Newspaper Page Text
L
By the Sandersville Publishing Company.
“LET ALL THE ENDS THOU AIMEST AT, BE THY COUNTRY’S, THY GOD’S, AND TRUTH’S.”
ta*: 98 00 pr
Old Series—Vol. XXVIII.
New Series—-Vol. n.
SANDERSYJLLE, GEORGIA, FEBRUARY 27, 1874.
NO. 35.
The Sakdeesville Herald & Georgian is
published at Sandersville, Ga., every Friday
morning. Terms of subscription $2.00, per
annum in advance. No name entered upon
the mail book until at least a part ot a years
subscription has been paid. No newspaper
can prosper unless conducted upon the cash
system.
Advertising accounts are due when called
for, unless otherwise agreed upon. Our pri
ces for advertising are those fixed by the
Georgia Press Association and are very rea
sonable.
The paper has a circulation of about twen
ty-five hundred copies weekly, and presents
superior advantages to those who wish to ad
vertise.
All communications, or letters on business,
should be addressed, “Herald & Georgian."
A X on the margin of your paper indicates
that your subscription has expired, nnd that
the publisher would like to have you renew
it Two XX marks, indicate that unless you
remit at an early day yo'ur name will be
stricken from the list. We hope not to be
under the necessity of placing a X mark up
on a single paper during-the year.
J. JI, G. 1IEDLOCK, Sen. Editor.
would not have her see you acting so t able couple that night; he so dark Poor girl! Well, I was going to give
in the street for anything,” answered;and noble looking, and such a fair, Elory all the good news I could—not
Millie, walking on "and leaving her tiny, gentle darling.” ,the sad.”
-A.-n —_T — at Annie was interrupted by the ser-i “Tell me of her,” said Flory. “Has
vant announcing: “Mr. DeVere.” she had trouble? I’ve heard noth-
Howard Devere was, in oklen ing since her marriage. You know
times, a great favorite with the girls; ! rumor declared she made a brilliant
and none the less popular when, after, match.”
POETRY.
THE LOUD'S PUAVEU.
BY MARCELLA A. FITZGERALD.
“Our Father, uhu art in Heaven."
“Our Father,” words of loving
Thou hast taught our lips to frame,
G! ' i g to earth’s erring children
’lut l-ar shelter of Thy name.
Father u. ‘.'•a tribes that wander
In the d... .ness far away,
Father of the hearts that love Thee,
Love and serve Thee day by day,
Thou who ruls’t the highest heavens,
Thou whose voice the wave commands,
Thou whose mandate called to being
All the known and unknown lands,
Look on us with eyes of mercy,
Let our lives Thy love still claim :
Make us in nur daily actions •
Worthy children of Tliy nama
“Hallowed be Thy name.”
By the lips of every people
Let thy praises, Lord, be told ;
All Thy glories, all Thy beauties,
Let their eloquence unfold.
By the sound of grand hosannas
Thrilling through cathedral aisles ;
When the organ’s rolling pains
Shake the shining marble piles.
By the homage of the mighty,
By the homage of the poor,
By the reverential worship
Yielded while the years endure;
By the sweetest thoughts and purest
Which Thy favored spirits frame,
By the lisping tones of childhood,
Father, hallowed be Thy name.
“Thy kingdom come."
To the rich on whom Thy blessings
Have been showered with generous hand
To the humble, to the noble,
To the honored of the land ;
To the pure, sweet hearts of children.
To the sad, worn hearts of age,
To the wanderer, to the laborer,
To the scholar, to the sage;
To the faithful spirits toiling
On their pilgrimage of pain.
Hoping, praying that their efforts—
That their striving be not vain ;
To the souls by sorrow stricken,
To the lips in anguish dumb,
In its bright and fadeless beauty,
Father, let Thy kingdom come.
‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven."
Let the laws Thy love hath given
Lest our faltering footsteps stray,
Mould our lives and draw us closer, |
Father, to Thy heart each day,
Bind our spirits with Thy fetters,
Let us only live and move
In the doing of Thy mandates,
In the seeking of Thy love.
As the shining seraphs standing
In the presence of Thy throne,
Haste in joy to do Thy bidding,
Why Thywill Thou makest known,
So we prujl^ heavenly Father,
That from morn till set of sun,
In our thoughts and words and actions
May thy holy will be done.
“Give us this day our daily bread."
Hearken to the sad appealing,
Hearken to the wailing cry;
Fill the wants whose ceaseless craving
Thou alone can’st satisfy.
From the lips by famine whitened,
From the lips" by plenty fed,
Bises up the meek petition.
Father, for our daily bread—
For the bread that sates all hunger,
For a knowledge of Thy word
Pure and perfect, in its power,
Till the inmost heart is stirred.
Give us the Bread of Angels,
The dear banquet of Thy love,
Feed us, strengthen and sustain us,
Till we see Thy face above.
“Forgive us our trespasses, as ice forgive those
who trespass against us.”
