RURAL LIFE. It is seldom that we find a sketch of rural life so graphically, beautifully and truthfully depicted as the one we are about to give our readers. It is a scene that Paul Potter could transfer to canvas, or Gerard Dow or Teniers embalm in imperishable colors. And here it is, and its source will be discovered before the reader finishes the article: irons, and goes out to fodder. He chops up a few pumpkins for the milch cows, deals out a measure of corn for old "brindle," which must die a week to-day to fill the beef barrel, throws a few nubbins to the working oxen that they may be in condition for the spring work, and then mounts the hay mow. The farmer knows what he's about. There is a warm sta ble for each of the cattle, and even the calves have, for every two, a stable of their own. What are the country people at, this weath- The sun comes out so bright to-day, he opens er? We mean the people who live so far the doors, lets down the bars, and permits them the country that they cannot take a daily pa- to stroll for a few hours in the common yard. per and have the news of the whole world's The rack is filled with timothy, and the farmorning poured into their ears after breakfast: mer pumps a trough full of water for their Well, the sun rises when about an hour high, use. in such places generally. And before the farmer has finished his breakfast of buckwheat cakes and fried ham, it is time for Henry and little Sarah to be wrapped in their warm comforters, their woolen mittens warmed, and they to be off to school. Here is Uncle Ben, just passing with his sled-load of hogs, on the way to market. The little ones can climb up to his seat in front, and burying themselves in the buffalo skin till nothing but their crimson noses and sparkling eyes show outside, ride to very door of the old school house. Smoke curls up lazily from the chimney, but it is very copious smoke, and if there is not a heater inside, little Sally has missed her guess. The boys have built a fort outside, which is almost as high as their heads; they can fire their snow halls into the foe. The down towners have got possession this morning, and even now the sturdy up towners are preparing to assault it. The word is given, and the at-in with them, and ride down to the store. tacking force is in motion. The snow balls The post-office is there, and there are all the fly into their faces, filling their coats and bo-hangers about, who have no cattle to fodder, soms, but they only inflame the ardor of the up towners the more for victory. They have mounted the slippery wall of the fort, and are just about to leap within, when the rat-tat-tat of the master's ferule upon the door-sill brings the Hurry, old gentleman, or before you have given the hens their corn and replenished their cup of lime-water, curried down the horses and fed them their oats, given the pigs-alas! their fathers and mothers were made pork of a month ago, and though they are of a tender age and little able to support the dignities and responsibilities of porkers, they must do it, for they have no betters now-greased the wagon and put new straw into the sleigh bottom, the bell will ring for dinner. After dinner, some stalks must be given to the cattle, and then must come the promised sleigh ride, when mother will take down a basket of eggs to get some sugar with, and a pound of that beautiful which the boarding-house yellow butter keeper whose invention of yellow spectacles off lard upon his boarders for butter, never dreams of buying, it comes so high in the market-to barter for a calico dress. to pass Get and the slack farmers who stack their cornstalks in their barn-yard, that the cattle may help themselves, and leave the bars down, that they may go to the spring to drink when they choose. There the idlers and the lazy all do congregate. They champ peanuts and craunch apples over the red hot stove, and at odd spells they play a game of back gammon. They talk over village gossip and local politics, and one, more wise than the rest, who has borrowthe farmer's Times from the newspaper box in the post-office, reads occasionally a The farmer lays a large fore log on the and-" paragraph from it, perhaps about the caloric the battle to a sudden conclusion. The as- ship, and then they laugh about the Arabia rarely prosperous; for when confidence is withdrawn, poverty is like to follow. which did not beat the Baltic, and bet that we will have Cuban members in Congress before the new meeting house is paid for ! But the good woman has made her purchases, and the farmer has got his paper and the news, so the gray mare is headed for home. We must stop at the shoe shop, though, and leave Dick's shoes to be mended. Whew, how hot these shoemakers keep it! And the lazy fellows who belong outside-they worked hard enough last summer-sit smoking their pipes, telling stale stories, and yawning all the day. Out, you vagabonds, into the fresh air, and give the honest cobblers the room you occupy; have a game at snow-balling, and wake yourselves up. True, you can't get wages for your work at this season, but why not be cyphering at home, or knitting on