Newspaper Page Text
“Indeed ! why Was he the cause?” |
> “Because there is nothing agreeable in ;
hhcomposition. lie is really the most dis
agreeable man I ever met with. Ho is
made up entirely of obstinacy and self-con
ceit. I ‘poii going into the jury.room, we
allotted, as nmual, and found eleven votes
in your favor; hut he Would not vote.—
When asked the reason, he said he was
sworn to return a verdict “according to the
law and evidence,” but he had not been able
to get a knowledge of either. It was his
‘opinion that the law was in favor of one
party, and theevidencc in favor of the other;
and as he could not get these to agree,
he could not agree with us. As to the j
parties themselves, it appeared to him that !
one must lose the two thousand dollars in
the end, and it was immaterial to him who
lost it, if justice was done, and he had
heard no evidence showing on which side
the justice of the case warn Having thus
unburthened himself, he stretched himself
upon a bench, and fell a-snoring, in order,
as I supposed, to give us time to consult on
the best pian to make him agree. But we
could agree Upon nothing farther, except
that he “was the most unreasonable talesman
we ever saw, and to give him a hunch now
and then, and ask the question whether he
would t “agree now?”—thinking thereby
to tire him into a somewhat more agree able
state of mind. But the operation of this
was only to give additional zest to his sleep;
for without waking, he invariably gave the
answer, “No, I wont!” Finding that he
could live on sleep better than we could
without food, we concluded to inform the
court that there was no possibility of our
agreeing.”
“Strange! strange!” ejaculated the coun
sellor, as he turned away, much chagrined
that his wi'l (illness in insisting upon a tales
man had been the only cause of his defeat.
At the next term of the court, the cause
again came on for trial. After the same
testimony had been introduced as at the
former trial, the plaintiff's counsel inform
ed the court lie had another witness to ex
amine, who had just come in. lie then
called:
“Mary Marshall!”
The call operated upon the defendant
like an electric shock. Mary was the
youngest of her daughters, and had not
been in the court before. From certain
circumstances, the plaintiff had reason to
believe that her testimony would insure
him the case if it could be obtained, and he
left no means untried to obtain it. At last
he succeeded in getting her from a distant
part of the State, whither her mother had
sent her, as Morse supposed, to prevent her
being made a w itness in this trial, in sea
son to have the benefit of her testimony.
Its exact character he could not ascertain,
for she would reveal it to no one ; but he
chose to put her on the stand, correctly |
supposing that it would be favorable to him. j
When she took the witnesses’ stand, Mary
appeared to be much agitated, but her beau- j
tv and the simplicity of her manners enlist- j
ed the whole assembly in her behalf. j
“Miss Marshall,” inquired the counsel
lor the plaintiff, “ were you present when.
your uncle died?”
“I was,”she replied.
“ Did you hear any conversation be
tween him and your mother, respecting
some money Mr. Morse had loaned him?”
“I did.”
“Will you state what it was?”
“When he was told by the physician
that he could not live, he called my mother
to the bed-side, and said to her that there
was a package of money in his trunk, be
longing to Mr. Morse, with bis name on it,
and he wished her to hand it to him when
he called for it. He said something more,
but in so inaudible a tone, that I could not
hear what it was.”
“Did you see this money the next day ?
—if so, where did you see it, and what be
came of it ?”
There appeared to be a struggle going 1
on in the bosom of Mary, when this ques- j
tion was asked. She glanced at her mother
and the blood rushed suddenly into her face,
then as suddenly deserted it; her head fell
a little forward, and she continued silent.
“Miss Marshall,” said the counsel, “1 do
not wish to give you unnecessary pain, but
justice requires that you should answer the
question, and your duty will compel you to
do so, however your inclination may be to
the contrary.”
“ I am aware of it, sir ; and in answer to
your question, must say, that the next day
T saw my mother take it from my uncle’s
trunk, and put it into her desk.”
“ Did you see any writing on the back
of the package, and what was it ?”
“ It was marked ‘ J. Morse—#2ooo,’ in
figures.”
“ Had your mother any other money
than this,to your knowledge?”
“She told me she had but twenty-five
dollars.” ‘
“ Where did she obtain it ?”
“Ofmy uncle.”
“ Did she not obtain all the money she
lifUl of him ?”
a ( *3he said, when he died, that she did not
know Jj- W she could support her family, for
all her mc' 4ns were now Bone8 one - Prom this
I inferred th/*U he supported the family
wholly, and I dll' 1 no J know of any other
means slie had, than .through him.
