The Southern sentinel. (Columbus, Ga.) 1850-18??, April 18, 1850, Image 4

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THE FEEDING OF COTTON PLANTS. We hope that no reader of this journal will object to uniting a little science with the art of Cotton culture, as it is to be practiced in the year 1850. The first article in the Farm er’s creed should be to this effect; Improve ment is a possible thing. He should reason in this wise: A good crop of cotton is never made from nothing; and if I can supply to the roots of the needy plants such elements as they most need, to form many bolls well-filled with lint and seed, (which elements are lack ing in the soil, to some extent, perhaps to a large extent,) I may reasonably expect a more abundant harvest in autumn. All soils do not equally abound in the raw material for producing this great staple; therefore, it is consistent with sound commonsense for me to study both the natural wants of the plant which I cultivate, and the natural or artificial defects of the earth in which my crop is ex pected to grow'. With the above preliminary and brief re marks, suggestive of an important principle in agricultural science, we proceed at once to inquire, What are the least abundant elements in the soil, which are always found on the anlysis of cotton plants, and without which they cannot grow? To answer this question, we copy the analysis of cotton seeds and their lint, by Prof. Shepard, although we have published the same once before, as well as the analyses of Mr. Scemtr, of South Carolina, made in Liebig’s laboratory. “One hundred parts of cotton wool, on be ing heated in a platina crucible, lost 85,89 parts. The residuum, on being burnt under a muffle till the whole of its carbon was con sumed, lost 12,735, and left a white ash weigh ing nearly one per cent, of weight of the cot ton. Os this ash, 44 per cent, was soluble in water. Its constituents were as follou r s: Carbonate of Potash, with a trace of Soda 4-1 ;-9 Phosphate of Lime, with a trace of Magnesia,. 25.34 Carbonate.of Lime 8.97 Silica 4.12 Alumina 2.90 Chloride of Potassium, ) Sulphate of Lime, land loss, 6.23 Phosphate of Potash, ( Oxide of Iron, (a trace), J 100.00 If the reader will carefully look over the above figures, he will see that potash and lime united with carbonic, phosphoric and sulphu ric acids and chlorine, are the important min erals in cotton. They are no less indispensa ble in the leaves, stems and roots of the plant. Let us now examine the earthy, incombustible part of its seed: “One hundred parts, treated as before, lost 77.387; and the residuum, after being burnt under a muffle, left 3.986 parts of perfectly W'liite ash, the composition of which was as follows: Phosphate of Lime, with traces of Magnesia,. .61.34 Phosphate of Potash, with traces of Soda 31.73 Sulphate of Potash 2.65 Carbonate of Lime 1.60 Carbonote of Mogneeia 0.47 Chloride of Potassium 0.27 Carbonate of Potash, ) Sulphate of Lime, I and loss, 1.69 Sulphate of Magnesia, f Alumina and oxide of iron, J 100.00 The above analysis makes the quantity of ash in cotton seed larger than was found by Prof. Ure, arid one or two other chemists. All, however coincide in their statements of the elements found in the ashes examined. It will be seen that phosphates of lime and pot ash form about 93 per cent, of the earthly portion of cotton seed; and as one. ought to gather some 2,000 pounds of seed cotton from an acre, the supply of these phosphates is likely to be too small for so large a crop.— The fact is generally known that the amount of phosphate of lime in all hones is very large; and that it is also abundant in the dung of all animals, and especially of such as eat seeds or flesh, including man, beasts and birds. In all countries whore seeds, such as those of wheat, maize and other plants are largely cul tivated, (except in the United States,) the ex crements of all grass and grain consuming animals are carefully husbanded, and fed to growing crops. All bones, wood-ashes (which abound in salts of potash,) and the contents of the vaults of privies, are made to tell in fa vor of the harvest. If cotton seed will form manure, most certainly manure will form cot ron seed. If we could purchase 100 bushels of good unwashed or dripped wood-ashes for 815, to apply on 40 acres of cotton, immedi ately after it was “chopped out,” as a top dressing around the young plants, (not upon their leaves, nor against their tender stems,) we should not nesitate to pay the money, and haul the ashes five miles, if necessary. If we were so unfortunate as to have a horse, mule, cow, hog, sheep or dog, die, we should calcu late with confidence the pounds of good cot ton which its bones and flesh would make, as food for cotton plants. To lose all the ma nure of an animal while living, and the fertil izers in its carcass when dead, is the height of folly. The most economical way to treat bones, on a farm, is to break them tolerably fine with an old axe or hammer, and then boil them to a powder in strong lye, as in making soft soap. Mix the lye and bones with welt dried leached ashes or loam, and place the fertilizers near the roots of cotton, corn, or wheat plants, and see how liberally a bountiful Providence will reward you for studying and obeying the laws of Nature. If any reader can procure oyster-shell lime (which is best,) or other lime to mix with his ashes or swamp-muck, his forest-leaves or other decaying vegetables, lot him fail to try it fairly before he condemns this calcareous ‘ manure. A thousand grains of the subsoil of our friend, near Memphis, gave us nearly a grain of pure sulphate of lime, (plaster, or gypsum,) in a direct search of it. By all means, let the cotton-groAver help the roots of his crops to penetrate the subsoil, in search of their mineral food. Do try one acre, with deep plowing, ashing and liming. All experience and all science go to prove that one acre of deep, mclloAA-, rich lnnd. Transform the lat ter worthless article into the former, if you are to cultivate it at all. Do not wear out your people, your mules, your patience and y our purse, in