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desired all should; there he had not been | her friends. The Long Bunched Red, she drugged with sugar until his breath was presumed, would challenge her for length, strong of alcohol, but whenever permitted while Cherry might possibly be disposed to to touch the palate, he reminded its owner boast of size; but when all the good qualiof the currant direct from the bush. ties that make up a currant were desired, she should always be disposed to enter the lists. She would here say many had been deceived in connection with her name, for while they received the name, it was rare that she had truly been present. She also desired to call the attention of this Convention to the fact that some persons, either from ignorance or wilfulness, still kept one of her synonyms before the public, and sent her out as a new thing, under the name of Raby Castle.

Before closing and giving an opportunity for speakers in the Convention, he would like just to remark, and he believed all would agree with him, that the better care given to all the members of this meeting, the better would they repay the donor. He would now desire the Convention to proceed, and as he saw his long and well tried associate near him, would ask her to open the discussion.

The White Dutch, very pale, but withal full as plump as the President, modestly remarked she had long stood by the side of Red Dutch, and even now many considered she was with him perhaps as reliable, and at the same time as mild as any currant should be. She knew she had a strong rival in White Grape Currant, but that lady was too modest to take any credit not justly her due. There was one thing, however, that she claimed over the White Grape, and that was, she always stood up well, and invariably kept her skirts out of the ground,

which

The White Grape Currant here broke in: Mr. President, I have no wish to detract from my good old friend, White Dutch, but she has insinuated that I do not always keep my skirts clear of dirt; this is not strictly so, sir. True, I bend my branches, but it is because I load them so heavy. As to acidity, I think we are about alike, and as each of us have our friends, I hope we shall continue to live right along in a mutual enjoyment of the public's approval.

Victoria, all the way from England, now arose and with a little hesitancy remarked that she had now been many years before the public, and all those who had ever had her acquaintance, acknowledged that when cared for, as a scion of so princely a house as hers should be, she had, like her Queen, borne abundantly, and it was with gratified pride she could here state publicly, she had no cause to fear comparison with any of

A very large red fellow next drew the attention of us all, and on inquiry I found he was called Cherry. He said it did not perhaps well become him to speak against a lady, but if by so doing he should continue the imputation he had already gained of being sour, he must have his say. And he therefore challenged the whole Convention to produce his size or beat him in quantity, if he only had plenty to eat and could be left until he got his growth. True, he said, young sprouts of his did not show

their true character under three or four years, and perhaps if any one wanted a crop right off, and had only common garden soil to feed with, they had better take the President or some other of his good friends.

As the Cherry sat down, there was a perfeet rush of voices, so many desired to reply to him, but the President said he thought his friend the Cherry had in his last remark reduced his bravado considerably, and he thought the members had not better pay any further attention to his, the Cherry's,'

well known acid character.

"Dough-faoe"-"soaped the old President"—were the remarks I overheard around me; but as a very large and handsome lady, although quite old, got upon the floor under the name, as I was told, of Belle Versaillaise or La Versaillaise, all eyes were turned to her.

She said she had not been in this country many years, and her merits she supposed were known to but few here; yet as these

Conventions were not every-day affairs, she felt called upon now to speak. The Cherry gentleman had boasted largely of his size, and with good reason, but she found those who knew her well, were disposed often to offer her in comparison. She said this was perhaps a little immodest in a lady, but she was not the only large one in the land, and as she always confined herself to her true nature, she expected to be excused.

The President here said the lady was perfectly correct, and certainly excusable, for she and Victoria approached nearest to what the public were now calling for, and therefore deserved especial commendation. A very curious character now rose, and with a mild way, said he desired to introdace himself to the lovers of singular fruits. He was a queer genius, always striped; did not boast of giving quantity, but his quality he felt was always worthy the palate of amateurs. On inquiry, I found this last speaker was a foreigner under the name of Gloire des Sablons.