This testimony gave t> case L altogether
a different aspect; and altho.' 1 #,.,® defen
dant’s counsel exerted all his t-’* 1 in the
cross-examination of the witness, to’ impair
her testimony, and in his argument ,0
eliange its bearing, he could not do awa/’
the conviction from the minds of the jury
that Mrs. Marshall had appropriated the
money to her own use; neither could he
persuade them that the pi ainiiff should have
resorted to the estate of Mr. Marshall, in
stead of the defendant, for his remedy,—
Their verdict was, that Morse should re
cover the amount of his claim.
Not many months after the trial, Mr.
Morse, as was his custom in the evening,
was reading his “ daily,” when his eye ac
cidentally fell upon the marriage of Mary
Mnrshalf. No sooner had he read it. than
the fair form of his gentle witness, and her
whole demeanor in court, were present in
his imagination ; and a resolution he had
once made, had occurred to him, which
was, that if an opportunity ever offered, the
money he had recovered of the mother,
should be appropriated to the benefit of her
family.’ Upon inquiry, he found that Mary
had married a man of industrious habits,
and otherwise exemplary character, but
poor ; and being satisfied that his money
would he properly appropriated, he called
upon him ami insisted upon loaning him,
uuti l he should call for it, the sum of two
thousand dollars without interest. The
young man offered him security ; but this
i he refused, saying that he had no fear that
it would be paid when it was required.—
And lie left him, gratified that he had it in
his power to benefit the family of his la
mented friend, by assisting the husband of
his niece, who, gentle reader, was no less a
personage than the son of Thk Talesman.
FRIGHTENING CHILDREN.
This reprehensible practice, although hv
most parents, viewed with, detestation, still
prevails in many families. It is not to be
presumed that any parent, with a knowl
edge of its danger, would allow himself, or
any person under his control, to indulge in
it; and it is for the purpose of warning
such as may be destitute of this knowledge
that these remarks are made.
To appeal to the fears of a child to quiet
it, or otherwise bring it beneath control, if
effectual, ope.ates seriously upon the ner
vous system ; and the child must he want
ing in sensibility, if it does not suffer from
the effects of such a cause during its life.
There are some, it is true, who had their
fears, operated upon in this manner, that
are able to control themselves as they ad
vanoe to maturity, but such instances are
few.
A writer in the New York Observer, who
has recently visited the insane hospital on
Blackwell’s Island, gives the following de
scription of one of its inmates:
“111 one cell was a little girl who had
probably been brought to this horrible con
dition by the power of fear. As we looked
in upon her, she drew her head instantly
under the covers of the bed on which she
lay, but we could see that terror was writ
ten on every feature. She was haunted
perpetually by the thought that someone
was coming to kill her, and every sound
that broke on her ear was the presage of
coining death.”
Children should be taught how danger
ous is this practice of frightening others.—
For unintentionally, they may he the cause
ofmaking maniacs of their playfellows.—
And servants, who are frequently too heed
less, in this matter, should be strictly en
joined not to trifle with the fears of those un
der their care.— Bangor Whig.
WESTWARD MOVEMENT OF
CIVILIZATION.
ny j. L. MOTLEY.
Decidedly one of the most interesting
points in the'past history of the United
States, is the striking illustration it has af
forded of the great law of civilization, its
movements from east to west. It was a
direct and startling demonstration of the
truth which history has long laboured to
indicate. The land upon w hich the sun
of civilization first rose, we know not with
certainty ; but as far back as our vision
can extend, w'e behold it shining upon the
most eastern limits of the eastern hemis
phere. Assyria, Egypt, Greece, Rome,
we behold successively lighted up, as the
majestic orb rolls over them; and as he ad
vances still farther through his storied and
mysterious zodiac, we behold the shadow
of evening as surely stealing upon the
lands which he leaves behind him. Rome
falls before the adventurous and destruc
tive Goth ; and for a moment the world
seems darkened; but vast causes, new
materials, conflicting elements, are silently
; at work to produce order out of apparent
j chaos, through the long eclipse of the dark
ages; and when.light is again restored, be
hold the radiance which we first worshiped
on the shore of the Indian ocean, has at last
reached and illuminated the whole coast of
the Atlantic,while the westernmost states of
Europe are rejoicing in its beams. Here
it would seem the sun’s course was finished.
