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AUGUSTA WASHINGTONIAN. wtwMtvnuvt mwv>mw»vm« £& Ctirni to statist Skstarogas. Vol. II.„. No. 9.] Ch c WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, BY JAMES McCAFFERTY, At the low price of one dollar per annum, fori a single subscriber, five dollars for a club of 1 six, or ten dollars for a club of twelve sub scribers —payment, in advance. All (Joimnunlbatioos, by mail, addressed to the i publisher, must be post paid to receive atten tion. By the rules of the Post-Office Depart ment, Post masters may frank subscription money for Newspapers. Advf.rtisements will be inserted at the follow ing reduced rates: —For one square, not ex ceeding twelve linc«Jfc) cents for the first insertion, and twentjfifitfe cents for each con tinuance. if published weekly; ifsemi-monthly 37j; and if monthly 43f cents, for each con tinuance. Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount. 0 From the Tcnnesse State Agriculturist. To Preserve Wheat from the Weevil. As our harvest is coming on, it may not *be amiss to drop a hint to the numer ous readers of your excellent Journal, on (he most effectual method of preserving our wheat from the weevil. The follow ing plan l have tried for ten years, and 1 find it never to fail. The wheat when cut should be shocked in from 12 to 14 sheaves in a shock, and this neatly done, and covered with 3 sheaves, taken from that number, and let it remain in the field for 2 or 3 weeks until it is thoroughly cured, then take it in, in fair weather when the dew is off, and thrash and clean it, immediately ; so that it may not get damp by lying in a bulk ; then have hogs heads, of about the size that will hold from 15 to IB bushels each, or barrels or goods-boxes will do, hut I prefer hogs head; then get thick dry bark, and build fires near the house where you intend to pul your cle«n wheat about the size of a half bushel in a round pile, set it on firel and let it burn nearly down to coals, then place your hogshead over the fire mouth I down, then raise one edge about three! inches to admit the air and let it remain until the hogshead is so hot you cant bare your hand on the outside; then let two hands put a board under the mouth so that thpv can carry it mouth down to the place where it is tostand, then turniton its head and let every little fellow have his bucket of wheat and fill the hogshead instantly, so that mine of the steam or heat may escape in filling; when full, it need not be covered, it will remain warm in the centre for several days. In this way I preserve my wheat every year, and have now old wheat which is plump and good as when it was put up last harvest. I had a wagon load ground a few days ago. and a gentleman who supped with me last night said it was remarkably well tasted and equal to our Cincinnati flour. Lastly it does not injure the grain at all; I put up all my seed wheat in the same way. Yours truly, j. BURNS. It is believed that the eggs of the while weevil is deposited when the wheat is in bloom, as the insect always cuts out of the grain; therefore the process which I hastily sketch in this letter, kills the egg in the grain before it hatches. J. B. Mulberry Grove, Tenn., July, 1843. . Important to Farmers. Hart Massey, Esq., of this village, took a small portion of the seed corn with which he planted a field, and soaked it in a solution of salt nitre, commonly called saltpetre, and planted five rows with the seed thus prepared. The five ' rows planted with corn prepared with saltpetre yielded more than twenty-five rows planted without any preparation ; ' the five rows were untouched by the worm, while the remainder of the field ! suffered severely from their depredations. We should judge that not one kernel saturated with saltpetre was touched by the worm, while almost every hill in the adjoining field suffered severely. No one who will examine the field can doubt the I efficacy of the preparation. He will be I astonished at the striking difference be- i tween the five rows and the remainder of t the field. ’ |] Here is a simple fact which, ifreason- i ably known, would have saved thousands!- 5 ot dollars to the farmers of this county < alone in the article of corn. At ail It events, the experiment should be exten-h sivelv tested, as the results are deemed j certain, while the expense is compara-!c tivcly nothing.