North Carolina Newspapers

Volume XXXIII. SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 17, 1880. .TSTuinb'er 87. jjottnj. SEPTEMBER Sweet is the voice that calls From babbling waterfalls In meadows where the downy seeds are flying; ^ And soft the breezes blow And eddying come nnd go In faded gardens where the rose is dying. Among the stubbled corn The blithe quail pipes at morn, The merry partridge drums in hidden place , And glittering iusects gleam Above the reedv stream Where busy spiders spin their filmy laces At eve cool shadows fall Across the garden a'a-H And on the clustered grapes to purple turning ; And pearly vapors lie Along the eastern skv Where the broad harvest-moon is redly burning. Ah, soon on field and hill The winds shall whistle chill, And patriarch swallowrs cull their flocks togethei To fly from frost and snow, And seek for lands where blow The fairer blossomy of a balmier weather. r" The pollen-dusted tbee9 Search for the honey-lees That linger in the last flowers of September, V\ hile plaintive mourning doves Coo sadly to their Ipves Of the dead Summer they so well remember. The cricket chirps all day, “U, fairest Summer, stay 1” The squirrel ^ves uskance the chestnuto browniug; The wila-ftwl fly ufar Above the foamy bar, And hasten southward ere the skies are frowning Now comes a fragrant breeze Through the dark, cedar trees And round about my temples fondly lingers. In geutle playfulness Like to the soft caress Bestowed in happier days by loving fingers. Vet, though a sense of grief Conics with the falling leuf, And memory makes the Summer doubly pleasant, In all my Autumn dreams A tutu re {Summer gleams Passing the fairest glories of the present! —Qeorye Arnold. election^. SUNDAY SCHOOL HYMNS OF THE LAST CENTUKY. 1*0 aut, if not tie ear uin-books if one was Dr. Usaac „ , attempted ij* io use of children,” His “song:” for the last o^tj^L B'rote that his mental to the sear aud A glance at the Sunday-school hj rau-books of » hundred years ago 3eed not bewilder .any worker ot to ay. A new music aud hymn-bSok i was not then aimouuced every week by some enterprising publisher, bid ding for the trade of schools that are ever wanting “something ne?” from which to sing the “praises! of the Lord.” Indeed, all the “new books” of hymns for children for the! whole century, from 17oO to 1800, tllat ate ot importance,jsgpUl be conutef on a person’s fingeil The most- iurjj best, of'childr! hundred yearj Watts’ “Dmfl easy language™ published in l1 children were ai! lyric writings <.’r them when he ‘t£It power “was couiiug yellow leaf.” It is one of the remark able proofs of his genius aud his pie ty, that at middle life, a bachelor,aud an iuvalid, hall'a century belore the rise of the modern sys.ern of Sunday • schools, Watts should have penned hymns that millions of the young are joyously singing to this day, aud are made better aud wiser by the glad service. The tenderness of the mot her’s love still finds its best expression through the simple rhythmic numbers of “The Cradle Hymn.” The quarrelsome youth is most effectively rebuked by “The Dogs Delightand a lesson of industry wisely enforced by the songs of “The Busy Bee” aud “The Voice of the Sluggard.” Though his “songs” for children were not written for Sun day-schools, because there were lew to write for in his day, yet they com pare favorably for seuse and rhythm with the best that can be found in the most popular Suuday school books now. A number of writers penned fugi tive songs or hymns for the young from 17120 to 1<7(>, but they were lnr the most part weak imitations of the great lyric hymn writer, or were of indifferent merit, which the world has let die, and not- lost by their demise. The most important, of the eariy hymn books designed for use in Sun day-schools, was a collection of “Di vine Hymns in Easy Language, lor the Use ol Ohildreu,” written by thei famous and eccentric Howland Bill The collection Contained forty-loui hymns, and was origimdiy printed in London, aud subsequently reprinted m this country, one edition beariug date, Lancaster, Pa., 1807. Mr. Hill’s design was “to add an appendix to tbe valuable songs lor children by Dr. Watts,” of such hymns as were, suitable for the Sunday-ichools of his day. Ilis views respecting the truths which should be presented in such hymns are clearly and tersely stated in the preface: “He|>emance toward (iod and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ are the Urst principles of religion. I have endeavored to lead the minds of chil dren to an ahhorience of sin, and at the same time have dwelt much upon the birth, example, and salvation of the Lord Jesus as the only remedy for the dreadful disease. His uame should bo made the burden of almost every song that is pat into the hands of a child.” Mr. Hill showed his usual wit and wisdom by adding the following ad vice: “At present I only observe that these hymns will be of little use if merely learnt by rote, without