Thelaw which has hitherto visibly governed
his career, must be reversed; the worlds
western limit has been reached, and either
his setting is at hand, or he must roll back
ward through his orbit. But it is not so.
Just as we were about to doubt the univer
sality of the law, which we believed indu
bitably and historically established, the
world swings open upon its hinges, and re
veals another world beyond the ocean, as
vast and perfect as itself. America starts
into existence, the long forgotten dream of
the ancients is reviewed and realized, and
the world’s history is rounded into as com
plete a circle as its physical confirma
tion.
We have said th&t the exemplification of
the westward march of culture was the
most striking feature in the history of Amer
ica. Connected with this, however, and
hardly of less importance, is the illustra
tion which it affords us of the manner in
which the civilization ofthe world has been
successively entrusted to distinct races.
Throwing ont at once all disquisition con
cerning the great race which have regular
ly made their appearance and accomplished
their mission in past ages,we turn our atten
tion simply to the great race of the present
time. This is indubitably, the Anglo-Sax
on 1 ace. We assume this without argu
ment, because we believe that some of our
readers will be desirous of holding us to the
i,r< Tbe Anglo-Saxon —like all great races
is of a composite origin ; and its materials
would almost seem to have bt'en carefully
selected with the view of producing a breed
of singular energy, endurance ana power.
The Saxon hardihood, the Norman fire, the
Teutonic phlegm, had long ago been moul
ded. one would deem for some great pur
pose, into one grand national stock ; and to I
this race, when it had attained the fullness !
and perfection of its strength, wat the con
quest of America entrusted.
The original colonization of this country’
by the Engli:h, and the present system of
internal colonization successfully prose
cuted within the United States from east to
west,form a striking counterpart to the Got
hic invasion ofthe Roman Empire, in the
fifth century. The one was the irruption
of barbarism upon an ancient civilization ;
the other, the triumph of civilization over
an ancient barbarism. Each was, in a
great degree, the work of the same race,
and it would truly seem that the barbarian
lias begun to pay the debt which lie has
owed to humanity since the destruction of
the Western Empire. The civilized Goths
whose mission is now to contend with and
humanize the wilderness of America, are
the descendants of those Goths who for a
time annihilated the ancient civilization of
Europe ; and the task of destruction which
they so successfully accomplished, and
which resulted, after all, in a great benefit
to the human race, differed no less in its
general nature from their present occupa
tion, than did the instruments, by which it
was effected, differ from those by which the
conquest of America is iu the course of
accomplishment.
The Roman state retained in appearance
the same gigantic proportions which be
longed to it, when it sat enthroned upon the
whole civilized world. It was a vast hut
a hollow shell ; outwardly imposing, but
inwardly rotten to the core, and with the
first stroke of the sword of Alaric, it crum
bled into dust. The Goth was but the em
bodiment of the doom which had long im
pended over the empire ofthe Caesars. lie
was but the appointed actor in the last scene
of that historic destiny which had ruled the
state since Romulus first watched the vul
ture’s flight from I’alentine.
For purpost s, inscrutable then probably,
but plain enough to every human intelli
gence at the present day, the civilization of
Europe, after having reached and passed
the highest possible point of refinement, was
for the time annihilated.’ The Goth de
stroyed, but he did not rebuild. Beneath
the foot print ofthe barbarian’s war-horse,
ihe grass withered and never revived. It
was hut a type ofthe utter exhaustion of the
soil; and after the tempest had lain waste
every vestige of the extraordinary culture
which'had, as it were, drained and impov
erished the land, it lay fallow for ages be
fore it was again susceptible of cultiva
tion.
The colonization of America was exact
ly the reverse of the picture. The race
that had destroyed, now came forward to
civilize and humanize. The Goth of the
fifth century, whose courser’s hoof crushed
every flower iu his track, reappears in the
seventeenth with his hand upon the plough
share, and cities spring up like corn blades
in every furrow which he traces through
the wilderness. His task is but just begun.
He has but entered upon a sublimcr mis
sion ; and it is to be expected that as many
centuries has elapsed before the old world
was-ripened for his destroying scythe, are
again to be told before he is to enjoy the
perfected fruits of his present labors.
REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR.