—[ Washington Standard. < AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, AUGUST 5, 1843. Hints to Farmers. A farmer should never undertake to cultivate more land than he can do tho roughly ; half tilled land is growing jpoorer; well tilled land is constantly! ; improving. ' A farmer should never keep more cat i tie, horses, sheep or hogs, than he can ! keep in good order; an animal in high order the first of December, is already! half wintered. A farmer should never depend on hisj neighbor for what he can, by care and good management, produce on his own farm ; he should never beg fruit while) he can plant trees, or borrow tools whenj he can make or buy them—-a high autho-i rity has said a borrower is servant to the lender. ' A farmer should never be so immersed! in political matters as to forget to sow; his wheat, dig his potatoes, and bank them up in his cellar; nor should he be; so inattentive to them as to be ignorant; of those great questions of national andj state policy which will always agitate, more or less, a free people. No farmer should allow the reproach of! neglected education to lie against him self or family ; if “ knowledge is power,” the commencement should be early and deeply laid in the minds of his children. A farmer should never use intoxica ting liquors as a drink ; if, while under going severe fatigue and the hard labor of the summer, he would enjoy robust health, let him be temperate in ail things. A farmer should never refuse a fair price for anything he wants to sell ; we have known a man who lmd several hun dred bushels of wheat to dispose of, refuse eight shillings and six pence, and after keeping his wheat six months, was glad to get six shillings for it. [Farmer's Cabinet. The following extracts, on Cotton Bag jging, we copy from the Savanah Repub lican : Georgia Cotton Eagging. ! “It is more than a year and a half since, that we had an article on this sub ject. Lately we referred to it again, showing statistically, that cotton bagging enough, and more than enough to supply this State could be made at Columbus, at Bto 9 cents per yard. Experience has proved first, that the cotton bagging is as strong as the hemp ; and secondly, that it is as durable, if not more so. In our first article alluded to, we instanced the fact, that several years since, when cot ton bagging was used to some extent, a boat load was left on the bank of the Savannah River for two or three weeks. It had been wet, and lay there until it could bo removed. A part of it was put up in cotton bagging—a part in hemp. When taken aboard again, the hemp bag ging would tear off by the slightest exer tion. The cotton was as strong as ever to all appearance, and the essential oil in this species of bagging had protected the cotton in such a manner, that it was not so much damaged as that put up in the hemp bagging. “Taking the ordinary crop of Georgia cotton, it can be clearly proved that if we would manufacture our own bagging within our own borders, the citizens of this Stale would save more than $350,- 000 per annum, which they now pay for foreign and Kentucky bagging. * * “ The article of cotton bagging is now manufactured in this state, and we are told that its manufacture is on the in crease, —but we fear it is not sold so cheap as it ought to be. When the ma chinery used for its fabrication is as well managed, as highly improved and effi cient as it might be, this bagging should be furnished at 11 al2 cents per yard a( ,theoutside. We hope the time will soon come when the citizens of Georgia will not be compelled to send either down to : the opposite side of the Globe, to Eng land, or to Kentucky, for an article . which can be made at their own doors for ) half the price which they now pay for it.” ( New Cotton Press. I We have been invited to examine at l the store of S. H. Fisk, Esq., of this i town a new Cotton Press, which for neat- I ness, compactness and beauty of opera- s tion, exceeds any thing we have yet seen. I It is the invention of a Mr. Parker, of i Saccarappa, Maine, and it may fairly be f said that it needs no improvement or al- s teration. It applies a pressure of more c than one hundred tons to a bale of cotton, without the application of any other £ power than that of the hand, and the f operation of pressing is performed with- 1 out the least noise or inconvenience. p ■';r ' ■■■a-ap— -r. =■— — The Press is a species of rectangular frame, strongly reinforced with iron, I which rests on one floor of the store and extends through an aperture fitted to re ceive it in the floor above. Below are 'two doors on horizontal hinges, which being closed, form two sides of the box, !or space into which the bale is finally 'compressed. Here the bagging to re ceive the cotton is placed, and from thence it is taken, the doors being opened. | This box or rectangular space, extends up to the second floor, and the whole jspace thus formed, is tilled with cotton | prior to compression. The efficient pow jer is composed of two upright wrought iron screws, moved by an appropriate system of gearing, to which motion is communicated by two cranks. The first movement of the impressing plate under these screws is comparatively rapid.