being accompanied with good advice and la miliar explanation.” The range of subjects which find a place in his little book would do cred it to many a more pretentious aud larger work of to day. Nor eau this book of the last century bo fairly charged with waut of clearness, not with sickisb sentimentalism, nor with misty and vague docliiuo respecting sin and salvation. A few extracts will better indicate how Air. llill executed his purpose) the rauge of topics treated, and some times the bold, rough character of his verse. A few lines which Mr. Hill calls ‘Sonnet of Instiuctiou” are intro duced by a sentence which closes with his favorite emphatic expression against pariot reciting: (Parents and guardians of childreu are requested to remember tliatasou net of iustruetiou is writidb with a design that children may be instruct ed. What is learned merely by role does them no good.) No eagle, or vulture, or barbarous kite, Had tulxen the air for a ravenous flight, To chase the poor dove, if vile sin had not drove j Uur tiod from the earth which he governed by j love. Then, holy Redeemer, preserve us, pray, ! l hat anger may never arise in our play ; Uh, may we be made by thy spirit of love As meek as the lamb, as mild as the dove 1 The natural progress of a child from one siu to another iu Rowland Hill’s day he thus poiutedly, if not elegautly, puts into rhyme : The little wretch, whose lying tongue Can whisper to another’s wrong, Will other mischiefs quickly dare, And soon be found to curse and swear. Neglect of Sabbaths next ensues, The days that children most abuse, Foolishly apt to slight the Lord, His worship Hnd his holy word. It is quite clear that, iu Mr. Hill’s view, the children of his day were far from beiug all little iunoceuts, with out wilful sins, and not requiriug siu eere and hearty repentance aud change of heart and life. His hymns constantly / emphasize the sins ol -fonth. Vie strongly portrays the quarrelsome child, aud teaches him aud others to sing : But oh, wbat a horrible sight, \\ hen children, with anger aud rage, Like lions will quatrel aud fight, While none can their auger assuage 1 Old Satan is then very nigh, Delighted that thus they have shown A murdering spit it; and why ? Because ’tis akin to his own ! Those who were proud of a new hat, coat or gown, as they strutted away to the Sunday morning schools ot 1190, might bo called on to sing : A tattered coat were better far Than all the ornaments thai are, If sinners can not e’en be neat, But they must swell with self-conceit. And what are children at the best, But beggars charitably dressed? Poor little beggars, who receive Nothing but what their parents give. How would smart “Young Ameri ca” lads relish such truths now T— Then he follows these plum, blunt truths by this: Stubborn tempers, sulky pride, Prove that Satan is my guide; Lamb ot God, thy love impart, Sway by love my froward heart. Let the boy of uow Imagine his great-great graudfatber, iu Ids youth ful days, sitigiug without the least amazement, after a vigorous applica tion ol Doctor Birch from the parent al hand, the following hymn, “After Correction”: Lord, I confess I am chastised Deservedly for sin; And all my evil actions tlow From a vile heart w.ith|n. And shall I let proud anger rise. Because I am reprove^? No I rather let me grateful be That I am thus beloved. In plaiuest, strongest Saxon, re gardless of the smoothness of his terse, Rev. Rowland Hill impresses • _ upon the fVnt>£ of his day the deep sinfulnesH of their hearts. The fol lowing liaes are among the tersest, simplest, and most impressive of his book : 0 L*rd, forgive a sinful child, Wbo.c heart is all unclean : flaw base mu I, and how dtflled By the vile work of sin I And again in the same hymn : Oh, whatn wretched heart have I, How full ol sin and shame ! How justly 1 deserve to lie In One eternal flume 1 On the other hand, the child who has earnestly besought Jesus to re ceive hint as a child of grace, siugs iu Mr. Hill’s verse: 1 mil a helpless child. An heir of woe nod shame ; And but for thy redeeming blood, Can nothing better claim. But when the child was accepted, the words be was taught to siug may seem rugged to our ears, though they are fairly borne out by scripture : Then shall old Satan roar, But roar in vain lor me ; Be thou my shield and great reward, And I shall live to thee. However blunt and plain the teach ings as to sin and salvation may be presented in these hymns, and how ever far they may seem to tall below rhythmic verses of to day, they cer laiuiy are unsuipassed by any mod ern compositions iu this line in theii simplicity and vigor of expression. Iu tins respect all our child hymn writers of now might gather an im mense store of profitable hints by the study of his verse. And that he had the power of mold ing the Unest thoughts in the sim plest language, and iu the sweetest of rhy thin, is snow n by these beautiful verses irom a hj mn which a believing child is