By thy love which none can measure,
Bv thy pity which all feel,
Pleading pardon for each trespass,
Father at Thy feet we kneel,
Pardon for the grave offenses
That our erring hearts have wrought
Pardon for each word unkindly,
For each dark, ungenerous thought,
Pardon us and teach us, Father,
Our forgiveness to bestow
Upon all who wrong or grieve us
On our journey here below,
Pardon us, and as we pardon
At Thy bidding, may we claim
Through our lives the strength and comfort
Dwelling in Thy honored name,
“And lead us not into temptation."
From the thousand blinds and snares
Spread around the path of youth,
From temptations which allure
In the borrowed garb of truth,
From the fieDd's delusive wiles,
From the tempter’s spell of power,
Underneath Thy loving care,
Shields us, Father, hour by hour.
Set a guard about our hearts,
Lest the “Evil One of Sin,”
Finding every gate ajar
And unguarded, enter in.
Fashion by Thy will divine
Every thought and word of ours,
Till within Thy sight they shine,
Blossoms for Thy garden bowers.
“Hut deliver us from evil Amen."
Keep us from the evils round ns,
From the woes that walk by night,
From the clouds whose dreary darkness
Seek to hide from us Thy light.
From the hatred of our foemen,
From their malice, from their spleen,
From their venomed words of anger
Piercing us like arrows keen.
AVeak and vain our spirit's battling,
If no-aid from Thee is given,
If our strength and courage spring not
From ThjHjoundless wealth in Heaven;
So, “Deliver us from evil,”
Humbly, Father, do we pray,
Lest our deeds, when weighed, be wanting
In the dread accounting day.
[Gilroy Advocate.
“select miscellany,
proving her friends.
“Who is that girl who has j us t
imqssd Millie? Her face is very
familiar, and I really believe she knew
either you or me; for although she
did not look toward us, 1 noticed the
color deepen in her face, which was
very sweet and pretty. Where have
I seen her?”
“Come on, Annie. I declare you
are forever publishing the fact of
your being in the country. It’s dread
fully rude and vulgar to run arounci
and stand staring after any one,
come! There is Mrs. St. John
still standing gazing after the retreat
ing form which had puzzled her. An
other call from Millie, brought her
along.
“Who is Mrs. St.John? I’msure
I don’t care a snap for her. But I
do want to remember where I have
seen that young girl. I’ve a mind
now to take after her and find out.
“You must not. I would not have
Mrs. St.John—’ began Millie
“Oh, pshaw! Mrs. Fiddlesticks!
W T hat do I care for her? I don’t
know her, and don’t want to. Dear
me, how that girl’s face bothers me!
Don’t you know anything about her,
Millie ?”
“Yes; and to stop you before Mrs.
St. John comes up to speak to us, I
will tell you. Don’t you remember,
two years ago, when you spent the
Christmas vacation with me, the lit
tle blonde that lived next door and
used to be quite fond of you?”
“What! Flory Courtland? You
cannot mean her”
“Yes, that was Florenco Court-
land.”
“Then why did you not speak to
her?’ Annie asked, with great sur
prise manifested in her look and
tone.
Oh—why—well, you know all my
friends are very aristocratic, and if
any of them should see me speaking
to Florence they would wonder so at
it. And of course I could not very
well enter into an explanation of
what her family used to be; so I
thought it better not to recognize
her. And—”
“What is the matter with her ?
What has she done ?” Annie asked.
Oh, she has done nothing wrong.
Of course not. I thought you knew
how very much they were reduced.
At the time you met her, rumor said
her father had lost nearly everything.
But he managed to keep up a pretty
good appearance until he died, about
four years ago. Then everything was
seized by creditrs. Flory had to
leave school, and go to work to help
support the family. She has a broth
er two years older; they are both
in Black’s. I used to deal there;
hut after Florence was employed by
them I ceased going. It was so em
barrassing. We were so very inti
mate at one time. But of course
one lias to drop acquaintances some
times. What are yon staling at me
for, Annie ? I’m sure it does not
improve your appearance to open
your eyes so wide.” /
“Millie Norton, I dad not think you
weTtT'SS heartjess. /; - wish I had
known that was Florence Courtland.
Dear girl! I shall certainly go to
Black’s to see her before I leave
town.”
“Indeed, I hope you will not, An
nie. In fact, I must insist that while
you are my guest you will not at
tempt—”
“Do stop this nonsense. Millie.
I know what you were going to say,
and I don’t care a straw for your ar
istocratic friends. Perhaps the time
will come when you will deem it ad
visable to drop me. I had better
prepare myself for it. Five or six
ears ago I should have thought it
just as probable as your ever ceasing
to visit and be friendly with Flory
Courtland. Now, you may like it
or not, but this very afternoon I am
going to call on her; and though I
annot invite her to visit me while
in town, perhaps I can induce her to
come to see me next summer.”
‘Annie! Annie! you surely are not
in earnest^- exclaimed Millie.
‘Indeed I am. I shall try and make
amends for the cruelty of her former
friends,’ returned Annie.