— When, however, a great power is wanted, ia new system of wheels is brought into | play by a simple side movement of the jerank or axis, where the process goes on more slowly. Some fifteen bales of cot ton per day can be packed in this way. without the use of steam or water power. The packages formed by it average near 1 100 lbs. each, and can easily be increased to 450 or 500 pounds. They are by far the handsomest we ever saw any where. The freight charged on them is, to New York 25 cts. less per bale, and to Liver pool $1 less than of the solvency packed round bales. The invention promises to be one of great utility. It is extremely simple, and the only objection to it is the expense, which we believe is about $350. [Savannah Republican. Cure for Mange In Swine. A correspondent of the Maine Farmer says : Take raw tobacco, steeped in cold and strong chamber ley, pour off the clear liquor, then mix it, equal parts, with lamp oil, and then rub on the composition. It is a safe and sovereign remedy for mange, in all stages and all animals, brute or human. This ointment, if kept in a tight bottle, will keep good any length of time, ft should be well shaken together when used, for the parts soon separate when standing.— [Cent. N. Y. Farmer. Tlie Field of Tippecanoe. Our windings, however brought us to a sight mournful and solemn—a coffin in which rested an Indian babe! This rude coffin was supported in the crotch of a large tree, and secured from being dis placed by the wind, being only a rough trough dug out with a tomahawk, and in which was deposited the little one, and having another similar trough bound down over the body with strips of papaw. Sad seemed the dreamless sleep of the poor innocent so separate from the graves of its fathers and the children of its people! Mournful the voice of leaves whispering over the dead in that sacred tree! The rattling of naked branches there in the hoarse winds of winter!— how desolate! And yet if one after death could lie amid thick and spicy ever green branches near the dear friends left —instead of being locked in the damp j vault! or trodden like clay in the deep, deep grave! But would that be rebellion against the sentence “dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return ?”—then let our bodies be laid in the dark till the morning and the life! See! what woodland is that yon der ? That advanced like the apex of a triangle; and yet as we approach nearer and nearer, is rising up and has become an elevated plain ? That is Tippecanoe Yes! this is Tippecanoe, as it stooc some twelve years after the battle!—Tip pecanoe in its primitive and sacred wild- i ness! unscathed bv the axe, unmarked 1 by rods, unfenced! We are standing i and walking among the slain warriors! Can it be that I am he, who but yester- j day was roused from sleep to aid in “set- ] ting up the declaration of war against Great Britain,” to appear as an extra < and w ho, each subsequent week, thrilled as I “composed” in the “iron] stick” accounts of battles by land and i fights at sea ? —in the days of Maxwell r rollers and Ramage presses ! and hardy i pressmen in paper aprons and cloth trow- t sers? —long before the invasion of petti s coats and check aprons! Oh ! ye men and boys of ink and long \ primer!—how our spirits were stirred to i phrensy and swelled with burnings and c longings after fame !—w hile like trum- c peters calling to battle, wc scattered forth s our papers that woke up the souls of men! Then I heard of Harrison and Tippeca noe ; dreamed even by day of a majestic soldier seated on his charger, and his drawn sword flashing its lightenings, and his voice swelling over the din of battle like the blast of clarion !—and of painted warriors, like demons, rushing with the knife and tomahawk upon the white tents away, away off somewhere in the un known wilds, —of “shout, and groan and sabre stroke, and death-shots falling thick and fast as lightning from the mountain < cloud!”—And do 1 stand, and without a dream look on —Tippecanoe! < Even so! for see, here mouldering are i trunks of trees that formed the hasty i rampart! here the scars and seams in the I trees torn by balls!—ay ! here in this I narrow circle are skeletons of, let me count again, yes, of fourteen war horses ! ] But w’here are the riders ! Here under i this bench—see the record in the bark! i we stand on earth over the dead—“ rider I and horse, friend, foe—in one red burial i blent!” What is this! The iron band of a musket! See I have found a rusty bayo net ! Was it ever wet with blood? Perhaps it belonged to the brave soul about whom the squatter gave us the fol lowing anecdote: “A party of United States regulars were standing there, and with strict order for none to leave ranks. An Indian 1 crawled behind this large log—it’s pretty rotten now you sec—and here loading and fireing he killing four or five of us; while we daresn’t quit the ranks and kill him. But one of our chaps said to the nearest officer—‘Leftenint for Heavens sake gimme leaf to kill that red devil ahind the log, I’ll be in the ranks again in a minute ?’