taught to sing: .My gracious .Saviour, ! believe Thou cudsi a little child receive, Thy tender love for us is free, And why not love poor sinful me? * * * * » Though oft I sin, yet save me still, And make me love thy sacred will; Each day prepare me, by thy grace, To meet thee, and behold thy face. —Sund y School World. HOW BIG ISJfQUR BiBLE? We were sitting iu a pleasant ar bor, overlooking a cultured valley, watching the sunset behind the dis tant hills, aud for a while neither my fneud nor I had spoken. I don’t think we care to speak when God is filling his western sky with golden and crimson glories. When a man’s heart is full he is usually sileut. My friend aud I watched quietly until the crimson paled, aud the ashy hue of the uigbt cloud appeared, aud then abruptly he turned to mo aud said, ■‘Herbert, how big is your Bible?’’ 1 was taken aback, aud answered at ouco iu a very simple way, “The one I generally use is a small octavo.” I at once saw the merry twinkle iu his eye, and the effort to keep down the smile, that told me 1 had missed his point. Years ago he had been my Suuday-school teacher, and now that 1 had become a teacher myself, be gave me his friendship, and that I had learned to value very highly.— Many and many a wise thing have I gained from him since 1 left his class. He answered me on this occasion iu his usual quaiut and suggestive way— “1 am afraid your Bible/is a much smaller octavo than you suppose.” Eveu then I could not quite catch his drift, so my answer must have still seemed to him very simple. I said, “Don’t you remember my buy ing a Bible while in the class with yon! You wished us all to bring our owu, and helped us all to get small well-bound copies very cheaply.” “Oh, yes,” he leplied, “I remember, but I was hardly thinking about the size of the printer’s book; that graud suuset made me feel how big God’s works are, aud then I weht on to think how big God’s word is. Do you know I believe thut most people’s real Bibles would go into their waist coat pockets.” “Well,” I said, “I have seen the •Pilgrim’s Progress’ priuted small enough for that, and have heard of newspapers and dispatches photo graphed so small that a microscope was ueeded for deciphering them; but X don’t see what purpose would be served by printing the Bible so small as you saj.” “You mistake me,” he replied; “I did uot say that Bibles might be made to go into waistcoat pockets, but that the real Bibles of Christian people ac tually are small enough. Hare yon thought how many pages might be taken out of our Bibles, and multi tudes of Christian people never miss them! Think over the list of the books aud you will soon see what X mean. Take the Pentateuch. We thay remove many chapters in Exo dns, the whale of Leviticus, all bot a few narative» In Numbers, and the first part of Deuteronomy. Take the historical books; we may remove a large part of Joshua, several chapters in Judges, the Book of Ruth, much of Kings and Chronicles, and Esther. Take the poetical books; we may re move nearly all the middle chapters in Job, a number of Psalms, aud large portions of Proverbs aud Ecclesias tcS: comparatively few would luitwnt all the Song of Solomou. Take the prophetical books, aud we may al most entirely remove the minor prophets, leaving the narrative of Jo nah, aud perhaps the book of Hosea aud Mulacbi. Ezekiel, too, may share the same fate. And even the New Testament must be considerably reduced. Some Epistles are seldom read, and the Book of Revelation seems to be the exclusive possession of a particular class of minds. Now see what yon have left, and you will understand what I mean by saying that the Bible, as people have it and use it, is really a very little book.” “I see your meaning, now,” I said, “but I fancy you are rather too severe aud sweeping in your remarks. 1 ad mit much of the truth of what you say, but I hope God’s Bible is not practically so small as you make it Out to be. It is very painful to think that God should have giveu us a whole book ; and we, in our wilful ness, should persist in using only about one third of it. Do you really think what you have said fairly rep resents the general treatment oi God’s word ?” “Perhaps 1 have beeu a little ex travagant iu my statement,” my friend replied, “but tbe best way is to appeal to your own experience. I asked you the question, ‘tlow big is your Bible?’ Now think over your private leading. Am I wrong in say ing that for the most part you keep in tbe Psalms, the Gospels, aud the Epistles? Think over the public reading of Scripture in our sanctua ries ; do you uot think that our pas tors would be surprised to know how constantly they read the same chap ters? Recall your teaching iu the Sunday-school; whole books of tbe Bible have never been touched. I am uot sure whether iu view of actual facts I have expressed myself too strongly. And 1 have a growing sense of the injury done to Christian thought and life, by making and keep ing our Bibles so We want tbe true broadening that comes of reading God in history. We need the strong er eouvictious and manlier tone which would follow reading the Prophecies. We might profitably carry out into life aud society tiie practical princi ples of Proverbs. Aud our whole work, in school aud church, would be elevated and toned by a wider, fuller acquaintance with that entire revela tion which God has graciously giveu us.” As 1 walked home that night I reg istered in heaven this solemn vow : “God helping me, his Bible shall heuceforth be as big to me as he has made it.”