* * * *

USE OF HORSE-CHESTNUTS.

(_For the Mirror_.)

These nuts are much used in France and in Switzerland, in whitening
not only of hemp and flax, but also of silk and wool. They contain a
soapy juice, fit for washing of linens and stuffs, for milling of caps
and stockings, &c., and for fulling of stuffs and cloths.

Twenty nuts are sufficient for five quarts of water. They must be first
peeled, which can be done by children, then rasped or dried, and ground
in a malt-mill, or any other common steel mill. The water must be soft,
either rain or river water, for hard well water will by no means do.
When the nuts are rasped or ground, they must be steeped in the water
quite cold, which soon becomes frothy, (as it does with soap,) and then
turns white as milk. It must be well stirred at first with a stick, and
then, after standing some time to settle, must be strained, or poured
off quite clear. Linen washed in this liquor, and afterwards rinsed in
clear running water, takes an agreeable light sky-blue colour. It takes
spots out of both linen and woollen, and never damages or injures the
cloth. Poultry will eat the meal of them, if it is steeped in hot water,
and mixed with an equal quantity of pollard. The nuts also are eat by
some cows, and without hurting their milk; but they are excellent for
horses whose wind is injured.

A.B.

* * * * *

A FETCH.

(_For the Mirror_.)

"I do believe," (as Byron cries,)
"There is a haunted spot,
And I can point out where it lies,
But cannot--where 'tis not.

Turn gentle people, lend an ear,
Unto my simple tale,
It will not draw a single tear
Nor make the heart bewail,

'Tis of a ghost! O ladies fair!
Start not with sore affright,
It will not harm a single hair,
Nor 'make it stand upright."

Attend, it was but yesternight,
I in my garret sat,
I saw--no, nothing yet I saw,
But something went pit-pat.

So did my heart responsively,
Beat like a prison'd bird,
That's newly caught--but no reply
I made, to what I heard.

It nearer came--'Angels,' I cried,
'And Ministers of Grace defend.'
Yet nothing I as yet descried,
My hair stood all on end.

My breath was short, I'm sure my eye
Was dim, so was the light,
I thought that I that hour should die,
With sad and sore affright.

And then came o'er me--what came o'er?
Some spectre grim I'll bet,