After the fleet under the command of Sir
Thomas Hardy bad been fairly beaten off
by the little band of heroes at Stonington,
(Ct.) on the fourth day of the attack, find
ing that no impression could be made on
the battery which defended the \illage;
and finding also that the militia of the ad
jacent country had assembled in such force
as would prevent the possibility of a land
ing, the Commodore withdrew his squad
ron from their inglorious attack, and mo
ving up Fisher’s Sound wtth his whole
force, anchored off “Groton Long Point,”
nearly opposite the mouth of Mystic river,
and within about a mile of the shore.
Gen. Ishain, who commanded the force
which had been collected near Stouing
ton during the four days bombardment, im
mediately on learning that the enemy had
anchored near the mouth of a river where
a large amount of property was exposed,
and where a defenceless population would
be subjected to the incursions of the ene
my, ordered the Bth regiment, then under
the command of Col. Belcher, to proceed
forthwith from their encampment near
Stonington, and take position at the mouth
jof the Mystic river. The first battalion,
consisting of five companies, arrived at
Mystic soon after the enemy had anchored.
It was commanded by a gentleman who
has since received testimonies of the regard
and confidence of his fellow-citizens. Im.
mediately after his arrival at the point to
which he had been ordered, he met with
Captain Simeon Haley and Captain Bur
rows, the former of whom had been onq.of
that little band who gained immortal honor
in defending the battery at Stonington,
and who will always be kept in grateful
remembrance by such of his fellow-citi
zens as remember the war and its incidents
—the latter, we believe also, to have been
one of that brave little company ; but of
this we are not assured. These two gen
tlemen made an arrangement with the
Commander of the detachment which re
sulted in one of the most brilliant little af
fairs of the war.
In order that the arrangement may be
understood by the readerof the present day,
it is necessary to state that during the pe
riod while the British fleet infested the wa
ters of the Sound, all communications by
means of regular coasters was cutoff, and
that flour, pork, and other heavy articles
of necessity were conveyed from place, to
place along shore, by means of a kind of
craft called “Vineyard Boats.” These
were generally very fast sailers—were’
sharp at both ends like a whale boat, with
a great breadth of beam, enabling them to
carry about twenty-five barrels burthen—
they were generally navigated by two men
only, and of course for safety, depended on
their speed alone. Many of these boats
were taken from time to time during the
war with cargoes which were very accept
ableto the blockading squadron.
Captains Haley and Burrows had such
a boat in readiness, and’ it was immediate
ly arranged between them and the Major
commanding the detachment, that they
should place on board their boat ko much
ballast as should give her the appearance
of being deeply laden, and proceed out
from the mouth of the river, as if hound
westward ; and that ifehased by a British
barge, they were to put back and run the
boat ashore at a point agreed on, just out
side the entrance of the river. This being
arranged, and the boat having started,
Captain John Barber, a brother ofthe com
mandant of the detachment, who had by
this time communicated the plan to Col.
Belcher his commanding officer, proceed
ed with thirty volunteers down towards
the place agreed upon ; keeping the move
ments of his little band concealed from the
enemy, by marching through such woods
and cornfields as could he interposed be
tween his party and the fleet, which were
little more than a mile from the shore.—
The ruse succeeded exactly as designed.
After passing out of the river, Captains
Haley and Burrows kept close in shore, 1
and made all sail to the westward, as if j
anxious to escape observation ; but, as they
expected, betbre they passed Avery’s
Point, a long black row galley shot out
from the lee of one of the ships and pulled
for them with every assurance of getting a
prize—r-our friends- instantly hauled their
wind, and seemed to make every i (fort to
get back into Mystic river, but before they
could reach it they were cut off by the
barge, and were apparently forced to
beach their boat, which they were careful
to do at a spot which Captain Barber had
indicated by setting up a little birchen
wand over the brow of a sand ridge.—
Scarcely had our two friends esconsed
themselves behind the ridge, and the keel
of the British barge grated hard on the
shore in hot pursuit, before thirty muskets
were Itvelled at the surprised crew, and
before it could be prevented by their com
mander one division had-fired. Os sixteen
British, one fell dead pierced by seven bul
lets, two were badly wounded, and the
other thirteen, with the exception of their
commander, a lieutenant or sailing master,
were floundered in the water into which
they threw themselves to avoid a tire which
came upon them so unexpectedly. The
moment the catastrophe was discovered
from the squadron, boats, fully manned,
were seen to put off to their rescue; but,
before they could arrive to the help of their
unfortunate comrades, the little company
of militiamen had manned the two boats,
and, with the killed and wounded, had,
under the pilotage of their gallant coadju
tors, placed themselves wiihin the protec
tion of tile fire of their fellow soldiers, who
now lined the beach by scores, to witness
and assist in the event.