—London S. S. Teacher. NEAREST WAY TO HIAVEN. When Mr. Whitefleld was preach ing in New England, a lady became the subject of divine grace, and her spirit was peculiarly drawn ont in prayer for others. She could per suade uo one to pray with her but her little daughter, about ten years of age. After a time it pleased God to touch the heart of the child and give her the hope of salvation. In a transport of holy joy, she then ex claimed : “Ob, mother, if all the woild knew this! I wish 1 could tell everybody. Pray, mother, let me run to some of the neighbors and tell them, that they may be happy aud love my Saviour.” “Ah, my child,” said the mother, “that would bo useless, for I suppose that were you to tell your experience, there is not one within many miles who would not laugh at you and say it was all a delusion.” “O mother,” replied the little girl, “I think they would believe me. I must go over to the shoemaker and tell him ; he will believe me.” She ran over and found him at work in his shop. She begun by tell ing him he must die, and be was a sinner, and that she was a Sinner, but that her blessed Saviour bad heard her mother's prayers and had forgiv en all her sins, aud that now she was so happy she did not know how to tell it. The shoemaker was struck with surprise, and his tears flowed flown like rain. Tie tbiew aside his work, and by prayer and supplication sought mercy and life. The neigh borhood was awakened, and, within a lew months, more than tuty per sons were brought to the knowledge of Jesus, and rejoiced iu his power aud grace.—New York Observer. HOW CHALMERS WORKED MIRACLES. Dr. Chalmers was inneli more than a preacher. No sooner ha<l ho enter ed that great city parish (in Glasgow,) in which he had undertaken to be God’s minister, than its terrible state touched him very deeply. It incln ded in it much of the worst part of the old town, and the ignorance and immorality which he found weic just appalling. He determined to go through it himselfaurl know all about, it. With one of his elders accompa nying, him, he went from house to house throughout the whole dense parish. At fiist, rather to his sur prise. lie was very cordially received, but he soou I'ohnd that it was because he was connected with so many city charities) and as soon as the people had got Him in their houses they be gan to appeal for help. This, lie felt, would m.t'do; it would utterly spoil his religions work; so he at once gave up liis connection with every charity, and let it be known that he had nothing,to give. For a moment this led to a somewhat cooler reeep tion, but, as the people got to know the man, (Jiey loved him for himself and for his religious work among them. Thmi he divided the parish into district*, got a number of visitors to help him! and established a eon siderable number of small Suudax schools, luauiriug his helpers with his own enthusiasm, he accomplished one of the griktest missionary works of modern times. In order to be able to grapple thuVonghly with the pro blem of pauperism, lie got a new par ish carved out. kir him, with a popula tion of ten thoksaud, and arranged with the authorities that this parish, St. John’s, should be entirely left, for Ibe care of its prior, to liiin and his church. He wasldetermincd to re vive the old Seott»h plan of having the poor looked after by visitors from his church, and their relief met by the offerings in tbeUioor-box at the church doors. For the time he sue-1 ceeded wouderfullA Breaking up the parish iuto small districts; lie got every household visited and kuowu ; the chilureny were sent- to school; the people wire taught to help each other; noniutendants at church were'drawn iutoworship—aud the relief expenditure, 'which when be undertook the pariSh had been £1,400 a year, in four yekrs was re duced to £480. * » * * He chose out of oue oFthe woist districts iu Edinburg, the Westport, as it was called—a nest df narrow.! squalid wynds and courts clnsteringj about oue main street, witich was only rather more public iu ithwretch ; eduess and vice. The district a hicli he mapped out contained atiout 400 families, some two thousand -.people, of whom half were either beggars or thieves, aud not above a fourth con nected with any church whatever. He divided this neighborhoods into twenty districts, each containing about twenty families. Over each of these districts a visitor was appoint j ed—some were