Before Millie could enter another
protest, her friend. Mrs. St. John,
cameup, much to Millie’s annoyance.
Annie, after being presented to
that lady, begged to be excused, and
left them.
Where .she went, Millie knew that
evening, when in the midst of a half
dozen of her aristocratic friends, An
nie asked of a gentleman near:
‘Do you remember that lovely lit
tle blonde, Flory Courtland? She was
iu a tableau with you and me five
years ago.’.
‘Indeed I do,’ he answered, adding
and have often wondered what has
become of her Howard DeVere in-
uircs concer ing her "every time we
eet- -which s not often, however,
bit kiow be as just retni-oed. bom
idi Wetl ught sometimes he was
ry ,eply i terested inFlory-Miss
lorn ..and, I suppose I should say.
8Ue must be quite a young lady now.’
‘Oil, yes, and a very lovely one.
But she is not as beautiful as I
thought she would be.—She is pale
and looks sad; but I hope we shall
he able to win the roses back to her
cheeks. She has promised to visit
me the coming summer,’ answered
Annie, glancing across to where Mil
lie sat, trying to divert her friend’s
attention from the unwelcome con
versation.
, ‘Will you give me Miss Courtland’s
address?’ asked the young gentle
man
, T really forgot to get it myself,’
uswered Annie, continuing, ‘I found
ler in Black’s this afternoon. But I
callnjpin, before I leave town
getTit. 1 * ou know,’ she hesitat-
ttl an instant—‘her circumstances
i ia ye changed very sadly since you
knew her. She is poor now, with
few friends, of course.’ This was said
with a little bitterness in the tone,
glancing again at Millie.
“If you remember, DeVere ’ffns
the falconer and Flory his bride, the
very last time I saw her,” said
gentleman, who, much to Julhe s
noyauce, determined to keep n P
nnpleasant theme. ^ Jjg looke d
an absence of five years, he returned
from abroad. Millie did her best to
keep him as much as possible from
a tete a tete with Annie, knowing she
would revive all the interest he had
ever felt for Elory Courtland. But
her efforts were unavailing. The
interrupted conversation was renew
ed and joined by Howard DeVere.
When he was making his adieu in
the evening, Millie heard him saying
to Annie:
“To-morrow evening. Thank
you.”
“Where are you going, Annie ?”
Millie asked, when the door closed
on his retreating steps.
“To call on Flory. Courtland," an
swered Annie.
Annie’s reply put flight to all Mil
lie’s hopes with regard to Howard
DeYere.
“Annie Ellwood,” she cried, “what
are you doing this for ?”
Millie, uot to worry you, believe
mo ; only to comfort one so sadden
ed and wounded by the heartless
ness and cruelty of former friends.
Poor Flory! I think, Millie, if you
could have seen her when she spoke
of meeting us to-day, you would have
regretted your course. I truly be
lieve she really loved you. And you
have wounded her so cruelly—just
because she is poor!”
“No, no—not that; only—”
“Well, only because you have not
the moral_courage to put your arm
around this poor, gentle girl, and say
to your aristocratic acquaintances,
“This is my friend.” You know her
origin is as good as any of their’s
—better than many. But she is poor,
and has to work for her daily bread.
This is her crime. For this you con 5
demn and desert her,” Annie said,
her flushed face telling how warmly
she sympathized with the poor girl
whose cause s^ie espoused so earn
estly.
The entrance of Millie’s parents
ended the conversation that evening,
and it never was resumed during the
few days more of Annie’s visit.
Flory Courtland flitted about her
little parlor, arranging the few arti
cles of furniture, to make the room
look as cozily as possible. Remnants
of happier days were brought forth
—statuetts and prized books—and
then she sat down to wait- for her
Yes, true, George Andrews was
very wealthy. They lived in a style
of unsurpassed magnificence here,
but for a short time only. She is
now a widow and dependent on her
own exertions for support. She has
one child only. George drank him
self to death.”
“But Millie’s parents—they surely
could help her. "
“No, Flory, Mr. Norton lived up
to every cent of his income, na;
more, went into debt to keep up sue
a style as Millie wanted to entertain
and retain her aristocratic friends.
Mr. Norton is with her son, who is
not able to help Millie at all. I have
been to see her several times and
urged her visiting me last Summer.
She declined, and seemed to shrink
from her former friends ?”
“Because they do not approach her
rightly. I do not mean you, Annie
dear. She shall not shrink from me.
I will find her. ’Dear Millie! How
the used to love me when we were
little girls,” Flory said, remember
ing only Millie’s sorrow, and Millie’s
love in childhood days.
The next afternoon, as tired, wea
ry, Millie stepped forth from the
place of her daily labor, an elegant
private carriage drew up. The dri
ver hastened to open the door. A
lady sprang out and with out
stretched hand approached her. As
if the wheels of time had turned
backward in the course, Flory came
to her just as in her childhood.
Such a warm, loving greeting Mil
lie could not resist. With eyes filled
with tears, she asked :
Can you forgive me ?”