Mr. Stewart, late British Consul for’
Connecticut. &c., a gentleman who re
tains a deep and abiding place, as well in
the affections, as in the respect bud esteem
of all who knew him, was on hoard the
Ramillies at the time. He hs?s siqce told
our informant, that he was dining with
Commodore Hardy under the awning ‘on
the quarter (icck, at the time the boat was
sent in pursuit, and that the Commodore
had watched her progress until she touch
ed the beach, when hearing the volley of
musketry, he seized a spy-glass, and gaz
ing earnestly for a moment, ho turned to
Mr. S. and remarked, “My poor fellows
are Yankicd.”
It is worthy of remark, that after this
event, no coasting boat ofthe kind alluded
to in the above sketch was attacked by the
boats of the blockading squadron, but ev
er afterward were permitted to make their
way along shore without molestation.
Scolding wives and squalling children
should be permitted to scold and squall on,
without let or hindrance. There is noth
ing that will strengthen and invigorate the
lungs more. The woman who scolds with
a hearty good will is proof against pulmo
nary complaints; and her husband, if she
have one, should rather encourage than
repress her in thus giving vent to her dis
position, as it is such a blood circulating
and health inducing exorcise of the facul
ty with which it is her good fortune to be
endowed. And the babies—those dear
little pledges—let them bawl ever so lusti
ly, ought not to be quieted with a “Lulla
by, lullaby, baby—bush then my dear,
lie still and slumber,” but allowed to
cry as long and loud as they please, as they
are doing battle with the enemy of lungs,
and if let alone, will come off conquerors.
But let not the child whine nor the “better
half” inuuer. It were far better to pinch
or prick them into a distinct and audible
utterance of their grief. It is more sinful
to fret the lungs out than the gizzard.
Curious remarks on the Bible, by a wid
ow at 65, who had nothing to do, & could
not sleep.
The Bible contains 3,560,489 letters,
810.697 words, 31,173 verses, l,lß9chap
ters, 66 books. The word “and” occurs
46,227 times ; “Lord” 1,854 ; “Reverend”
onlyonce, and that in the 111th psalm.—
The 27th verse of the 7th chapter of Ezra
contains the alphabet. The 19th chapter
of the 2d book of Kings and 37th chapter of
Isaiah are alike. The first man recorded
as buried in a coffin was Joseph, 50ih chap
ter of Genesis and 26th verso. Nowhere
but in the Ist chapter, 2d Timothy, is the
name “grandmother” mentioned. Two
particularly fine chapters to read you will
find are the 2d of Joel and the 26th of Acts.
There is no name or word of more than six
syllables in the Holy Bible.
English Paper.
The Great Missourian. —The following
extract of a letter is from a gentleman for
merly of this city, now on a tour through
the Western States, and at present in St.
Louis, from whence he writes :
“I w'ent the other night to look at the
greatest curiosity that I have ever seen.—
It is called The Great Missourian, and is
the skeleton of the largest animal ever
known. It was found about 200 miles
west of this place, in this State, by.a Ger
man. It measures to the top ofthe ribs 10
feet high, is 32 feet long, has two tusks
that are from 10 to 12 inches in diameter,
and are 16 feet apart. The head and
tusks weigh 1100 pounds. The joints of
the knee in the fore legs are inverted, so
that he bends his knee the contrary way
from any other animal. He appears to
have been web-footed, has no hooifc, hut
toes about Bor 10 inches long. 1 The own
er has computed its size ; inKioinparison to
the size of an bx here'that weighs 1000
pounds, and he is just 100 times larger
than the ox, so that he must have weighed
when alive 10.0,000 pounds, (50 tons.) I
should think He wotilil have required five
or six buffaloes for breakfast. The six
musicians, Who play at the exhibition of
the animal, sit up in his ribs.
“The Owner has been offered #20,000
cash for him. He leaves in a few days
for New Orleans, from thence to N. A T ork,
thence to Europe'." s 'Tt is a good fortune
for any six men, hut the owner will not
sell it.”— Troy Whig.
il
SUCCESSFUL FARMING.