plowing, hoeing and travelling over, all year lifetime, a thousand acres of sterile soil. Such a workshop for the manu facture of cotton, Avhere the raw material is so scarce and expensive, is too large. Con centrate your means and mechanical force on a smaller surface, and not waste so many steps in a year, and so many rapidly-docav ing fence-rails. The needless travel, on some plantations, is equal to the loss of two bags of cotton to the hand! All this waste of time Avould be avoided, if th°, science and art ol feeding plants were well and universally understood. Raise renovating crops, and search constantly for fertilizers, and stop every leak by which they are lost In recalling to mind the many plantations AA-hich Ave have visited, in South Carolina and Georgia, nothing has left so enduring an im pression as the skillful manner in which hill side ditches vrere constructed, to prevent the washing of the surface soil. In this matter, the planters of those States have excelled alf that Ave have Avitnessed elseAvhero in the Union, and aa-c have seen most of it The saving ol the soil, is simply retaining upon the surlace of the earth the most valuable food of -cultivated plants. There are still a great many farms which need proper ditch ing; and to help a little in this direction in our next report to Congress, those gentlemen who have been pioneers in this important ef fort to save the cotton lands of the South from - desolation, by setting good examples on their own plantations, shall have the credit which is so justiv their due. We go strongly for the principle of teaching by example, as well as precept. Much of the improvements made in Western New York, have been effected in this way. An admirably arranged and well managed farm, is worth ten times more to the yublic at large, than to its owner. It is like a city upon a hill, which cannot be hid. Yesterday, we walked six miles in the sub urbs of M ashi lgton, and were particularly surprised to see so many performing expen sive and unnecessary labor with their com post-heaps and Bommer-vats. Now, all this toil is a quasi system of cooking food for plants, is bad economy, and should be avoid ed. Concentrated fertilizers, those no more bulky than guano, poudrette, gypsum, bone dust, and the like, are the things to be fed to growing crops, and when they are growing. It is nonsense to feed a pig with corn enough the day it is born to last its lifetime, and fat it into the baagain. We are confident that the cost of feeding plants may be redueed one-half, and yet the fertilizers applied to the crop shall do twice the good realized from the trash now used to promote the growth of vegetation. Make the soil right physically, by deep and thorough tillage, and the lacking chemical elements may be cheaply obtained, for a little will answer. Valuable Wash for Trees.— The prac tice of washing, or rather, we should say, of coating fruit trees with whitewash, so preva lent some few years since in many sections, appears now to have but few advocates. In stead of lime wash, most cultivators of fruit apply a wash formed of common wood ashes, or potash and water, which they apply in a very diluted state v ith cloths instead of brush es. This application has a tendency to re move moss, imparts a healthy appearance to the cutis, and destroys the animaleulae which locate on, and adhere to, the epidermis of most lVuitiferous trees in May and June. Whitewash, as it obstructs the pores of the bark, is an application rarely productive of benefit; it may remove moss, and dislodge insects, but the bad consequence insepara ble from its mechanical action on the circula tory and absorbent systems, far more than counterbalances all the good it is likely to produce. A tree that has become coated with moss, can, in no way, be more speedily and effectually renovated, than by a careful removal of the obnoxious fungi, and applica tion of soap-suds. Trimming at a proper season, with judicious manuring, rarely fails of effecting the result desired. GUANO vs. WORN-OUT LAND. In the spring of 1848, I made an experi ment with guano on worn-out land, and the result induced me to try it again the follow ing year on a larger scale. So, last spring, I broke up about 25 acres, most of which had notbeen plowed for nine years, marked it out both ways, and scattered over the hills, about seventy pounds of Peruvian guano per thou sand hills, afterwards the field over with a small covering harrow where the ground was clear. But where the sedge sward was too rough for the harrow, I covered the guano with a hoe. I then dropped the corn in the hills, covered it the usual way, and it came up well. By accident, one row between two others was left without guano, and, without any prejudice or partiality was cultivated in other respects the same as the rest of the field. Although the land was exceedingly poor, the corn had a healthy and vigorous look all the season, and filled out well, wherever the guano was applied, the fodder being at least four fold more than that of the unmanured row. At harvest, I weighed and measured the corn of 100 hills in the row which had no guano, and of 100 hills in the next row to it, the result of which was as follows: — 100 hills without guano produced 10 lbs, of inferior corn, equal to 4 bushels per acre, valued at 82 00 100 hills with guano produced 41 lbs. of good corn, well filled, equal to 16 bush els, valued at $3 00 Cost af 70 lbs. of guano per acre, at the rate of 70 lbs. per thousand hills, 83 85 Thus it will be seen that the profits attend ing the guano is 82 15 cents per acre more than on the land where no manure was ap plied. C. Kent County , Del. Feb. 1850. Gotton. A late number of the London Times says, it is we tear, only too probable that the crop of American Cotton will this year be scant enough to increase the price of that most necessary in gredient in the manufacturing prosperity of this country; and, although the acrual deficiency may possibly be less than is feared, yet the results will doubtless supply a sufficient realization of the contingencies which have often been des cribed as involved in our present