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by CHARLES DAVIS.] VOIUME 2. BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE. AGENTS. Bibb County. Alexander Richards, Esq. Telfair “ Rev. Charles J. Shelton. Mclntosh “ James Blue, Esq. Houston “ B. J. Smith, Esq. Pulaski “ Norman McDuffie, Esq. Twiggs “ William H. Robinson, Esq. TERMS. Three Dollars in advance—s 4 at the end of the year. ID”No subscriptions received for a less term than six months and no paper discontinu ed until all arrearages are paid except at the option of the publisher. XT All letters and communications in relation to the paper, must be POST PAID to en sure attention. XT ADVERTISEMENTS conspicuously in serted at One Dollar per one hundred words, for the first insertion, and Fifty Cents for ev ery subsequent continuance—Rule and figure work always double price. Twenty-five per cent, added, if not paid in advance, or during the continuance of the advertisement. Those sent without a specification of the number of insertions will be published until ordered out, and charged accordingly. Legal Advertisements published at the nsual rates. XTN. B. Sales of Land, by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, are required, by law, to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court-house in the county in which the property is situate.— Notice of these sales must be given in a public gazette, Sixty Days previous to the day of sale. Sales of Negroes must be at public auction, on the first Tuesday of the month, between the usual of sale, at the place of public sales in the county where the letters testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, may have been granted, first giving sixty days notice thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this State, and at the door of the Court-house,where such sales are to be held. Notice for the sale of Personal Property,must he given in like manner, Forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Es tate must be published for Forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must be published for Four Months. Notice for leave to sell Negroes, must be published for Folk Months, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. A \>w Advertisement, A .Yew Year, and a .Yew Inducement, for sub scribing to the M eekly Messenger! VTA HE cheapest and decidedly the most pop -8 ular Family Newspaper in the U States, with a circulation of many thousand subscrib ers The American Weekly Messenger is published every Wednesday, on beautiful white, paper, of the largest class, at $g per annum, or ten subscriptions for $11). Its contents are adapted to the wants of the Farmer, Mechanic, Tradesman, Agriculturist Merchant and Manufacturer. This Journal was commenced on the first of January last, and. without any previous effort to herald its success, went into immediate and japid circulation. Such was the unprecedent ed popularity which attended its projection that, in about six months from the period it was first issued, not less than fifteen thousand names were embraced on its subscription lists! which have been ever since constantly and rapidly increasing, and now bid fair to super cede in extent and stability every other pub lication which has existed in the literary world. • It is generally conceded that the contents of the Messenger embraces as much original matter as any other periodical of the present day. The diffusion of useful and wholesome information, with a view to the cultivation of a correct knowledge of Polite Literature, is the chief object at which it aims. Arrangements have'been entered into, by which the publish er will be assisted in the editorial department by the talents of three or four gentlemen of distinguished abilities—and it is intended to introduce several important improvements, which will bespeak additional popularity for its columns. As the character and leading features of this Journal are well known throughout the United States, it will be superfluous to enter into a recital ol the same. The season is approach ing however, when the reading public are ex pected to make their selections for the next year, and we deem it advisable, therefore, to furnish a brief and explicit statement of our terms, which we hope will prove satisfactory, and be implicitly observed : A ten dollar bill, forwarded by mail, postage paid, will pay for ten copies of the Messenger for one year ! A five dollar bill, forwarded by mail, postage paid, will pay for four copies for one year ! Two dollars, paid in advance, is the price of an individual subscription for one year One dollar, in advance, will pay for a single subscription for six months only. A five dollar note will pay one year's sub scription to the Weekly Messenger and also the Gentleman’s Magazine, edited by W.E. Burton, Esq. [Jj 3 Remittances from Clubs, to be entitled to the full advantages of