Tiie Farmer’s Cahin -t relates an instance
of the most successful farming we have
heard of for some time. It is of an old,
practical, hard-working farmer in the neigh
borhood of Amherst, N. H. who commen
ced in the world as a day-laborer, and who
notwithstanding lie has at various times
sustained heavy pecuniary losses in the
investment of his funds, is now worth at
least one hundred thousand dollars. We
make the following extract from the article
in the Cabinet:
“This man, when thirty years of age,
by the avails of his industry added to a
small legacy, was enabled to purchase and
pay, in part, for a farm ofone hundred and
thirty acres of land, one hundred of which
was under cultivation, but in a very low
state The farm is altogether upland,
with a soil composed of loam, clay, aud
sand, in the chief of which the latter pre
ponderates, the former being least consid
erable. When h: commenced farming he
adopted a peculiar system of rotation, to
which he has implicitly adhered from that
time to the present, which is forty, and his
success is the best comment on the worth
of the''experiment. His mode was as fol
lows : having divided his farm into eight
fields of equal size, as near as possible,
three of those fields were sowed with wheat
each year, one with rye, one planted with
corn, two with clover, and one an open
fallow, on which corn had been raised the
year previous. One of the iwo clover
fields is kept for mowing, tl'ie other for pas
ture, both of which- arc ploughed as soon
after the harvest as possible, and pre
pared for wheat in the fall. All the ma
nure which is made on the farm for one
year is hauled in the spring on the field in
tended for open fallow-, which is then
ploughed, and, after one or two cross
ploughings through the summer, is also
sowed with wheat in the fall. The field on
which the rye is sown is that from which a
crop of wheat has been taken the same
year, and which had yielded three crops.
Corn is planted on the field from which
rye had been taken the year previous, the
stubbles of which are ploughed down in
the fall. Clover seed is sown early in the
spring on two of the wheat fields, those
which have been most recently manured.
By this method, each field yields three
crops of wheat, two of clover, and one of
corn, every eight years. Each field, in
the mean time, has lain an open fallow,
and received a heavy dressing of manure,
perhaps at an average of fifteen tour-horse
loads per acre. Ilis crop of wheat is sol
dom less than fifteen hundred bushels, but
often much more. His average rye crop
is about four hundred and fifty bushels,
and his corn crop annually about five hun
dred bushels—all which grain, at the pre
sent low prices, would amount to more
than two thousand dollars annually, and at
former prices to double that amount, and
his farm is withal very highly improved.”
PROFIT OF MANURE.
We understand that a respectable planter
of an adjoining district formerly planted
150 acres in cotton, and never was able to
make more than fifty bales. He determin
ed to manure: and enabled to make a trial,
he planted ten acres. From these with the
manure lie was able to make, be gathered
51 bales. A small gain, but it was a
gain. The next year he planted 130 acres
and manured a little more, with stiil a small
increase of crop. The past season he plan
ted only 120 acres, still increasing the
application of manure and made 68 bales.
He is confident that if the season had been
good, he would have made 75 bales; or
50 per cent, from merely lessening the
quantity of land planted, to enable him to
manure. His intention, is next year to
plant only 100 acres, and he will doubtless
increase his crop in much greater propor
tion than he lessens the land in cultivation.
If he would now, proceeding as cautiously
as he has done thus far, gradually intro
duce the culture of roots, or grass, or both
to enable him to enlarge his stock of cattle,
he might derive from the increased quanti
ty of manure a profit that would compen
sate him for the labor, whilst the additional
cattle would be clear gain.
Cheraw, >N. C. Gazette.
USEFUL RECIPE.
I send you below, Messrs. Editors, a re
cipe for making a composition which will
render wood entirely incombustible. It is
very simply prepared, and quite easy ■of
application, being used the same as paint
with an ordinary blush. A good coat of it
applied to the floor, under stoves, would be
an excellent precaution.
Take a quantity of water, proportioned to
the surface of wood you may wish to cover,
and add to it as much potash as can Ire dis
solved therein. When the water will dis
solve no more potash, stir into the solution,
Ist, a quantity of flour paste ofthe consist
ency of common painter’s size ; 2d, a suf
fioient quantity of pure clay to render it the
consistence ofeream.
When the clay is well mixed, apply the *’
preparation as before directed to the wood;
it will secure it from the action of both fire
and rain. In a most violent fire, wood thus
saturated, may be carbonated, but it will
never blaze.
Ii desirable, a more agreeable color can
be given to the preparation by adding a
small quantity of red or yellow ochre.