the seine? Your good old father has been at it every leisure hour, and will sit up till nine o'clock to night, to hurry it along. Heigho, it is almost sunset now! We must back again to our foddering, and night will overtake us before we are through. And now supper-the simple stories of the little folks, the apples and nuts, the stocking-knitting in one corner, seine-knitting in the other, the piece read from the paper and the comments on it, and the 'big ha' Bible' brought out and a glorious psalm read before evening prayers, and thus ends a seasonable day in the country. By nine o'clock the fire is all buried up on the hearth, the lights are put out, and pleasant dreams, if any, haunt the sound sleep of the good country people. Of such are the rural districts, and such are the sinews of the Republic.-N Y. Weekly Times. ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN. Are you stepping on the threshold of life? Secure a good moral character. Without virtue you cannot be respected; without integrity and sobriety, you can never rise to any point of distinction and honor. People who have the rashness to intrude into stations without proper authority and the requisite preparation for the services of the public, not only involve others in loss, but subject themselves to ridicule. | The shortest and surest way to live with honor in the world, is to be in truth and reality what we would appear to be. When once a concealment or deceit has been practised in matters where all should be fair and open as the day, confidence can never be restored any more than you can restore the white bloom to the grape or plum that you have once pressed in your hand. Error is the cause of man's misery, the cor rupt principle that has produced evil in the world; 'tis this which begets and cherishes in our souls all the evils that afflict us, and we can never expect a true and solid happiness, but by a serious endeavor to avoid it. Falsehood is not only one of the most humiliating vices, but sooner or later it is most certain to lead to serious crimes. Zeal not rightly directed, is pernicious-for as it makes a good cause better, so it makes a bad cause worse. EDUCATED WOMEN. The education of women, like that of men, the difference of their employments will of should tend to prepare them for their duties; course render their studies different. It is the duty of a woman to educate her children, the boys until a certain age, and girls until they are married. How much wisdom is requisite to manage the mind and disposition of each their humors, to anticipate the effects of their child, so as to guide their intellects, manage growing passions, and to rectify their errors. How much prudence should a mother have in order to maintain her authority over them, without losing their friendship and their confidence. Surely the mother of a family ought to possess a religious, mature and firm mind, acquainted with the human heart. We cannot enter into an entire detail of the economy of women. They are apt to neglect it, and think it proper only for the lower classes; those women especially who are brought up in idleness and indolence, disdain the detail of domestic life. PATIENCE is a tree whose roots are bitter, The trickish, deceitful and dishonest, are but the fruit is very sweet. For the Miscellany. FASHION. BY MRS. C. H. PARLIMAN. Fashion, the most despotic and finveterate tyrant of mankind, is but another name for pride, by which both men and angels have fal len. It is a fell, though licensed fiend, gone forth into the midst of every society, crushing to earth thousands of unhappy victims, who immolate themselves upon its unholy altar. Yet, the murderer is fostered and best defended by him from whom it has cruelly torn some near and dear friend, or by him who is already enchained in its fearful influence; and we, who boast of being a "free and happy natiion," wear with pleasure, the shackles, and bow down in base servility, at the footstool of fash ion. Among womankind, we are proud to say, have ever been found deeds of deep devotedness and noble generosity, while truth, piety and love, have encircled them with a spirit-halo, which seemed the smile of deity over a sindarkened earth. Among them, also, are found deeds which would shame an infuriated demon, and cause the stoutest hearts to shudder with terror and disgust. We wonder not that the ancients represented the graces and furies as females. Many there are, who, bound by the ties of fraternal and sisterly love, forgetful of self and self-interest, are striving to alleviate the sorrows and miseries of those around them. Lofty intellects, noble hearts and generous Fashion has ever proved but a hated basilisk, which lives only to destroy. She has get her seal of approval upon some of the darkest crimes which blot the pages of history; while woman has smilingly trode, a willing victim in its unholy career. In dress, in society, in conduct, in speaking, and even in thinking, fash-means, are now united to carry on the great ion is her oracle, and she obeys with implicit work of moral and intellectual reformation, confidence, its fickle and heartless