system of ac tion. Almost all that is said respecting the im portance of our Cotton imports may be literally credited, for so vast are the interests concerned, it is scarcely possible to overstate them. Near ly as much depends upon the C’otton crop as the potatoe crop; and a failure in the former admits, besides, of no corresdonding compensation from private charity or public bcneA'olence. Yet, speaking generally, it may be said, that for the Avholc of this staple import of England, Ave are helplessly dependent on two provinces of a for eign State. It is this peculiar limitation of the produce which makes the case so anomalous and so full of peril. Were cotton less an arti cle of the A’ery first necessity to English com merce, or were it grown, like corn in every coun try of the globe, the arguments Avhich haA-e been taken to regulate other imports would be equal ly applicable here. But the difference is this, that while our importations of coin could be af fected only by a coincidence ofso many and such extraordinary conditions as to be almost beyond the calculations of probability, our importations of cotton are liable, as now shown to be influ enced by occurrences of the A ery commonest likelihood. A change of policy, a false impulse gtA T en to speculation, resolutions of hostility, or Avhat many occur in any season, and must needs occur in some—a short crop: each and any of these causes may imperil the daily bread of four miiions of our population, and deeply afl'ect the financial prosperity of the entire empire. The case will appear still more, extraordinary Avhen it is remembered on Avhat wholly artificial conditions its existence depends. If cotton, like spices, could be only produced in certain limited districts of certain latitudes, there Avould be no aid for us but prudence and patience. As the facts stand, however, the present limitation of the produce is not entirely accidental, but is due to none but ourselves! There Avas a time Avhen India did produce cotton; and there Avas a time, very recently, Avhen Georgia and Carolina did not. Men still living can recollect the first im portation of American cotton into Li\-erpool market, and the extent of present trade is the Avork of scarcely more than one generation.— Cotton is not indigenous nor peculiar to the Georgia uplands. Its cultivation Avas introduc ed in consequence of our own demands, and perfected by the unrivalled enterprise and ener ly of American planter working under such stimulous. Gradually, this cotton has obtained almost the monopoly of cur market; nor would there be anything objectionable in such a result, due, as it is, to be natural operations of trade, if it were not for the huge disproportions between our own particular demands and this j solitary source of supply. Continental coun- j tries take a little cotton; the United States them selves take a quantity someweat larger, and which appears likely to be increased: the great bulk comes to Liverpool. But for all the aggre gate consumption, there still remains practically | nothing but the crop of these still two provinces, : which thus, in the best of years, is scanty, in bad seasons ruinously deficient, and. at all times, a subject of speculation and source of anxious and unavoidable misgiving. TURPENTINE BUSINESS IN GEORGIA. - The Savannah Republican says: We pre presume the extent to which the manufacture of turpentine is being developed in this State, is not known to our readers. If its produc tion goes on increasing for a few years lon ger as rapidlv as during the last year or two past, it will not take long to transfer the gen eral head quarters of the turpentine trade from North Carolina to Georgia. So far as we are informed, most of those who entered upon the business ol producing turpentine in Georgia, have had as good success as could reasonably be expected. Such, however, has not been the case in Barnwell district, in South Carolina. The planters in that dis trict seem to have been wrongly instructed in the outset, which circumstance, together with the advance in cotton, has induced them generally to give over the production for the present. We are indebted to the kindness ol a mer cantile friend, who has procured for us the statistics which ought to be produced in Georgia, whose entire product will amount to not less than twenty thousand eight hun dred barrels! These gentlemen are many of them personally known to us; nearly all of them our subscribers, and the information may be relied on as accurate. To this must be added the production of seven or eight more persons, who have more recently be gun the business in Georgia and ot two in Florida, whose names we have, but it is out of our power at present to indicate the prob able result of their labor. The same remark | is applicable to the article received by the ‘ river. We are satisfied, however, that the whole product of Georgia and Florida dur ing the season ending on the Ist of Septem ber, will reach the figure of 30,000 barrels, of which we put down 25,000 to Georgia. This will represent a value of some eighty thousand dollars to bedivided among a mod erate number of producers. At the same time it is worthy of a remark, that the distillation of crude turpentine is rapidly increasing at various points. Includ ing the large distillery in this city, under the charge of Young & Gamill, we count no less than ten distilleries in Georgia, either actually erected or ordered,and on their way to their destination. Manufacturing at the South. Within a few years, a most important enter prise has been developing itself, in the form of manufactories established at various points in the Southern States. The enterprise began in Georgia some six years ago, and has spread to other States, and has already become a fixed and profitable fact. The manufactories thus far, are from the working of cotton, the planters having come to the conclusion that, with the raw material at hand, and splendid water priv ileges, cheap labor, and every other facility lor fabricating it, they may as well save the costot exporting their cotton to Lowell or Liverpool, the expense of packing