As he sat down, La Hative de Bertin, La Fertile d'Angers, Fruitful of Palnan and many others were rising to speak, when the President said the time was growing short, and no matter what others might think, he was decidedly in favor of giving our dark colored brethren a chance for themselves. These were times when old rules must be broken; and the prejudice many persons had to the odor of his dark friends was fast dying away, in a just appreciation of themselves, and the good qualities that some of his dark skinned brethren possessed. He would ask the Black Naples for a few words.

Whereupon a currant as black as if just arrived from Ethiopia arose, and said he had long struggled in this country against a taste possessed by many persons, but this was passing away as he became more and more a citizen of the whole Union. In England he had for years and years been well received, and here no person who had once had him and expressed his juice into jelly, then used him in cases of sore throat, bronchitis, influenza, etc., etc., would ever

again feel reconciled to be without him. He desired to say he had a friend called Black Grape Currant, that he considered a close rival, and hereafter he hoped the spirit of the people would be to give him or some of his brethren a chance to exhibit their good qualities, by placing them in their gardens.

The Black Grape here got up, but as I had a long ride before me, I had to leave the Convention while he was speaking, so that I fear his remarks as well as those of others of the reds and whites are lost to the public. Possibly another Convention may be held this coming summer, when of course I shall attend and make notes.

E.

For the Ohio Cultivator.

The Lady Apple.

This beautiful little dessert apple is highly esteemed in New York where it is much sought for by the ladies to embellish their tables on New Years day,-at evening entertainments—and dinner parties,—and always commands a high price.

Fruit very small, flattened, skin smooth pale yellow, with a brilliant, red cheek, flesh white, firm, crisp, juicy, pleasant.

Tree of slow growth, forms a very upright small head, fruit produced in pairs or clusters along the whole length of the branches, very ornamental.

Succeed well throughout the west. Season Dec. to May. A. G. HANFord.

Columbus, Ohio.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.-With the above came

a dish of the brightest, cunningest, juiciest little apples we ever saw: as bright as a bevy of little rosy cheeked girls at a Sunday school fes

tival, and as toothsome as baby kisses; as crisp and juicy as a red Astrachan in August, and a good deal sweeter. Let every orchardist have a few trees of the Lady Apple just to please the girls,-ED. Field Notes.

Kentucky Game Law.-The game law passed at a former session of the State Legislature, for Campbell county, has been made a State law at last. It prohibits the killing of all birds smaller than quail, except snipe or plover, under a fine of $1 to $15 for each offence; and also prohibits the killing of any game between the months of April and Sept., under the same penalty.

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For the Ohio Cultivator.

The Way to Health.

a red flannel waist, fastened into a belt, with plain linen bosom and collar, a gray skirt coming just below the knee and trimmed at the bottom with plaid; pants like the skirt. It was very graceful and pretty."

For the Ohio Cultivator,

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And she, Mattie, who used to say she meant to grow old gracefully, and be good: looking at sixty, came hustling along as though trying the tripping step, carrying A friend in Boston, writes me: "We saw a rollicking baby, and leading another. Mrs. T,-of Cuba, yesterday, whom you « Gracefully," indeed! I should not have. visited on that beauiful Island, she is atten- known her if I had not been expecting ding Mr. Lewis' Normal Institute, and was them. Her complexion was sallow and in her gymnasium dress, which was made of cloudy, her forehead wrinkled, her hair thin and spread out to "make believe" that it was luxuriant, her nose looked pinched and white, and her bloodless lips set together with a screw, till her mouth looked more like a scar than the rosy, open, glad mouth Mrs. T-is a beautiful and highly-cul- that used to ha! ha! out so merrily, when tured woman, near fifty years of age. She we rambled in the green wood and swung had lived in Cuba twenty-two years, when on the wild grape vines. Her lips parted I saw her, and walked with her through the in a dry rustling laugh as she wilted down grounds of the old bishop's palace, and sat into a rocking chair, and gave the clamorwith her upon the rare old walls in the Jes-ous baby a good tug at her life. And this uit's walks, listening to the music of the was my best beloved cousin! this faded, palms above our heads, and breathing in shrunken, pallid thing my once blooming the fragrant aroma of the yellow jasmines Mattie! and sweet scented convolulus that crept over the decaying walls and through dying hedgI thought I had seldom known a woman whose thoughts were more elevated, or whose hopes of humanity were more buoyant and holy. She was then suffering with neuralgia, and now comes to our bleak New England, and to the active exercises of a Gymnasium for health and strength. May she find them abundantly.