mandates. which, we trust, will never cease, until the There are those, (nor are they few,) who smile of happiness shall irradiate every countenance overshadowed by a single cloud. And are never heard to express an opinion upon a subject of any importance; never confront shall we be the last to rise in rebellion against crime or error, however dark or degrading its a merciless tyrant? shall we be the last to pay character, if found in the fashionable walks of our devoirs at the shrine of virtue, wisdom society. They dare not say they have a soul, and temperance? Sisters, we have long slum through fear that souls should become unfash-bered by the watch-fires of our own happiionable. Such persons are, and should be des-ness, until those rays which once shed such a pised and pitied, by those who possess intellect and judgment, and fear not to use them. It may well be said of woman, as of one of old-"she is not dead, but sleepeth"-and she waits but the voice of some master-spirit, ere she will, phoenix-like, rise from her former self, and march onward in the glorious contest of mind. The aurora of a brighter day has smiled upon the world, and everywhere do we see the shackles of custom fast falling off; and woman dares to step forth and assist her own "proud nobility of soul," bendeavoring to cheering and hallowed influence around, have become dim; nay, in many instances totally extinguished. Let us arouse into action the giant energies of the soul-shake off those baleful influences which everywhere surround us, and which would keep us grovelling in ignorance, not to say vice; and press onward in the noble cause of relieving and elevating those upon whom fortune and the fates may not have smiled as kindly as upon ourselves. Let us, linked hand in hand,and heart respond. el-ing to heart, step boldly forth, and strive to redeem our sex from the foul, but alas! we fear, too true imputations which are charged upon them. Let our aim be high, our actions noble, generous and virtuous, and though evate the standard of morals and intellect, high above the petty thraldom of fashion, or glitter of paltry gold, by raising her voice in staying the tide of intemperance and immor "Doomed o'er the sea of life to bear our sail, And brave the buffet of each varying gale: so as to preserve the feathers uninjured; the next is to melt down the fat and pour it into bags formed of the skin of the thigh and legs, strongly tied at the lower end. The grease of Guide through the scenes of time, and close at last, an ostrich in good condition fills both its legs; A life of joy in every virtue past.” HANOVER, 1853. OSTRICH CATCHING. For the following particulars relative to the habits of the ostrich, and the various modes of taking it, we are indebted to a gentleman who spent many years in Northern Africa and collected these details from native sportsmen, his principal informant Abd-el-Kader-Mohammed. ben Kaddour, a nim rod of renown thro ghou the Arab tribes of this region. seen and as it brings three times the price of com- TANNED GELATINE OR ARTIFICIAL The Arab country comprises the northern skirts of the Saharah Desert, where water and herbage are plentiful in comparison with the arid plains of the center. Throughout this region ostriches may frequently be travelling in pairs, or in companies of 4 or 5 couples; but where there has been a recent fall of rain, one is almost sure to find them grazing together in large numbers, appearing at a distance like a herd of camels. This is a favorable opportunity for ostrich hunting, especially if the weather is warm; for the A manufactory has been established in Paris greater the heat, the less vigor the birds have for the construction of a variety of ornamenfor prolonging the chase. It is well known, tal articles with th's substance. The gelatine that, though the ostrich cannot raise itself into is usually obtained from bones, by treating them the air, it is nevertheless so swift of foot, that with a weak solution of muriatic acid, and is it cannot be fairly run down by the horses of afterwards tanned by the common process, as the region, which, in an emergency, are known in making leather. Upon becoming hard and to run one hundred and eighty miles in a single | dry it assumes the appearance of horn or torday. An ostrich hunt is therefore undertaken by at least ten horsemen together, who, being apprized of the spot where a large group are feeding, approach with extreme caution, and form a cordon around them. To prevent the birds from escaping from the circle thus formed is all they attempt, and it requires their utmost dexteri y. The terrified creatures run hither and th ther, and not managing their breath as they would in an ordinary pursuit, they at length become exhausted, and betray it by flapping neir wings. The sportsmen now fall deliberately upon them, and either lead them away alive, or fell them with a blow upon the When ill reports are spread of head. Their first care is to remove the skin, so that nobody may believe them. toise shell, and is employed for the same purposes of those natural productions. It is sofened by being boiled in water with potash, when it may be formed into any shape and the figure moulded. In the soft state it may also be inlaid with silver, gold or other metals, and it may be streaked with various colored materials, so as to resemble the finest and most beau. tiful woods. It is probable that this substance will be brought very extensively into use, on account of its elegance and cheapness.