it, and the freightage and various profits upon manufactured cotton re ceived in exchange. They have come to see in fact, that if their raw material can set up half a dozen trades and agencies before it returns to them in cotton cloth, they had better do the man ufacturing themselves, and take to themselves the profits now absorbed by others. By manufac turing at home, they further save the otherwise refuse cotton, not worth shipment, but equal to the manufacture of all the coarse jeans, or Negro cloths consumed by the South, and all the bag ging used tor shipment. It is only surprising that the capitol and en terprise of the planters have not long before been turned to home manufacture, not only of what they consume themselves, but to supply other markets. There is no good reason why cotton cannot be wrought into every fabrick of which it is susceptible as cheaply in Georgia or Ala bama, as in Massachusetts or Connecticut. We believe it can be manufactured at a cheaper rate on the soil where it is grown, even if the foreign manufacturing market was at. no expense for j transportation, etc., because for factory purposes, j the natural facilities of the cotton growing States j are greatest. The South has labored under a serious disadvantage in not being able to turn j its great staple into the market in both forms, j raw and fabricated, failing thereby to derive a j legitimate profit on the raw material, because j forced to pay a greate'r profit on the manufac- | tured article. The factories, so far as establish- j ed in the South, hve been entirely successful, | and their increase will be proportionate to the ; awakening of the planters to their true inter- , ests. And there is another reason, than the pocket ing of the profits of manufacture, that will more and more stimulate the South to factory enter prise. The English GoA-ernment and English foctors, are bending every energy to the culture of cotton Bombay and other Eeast India provin ces, both to render English looms independent of American cotton fields, and to secure cotton at loAver prices. If they succeed, and the expi ration of the East India Company’s Charter, in 1853, Avill open a field for a powerful trial, the South will be thrown upon New England for its principal cotton market. Harfing but one cer tain customer, it Avill be forced to sell its cotton at reduced rates —in fact it will be at the mercy of that customer. The establishment of a A’igor ous factory system by the South will make it in dependent of the market for the raw material.— If it cannot sell cotton to Old England, it can fabricate it and enter the general market of the world as a competitor for the sale of calicoes, sheetings and shirtings. Growing the raw ma terial, Avith cheap labor and every facility in hand for manufacturing, it ma carry the whip in its own hand, and beyond saving profits, make them. And the South should not confine its manufactures to cotton, but as rapidly as possi ble establish them for general purposes.— Y. Sun. The Oyster Trade.— FeAv people ha\-e any idea of the immensity of the oyster business done in the United States. The Chesapeake and Delaware bay oysters go all over the Avorld, and Ave learn, from a late number of the “Balti more Sun,” that one establishment in that city, during the oyeter season, keeps twenty-five men constantly opening the shells, and they sometime * open sh-e hundred gallons a day, Avhich are all designed for exportation. The oysters are put up in cans, in their OAvn liquor, Avhich are made air-tight and hermetrically sealed; they are war ranted to keep fresh in any climate. Fi\'e men are kept constantly employed in making the cans. The oysters are sent principally to the Western States, but considerable quantities are sent to the West Indies, South America, and some haA-e been eA*en sent to China. On Satur day Aveek, the first day of the oyster-taking sea son in Fairhaven river, si:? or seven boats Avere ready for operation with the sunrise. The bell in the brick church Avas the signal to begin, and soon all Avas stir and commotion amongst men and shell-fish. During the day between thirty and forty thousand bushels of oysters hav ing been undisturbed for two years, Avere unu sually large and A'ery fine. Some boats took from seventy-five to one hundred bushels each, and some few went much aboA r e this quantity. Transient oystermen sold their products at the bank of the river for twenty and twenty-five cents per bushel, while those who make “oystering” a regular business, preferred to hold on for a speculation. Pitcairn's Island. The inhabitants of Pitcarian’s Island are industrious, especially the females. They all rise with the sun, and retire to rest very early. The men are occupied chiefly in cultivating the ground and carpentering ; several of the young men are good at cabinet-work and as blacksmiths. From August to November they have plenty of employment, digging yams, also planting them, with bananas and potatoes, weeding, ect.; and, when not busi ly emsloved, they generally meet in the morn ing, and, if the weather is favorable, go fish ing; while on Saturdays* they go out hunt ing for the Sunday’s dinner. The Sabbath is still kept most strictly. The females usu ally assist in the cultivation of the ground, preparing thatch for the houses, and, in fact, are more employed than the men; they are generally’ very strong, many of them being able to carry a barrel of potatoes down to the landing-place, the path to which is very rugged and steep, and in the rainy season very difficult to ascend or descend. The food of the inhabitants is chiefly yams and potatoes, animal food two or three times a week. Fish is becoming scarce. Bedclothes are generally manufactured by the females from a species of mulberry. Wearing appa rel they obtain from the whale ships, in ex change for the produce of the Island. Cot ton cloth is much wanted, and amongst the other scarce articles are blankets, wollens, and soap. The jurisprudence of this primi tive community is exceedingly simple. On the first day of each year a chief magistrate and counsellor are elected ; all persons, male