the liberal terms here offered, must be made in sums of five’s and ten’s of current Bank notes—any lesser a mount, forwarded by mail, will be classed a long with individual subscriptions. At the expiration of the term subscribed for and paid by clubs, the paper will invariably be discontinued, unless the advance money is for warded previous to that time, and the subscrip tions renewed, in the manner above specified. It will be a great saving to the publisher, and facilitate the early mailing of the paper, it the individual forwarding the sum required tor four, or ten, or more subscribers, when they are located together, will allow the package to be addressed to the Postmaster, or someone a mong themselves, who being mad?' acquainted with the names of the Club, can as readily dis tribute them as if directed separately. All letters mnst be postpaid, or they will not be taken out of the office. Address CHARLES ALEXANDER, Athenian Buildings,Franklin Place, I’hiladel a PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, IN THE CITY OF BRUNSWICK, GLYNN COUNTY, GEORGIA BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, AUGUST 16, 1838. POETRY. ON LEAVING A SCENE IN BAVARIA BY THOMAS CAMPBELL. Adieu to the woods and water's side, Imperial Danube’s rich domain; Adieu the grotto wild and wide, The rocks abrupt and glassy plain! For pallid autumn once again Hath swelled each torrent of the hill; Her clouds collect, her shadows sail, And watery winds that sweep the vale Grow louder and louder still. But not the storm, dethroning fast Yon monarch oak of massy pile; Nor river roaring to the blast Around its dark and desert isle; Nor church-bell tolling to beguile The cloud-born thunder passing by, Can sound in discord to my soul; Roll on, ye mighty waters, roll! And rage, thou darkened sky! Oh! heart-effusions, that arose From nightly wanderings cherished here, To him who flies from many woes, Even homeless deserts can be dear! The last and solitary cheer Os those that earn no earthly home; Say, is it not, ye banished race, In such a loved and lonely place Companionless to roam? Yes! I have loved thy wild abode, Unknown, unploughed, untrodden shore, Where scarce a woodman finds a road, And scarce the fisher plies an oar; For man's neglect 1 love thee more; That art nor avarice intrude To tame thy torrent’s thunder shock, Or prune thy vintage of the rock, Magnificently rude. Unheeded spreads thy blossom’s bud Its milky bosom to the bee; Unheeded fans along the flood Thy desolate and aged tree; Forsaken scene, how like to thee The fate of unbefriended worth! Like thine her fruit dishonored falls, Like thee in solitude she calls A thousand treasures forth. 71 I H V E L Mj A A V . THE BRIDE. A SKETCH. Emma had wheeled the sofa in front of the fire, and as Charles seated himself be side her he was certainly a happy fellow. AI as, lie had as yet only drunk the bub bles on the cup. Emma looked lovely, for the glow of the warm fire, had given a bloom to her usually pale cheek which heightened the lustre of her dark eyes. But there came a shade of thought over Emma’s brow, and her husband instantly remarked it. It is strange how soon husbands see clouds over their leiges brow. It was the first that Charles ever saw there, and it excited his tenderest enquir ies. Was she unwell? did she wish for any thing? Emma hesitated, she blushed and looked. Charles pressed to know what had cast such a shadow over her spirits. ‘I fear you will think me very silly: but Mary French has been sitting with me this afternoon/ ‘Not that cer tainly,’ said Charles, smiling. ‘Oh! 1 did not mean that, but you know that we began to keep house nearly the same time, only they sent by Brent to New York for carpeting. Mary would have me walk down to Brent’s store this even ing with her, and he has brought two — and they are such loves.’ Charles bit his lip. ‘Mary,’ she continued, ‘said you were doing a first rate business, and she was sure you would never let that odious ; Wilton lay in the parlor, if you once saw | that splendid Brussels; so rich,and so cheap —only 75 dollars.” Now, the ‘odjous Wilton’ had been se-i lected by Charles’ mother, and presented to them, and the color deepened on his cheek, as his animated bride continued, ‘Suppose we go down to Brent’s and look at it, there are only two, audit is a pity not to secure it.’—‘Emma,’ said Charles gravely, ‘you are mistaken if you suppose my business will justify extravagance. It will be useless to look at the carpet, as we have one which will answer very well, and it is perfectly new'.’ Emma’s vivaci ty fled, and she sat awkwardly picking her nails. Charles felt embarrassed—he drew out his watch and put it back, whis tled, and finally spying a periodical on Emma’s table, began to read aloud some beautiful verses. Ilis voice was well ton ed, and he soon entered into the spirit of the writer, and forgot his embarrassment; w’hen looking into Emma’s eyes, how he was surprised, instead of the glow of sym pathetic feeling he expected to meet, to see her head bent on her hand—evident I displeasure on her brow, and a tear trick ling slowly down her cheeks. Charles was a sensible young man—(l wish there were more of them) —and he reflected a moment before he said, ‘Em ma, my love, get your bonnet and cloak on, and walk with me, if you please.’ Emma looked as if tshe would like to poutja 1 ittlc longer but Charles said ‘come,’ with sucli serious gravity on his counte nance, that Emma thought proper to ac cede, and nothing doubting but that it was to purchase the carpet, took his arm with a smile of triumph. They crossed several streets in the direction of Brent’s, until they at last stood before the door of a miserable tenement on a back street. ‘Where in the world are you taking me?’ inquired Emma, shrinking back. Charles quietly led her forward, and lifting a latch they stood a little room, around the grate of which three small children were hovering closer, and closer, as the cold wind swept through the crevices in the decayed walls. An emaciated being, whose shrunk features, sparkling eye, and flushed cheek spoke a deadly consump tion, lay on a wretched, low bed, the slight covering of which barely sufficed to keep her from freezing,—while a spectral babe, whose black eyes looked unnatur ally large from its extreme thinness, was j endeavoring to draw sustenance from the dying mother. ‘llow are you, Mrs. Wright?’ quietly inquired Charles. The woman feebly raised herself on her arm. ‘is that you Mr. West? Oh how glad lam you are come—your mother?’—‘Has not been at home for a month, and the lady wlio promised her to look after you in her ab sence, only informed me to day of your i increased illness.’ ‘I have been very ill,’ j she faintly replied, sinking back on lier | straw bed. Emma drew near, she arraug- j ed the pillow and the bed clothes orer j the feeble sufferer but her heart was too full to speak—Charles observed it and felt satisfied. ‘ls that beautiful girl your bride? I heard you were married.’ 'Yes, and in my mother’s absense she will not see—you suffer.’ ‘Bless you Charles West—bless you for the good sou of a goodjnother; may your young wife de serve you, and that is wishing a great deal for her. You are very good to think of me,’ she said, looking at Emma, ‘and you are just married.’ Charles saw that Em ma could not speak and hurried her home, promising’to send the poor woman coal that night. The moment they reached home, Minima burst into tears. ‘My dear Emma,’ said Charles soothingly, ‘1 hope I have not given you too severe a shock. It is sometimes salutary to look on the miseries of others, that we may properly appreciate our own happiness. Here is a puise containing seventy-five dollars, you may spend it as you please.’ It is unnecessary to say, that the ‘odi ous Wilton’ kept its place, but the shiver ing children of want were taught to bless the name of Emma West, and formed the last articulate murmur on the lips of the dying sufferer. The interestin'!* Yocno Lady. The following is an extract from a late work entitled ‘Sketches by Quiz:’ VVI toever is at all in the habit of going to evening parties must have frequently observed sitting on the sofa by the fire side, with an air of the most profound melancholy, the interesting young lady. She is generally jammed in between two fat old ladies, who talk aefoss her, but in whose conversation she never bears a part. Her face is unusually long, something be tween tallow and spermaceti in complex ion. A long cork-screw ringlet dangles down at each side, round which she oc casionally twists her fore finger in a sol emn melo-dramatic style. Evidently her thoughts are ‘far away.’ She never utters a syllable to any one. Now and then she wrinkles her forehead, just to denote the intense misery that is passing within. Her posture, so far as cap be contrived be tween two fat old ladies, is essentially pic turesque; her head thrown back in a de lightfully negligent manner, her eyes turned up to the ceiling; her legs crossed with the toe slanting downwards as straight as a Tuler, and one of her hands thrown carelessly on her lap upside down. At each introduction she bows in the most elegant style imaginable A gra cious smile lights up her features for a mo ment, after which she relapses into her former unconscious state of profound thoughtfulness. Blue, diversified with white, is her constant dress; not an orna ment is to be seen, except that little sim ple black cross, which gives the final touch to her interesting appearance, mak ing her look like the most touching of all beings, a persecuted Roman Catholic young lady. ‘What an interesting young creature,’ says every one to every one. ‘Poor thing’ how melancholy she looks! What can be her name?’ ‘Eliza de Lacy,’ replies | the lady of the house, highly delighted. ‘Eliza de Lacy; what a pretty name!’ says j each young lady who hears the discourse, , and straightway retires into a corner with ! some other young lady, to talk over the interesting pale unknown. At an early hour the interesting young i lady’s papa comes from his rubber, puts a | shawl of some unusual pattern around her very carefully, and marches her away. : Every one feels relieved at her depart- ure, and yet the interesting young lady has gained her end. She has produced a sensation. No sooner is she outside the door than she becomes perfectly natural | and merry—satirizes the two old ladies most unmercifully—retails all their scan dal in the most piquant manner—quizzes the mistress of the house till her father splits his sides—and finally goes to bed with the delightful conviction that all the neighborhood will be talking of her more or less, for the next week to come. THE LATEST YANKEE TRICK. 'Three French Officers and six Men captured by Three American Tars. The town was all agog the w hole of yes terday afternoon, in consequence of the arrival of the schooner Lone, Capt. Clark, of this port, from Matamoras, having on board, in apparent captivity, three French Naval officers and six men. Every body we met had such a droll chuckle and grin on his countenance, that it was sometime before we could understand what it all meant. —However, we went aboard, saw the mate and received from him the par ticulars of the affair as follows : The Lone left this city some time since with a valuable cargo for Metamoras. She succeeded in getting into the port despite of the blockade; but in attempting to re turn was captured by the boats of a French brig of war; the four sailors and a passenger were placed on board the vJ. S. sloop of war Vandalia; and Capt. Clark, the mate and steward, were allowed to remain on board. A prize crew took charge of her, consisting of a lieutenant, quarter master, captain of the foretop and six sailors, nine in all—and thus rigged out, the prize was despatched to the French admi ral at Vera Cruz. This capture, &.c. took place on the 25th or 28th of June—the mate does not remember which, as he had not the log convenient when we saw him. After getting every thing in readiness they proceeded on their way to Vera Cruz. The French were strangers, not acquaint ed with the currents, the coast, the North ers, &c. and the Yankee prisoners blarney ed them so, that they struck rmic.h farther to the eastward than was necessary, and actually made a mistake of three degrees in their reckoning. The Yankees, how ever, knew where they were and what they were about, and kept dark. At length on the morning of the 4th of July, about 4 o’clock, the three American tars commenced their celebration by a bold stroke for independence, when they were only 30 miles from Sacrificios, where the French squadron lay. Capt. Clark, j the mate and steward were all on deck. They first took the precaution to lock the door of the cabin, thus fastening in the lieutenant commandant, and put the hatch over the forecastle—the captain then went up to the man at the wheel, and placing his linger in such a way as to resemble a pistol, swore he would blow his brains out if he did not instantly put the helm down. The fellow' obeyed, and was tied. Three others who were oil deck, were j also “lit on,” tied down and secured. The other four who were in the forecas tle, were ordered up, and as they came up i one by one, they also were tied. The tri-colored flag was taken down, the stars and stripes were again hoisted, and Capt. Clark, after thus so completely re-taking this veseel without bloodshed, with a force |of three rnen against nine, resumed the ! command and shaped his course for this port, with his prisoners strung together like so many dried apples, where he ar rived yesterday at two o’clock. | These three gallant fellows appear to j have met with but little resistance. They j were determined to have possession of the vessel. This, we presume, the Frenchmen I perceived at the commencement of hos tilities, and concluded tliat it would be as well to submit with the best grace possible. The prize was worth about 825,000 of which 815,000 was specie and the remainder in hides. This was too paltry a matter to fight for, and we think it was well enough that the blocka ders disdained to shed blood for such a trifle. The Lieut. Commandant, we under | stand, retained possession of the papers ! of the Lone, but whether he has yet given j them up to the Custom House officers, Iwe have not learned. At all events, we I cannot think that any national difficulty will grow out of the affair. Our French 1 friends should forget it all, or only laugh |at it as»..cut.e trick—of a nature which | the Yankees are always up to. It is in | deed a most laughable joke to think of i three men capturing nine!