[How Very Hot It Is.]
The following lines would have been inserted earlier, but the weather was so hot we could not attend to it.
Did you ever know such weather?
Seven bright burning days together!
Swelt'ring nights and broiling days,
Sultry moonbeams, sun's hot rays:
No one knows which way to turn him,
All things either melt or burn him;
Half the weight of all the nation,
Is flying off in perspiration,
And every man, and woman too,
As languidly they look at you,
Exclaims, with moist and mournful phiz,
"Dear me! how very hot it is!"
Ladies all languid in muslin array,
Loll upon couches the live long day,
Looking more lovely than we can say--
Though, alas! they are rapidly melting away
"Bring me an ice!" they languidly cry,
But alas and alack! it is "all in my eye"--
For before it reaches the top of the stairs,
It's turned into water quite "unawares,"
While John with his salver, looks red and stares,
And the moist confectioner inwardly swears,
As he wipes with his apron his long, pale phiz,
"Oh--pooh! how infernally hot it is!"
Oh, what a treat 'twould be to wade
Chin deep in fresh ice and lemonade!
Or to sit a deep marble bowl within,
And camphor gurgling around your chin--
Hissing and sparkling round your nose,
Till you open your mouth and down it goes,
Gulp by gulp, and sup by sup,
As you "catawumpishly chew it up."
Refreshing your heart and cooling your faces--
Burnt down as they've been with all sorts of sauces
Oh, the fellow who thus could lave his phiz
Needn't care how hot the weather is!
A son of the Emperor Nicholas, of Russia, is now travelling in the United States. He is said to be an intelligent looking man.
[California Farming.]
A gentleman, writing from California to the editors of the Saint Louis Reveille, says his stock consists of about four thousand head of oxen, one thousand seven hundred horses and mules, three thousand sheep, and as many hogs. They all pasture! themselves without difficulty in the rich prairies and bottoms of the Sacremento, and only require to be attended. This is dune by the Indians, of whom he employs four hundred. His annual crop of wheat is about twelve thousand bushels, with barley, peas, beans, etc, in proportion.