and female, over sixteen years of age, being voters. The chief magistrate then chooses his counsellor or secretary'. His duty is to convene meetings, and to preside over courts assembled to settle disputes. These, after the hearing of each side, are referred to a jury of five persons, who return a regular verdict. In criminal cases, the punishments are either labor or fines. If in civil disputes the decis ion of the jury is not satisfactory to both parties, they are altowed to appeal to the commander of the first of her majesty’s ships of war which may touch at the island. A reference made to Captain Beechy while there, less on a judicial matter than on a point of concience, is a touching instance of the scrupulous regard these people have for a vow, even when inconsiderately made: — wives, it may be imagined, are very scarce, as the same restrictions with regard to rela tionship exist as in England. George Adams, son of the patriarch, in his early days, had fallen in love with Pally Young, a girl a little older than himself; but Polly', probably’ at that time liking someone else, and being at the age when young ladies’ expectations are at the highest, had incautiously said she “nev er would” give her hand to George Adams. He, nevertheless, indulged a hope that she would one day relent, and to this end was unremitting in his endeavors to please her. In this expectation he was not mistaken; his constancy and attentions as he grew into manhood, his handsome form, softened Pol ly’s heart into a regard for him, and had nothing passed before, she would willingly have gived him her hand. But the vow of her youth was not to be got over, and the love-sick couple languished on from day to day, victims of the folly of early resolutions. The weighty case war referred for Captain Beechy’s consideration; and the fears of the party were in some measure relieved by the result, which was, that it would be much bet ter to marry than to continue unhappy, in consequence of a hasty determination made before the judgment was matured. They could not, however, be prevailed on to yield to this decision, and the blossom left the un married. Love, however, eventually proved too strong for overwrought principles; and a letter from Pitcarian’s Island, dated 19th Morch, 1830, stated that George Adams was married to Polly Young, and had two sons. I Thu Mysterious Rapping. —lt is truly sickening to see the amount of excitement just now existing in community, upon the subject of the Rochester knocking. People who are entitled to be considered sensible, and who would be very much offended if ac cused of believing in Salsm witchcraft, or the Flying Dutchman, or the Morman miracles, do not hesitate to give their minds up to the serious consideration of this stupid and sallow hoax, and with open ears listen to, and with wonder recount the mysterious doings of the spirit,, world, as evinced in kicking over stools and pulling hair. Without for a moment looking among natural causes for these ef fects, they suffer their love of the marvellous to carry them away into the realms of the su pernatural, just as an old lady will sometimes search all over the house for the spectacles which she carries safely on her nose. Probably there is not one in fifty of those good citizens, now engaged in making them selves positively unhappy by pondering over the performances of the Rochester charlatans, but have witnessed the clever tricks of con juring showmen, who have this advantage over their Rochester rivals, that they seldom fail; but no one ever thought of ascribing the doings of Blitz or Alexander to “spirits,” though ten times more inscrutable than the ghostly capers in our siater city. But we had a story to tell, which we assure our read ers is true, if the word of a gentleman who relates it to us in all sincerity is worth any r thing. A young man called, a day or two since, upon the ladies in whose keeping are the Ro chester spirits. His bearing was sad, and his voice was tremulous with emotion. Sor row was in his countenance, and a weed was in his hat. He sighed as he took a seat, and the bystanders pitied him as they saw him draw forth a spotless handkerchief and wipe away a tear that had gathered in his eye. After a few moments of silence he took one of the ladies aside, and requested, if consist ent, to be put in communication with the spiritual essence of his mother—and here he wiped his radidly and sobbed. A period of quiet elapsed and a knock was heard, signifying that the desired correspond ence could be had, and with a hesitating voice the young man commenced question ing the invisible one. “How long had I gone before you died ?” A length of time was stated. . “Where are you now, mother?—are you happy?” The knocking indicated that the spirit was at rest “Are those of your friends who have gone before with you ?” They were, said the knocking. “Then you can recognize them perfectly ?” The noise certified the affirmative. “Can you see me at all times when you wish?” The raps proclaimed the perpetual clear ness of the shake’s vision, in that respect The gentleman seemed relieved, and the spectators stood, overwhelmed with wonder. Taking his hat, the mourner rose, thanked the ladies, and, as he stood in the door, quietly remarked— “l have been very much entertained, and doubt my mother herself wiil be, for I left her at home, not half an hour since, basting a turkey for dinner !”—Buffalo Couvkr. Popping the Question. “Why don’t you get married?” said a boun cing girl, with laughing eye, to a smooth faced, innocent^okirig&outh. “Well, I—^saK^theGrßuth, stopping short with a gasp, -QxecWiis eyes on vacancy with a fWli^Lexpression. “Well, go cross question er, almost inclining nearer to the young man. “Now just tell me right out—you what?” “Why I—pshaw, I don’t know.’’ “’i ou do, I say you do: now come, I want to know. “Oh, I can’t tell you—” “I sav you can. Why, you know I’ll nev er mention it; and you may tell me of course, you know, for haven’t I always been your friend?” * J “Well, you have, I know,” replied the be leaguered youth. t “And I’m sure, I always thought you liked me,” went on the maiden in tender and mel low accents. “Oh, I do, upon my word—yes, indeed I do, Maria,” said the unsophisticated youth, very warmly, and he found that Maria had unconsciously placed her hand in his open palm. Then there was a silence. “And then—well ?” said Maria dropping i her eyes on the ground. “Eh! Oh, well!” said John, dropping his ! eyes and Maria’s hand at the same time. “I'm pretty sure you love somebody; in fact,” said Maria, assuming a tone of railery, “I know you’re in love, and John, why don’t you tell me all abont it at once?” “Well, I—” “Well, I—oh, you silly mortal, what is | there to be afraid of?” | “Oh, it ain’t because lam afraid of any , thing at all; and I’ll—well now, Maria, I ! will tell you.” “Well, now, John.” ; ” I “Eh ?” i “I—” | “Yes.” “I am in love! now don’t tell; you won’t, I will you ?” said John, violently seizing Maria i by the hand, and looking at her face with a ■ most imploring expression. “Why of course, you know, John, I’ll nev | er breathe a word about it; you know I won’t, don’t you, John?” This was spoken in a low whisper, and the cherry lips of Maria were so near John’s ear when she spoke, that when he turned his head to look at her, there might have occurred a dangerous collision. “Well, Maria,” said John, “I’ve told you now, and so you shall know all about it,* I have always thought a great deal of you, and,” “Yes, John.” “I’m sure you would do anything for me j that you could.” “Yes, John, you kxow that I would.” | “Well, I thought so, and you don’t know j how I’ve wanted to talk to you about it.” “I declare, John, I—you might have told me long since if you wanted to, for I never was angry with you in my life.” “No, you wasn’t; and I have often felt a great mind to, but—” “It is not too late now, you know, John.” “Well, Maria, do you think I’m too young to get married ?” “Indeed I do not, John, and I know it would be a good thing for you too, for every body says the sooner young people get mar ried the better, when they are prudent and in clined to love one another.” “That’s just what I think ; and now, Ma j ria, I do want to get married, and if you’ll—” “Indeed I will, John, for you know I was j always partial to you, and I’ve said so often i behind your back.” “Well, I declare, I have all along thought ! you M ould object, and that’s the reason I’ve , been afraid to ask you.” “Object! no, I'll die first; so you may ask of me anything you t -lease.” j “And you’ll grant it 1” : “I wili.” | “Then, Maria, I want you to pop the ques i tion for me to Mary Sullivan, for—” i “What?” “Eh ?” “Do you love Mary Sullivan “Oh, indeed I do, with all my heart.” “I always thought you were a fool.” “Eh ?” “I say you are a fool, and you had better go home; your mother wants you; Oh, you —you—you Stupid!” exclaimed the morti fied Maria, in a shrill treble, and she gave poor John such a slay on the cheek that it sent him reeling. Unhappy Maria—“ The course of true love never did run smooth.” [From theN. Y. Spirit of the Times.] “NOT QUITE THE CHEESE.” A STRONG SKETCH. On entering my room a few evenings since, I found a large package lying on my table, and tearing off the wrapper I found it was ! Vol. 19th ol the “Spirit,” fresh from the bin dery. Opening it, I commenced carelessly turning over the leaves, when my eyes fell on the sentence above, “Not quite the Cheese.” Now, what the deuce gave rise to that say ing ? thought I as the words recalled to mem ory a scene which was rather of a cheesey nature, and as it made rather a strong impres sion on a sensitive organ, i did not easily forget it. Some years since I was employed as ware house clerk in a large shipping house in New Orleans, and while in that capacity, I came across something that wasn’t “quite the ; cheese,” as the sequel will testify. One day a vessel came in, consigned to the house, having on board a large lot of cheese from New York; during the voyage some of them had become damaged by bilge water, (the ship having proved leaky,) conse quently the owners refused to receive it, as it was not as the bills of lading said, “Delivered in good order and well conditioned;” they were, therefore, sent to the consignees of the ship, to be stored until the case could be ad justed. I discovered a few days afterwards that, as to perfume, they were decidedly too fragrant to remain in the warehouse in June, and reported the same to the Concern, from whom I received orders to have them over hauled, and send all that were passable to Beard & Calhoun’s Auction Mart, (then in the old Camp-street Theatre,) to be disposed ot for the benefit of the underwriters; and the rest to the swamp. I got a gang of black boys to work on them, and when they stirred them up, “be the bones of Moll Kelly’s quart mug! but the smell was illigant, intirely.” I kept a respectable distance, believe me, for strong nigger and strong cheese, on a hot June day, just bangs all common essences, including a certain varmint we read about Presently the boys turned out an immense fellow about 3 feet C “across the stump,” from which the box had rotted off; in the centre a space of about ten inches was. very much decayed, and appeared to be abont the consistency of mush, of a bluish tint, which was caused by the bilge water. The boys had just set it up on its edge on a bale of gun ny bags, when I noticed over the way a big darkey (then on sale at S. B.’s,j from Charleston, S. C. who was notorious for his butting propensities, having given most of the niggers in the vicinity a taste of his quali ty in that line. I had seen him and another fellow the night previous, practising; they would stand, one on each side of a hydrant some ten yards distant, and run at each other with their heads lowered, and clapping their hands on the hydrant, they would butt like veteran rains. A thought struck me that I might cure him of his bragging and butting, and have some sport also, so 1 told the boys to keep dark, (which, by the way, caused very little exer tion to them, being all niggers,) and I called “Cld Jake” over. “They tell me you are a great fellow for butting Jake?” “I is some, Massa, dats a sac—l done