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He carried on a large farm, had a good many hired hands. It took a good deal of hard work to raise grain and stock enough to sell and pay off the rest of the heirs, so he could get to keep the old homestead; and it took a great deal of work in-doors to take care of the old folks, and tend the children, and do all the cooking and washing and housework.

They had been married eleven years, and had only seven children- the little twin boys, just alike as two peas, they only lived a few hours, and they buried them below the garden, among the willows. And the

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mother, as though her poor back could have borne a heavier burden-used to go and sit and weep there, whenever he or grandpa or poor querulous grandma happened to speak too harshly to her. It was a relief for her to sit there among the shadows and cry softly, and bow her head over the turfy spot!

Poor cousin Mattie! one only among thousands! How can they grow old gracefully, good shade of Hannah More! In the morning there is no time to rest, and pray, and gather up strength and smiles sweet charity and serene thoughts, to help one on through the day. Noon comes, and they unlade the big dinner pot, flying hither and thither as they see the hands of the clock reaching up towards twelve,-hoping he will be pleased with the fare. What time then, is there to muse, and think of the duties we owe God and our families and our neighbors, and how obligatory it is that she all the time be sweetly serene. At night the tired limbs fall into bed, thankful for rest, the last thought perhaps will be, "Is there bread enough for breakfast," or "I do hope the yeast will prove good," or "Oh there! I forgot Ned's pants!"

Sometimes, if there be bread enough and all things right-all troubles off the mind, she will have time to think, just as she glides off mistily into sleep-" How like to death sleep is! How easy I could die !" though she don't mean to die at all, hasn't time to think of it, mus'nt for the little

How to Cure a Cold.

The moment a man is satisfied he has ta

ken cold, let him do three things:

First, eat nothing; second, go to bed, cover up warm in a warm room; third, drink as much cold water as he can, or as he wants, or as much hot herb-tea as he can; and in three cases out of four he will be almost well in thirty-six hours.

If he does nothing for his cold for fortyeight hours after the cough commences, there is nothing that he can swallow that will, by any possibility, arrest the cold, for, with such a start, it will run its course of about a fortnight in spite of all that can be done, and what is swallowed in the meantime in the way of food, is a hindrance and not good.

"Feed a cold and starve a fever" is a mischievous fallacy. A cold always brings a fever; the cold never beginning to get well until the fever subsides; but every mouthful swallowed is that much to feed the fever; and but for the fact that as soon as a cold is fairly started, nature, in a kind of desperation, steps in and takes away the appetite, the commonest cold would be followed by very serious results, and in frail people would be always fatal.

These things being so, the very fact of waiting forty-eight hours gives time for the cold to fix itself in the system; for a cold does not usually cause cough until a day or two has passed, and then waiting two days longer gives it the fullest chance to do its work before any thing at all is done.

Intelligent druggists know that all medicines sold for coughs, colds, consumption, and tickling in the throat, contain opium in some form or other. They repress the brood's sake! cough but not eradicate it; hence the first And so live and die the poor, poor Mat-purchase paves the way for a second or a ties. None of them have time or opportunity to grow old gracefully; they sink - into scowling shadows, and who's to blame, or who can right the great evil, and give to the world graceful and loving, and serenefaced, sweet old women? ROSELLA.

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third; meanwhile, as it is the essential nature of opium to close up, to constringe, to deaden the sensibilities, the bowels do not feel the presence of their contents calling for a discharge, and constipation is induced and becomes the immediate cause of threefourths of all ordinary ailments, such as headache, neuralgia, dyspepsia, and piles.