Never, if you persist in wearing
out your strength in this warm, dus
ty city—never if you refuse to grant
my petition,” answered Flory, again
clasping and retaining Millie’s hand.
“What do you mean, Mrs. ,”
she hesitated—“Flory?” shesaid, as
Flory looked reproachfully, saying
gently:
“Don’t speak to me so, Millie dear.
There is a place in my heart and
home waiting for you to fill Millie.
We want you to come, with your lit
tle one, to us. Come help me to
take care of my children. Be my
sister and their teacher. Do, Mil
lie.”
Flory would listen to no denial.
visitor?. The usually.pale face
From the Live Stock Journal, j of complaint of the quality of South
Diversity of Crops. !em dairy products.
All experience proves that those; The future prosperity of Southern
countries which diversify their bus- ! ern agriculture must depend upon
diversifying her production to meet
home wants.
ty
I’ve heard noth- bandry to meet their ordinary wants,
are more independent and prosperous
than those that depend upon a few
special crops or productions, and are
obliged to purchase many of the nec
essaries of life. A new crop added
to the productive history of a coun
try, is an addition to its thrift and
wealth. Instance beet culture in
France and Germany. This produc
tion in France, alone, saves her $50,
000,000, and does not interfere with
her general agriculture; in fact she
grows more beef and dairy products,
and also more grain, than, than before
beet culture commenced. The thrift
of England and Scotland nearly main
tain in food a population of some
twenty-fdur millions upon less tilla
ble land than the States of Hlnois and
Indiana. Would it be possible for
them to do this without a great di
versity of products ? Suppose that
instead of the great variety of agri
cultural products, she devoted her
self entirely to the production of an
imal food, and the diary, for which
her soil and climate are admirably
adapted, relying upon the exchange
of these for all the grains used as hu
man fpod; it would require more
than all her immense earnings in
manufactories to make up the defi
ciency. California, where gold, the
measure of all value, can be produc
ed, limited only by the labor expend
ed, was poor when she began to de
velop her agriculture. And now the
poorest and most destitute of her
population are gathered in her mines.
The production of a specialty means
poverty and dependence to the mass
engaged in it. Cuba exports sugar
and buys bread, and under this sys
tem would be poor even in freedom
The West Idles, since 1840, have
greatly diversified their productions
and increased the comfort and inde
pendence of the population. Then-
exports of sugar and coffee have fal
len off, but their home-wealth has
increased. It is the surplus after
supplying home wants, not the ex-
lorts that determines wealth. There-
ore you must examine the variety of
home production, and the home life
of a people, to form a correct conclu
sion as to their independence and
wealth. Let us apply these princi
ples to the agricultural condition of
the South.
With a rich soil in all the elements
required for the greatest variety of
production, and a climate which
would alrnosf rmrsp or 7tpgr»i-f ip
flushed with a beautiful bloom ; the
bright light of hope beamed forth as
she murmured:
“He Las Dot forgotten me.”
That day, good little Annie Ell
wood had called on Flory again, and
after having secured her address,
whispered :
“Look your best to-night, Flory.
Iam to bring your truant Falcoper.
But his absence has not been, his
fault. He has vainly tried to find
his bride many times. I met him
last night, and promised to bring him
to you.”
Flory’s face crimsoned. She urged,
in a low voice, her changed position,
her humble home, and ended by say
ing:
‘Thank you, dear Annie; but I
think it will be best we should not
meet.’
‘No, indeed! He shall come with
me: and do all you can, yon shall
not escape us. If you go out we will
wait until you return,’ Annie answer
ed.
And Flory, seeing how determined
she was, yielded to her friend’s de
sire, her own heart pleading its cause
all the time.
With Howard DeYere was connect
ed the only romance of Flory’s life.
When a little maiden of fourteen, he
had been her beau ideal of everything
manly and noble. No one had ever
usurped his place in her heart since.
Yet, she never thought he would be
any more to her than a memory of
the past.
Howard DeYere was a whole soul-
ed, noble-hearted fellow. With his
easy, cordial greeting, he relieved the
embarrassment of their meetin. In
half an hour after he entered her
house, Floiy was chatting away, for
getting all the sorrow and changes of
years, and thinking only for the pre-
ocnA. «> Kwpy/j ana fall of hope. X es,
he had remembered her, and fondly,
too, her heart whispered, after the
departure of her guests, when she
sat recalling Howard’s every look and
word. When Annie Ellwood had
welcomed Flory, the next Summer,
to her beautiful country home, she
drew the happy girl close to her, and
looking into the eyes so full of love
and peace, said:
What tell-tale eyes you have, Flo
rence.”
The brignt flush deepened on the
sweet girl’s face as she asked, in
whispers low:
‘What have they told you?’
“That Howard DeYere has won
his lady love.”
Ten years and more had passed.
Florence DeYere, after a long ab
sence in Europe, had returned to
W , Annie Ellwcod, long since
married, was visiting her.