men, some were Wo-i men—whose duty it was to visit each j family once eaeh week. At their flgat going round, a slip of paper was left with each family explaining the ob ject of thevisiting; and then by leaving tracts, by conversation, souiei times by reading the Bible or ergag iug iu prayer, the visitors endeavored to become friends of the people, aud to lead them to send their children te school aud take au interest iu rc ligiou. Tie laid especial stress on avoiding almsgiving as far as possi ble; aud eveu when he opeued a school iu the midst of the district, he insisted that it should uot bo gratia tous. Every Saturday eveuiug ail the visitors met together—Dr. Chal mers meeting with them when his failiug health permitted—to talk over their work, and to keep up the inter est aud spirit of it. Nothing could well be simpler than this woik, and yet in the end it chauged the whole character of the district, aud won it from squalor, iguoiauce, aud vice, to decency, morality, and Christianity. After a time it became a sort of mis sionary parish. On February 19, 1847, a little “Westport church” was opened for worship, aud Dr. Chal mers administered the communion to one huudred and thirty-two couuuu uieauts, of whom no tower thau one hundred were from his poor district. He wrote of that as “the most joyful eveut in all his life.” It was almost the last public event of his life, too. One Saturday night, only three mouths later, he was happily among his household, though iu failiug j health, When the Sabbath morning came, they feuud him dead. He had j quietly passed away in the night.— From Brooke Uerford’s “Story of Be liyiou in Fnyland,” Not beiug untutored in suffering, I learn to pity those iu affliction. jfarm ;uul jj-ir^idc. ABOUT THE TOOLS, Do not put away the plows arid hoes that you have been using all summer either broken or cakerl with dirt,—or worse still, leave them, in the field or fence corner exposed to rain and snn, as if yon wished to see in how short a time yon could reduce them to things of no value. Some farmers do exactly tins way, avid con sequently never have tools lit to work with when the time for work arrives. Iron implements that are allowed to remain caked with dirt any length of time, soon become caked with a scale of rust also that is not only trouble some to get off, but rapidly destroys the metal; and if any part of the wood work is broken or split, it should be mended the first opportunity, that the implement may lie ready for use at any time. Every farmer ought al so to have a few cans of ready-mixed paint, and the wood work of all tools should be treated to a coat of it once at least each year. The implements would not o^ly look butter—a tiling of some value in itself—tint w ould last much longer and save much more than the trifling cost of the paint The wood work of a plow, harrow, &e., would wear out several sets of irons, if good care was taken to P4git them when needed, and all were put carefully away under shelter • hen not in use. Remember the wise old saw, “A penny saved is a peuny gain ed.” and keep your saws anil every thing else upon this principle.—rfee to these things yourself. If you ord er a buy, or an ordinary laborer, to put the implements away in good ord ei, very likely it will not be done. They are generally dreaming, . thinking of something entirely for eign to their work, and have no idea plow much trouble a little dirt, or a broken helve, Ac., will cost when implement is wanted again. Do keep a strict eye on the tools, if you wish to save yourself annoyance and less at the same time. The ey e ol the master, if he can only get it open early euough in the morning, and knows how to employ it after it I op- . eu, is worth both his hands; but his ! hands ueeil not for that reason be idle either. When he finds a little job that needs doing lie ought to be able to do it for himself. Take good care of what you have, and you will before long have something to take care of that will be worth the trouble, j —Rural Messenger. Buckwheat Cakes.—To have good, wholesome, light buckwheat cakes, you mast get the very cleanest and nicest buckwheat—that tree from all grit aud dirt. Take one-fourth of granulated wheat flour, or one-fourth of oatmeal flour, to three-fourths of buckwheat. Make a batter of these with tepid water aud a little salt, us iug auy good lively yeast. Just be fore baking, add one spoonful or more, according to the quantity made,of mo lasses, and a small even spoouful of soda or baking powder. The half of a yellow turnip isjin excellent filing to rub your griddle vHtli instead of a piece of pork or any other fat obvia ting all,disagreeable odor of the grid dle. To Heal Outs and Wounds.