butt de wool ’tirelv ors old Pete’s head last night, and Massa Nichols was gwine to gib me goss! I kin jiss bang de head ors ob any nig ger in dese parts, myself—l kin.” “Well, Jake, I’ve got a little job in that line for you when you haven’t anything else to do.” “I’s on han for all dem kin of jobs, myself —I is.” “Well, you see that large cheese back there ?” “I doesdat! I does, myself.” “Now if you can butt a dent in it, you shall have it.” “Golly, Massa, you foolin’ dis nigger!” “No, I’m not, Jake—just try me.” “Wot! you gib me de hull ob dat cheese ’f I butt a dent in urn ?” “Yes.” “De Lor! I’ll burst *im wide open, I will, myself. Jess stan back dar, you Orleans niggers, and clar de track for ole Sous Car lina, case I’se a comin, myself-—I is.” And Old Jake started back some fifty feet, and went at it at a good quick run, and the next instant I heard a dull, heavy sound, a kind of squash, and Old Jake’s head disap peared from sight, with the top just visible on the other cide, as he arose with his new-fash ioned necklace, the soft rotten cheese oozing down all around him as it settled down, so that just bis eyes were visible. From the centre of it Jake’s voice was scarcely audi ble and half smothered, as he vainly tried to remove the immense cheese. “O-o-o-o! er de Lor! Mas—took uni ors! O-o-o-o! bress de Lor! Lif um up! Gor a mity! I ” Meanwhile I was nearly dead myself, hav ing laid back on a cotton bale, holding my self together to keep from bursting, while the boys stood round Old Jake, paying him off. “De Lor! how de nigger’s breff smell! You doesn’t clean your teeth, Old Jake.” “I say! you didn’t make more dan four times dat han, did you, ole boss?” “Well, you is a nasty nigger, das a sac!” “Well you is de biggest kine of Welsh Rabbit, you is,” “Whar you git your har greese?” and thus the boys run old Jake—now half smoth ered—until I took compassion on him, and told them to take it off. Jake didn’t stay to claim his prize, but put out, growling— “Gor amity! I done got sole dat time. I’se a case ob yaller-feber—l is, myself.” Old Jake was never known to do any but ting in the vicinity after that, and I am still of the opinion that it was “Not quite the cheese .” “Little ’Un.” Island of Jamaica. This beautiful Island, w ith a salubrious | climate, and a soil fruitful beyond descrip | tion, is going rapidly to decay. Its magnifi j cent sugar and coffee plantations are over run!! with foul weed, the rank Guinea grass is growing in the streets of its once popu lous and busy towns, its wealthy, luxurious and hospitable inhabitants are reduced to poverty and want, and the evidences of de cay and industrial prostration, are stamped upon all animate and inanimate nature; the once teeming fields and the once prosperous cultivators, hear equally the proof of the hea vy pressure of misfortune and misrule, There is no spot on this fair earth superior to Jamaica in natural wealth and spontane ous productiveness. The land rarely if ever needs manuring, and such a thing as an abandonment of of an estate because of ex haustion was never known. The editor of the New York Evening Post, who has visited the Island, describes it as a terrestrial paradise, a gem of the ocean, where nature has done every thing, but the policy of man has marred the fair work, and is rapidly making it a barren and desolate waste—the “land of the olive and vine, Where all save the spirit of man is divine.” The Island comprises about 4,000,000 acres of land, the- greater part of which is susceptible of the highest cultivation; and yet, not over 500,000 acres have ever been improved and appropriated. As an evidence of its productiveness, Mr. Bryant states the fact, that sugar ratoons there, on most plan tations three or four times. The fruits of the Island are of the greatest variety and abundace, most of them growing spontaneously, or requiring very little cul ture. Those which grow iif the greatest pro fusion, are the pine-apple, shadduek, orange, pomegranite, fig, grenedillo, cashaw, apple, banana, star apple, chirimya, tamarind, co coa-nut, olive, date, plantain, mulberry, akee, jack fruit, bread fruit, every variety of mel ons, grapes, pears, plumbs, mangoes, dec. Vegetables are easy of cultivation. The most common are potatoes, yams, cassava, : peas and beans of every variety, all the com j mon table vegetables of the United States, | ocra, choco, calalue, and a curious variety |of salads. Maize and Indian corn grow lux ! uriently. The Island also abounds in dye-stuffs, j drugs and spices of the greatest value. To ; these may be added the aloe, cochineal, li : quorice, spikenard, castor-oil nut, vanilla, and I peppers of every variety, arrow root, ipieae uana, jalap, cassia, senna, and many others. The forests of Jamaica abounds with the rarest cabinet woods, in wonderful variety, and of the choicest and most valuable qual ities. The mineral wealth of the Island, though only partially explored, is doubtless very great. The copper mines is said not to be inferior in richness to any in the world, and very extensive coal beds have been discover ed. And yet, notwithstanding all these ad vantages, and the profusion with which na ture has so munificently favored this lovelv spot, prostration, abject want, and ruin meet the eye on every side. It seems from reliable statistical informa tion, that since 1832, out of six hundred and fifty-three sugar estates then in cultivation, more than one hundred and fifty have been abandoned and broken up. This has thrown out of cultivation over 200,000 acres of rich land, which,, in 1835, gave employment to about 30,000 laborers, and yielded over 15- 000 hhds. of sugary and over 6,000 punch* eons of rum.