Howard- declared he had not found
a cbarico, in six days, to get in a word
edgewise, they bad so much to toll
each of; news from home, and news
from across the sea.
“Now, I think y ou must be pretty
nearly done,’said Ho ward. ‘You have
heard something about every friend
a»d acquaintance you have ever had,
I believe. No,” he added, “I me t
one to-day, that you have not spok
en of, and was surprised to notice
she avoided speaking to me Millie
Norton it was.”
“Millife -Andrews,” Annie said,
“And how beautiful she Jjc'
then! I do not wonder that he ~~— , „
remember and inquire , otte “ we had quite forgotten Rk.
I declare, they made a» auu “
carriage, and insisted on calling for
her little girl, to go with them to the
beautiful home, a few miles out of
town, which Howard had just pur
chased.
Howard DcVere’s greeting was as
cordial as his wife’s. The children
with their mother’s loving nature,
gathered around the little stranger,
and made her so happy, that when
Millie returned next morning to town,
she was forced to yield to the plead
ings of all, and leave her child with
Flory.
Millie’s next visit was prolonged
from time to time, until at length she
grew to call Flory’s home hers. Tru
ly she had proved the difference be
tween her former friends, and the
noble woman whose aristocracy was
of the highest and truest foundation,
coming direct from her Maker—a
pure, loving and forgetting heart.
Mother Speak Low.
I know some houses, well built
and handsomely furnished, where it
is not pleasant to be even a visitor.
Sharp, angry tones resound through
them form morning till night, and
the influcece is as contagions as
measles, and much more to be dead-
ed in a household. The children
catch it, and it lasts for life—an in
curable disease. A friend has snch
a neighbor within hearing of her
house when doors and windows are
open, and even Poll Parrot caught
the tune, and delights in screaming
until she has been sent into the
country to improve her habits.
Children catch cross tones quicker
than parrots, and it is a much more
mischievous habit. When mother
sets the example, you will scarcely
hear a pleasant word among the
children in their plays with each
otner. Yet the discipline of such a
family is always weak and irregular.
The children expect jnst so much
scolding before they do anything they
are bid, while while in many a home,
where the low, firm tone of the moth
er or the decided look of her steady
eye is law, they never think of diso
bedience, either in or out of her
sight. O, mother, it is worth a great
deal to cultivate that “excellent thing
in a woman,” a low, sweet voice. If
you are ever so much tried by the
mischievous or willful pranks of the
little ones, speak low. It will be a
great help to you, to even try to be
patient and cheerful, if you can not
succeed. Anger makes you wrethed,
and your children also. Impatient,
angry tones never did the heart good,
but plenty of evil. Rerd what Sol
omon says of them, and remember
he wrote with an inspired pen. You
can not have the excuse for them
that they lighten your burdens any;
they make them only ten times heavi
er. For your own, as well as your
children’s sake, learn to speak low.
They will remember that tone when
your head is under the willows. So,
too, will they remember .a harsh and
angry tone. Which legacy will you
leave your children?
A man who was afraid of lightning
insulated his chair on four pieces of
glass, and sat in it daring a thunder
faithfulness, she expends her ener
gies upon cotton to clothe the world
and depends upon others to supply
her daily food. She is beguildedwith
a high price for cotton, and does not
discover that she pays a still higher
price for com and meat.
What avails a large money return
for a cotton crop, if it mnst be trans
ferred to the factor or merchant
for advances made to live on while
the crop is growing? H the planter
could purchase his supplies upon an
adjoining farm at real cost of pro
duction, it would change the case ma
terially; but he is obliged to pay the
cost of production, with long trans
portation and several commissions
added; so that they cost him at least
fifty per cent, more than to produce
them upon his own plantation.
The whole system of Southern ag
riculture should be changed. Every
planter should lay down, as a first
principle, the necessity of producing
every article for which his soil is ad
apted, required to supply his home
wants. And when he starts upon this
fundamental principle, he will find
very few articles of food required
which he cannot produce at home.
This rule should be established, not
only for the sake of economy in cur
rent expenditure, but to prevent the
rapid exhaustion of the Southern
soil. This would lead to the proper
rotation—would furnish a large
amount of valuable home fertilizers,
gratuitously. Many planters pay
thousands of dollars, annually, for
commercial manures, every element
of which might be supplied to them
by a proper system of stock husband
ry, at no real cost. Many millions
might be saved by the introduction
of a Southern dairy sistem.
Possessing many indigeneous gras
ses, with soil adapted to the produc
tion of red and white clover, winter
rye, Indian com, oats, and many
other foreign crops, what should
hinder the production or a fair qual
ity of butter and cheese ? We do not
suppose that the butter made in so
warm a climate will have the keeping
qualities of that made in the Middle
States but for present use it may
have a quality satisfactory to the
most fastidious taste. The true
system of keeping cattle on cotton
lands must be soiling. This will dis
pense with nearly all the fences, and
by feeding the animals in stable or
yard, will save all the manure for ap
plication to the soiling crop, and the
cotton crop which follows it. _ With
the use of the mowing machine or
reaper, the labor of cutting and feed
ing green crops to stock is much less
than that of fencing. By this sys
tem, also, the planter may also keep
a large stock and not reduce the
production of his staple crop. Each
cow or bullock, fall fed, will produce
a fertilizer equal in value to one-half
ton of the best guano; and will abun
dantly pay for keeping and labor in
milk and beef.