— The leaves of geranium are an excel lent application for cuts, when the skin is rubbed off, and other wounds ofthe kind. One or two leaves must be bruised and applied on linen to theipart, and the wound will become cicatrized in a very short time. Oabiiaoe containing ns it does a largetper cent, of phosphoric acid, uiake^oue ofthe most valuable kinds of fooff for young pigs, calves aiid chickens. All youug animals require a bountiful supply of phosphatic food to mak| bone. Clover is next in val ue to cabbage. “NEvip pnt a particle of soap a bout you|silverware,” says the pro prietor of^n old silver establishment, "if you would have it retain its origi nal luster.} When it wants polish, take a piece of soft leather and whit iug aud rub ii". To Puevejst Fading.—Keep fan-1 cy hose brighiand fresh looking by soaking in string salt water for aj quater of an hour before the first I washing. Calicoes likely to fade | should be treated in the same way. j --1. Bkead HAsn|_Chop any kind ot; cold meat flue, sqald and add twice as : much dry breadfc add butter, salt, pepper aud sweetseream ; mis thor oughly aud wariuaip well. Subsckibe for the Sun. SELECTED RECEiPES. Indian Cake.—Three cupfuls of meal, one cupful of dour, one pint of sour milk, soda to sweeten it, two cogs, two large spoonfuls »f butter, one cupful of sugar. I’ani.Ev Gruel.—l’ut one quar ter of a pound of pearl barley and a 'tic'k of cinnamon into two quarts of water, boil until reduced to one quart; ■Train tbrongb a sieve and sweeten to taste. ( 11! (%. EX I iiO M !.T>.— Iioil fcW’O | fowls until tender, mince tine, add lone pint of cream, half pound of but j ter, salt and pepper to taste ; shape I oval in a jelly-glass or tuunid. Fry ;iu hot lard'llntil brown. To Clean Smoky Marble.— Unisli a paste of chloride of lime and j water over the entire snrfai:6.»lirease ! spots can be removed from marble by | applying a paste of crude potash and whiting in this manner. Light Rye Tea Cakes.—One pint of milk, two eggs, a tablespoou ful ot brown sugar, and a large pineli of salt. Add enough flour to make a common griddle cake batter. Bak# half an hour in a gem pan; serve hot or cold, as desired. Roast of Beef.—A roast of beef is much nicer if, when you put it in to the pan to bake, you set it ou the iiot stove ; let it brow n ou one side, and mrii and brown the other; then add the hot water and seasoning and bake in a hot oveu and the juice is retained in the meat. Spiced Corned Beef.—To ten pounds bf beef take two cups of salt, two cups molasses, two tablespoou fuls saltpetre, one tablespoonful ground pepper, one i ubieapoonlul cloves ; rub well into the beef, turn every day and mb the mixture in; will he ready for use iu ten days. To Bake Eggs.—Batter a clear, smooth saucepan, break as many eggs as will be needed into a saucer, one by one. If found good slip it into the dish. Xo broken yolk allowed, nor must they crowd so as to risk breaking the yolk after put in. Put a small piece ot butter iu each, and sprinkle with pepper and salt, set into a well heated oven, and bake till the white are set. If the oven is rightly heated it will take but a few minutes, and is far more delicate than fried eggs. Fkekch Salad Deessikgl— Shave a small head of cabbage finely, take one teacup of vinegar, a tea spoonful of pure salad oil, cr the same quantity of fresh butter, a pinch of mustard, one of sale, and a tablespoon ful of sugar. Let these simmer over the fire in a saucepan, while you beat two eggs into the other ingredients, takiug care that they do not boil. If made correctly, it will present a smooth velvety appearance. Pour this dressing over the cabbage, and serve hot or cold. This is a capital dressing for chicken salad, omitting the sugar. How to Wash Glass.—Sever use soap-to glass. Wash all wine glasses and tumblers in hot water and*soda, and rinse in cold water. Soap is necessary for ground glass. You should wash ground glass globes or any ground glass in a lather of soap and water and soda with a brush, and rinse ill cold water, and dry them immediately out of the cold water; do not let them dram. Gronsd glass is very apt to get a black look from exposure, and therefore all ground glass, such as ice plates for instance, that are not in daily use, should each be wrapped np in soft paper, so that it may keep its color. If ground glass lias become discolor ed, the following directions will cure it. Wash the glass in soap and wat er, and then pour a small quantity of spirits of salt into a saucer, dip a sponge or rag into it, and wash over the glass ; theu pluuge it into cold and then into hot water ; dry it. Hominy Puitieus.—Take homi ny that has been well boiled (the large is the best), mash it fine, and add to it three eggs, well beaten, one cup ol flour, two tablespoons of milk and a little salt. Make it ol the con sistency of horniuy batter, aud fry in hot lard. These proportions need about a quart of hominy after it is boiled. A very nice breakfast dish. Always start a horse with the voice, never with a cut of a whip. In starting turn a little to one side; in stopping, when goiug up a hill, do the same. Glass should be washed in cord wa er. which gives it a bright and clearer look than when cleansed with warm water.