- During the same period, over five hundred coffee plantations have been abandoned, and their works broken up. This threw out ol cultivation over 200,000 acres more of land, which in 1832, required the labor of over 30,000 men. It further appears from official returns, that during the last three years, the Island has exported less than half the sugar, rum or gin’ ger; less than one-third the coffee, less than one-tenth the molasses, and nearly two mil lion of pounds less of pimento than during the three years which preceded the emanci pation act. We give a few facts from the experience o( Mr. Bryant, which go to show how, in the midst of plenty and the most unlimited pro fusion, this beautiful and fertile island has fallen in hopeless prostration and ruin. The Spring Valley estate, in the parisli of St. Mary’s, embracing 1,244 acres, had been* sold once for £IB,OOO sterling. In 1842, it was abandoned, and in 1845, the freehold 1 / including work, machinery, plantation uten sils, and a water ower, was sold for £IOOO.- The Tremelos estate of 1450 acres, onc6* worth £68,265 sterling, has been since sole i for £8,400, and would not now bring half that sum. The Golden Valley sugar estate/ containing about 1200 acres, was sold irt 1846 for £620, including machinery ond* works. The Caen-wood sugar eestate, which once’ cost £IB,OOO, was offered by its preseMi owner, but found no purchasers, at £1,500, and its cultivation has been abandoned, The overseer of Friendship Valley estate used to receive a salary of £l2O per annum for his services; he has been offered the whole estate, within three years, for £l2O. Fair Prospect estate which used to yield 500 hhds. of sugar, and was valued at £4O - was sold in 1841 for £4OOO, and now would not bring any thing like that sum. Ginger Hall, which used to yield £1,200 sterling per annum, has since been for £l - Bunker Hill estate, which had been mort gaged for £30,000! was last sold for£2sooo. A sugar estate lying in the parish of St. Thomas, in the East, embracing 1000 acres of land, with a good dwelling house, works, machinery, copper stills, and other apprppri ate fixtures, was put up at auction in 1547, in Kingston, and sold for £G2O. Provision lands about the Rio Grande riv er, which had never been opened, and which were exceedingly productive, have been sold for one dollar per acre. Mr. Bryant states, upon the authority of the Governor, Sir Charles Grey, that there was ten thousand acres of land, lying alto gether, which could now be bought for £l -or abont fifty cents an acre. What is the cause of this great change ? What has produced this immense prostration of the productive power of this highly favored Isl and, where climate and soil contribute, to an extent hardly any where known, so much of the facility of accumulation ? The an swer is plain and convincing. No one doubts the cause, and not even the wildest and most zealous fanatic pretends to gainsay it; the emancipation act passed by the British Par liament in 1833, abolishing slavery, is the sole and only cause.— N. O. Bulletin. THE INSANE ORATOR. An intelligent looking and well-dressed ! Irishman went into Recorder Genoi’s court j room, yesterday, and begged the attention i his honor for a few moments. The Re i eorder, of course, granted the request of I the unknown, and asked him for his state | merit. j With a patronizing bow, the stranger as cended the steps which led to the Record er’s desk, and commenced one of the most S wonderful speeches that was ever deliver | ed. From his lips the wild ravings of in ; sanity would occasionally fall, and his eye would kindle with the \yild fires of the mani ac. Again the triumphs of intellect would j appear; and, in a moment, the raving mad man would he converted into the poet, the ; statesman or the philosopher. He laughed I to scorn the civic legislation which makes | mockery ol its own ordinances; and in this connection, he instanced the hall-rooms of j the Third Municipality—to which ordinan j cos are cobwebs. He animadverted on the ! triune government of the city—its petty ri ; valries—its mischievous enactments—its ‘■ reckless policy; and, when on these .subjects, | the unknown appeared to have a “method in | this madness.” After treating on these sub- I jects at length, the orator was again lost i in the madman. The officers of the court., at this, under. | took to confine the strange intruder, but he shook them off’, with as much ease, ap | parently, as dew-drops are shaken from the I lion’s mane. Rising then in his frantic mood, ■ he uttered blasphemies the most revolting. ; Besides, he governed, he said, all the fleets the sea, and the armies of the earth; the stars of heaven were the lighted lamps of his palace home, and angels the fleet messen gers which waited on his will. The devils in hell—they too were under his'subjection, and with ropes of sand he could bind them at his bidding, or send them abroad, on the four winds, as ministers of vengeance. After this, he told a disjointed tale of “mur der most foul,” about which, he said, the Recorder would have to accompany him to Washington, to lay the matter before Con gress, as the sovereign tribunal of the na | tion; and it was only by promising to go. with him, that the Recorder could quiet the | strange unknown. His Honor then ordered a cab, to convey the insane to the place, in the Second Mu i nicipality, at which he said his residence was situated. The poor man entered the cab and rolled away for a few squares, but becoming dissatisfied, he jumped out and ran towards the swamp at a fearful pace,, since which time he has not been seen. [ True Della. A Corkscrew Direction. —“ Come to my room, I want to see you.” “Where is your room ?” “In St. Charles’ Exchange.” “Well, I believe there are several rooms in* that house, how shall I go to get to yours.” “Come right in and turn round left —come ■ up one pair of stairs, turn right round left again, come forward, come up, turn round, , come up two pair of stairs, turn round three times, come forward and knock at the door.”’ “Stop, don’t you think I could get there quicker, if I was to go down the middle and up again, cross over, turn round, forward two dos-a-dos, Indian file, promenade, shake ft stick, ent stick, fiddle-stick, dance round two pair of partners, and so follow my nose ?” “No, no. just follow my directions, and you’ll be sure to find me.” “Or lose myself to a certainty.” Epitaph on a Lady.— An excellent epitaph was engraved many years ago, in few words, on the tomb stone of an elderly lady: She was always busy—and always quiet.