Every farm should be furnished
with a milk room, made mostly un
derground, or with a double wall fill
ed with saw-dust, tan bark, or straw
SEHI-AXXI AL REPORT
Or the Executive Committee of
the tieorgin State Agricultural
Society.
The Executive Committee of the
Georgia State Agricultural Society,
in presenting their semi-annual’ re
port, would make a few practical re
flections to this body, and through it
to the people of Georgia, bearing up
on our interests and condition as an
agricultural class. In the outset of
the observations we shall make, can
dor compels ns to say that the theme
is an oppressive .one. The subject
is one of vast proportions, and at
best, under the most propitious cir
cumstances, would tax the best intel
lect and widest experience of the
country to the utmost.
But troubles and complications, al
most unexampled in our history as
a people, are now supevadded to the
intrinsic difficulties of the situation,
and we assemble to-day as a body
of patriots and agriculturists, envi
roned with problems of large and
grave import. Seldom before in the
history of mankind, where a people
have not been scourged by famine,
pestilence or a very recent war, has
the anomiloos and painful state of
things existed which marks the con
dition to-day of a large portion of
the people of Georgia.
Can anything be more genial than
oar climate, more benignant than our
seasons, more bountiful than our
soil, or more valuable and sustaining
than our staples? And yet what is
the actual condition of our people ?
We do not now allude to the pon
producers of the State; nor are we
now objecting to the importation of
such immense bulk of supplies of all
sorts furnished these non-producers,
by producers beyond our limits,
which it should be the exclusive pro
vince of Georgia farmers to supply;
but we are filled with apprehension
and humiliation when we confess the
alarming fact that the men iu Georgia
who profess to get their living by
planting and farming are not making
their own bread. This is not simp
ly a fact for the statistician, it is not
a matter for ingenious disquisition or
pleasant debate, but it should strike
terror into our heart, as should the
sound of the “fire bell at midnight.”
No wonder credit is lost, business
paralyzed, enterprise suppressed,
capital IrighteneiFaway, and immi
gration warned from our borders.
hives, the fruit from a very limited
number of fruit trees, with such a sap
ply of garden vegetables as three-
fourths of an acre would produce, will
supply a family in comfort and abun
dance. Six acres in corn, half an acre
eaca in sweet and Irish potatoes, three
acres in wheat five hogs and two acres
in clover, or one in millet or drilled
c*>rn, will secure so great a thing as a
liberal supply of provisions for a fam
ily of ten persons for a twelvemonth.
Twelve acres’ would be enough, and
more than enough, to produce these
supplies.
This is Tar less than the task of one
hand for a year’s work—only seven
acres in actually cultivated crops. Af
ter providing for the food of a horse
used in the crop, by four acres o!
corn and two of oats, one laboring
man could still Cultivate cotton enough
for the remaining actual wants of a
family already supplied with abund
ant and wholesome food.
Let no one disdain this humble ex
hibit of the capabilities of.our soil, or
this homely review of the vital possi
bilities of every farm house in Geor
gia. Could our voice be beard this day,
and heeded throughout the limits of
this dear old State, and the policy here
ndicatcd be teduccd to practical ef
fect, joy which spring* from plenty,
would soon take the place of that de
jection with which penury and re
striction have overshadowed so many
laces in our midst,
In one season (unless to those al
ready imprudently involved in debt),
plenty would smile upon his hearth
stone.
But there is a class who must wait
longer, and practice yet more econ
omies. They must atone for the past
before the future shall find them free
men; for the debtor is ev>r servant
to the lender, cal; the re'atioDship
what we may
The direct and immediate result of
universal abundance would be inde
pendence—real freedom of action and
thought—freedom from the restraints
of a self assured bondage which hon
or forbids men to shake off, except by
meeting all its exacti;ns. The farme -
in this attitude, can afford to wait.
A cognate cause of our trouble has
been the credit system at high rates of
interest. This stupendous source of
trouble is closely connected with the
farmer; fur, be it observed, that the
borrowing of maney is almost exclu
sively for the purpose of theoverpro
ductioD of cotton. It is the effort to
stretch out after more cotton than we
have the actual means of producing,
by borrowing from a h ”y
This is the spectacle we present. An
agricultural people “begging bread ”
Alas, that we should ever have
seen the day.
How plain a tale shall rebuke us!
The public intelligence has not com
mitted—could not possibly have com
mitted—any such blunder. Mnst
we confess the fact to each other?
We had as well, and here in this
presence of the assembled represen
tatives of the agriculture of Georgia,
plead guilty to the charge involving
censure, as well upon our moral as
upon our common sense.