Warmth and abstinence are safe and cer

Mrs. Thorn's Sorghum Cake.-One pint of sour cream or buttermilk, one half tea-tain cures when applied early. Warmth cupfull of butter or sweet lard, one pint of keeps the pores of the skin open, and resorghum molasses, one egg, one teaspoon- lieves it of the surplus which oppresses it; full of soda, two of creamtartar, or two ta- while abstinence cuts off the supply of mable spoonfuls of good cider vinegar; mix in terial for phlegm, which would otherwise a batter, pour into pans, and bake in a quick have to be coughed up.-Hall's Journal of Health.

oven.

F. D. G.

Loetry.

For the Ohio Cultivator. The Angel.

BY DON LLOYD WYMAN.

The sky is dark and the air is keen,

The ground is white with a fall of snow;
No more the tender violets blow,
Nor lilies under the warm winds lean;
"Tis night without and night within;
My soul is heavy with fear and sin.
With bare brow smit by the icy breath
Of Æolus, far in the frosty north,
I stand in the midnight; looking forth,
I see o'er the desolate sleep of death,

Low in the west, the young moon stand;
A gold bow dropped from the Centaur's hand.

I look to the heavens to find content,
Yet not into Heaven, I fear, I fear!
Ah! God, illumine the cloudy sphere
Of mine eye, and hew in the sheer ascent
To thee, a few rough steps wherein
My feet may cling in the flight from sin.
An angel sat in a hellish town;

Around him reveled a noisy crew

Of drunken devils who raged and threw Him curses and taunts despite his crown, And, though he prayed with a tongue divine, They bade him drink of the festal wine.

My soul is he who sat in the street

Of the cursed town, and though he strive
With desperate strength, the teeming hive
Of demons drags him at their feet;

And, maimed of spirit and bound of hand,
He prays release from the horrid band.
The darker the night the brighter the stars,
Yet a single star in a turbulent night
Of storm and horror, may lose its light
Ere it force a way through the prisoning bars
Of the clouds, that hover within the dark
And drown the rays of the alien spark.

I cling to the slippery cliffs in fear,
Yet, over-leaning the golden rails,
A sinless, serious face unveils
And reaches a hand to me; Ah! dear
Is the clasp of Hope, and wondrous fair
The glorious God who heard my prayer!
Perry, Feb. 1862,

Cookies.-Three quarters of a cup of butter, one quarter of a cup of sour milk or cream, one cup of sugar, and one egg; flour enough to roll.

Fried Potatoes, No. 1.-Boil your pota toes, and when cool, slice them; season with pepper and salt, have ready some hot melted butter or fresh lard in a pan, and fry a light brown.

For the Young Folks.

For the Ohio Cultivator.

The Old Green Parrot.

Here we are again-George, Minna, Stephen, James, Anna and Dick-every one in their places; and bless me, if here is not all our little cousins beside: Tommy, Eddy, Susan, Will, Jacob and Lottie, Birdie and Pet. Ha, ha! how glad Auntie is to see you all; give them the best place, children; little Pet's chair right here at my feet, while I tell her all about Madame Fannies's old green parrot.

It was in the old city of St. Domingo, where Madame Fannie lived. There they never say as we do in this country—Mrs. Somebody; but they speak of a lady by her Christian name. Pet's mother is Mrs. Lucy Smith; if she lived in the city of St. Domingo she would be Madame Lucy. If Madame Fannie was here, we should call her Mrs. Fannie Labo, but there she is Madame Fannie.

"Tell me about the green birdie." So I will darling, but wait a minute. Madame Fannie was the funniest woman you ever heard of. She was almost as small as little Dollie Dutton, but not quite. Uncle John who was with me in the Islands, used to tell her she must put her thimble in her pocket when she went out, to keep the wind from blowing her away. She was seventy years old; but she could run about like a squirrel, and dance and sing like a little child. When she was talking she would make her head, body and hands go, like a deaf and dumb person. She had an old parrot named Peto, that she said was older than she was, that was always walking about the house, climbing over the chairs, or roosting on the jealousies, that is the iron gratings that are before the windows, and peeping out of one eye, at all that was going on. He never spoke to any one but the half hour together. Parrots are, green Madame, but they would talk French by when they are young, but as they grow old they change color, and their feathers are covered with little golden spots about

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