-ScienAmerican. you, live COURTSHIP AMONG THE BRETON little ones under her wings. Again the bren PEASANTRY. taer departs; he returns with the grandmother. 'I cannot find your dove.' he says, 'but I The village tailor in Brittainy, performs a have found an over ripe apple; and an apple most important part; and as he is generally wrinkled by the sun and in the wind, that has the poet, so is he frequently selected as the hung a long time on the tree among the leaves; put it into your pocket, and give it to your negotiotor of the rustic marriages of the dis-pigeons to eat, and he will mourn no more: trict. When the preliminaries have been ar- I want not your ear of corn, nr your wrinranged, the tailor-then called the 'baz valan,'kled apple, but my little dove, and seek her I or 'the messenger of love, from the young man to his fiancee, proceeds to the residence of the parents of the latter, bearing with him a branch of broome in his hand, as a symbol character istic of his mission. Here he is introduced to the brentaer, or advocate or defender on the part of the young girl, whose duty it is to baffle the importunity of the lover's missionary as long as possible. The baz-valan after the usual courtesies of greeting, replies to the brentaer respecting the purpose of his visit, and informs him that a certain pigeon and a beantiful white dove were wont to consort together, but the latter having been scared away by a sparrow hawk, he is now seeking for her in every direction. The brentaer replies, "that ne has seen neither dove nor pigeon.' 'Young man, you lie,' responds the baz an, rather unceremoniously; our people beheld the white dove in her flight, descend into your very orchard.' The brentaer still denies all knowledge of the lost one; upon which the messenger of the young man declares that his pigeon will ly die, and that he must depart to seek the dove elsewhere.' 'Stop, friend,' the other replies, 'I will go and search the house; perhaps I may find will.' 'Good heavens! have patience friend, 'replied the young lady's advocate, 'your little dove is not lost; she is well taken care of in my chamber, in cage of ivory, with bars of gold and silver so gay, so sweet, so beautiful, my little dove!' At length after this long delay the fair betrothed is produced. The father of the family also makes his appearance and, brings a horse's girth; while he fastens this rude appendage, the brentaer sings an appropriate, but by no means delicate song. Other ceremonies and songs follow, and it the exactions on the wedded pair cease.. In is long after the ceremony is concluded before parts of Brittainy, in Leon, for example, the bride and bridegroom are the subjects of the 'fete of the cupboard,' a piece of furniture of description being presented to them as a dag ft. It is commonly made of walnut tree, highly polished and ornamented. Decoval-orated with garlands, it is onveyed to the house of the newly married couple, in a car drawn by horses, whose manes and tails are adorned with glittering ribbons. The mistress of the house covers the cupboard with a linen cloth, upon which she places two piles of pancakes, a jug of wine, and a drinking cup. The oldest sure-member of the family of the husband fills the cup, and presents it to the eldest of the parents of his bride. After still further ceremonies, all present partake of the wine and eatables, and the cupboard, amid the cheers of the assembled guests, is placed in the most conspicuous place in the mansion. The day after the marriage the poor of the parish, or rather the mendicant wait upon the bride and bridegroom, and divide the remnants of the marriage feast. The young wife with her petticoats tucked up attends upon the females, and her husband upon the main portion of their guests. At the conclusion of the repast the husband offers his arm to the most respectable of the women and his the best dressed beggar, and the entertainment wife, following his example, gives her hand to ends with a dance and a song. The latter, Le Chout des Pauvres,' is dressed in most part in praise of the newly constituted mistress of the He retires, and shortly returns with a little girl. No, no, that is not my dove; yet charming little flower, if my pigeon were a drop of dew, he would descend upon thee! then after a pause, he adds, 'I shall ascend to your granary perhaps she has entered it in her flight.' 'Wait a while, friend,' says the brentaer; and returning, he again returns with the mistress of the house, 'I have been into the granary,' he cries; ‘I could not find your dove, only 1 1 house, who is extolled as the most beautiful creature in the parish; as amiable, as pretty, with feet light as those of the fawn, and eyes bright as two drops of dew.-From an article in Tait's Magazine. |