The tillers of the soil of our State
—the intelligent constituency here
represented—did not need to be told
that no agricultural community could
possibly exist in which farmers did
not produce their own supply. No ;
the fact we fear must be confessed,
that while each man professed to be
fieve this fundamental truth, each
man hoped his brother farmer and
neighbor would be so far convinced
of it as to follow its tight, and leave
him to profit by the opposite policy
of a large cotton crop, and the en
hancement of the price which every
other farmer’s full supply of pro
visions would insure. Behold the
result! No surplus of meat and
Bread for sale to non-producers in
our midst—none for the stranger at
our gates. No, not enough or near
enough for onr own household.
The oft repeated lessons of ex-
u well rammed in, with a window and
storm. He politely invited a young door on the north side, shaded by a
lady to sit in his lap for safety, but few trees, where the milk and butter
she* 7 indignantly refused, saying that can be kept comparatively cool. - _
she woffid rather be struck with; With tliis milk room, and cleanlmess and butter from two twws, the profits
'in lianHHng, there will be little cause'from thirty hens, the honey from five
and these are among the leading
causes of the present distress. We
refuse the paths of known safety.
. Let us pause here and resolve on
effectual, saving reform. It is in
vain that these pleasant semi-annual
reunions are held, and the prolific
brains of our leaders in agricultural
science and practice them with sug
gestions and lessons. In vain may
the public spirit of the State bestow
its subsides if such a short-sighted
policy and such irrational unthrifti
ness are longer to neutralize add un
do all that better counsels may de
vise.
We ask your indulgence while we
expand this topic by a few homely
and practical reflections.
First, we assume, that with an abun
dance of the necessaries of life, each
and every family in the State is plac
ed beyond physical suffering from
want, and can, from its state of inde
pendence, calmly and patiently pro
vide from an improved domestic and
rural economy; for we hold that no
man perplexed with debt, much more
the man discouraged by narrow
means of subsistence, can give such
calm, collected and hopeful energy to
his business as will promise large re
sults. How surely, and may we not
say bow easily? can each farmer’s fam
ily in the State place itsefl beyond the
danger of trouble and embarrassmeut
from lack of supplies.
Given a family of ten persons liv
ing upon their own land which sup
plies fuel without _cost: -We assume
that one hundred and thirty bushels
of meal, twelve bareis of flour, one
hundred bushels of sweet potatoes,
seventy-five bushels of Irish potatoes,
one thousand pounds of pork, the milk
mg
for Tearfulreckless
exceed the out go al! the while, ami
while in debt the man does not reach
income proper, but is a mere borrow
er of the means of subsistence. H >
should make his style severely plain,
as longats he is really living on other
people.
Such are some of the suggestion*
connected with our present situatioo.
We believe if the planters and farmers
of Georgia will ponder them with per
sonal and practical interest they will
see somathingof the facts of their con
dition, and ot the changes neccessary
for future improvements.
With one suggestion as to the prac
tical means of production, ws will
close this report.
Few questions affecting the interest
of the tillers of the soil can compare
with the dootrine ot fertilization. I»
is a very happy omen that the pub
lic mind is so universally exercised
upon this essential matter. Indeed
this interest amounts almost io en
thusiasm, and the results are to be ve»
ry important.
We venture to say that the discus
sion in public assemblies and in the
journals devoted to our business have
thrown more light on the principles
and science of fertilization, in the Iasi
three years, than wehad before in any
previous thirty years. These oral and
written discussions are rapidly popu
larizing the ideas underlying thisgreat
subject, and giving to the humblest
farmer in the land insight into t h e
principles and method unknown to
the scientific and practical minds in
the past.
The elaborate report of Prof.
White, founded on original investi
gations and analysis, is one of the
most valaable contribution to the prao-
tical knowledge of the agricultural
community of the South, ever made,
and is the pledge of yet further fruits
to be gathered by the application of
sciencs to guide the pursuits oiindus
try. So enormous are the outlays an
nually made for fertilizers, that any
information as to their cost, their fit
ness and the means of ascertaining it,
is of great and timely public service.
The committee also furnishes to the
people the report of Cvl. Ilardeman,
showing the comparative productions
of various years, and one humiliating
fact in regard to the extent of our im
portations of what should be produc
ed at home. M uch of the effects of
the great financial crisis would have
been avoided by the policy hereinbo- -
fore shadowed forth.
We also publish the valuable ex-
perimenis of Prof. Pendleton, to be
risks, and play ing the prodigal, Seld
om is a loan effected or needed for mak
mg provisions, and if made for this
purpose, it is small, proportioned to
the means of the boorower, and made
by a nt>in pretty sure to pay soon.
But to make more cotton, men incur
debt; and to pay debt, they must
make more cotton; and ihc?e two
things uct and react till we see no
end.
This leads to a yet more radical
view of the true policy of the farmers
of Georgia and tne South. Labor is at
the foundation of production, and this
labor (for maximum results) must
needs be well directed.