It might also be useful for you to men
tion in your paper, especially at this sea
son of high winds, that a handful or two of
sulphur thrown on to the fire when a chim
ney is burning out, will almost instanta
neously extinguish the flame.
Buffalo Commercial Advertiser.
Important, to Horsemen—a Secret worth
knowing. —The day before yesterday, we
happened to be passing >in : front of the Uni
ted States Hotel, when we observed a large
crowd attracted by an omnibus laden with
passengers, which the horses refused to
draw. The driver had tried every expedi
ent to urge on the animals—such as the
ordinary inodes of whipping, coaxing, &c.
hut all in vain, when our townsman. John
C. Montgomery, Esq. suggested the plan
of tying a string tightly round the horse’s
ear close to the head—the driver appro*
hending that Mr. M. was disposed to quiz
him, refused to make the trial, but upon
Mr. M’s. tying the twine around the
horse's ear—having requested the driver
to resume his seat and to give his horses a
loose rein, without applying the whip—it
operated like a charm, and the animals
started off without further difficulty, to the
infinite amusement and gratification of the
bystanders. Mr. M. stated to the crowd,
that he had tried the experiment more than
a hundred times, and had never known it
to fail but once.— Phil. Standard.
Coloring Marble. —The art of coloring
marble, so as to give it the richest and
most beautiful tints, has been recently car
ried to great perfection in Italy, by M.
Cit eri. A solution of nitrate of gold pen
etrates about the twelfth of an inch; it
gives a beautiful violet purple. A solu
tion of verdigris gives a green color; so
lution of dragon’s blood also penetrates
marble, giving it a beautiful red. It is
penetrated by all alcoholic tinctures of co
loring woods, such as Brazil wood, Cam
peachy, &c. The alcoholic tincture of
cochenille, mixed with a little alum, pro
duces a very bright color, which pene v
trates far into the marble, and makes it
resemble the red marble of Africa. Orpi
ment dissolved in ammonia quickly dyes
marble a yellow color, which becomes
more vivid the longer it is exposed to the
air. The solvent which causes coloring
matter to penetrate furthest into marble is
wax—Verdigris, which has been boiled
in wax, and applied to marble quite hot,
penetrates to the extent of nearly half an
inch, and produces a fine emerald.
LAW OF UFORhIA.
AN ACT to repeal an act, entitled an
aet, to establish a general system of Edu
cation by common schools, assented to the
26th day of December, 1537. Also, an
act, entitled an act, to amend an act, to
establish a general system of Education by
common schools, assented to the 29th day of
December, 1838, and also to change the
common school fund in the State of Geor
gia to that of a poor school fund, and to
provide for distributing the same.
Sec. 1. Be it enacted by the Senate and
House of Representatives of the State of Geor
gia in General Assembly met and it is hereby
enacted by the authority of the same, That
from and after the passage of this act
the fund heretofore set apart and now known
as a common school fund for the State of
Georgia, and such other funds as may be
hereafter set apart for teaching the poor
shall become and compose-a Poor School
fund for the State of Georgia.
Sec. 2. And be it further enacted by the
authority aforesaid, That the J ustices of the
Inferior Court in the several counties in
this State, or a majority of them, shall on
the first Monday of February, in the year
1841, and on the first Monday in January
in each year and every year thereafter, by
an order to he entered on their minutes, ap
point five fit and proper persons of *heir
county, to act as Commissioners ofthe Poor
School Fund in their respective counties,
and it shall be the duty Ofthe Clerk of said
court to give the commissioners notice of
their appointment in writing ten days after
the same is made, and the said Commis
sioners shall have power to fill all vacan
cies that may happen in their body by death*’
resignation, or otherwise, and such Commis.
sioners shall continue in office until their
successors are appointed and notified.
Sec. 3. And be it further enacted by the
authority aforesaid, That it shall he the duty*-
ofthe Commissioners of the Poor School
Fund to meet at the court house in their
respective counties, within fifteen days af
ter their appointment, and appoint some fit
and proper person to act as Clerk and Treas
urer of the poor School Fund, and the per
sons so appointed shall give bond and secu
rity to said commissioners and their suc
cessors of office, in such sum as they may
think sufficient, conditioned for the faithfur
performance of the duties of his said office
and appointment, and shall take an oath
faithfully and impartially to discharge tho
duties of Clerk and Treasurer of the Poor
School Fund for the county in which he i; ||
appointed, to the best of his skill and power.
And it shall be the duty of the person so
appointed to apply for, receive and pay out