—[N. O. Pica yune. ; Scene.—The Castle on Fire. —Hob Handy —Where’s your famous prepara tion sor s extinguishing flames? Sir Abel. —Tis’nt mixed. Bob. —Where’s ypur fire escape? Sir A. —Tis’nt fixed. Bob. —Where’s your patent fire engine? Sir A. —On the road. •) Bob. —What’s to be done? Sir A. —l don’t know. Stay Bob, I j have it.—Perhaps it will go out of itself I A Kentuckian’s account of a Pantherfight. BY JAMES H. HUNT. I nevqr was down-hearted but once in my life, and that was seeing the death of a faithful friend, who lost his life in trying to save mine. The fact is, I was making tracks homeward, after a short tramp though one of our forests, my rifle care lessly resting on my shoulder, when my favorite dog, Sport, who was trotting quickly ahead of me suddenly stop’d stock still, gazed into a big oak tree, bristled up his back, and fetched a loud growl. I looked up, and saw, upon a quivering limb, a half grown panther, crouching down close, and in the very act of springing up on him. With a motion quicker than chain lightning, I levelled my rifle, blazed away, and shot him clear thro’ the heart. The varmint, with teeth set and claws spread, pitched sprawling headforemost to the ground, as dead as Julius Caisar. That was all fair enough! But mark! a fore I dropped my rifle, 1 found myself thrown flat on my profile, by the old she panther, who that moment sprang from an opposite tree, and lit upon my shoulder, heavier than all creation! I feel the print of her devlish teeth there now! My dog grew mighty loving—he jumped atop and seized her by the neck; we all rolled and clawed, scratched and a pretty consider able tight scratch we had of it. I began to think my right arm was about chawed up: when the varmint finding the dog’s teeth rather hurt her feelings, let go al together and clinched him. Seeing at once that the dog was undermost, and there was no two ways about a chance of choke off or let up about her, I just out with my jack knife, and with one slash, perhaps I didn’t cut the panther’s throat deep enough for her to breathe the rest of her life without norstrils. I did feel migh ty savagerouSj and big as she was, I laid hold of iier hide by the back with an alli gator grip, and slung her against the near est tree, hard enough to make every bone in her flash fire. ‘There,’says I, ‘you in fernal varmint, root and branch, you are what I call used up.’ But 1 turned round to look for my dog, and tears gushed smack into my eyes, as I see the poor affectionate cretur —all of a gore of blood—half raised on his fore legs, trying to drag his mangled body to wards me—down he dropped; I run up to him, whistled loud, and gave him a friend ly shake of the paws —(for I loved my dog)—but he was too far gone —he just had strength enough to wag his tail fee bly—fixed his closing eyes upon me wish fully—then he gave a gasp or two and all was over. We seldom laughed more heartily than while reading the following account of the way in which they once ‘got up’ Mac beth in India. The Idea of Lady Macbeth being caught shaving herself is ludicorous in the extreme. “Never shall I forget,” says the writer, “the getting up of the tragedy of Macbeth, at Madras.—The part of Lady Macbeth was undertaken by a young gentleman named Anstey. Every one knows how' rapidly the beard grows in a hot climate. Anstey’swas of the blackest tint, and it being a warm season of the year, before the fourth act, it had grown so long as to render it actually necessary for Lady Mac beth to shave before she appeared in the fifth. It was, however, so sultry behind the scenes, and there was so little air in the room appropriated for dressing, that Anstey ordered a table and looking glass and his shaving apparatus, to be placed on the stage where there was a strong current. In malicious pleasantry, someone rang the prompter’s bell which was the signal for drawing the curtain. It was promptly obeyed, and, to the amazement of the whole assembled fashion of Madras, Tom Anstey was exhibited in the costume of Lady Macbeth, in that most unfeminine part of his toilet. The roar, the screams of surprise and merriment that ensued are beyond description.” Like Preserving Vest. —We yester day had an opportunity to witness from the Bunker Ilill wharf an exhibition of the worth and power of the “Life Preserving Vest,” the invention of Mr. W. C. Petti bone, of this city. A full grown boy with all his clothes on but his coat, was buoyed up in the river by one of these vests, and his head kept entirely out of the water, without the least exertion on his part. We believe all who were present were per fectly satisfied that the invention answers the purpose for which it is designed. It is made like any common vest, with the ex ception that the breast and a portion of the back are lined with India rubber, which can be inflated by the breath in a few mo ments and as well in the water