But the primary thing is labor. Ou
ly in response to ibis does the earth
yield her increase: “By the sweat of
the brow,*’ is as true now as ever. A
great writer says: “In the sweat of the
brow, but not in the breaking of
thine heart, is it written, lh«a shall
eat bread.” Yet the Southern people
are eating it in both, and bought bread
is seldom eaten otherwise.
The disposition to avoid work
manifested in the present day in vari
ous restless ways. Tne gambling sys
tem, which seems to run intoe‘1 things,
and to have found new channels,
merely one of the result of a desire to
substitute chance and luck for steady
industry. Men desire to avoid the
payment of an equivalent for what
they receive; to reap the fruits of in
dustry without being subject to its
toils. From this spirit the agricultur
al classes were foimerly, io a great
measure, free; but it has now invad
ed them, and farming even has be
come a speculative business, and the
production of cotton at others’ risks
as largely engaged in as the purchase
and sale of “futures.” A nariow mar
gin suffices, and so farmers, instead o(
being independent producers on a
sound basis, become speculators, risk
ing anuual ruin.
Not every farmer who does this
sees distinctly wiiat he is doing; but
this is the upshot cf the system pur
sued. *
A word to those already in debt.
Let all your policy be to get out; aud
when once out to keep out.
Comply with every existing obli
gation first, then make no new on; s
which you have no clear sure means
of meeting.
But how get out? Deb ! Debt! This
is the overwhelming evil ot large sec
tions of the State, and large dumbers
of planters. There is no royal road
out. The credit system is the royal
toad in, but, the tracks all point one
way—in. The way out, i< work and
economy. Let the fruits of work go
toward the payment of debt; nor run
into more expenditure for enjoyment.
Make all you can, and consume as lit
tle as you can; homely, honest advioe.
Live plainly. The establishments of
most men are too big for them—their
scale too big. The war left people
with great establishment! aud small
resources. The family coach was left,
but not the coach horses. We are, as
a people, like a man after a typhoid
fever, shrunk too little for his ckHbea.
To try to fill theimwe puff ourselves
up with the credfTsistem. — -*—
Will the fathers of Georgia think 1 fedlffaow
of the suggestw»n? Their actual iooome
should furuislrtheia with the scale of
continued fro®-year to ycai'^as me
result of careful observation of liaier-~
esting practical problems.
From the Treasurer'* report we find
tbat the receipts for the past twelve
months have been from the city of
Macon and the State of Georgia.. $18,357.12
There was loft a balance in the trea
sury from the lost annual report. .2,072.91!
Aud that there has been disbursed the
past year 19,235.67
Tnis has been paid out on warrants
of the Secretary upon the Treasurer,
for advertising, printing, postage, sta
tionery, salaries, office expenses, exe-
entive committee, society premiums,
Macon premiums, expenses of fair,
and fertiliz r investigations, all of
which warrants running from No.—
to No.—.
With only $2,500 appropriated by
the Legislature, your committee has
been very seriously embarrassed for
lack of money; and to enable it to
hold the annual fairs, has been com
pelled to secure the requisite funds by
making contracts with the cities at
which the fairs have been held. This
has interfered more or less seriously,
with giving such character to the fairs
as in the judgment of your commit
tee wookl develop their highest uae--
fulness.
Instead of conducting thj»,fsjr as a
big show, attractive main^Tq sight
seekers, U is deemed-wry desirable to
make it an exposition, where the pro-
ducls of skill and industry should be
arranged for inspection during sever
al weeks that, without jostling and
confusion, they may be leisurely and
carefully examined by visitors. Such
an arrangement would effectually dis
pense with the disturbing concomit
ants usaally present on our fair
grounds, and which, although oflhn-
?ive and distasteful to yoar commit
tee, they have not been able, for rea
sons given above, fully to control-
This statement, your committee feels,
is due both to itself and the public.
Notwithstanding the difficulties
enumerated, it moat be conceded that
the last fair held at Macon was of
great value to the agricultural inter
ests of the State. The spirit of gen
erous emulation developed between
the competing counties, the impulse
given to their respective formers,
and indirectly to those of the whole
State through their magnificent ex
hibitions, cannot foil to elevate the
standard of agriculture and give new
momentum to all branches of industry
The ill health of Mr. S. Barnett
compelled him, reluctantly, to tender
his resignation as secretary of the
society in August last. With equal
reluctanoe the committee accepted
the same. Mr. Malcolm Johnston,
who had been for sometime assistant
secretary, was at the same time elect
ed secretary, and has proved himself
a prompt and efficient officer.
(Signed) A. H. Colquitt, chairman;
Geo. W. Adams, Wm. M. Brcfom,
W. H. Bonner, H. H. Cary, 2.
Clarke, John A. Cobb, James H.
Fannin, George Harrison, Thoe.
W. Fleming, T. G. Holt, W. L.
Jones, J. S. Lavender, J. S..
ton, James M- Mobley. I, N. ]
C. A. Redd,
Warring, i
r.
A Qua
,.. "‘■qEgijB
fcefolt
eyondj
notM
