a ‘ *5. r - VCSl 01 the two 
comes to us in a new and Improved form from these j L *i a * ' •J P ct ^ so we never 
new agricultural book publishers. We arc glad to see 1'- iarre ’ ot h 1 hen he was a good slngerand could 
it again in print, for It contains much that is practical 50 mAn y tunny stories about " down East.” 
and that will aid the tyro in the garden. There has ^ was m Y pastime, evenings, to listen to him. 
vc K.uvn a fviilr «•» ,_ a • V, , j a _ t .1 t » • 
always been a fault in this work which we find per¬ 
petuated In the new form: that of arrangement, and 
the absence of a complete index. Let no agricultural 
book publisher ever again send out such a work with¬ 
out appending thereto a complete index of every page 
and subject. Wc are aware it i* no trilling task to 
make and »rrange an Index of a work of this character, 
but it adds full one half to tho value of tbo book as a 
work of reference- And this book is one of this kind. 
In repubfiahlng this work, in a new form, it seems to 
us it would have been well to have submined it to a 
thorough revision—to have adapted it more specifically 
to the present time. But as it is it is a useful book. 
For sale by D. M. Dewey. 
deed species and varieties; with directions for prop- P atleQ t Ashe came out to get in, feeble and 
BL i ui 1 Jr? U Boston: j! K. TUmaTeo Uy Fearl - ng trembling, I spoke sharply to him. I told him 
... , . 1 I hoped he wouldn’t he all day gettingliin the 
\S a learn from the preface that it was not the design c i.>; witi, o, , . . , 
of the author to make this book so mm-h » tr**At\*f* n-n ^ ^ wtrciiniin^ over bis 
of the author to make this book so mnch a treatise on , 6 
cultivation, as a guide In the selection of varieties. I U ‘ lookcd np at me . ani 
Aud yet it seems to contain the directions most essen- l ’ dd and iuflr 
tla! in culture. This is a worthy contribution to our wus wretched all day ? 
horiicnltural literature —not only in its design and Years have passed si 
scope, but in the style in which it comes to us. The grandpa’s dying blessin 
arrangement of the contents is excellent; the paper him above. How uuk 
upon which it is printed, is superior, the type large him, ever added anoth 
he looked up at me and said, “Child, you may 
live to be old and iuflrni.” Need I add that I 
Years have passed since I ^received my dear 
grandpa’s dying blessing, and’promised to meet 
him above. How unkind that I ever grieved 
him, ever added another sorrow to his lonely 
_ 4 - , . * - ‘ c AAiJAA, a. It* IAVAVAV-VA ftUVtUtl Lllfh lUlICiY 
work is completely indexed, which adds largely to its ,, . L 
value. ' are old, fori 
But this hook is the more valuable because it aids ^ baud to £ 
the cultivator in the selection of varieties best adapted - vou are old 
to his wants-to his soil, climate, and the system of Canandaign 
cult are which ho may be compelled to adopt. Mere 
9ecd catalogues do not furnish this aid so completely AT.TP 
as docs this work. The cultivator is left in doubt by 
them, white here ho Is aided to arrive at a direct con- The grom 
are old, for remember you may need some gen¬ 
tle baud to smooth the rough places of life when 
you are old. Mrs. M. D. L. 
Canandaigua, N. Y., 1865. 
ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. 
them, while here ho Is aided to arrive at a direct con- The ground-work of all manly character is 
elusion And because It is such an aid, it will help to Yer acitv; or the habit of truthfulness. That 
popularize the kitchen garden which is now altogether 
too much neglected by all classes—by both farmers, 
mechanics and professional men. The more we have 
virtue lies at the foundation of everything said. 
How common it is to hear parents say " I have 
faith in my child so loug as he speaks the truth. 
of such works as these, th* better shall we live as a taUU m ra '’ s0 lou £ ad speaks the truth, 
people; and the better—more rationally—we are fed. ma ^ kave man y faults, but I know that he 
the better our influence and usefulness iu life. will uot deceive. I build on that confidence.” 
-- They are right. It Is a lawful aud just ground 
Music Received.—F rom Joseph P. Shaw. 110 State build upon, bo long as the truth remains in 
St., Rochester, ”0Lay me to Sleep whore the WU- h child, there is something to depend on; hut 
lows Weep”—the Dying Girl’s Request. Words from when truth is gone, ail is lost, unless the child 
Moore's Rural New-Yorker, written by Annie M. is speedily won back again to veracity. Chil- 
Beach; music by A. A. Hoi-kins. This music is In- dren, did you ever tell a lie? If so, you are in 
scribed to the memory of the late Miss Beach, whose imminent danger. Return at once, little reader 
contributions to our columns are doubloss remem- and enter the stronghold of truth, and from it 
bered by our readers. - From Geo. H. Ellis, Pub- j may you never depart again.— Selected. 
Usher, :t6 State St., Rochester, “Gen. Grant's Rich¬ 
mond March,” by Cbas, C. Desenhard. This tine 
march, for the piano, has for a vignette a beautiful 
lithograph of Gen. Grant and Staff. 
Beside he loved Jesus and told me many useful 
things I shall always remember, 
As my grandpa grew older I was thankful I 
had been a comfort to him, for his heart was 
very sad and lonely after his dear wife died. 
Seven years had passed since my grandpa came 
to live with us. I was now fourteen years old, 
and the traces of these years were visible on my 
grandpa’s pale brow. One cold wiutry morning 
my father, as usual, harnessed the horses to take 
tne to school. As he drove up to the door 
grandpa said he would go with ua, and visit his 
son who lived a little way off. I was already in 
the sleigh and grandpa had to get ready. I 
thought I had waited a long time, and grew im¬ 
patient, As he came out to get in, feeble and 
There is a certain balance of mind we receive 
iu secret prayer which cannot be attained in any 
other way. 