as out of it. It is not intended that these shall be put on only when immediate danger threatens, ; but worn at 4t\ times when travelling on the water, as the India rubber, when un inflated, does not injure the appearance. Hartford (Con.) Courier. [TERMS $3 IN ADTjUfliii. NUMsad*- Strong facts in regard to Hoitt* Racing —A writer in the Lonisville dty Gazette, tfius tersely, prfjMnts this mat ter: “ Races, it is said, improve the breed of horses. And what if they do, if they degrade the breed of men. But I doubt the truth of the position. Some few startling or stubborn facta are on the, other side. I never heard of races in Ara bia, yet the best horses and the best blood in the world are there. The great rac ing stock of England and America came from the blood of the Godolphin Arabi an. There are no races in New England, yet the New England horses are worth*in this country from fifty to a hundred per cent, more than southern horses. The horses for the plough, dray, saddle, stage coach, or gig, in New England, would bring under the hammer far higher pri ces in racing sections of the country, than their own horses. Racing only in proves the breed of race horses. I was told in Virginia, by the stage drivers, that their best horses were brought from Ver mont and New Hampshire—the Green Mountain horses are the best in the coun try for symmetry, strength, fleetness and endurance. Yet there is no racing in New England. Racing, then, is surely not essential to make good hoses.” V. vs. W. ‘Villiam, I vant my|v<g. ‘Vitch vig sir?’ ‘Oy, my vire vig, in the vooden vig box, vot I vore last Vednesday vas a veek veil I vent to vidow Vaddle’s vedding.’ ‘l’m wery much wexed at your wulgur pronunciation, Walentine. You should say trig, not rig. But if you are going a wisiting you had better take your wolwet cap that you had on last meeting of the westry. ‘Vile, you are always vorying me vMk your criticism upon my vords. lam not going a wisiting as you say, but am go ing lo take a valk along the vharf, and around Vashington street, and perhaps I vill go as far as Lake Vimico, and see the company’s vater vorks.’ Duelling—Answer to a Challenge. —The eccentric H. 11. Breckenridge, one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania,when a young man was chal lenged to fight a duel by an English officer, w hom he answered as follows. “I have two objections to this due! mat ter —the one is lest I should hurt you, and the other is lest you should hurt me. I do not see any good it would be to put a ball through your body. I could make no use of you when dead, for any culinary purpose, as I would a rabbit, or a turkey. lain no cannibal to feed on the flesh of man. Why then shoot down a hutpn creature, of whom I could make no use? A buffalo would make better meat. For though your flesh might be delicate and tender, yet it wants the firmness and con sistency which takes and retains salt. At any rate it would not be fit for a long fc:j voyage. “You might make a good barbecue, it is true, being of the nature of a Raccoon or Oppossom; but people are! not in a hab it of barbecuing any thing that is human now. And as to your hide it is not worth talking of, being little better than a two year old colt. So much for you. As to myself I do not like to stand in the way of any thing that is hurtful. lam under the impression that you might hit me. This being the case I think it most advisable to stand at a distance. If you want to try your pistols, take some object, a tree or a barn door, about my dimensions. If you hit that send me word, and I shall ac knowledge that if I had been in the same place you might also have hit me.” Obesity in Africa. —lt was a subject of remark among us, and ocfifivoned some amusement to see the different ef fects of heat on different constitutions. with the thermometer at 84, 1 felt cold in a blanket dress, aud other times, at 75, I was oppressed with heat. It appeared, however, to depend mud) on the moist or dry state of the 'atmosphere, I found that a very simple role haq al>V erto kept me in excellent health; tfl felt sleepy after a meal, I considered it a gentle hint from my|stoinach that I was over working it, and reduced gtjr fare accordingly. In fact 1 less one consumed the betMKJpKßiir par ty appeared to hare a Mr iutrtcowmta ble propensity to becpfitTlkt. I did not eat on% half aocustonved to do in England, and yet could not keep myself from increasing. Dr. Briggs was precisely in the same way: and as for Lan der he was as broad as he was long.. [Travels in Africa. Something New. —A writer in the United States Gazette, says that cayenne pepper, mixed with Indian ■*•!, is excel lent food for turkies! The tnrkies raised by this process are more hardy, less ble to perish from the cold storms and wet weather, and acquire their growth at. an earlier period, than those that are rear* ed upon the ordinary food,