— ‘ My brave fellow,’ said the officer, ‘daren’t give you leave; I musnt see you go.’ And with that he walked offakeepin’ his back towards us, and when he turned and got back our soldier was in the ranks; but gentlemen, his bagnet was bloody, a deep groan from behind this here old log told the officer that the bagnit had silenced the rifle and avenged the fall of our messmates and comrades.” If the reader imagine a strip of wood land, triangular in form, its apex jutting a kind of promontory into the prairie whose long grass undulates like the wa ving of a island sea ; if on one side of this woody isle he imagines a streamlet about fifteen feet below and stealing along through the grass; and on the oth er side, here a mile and there two miles across the prarie, other woodlands hiding in their darkness the Wabash; and if he imagines that river at intervals gleaming in the meadow like illuminated parts merely of the grass lake, he may picture for himself something like Tippecanoe in the simplicity of “ uncurled” nature, and before it was married and .desecrated by man’s transformations. The first intimation of the coming bat tlers our squatter, who was in it, said, was from the waving grass. A sentinel hid that night in the darkness of the woods, was gazing in a kind of dreamy watchfulness over the prairie, admiring as many times before, the beauteous wa ving of its hazy bosom. But never had it seeme'd so strangely agitated ; a nar row and strong current was setting rap idly toward his post; and yet no violent wind to give the stream that direction. He became, first curious, soon, suspicious. Still nothing like danger appeared—no voice, no sound or footsteps, no whisper. Yet rapidly and steadily onward sets the current; its first ripples are breaking at his feet! He awakes all his senses—but discovers nothing; he strains his eyes over the top of the bending grass; and then—happy thought—he kneels on the earth and looks intently below the grass. Then indeed, he saw, not a windmoved i current, but indian warriors in a stooping i posture and stealing noiseless towards his ! post —a fatal and treacherous under cur- < rent in that waving grass! | The sentinel, sprang to his feet, cried i out, “ Who comes there?” z “Pattawatamie !” the answer, as an i Indian leaped with a yell from the grass, t and almost in contact with the soldier, s and then fell back with a death-scream d as the ball of the sentinel’s piece entered e the warrior’s heart, and gave thus the v signal for combat! is Our men may have slumbered ; for it t was a time of treaty and truce—but it was o in armour they lay and with ready weap- n ons in their hands; and it was to this pre- g caution of their general, we owe the i speedy defeat of the Indians; although h [One Dollar a Year. i not before they had killed about seventy of our little army. No one can proba bly describe the horrors of that night at tack—at least I shall not attempt it. It required the coolness and the delibera tion, and at the same time, the almost reckless daring and chivalrtc behaviour of the commander and his noble officers and associates, to foil such a foe, and at such a time even with the loss of so many brav > men of their small number. That the foe was defeated and driven off is proof enough to Western men—(if not to Eastern politicians who do battle on paper plains)—that all was anticipated and done by Harrison that was necessa ry. It would not become a work like this, which inexperienced folks may not think is quite as true as other histories, to meddle with the history of an honest President; but the writer knows, and on the best authority, that General Harrison did that night all that a wise, brave and benevolent soldier ought to do or could do, and among other things, that his per son was exposed in the fiercest and blood iest fights where balls repeatedly passed through his clothes and his cap. We lingered at Tippecanoe till the la test possible moment!—there was, in the wilderness of the battle-field—in my in timate acquaintance with some of its ac tors —in the living trees, scarred and hacked with bullet and hatchet, and mark ed with the names of the dead—in the wind so melancholy—something so like embodied trances, that I wandered the field all over, here standing on a grave, there resting on a decayed bulwark: now counting thq scars of trees, now the skel eton heads of horses; finding in one spot a remnant of some iron weapon, in anoth er, the bones of a slain soldier, dragged, perhaps, by wild beasts from his shallow grave!—till my young comrades insisted on our return if we expected to reach our friend’s house before the darkness of the night.— Carlton's Seven Years in the Far West. Social Intercourse. We should make it a principle to ex tend the hand of fellowship to every man who discharges faithfully his duties and mantains good order—who manifests a deep interest in the welfare of general society—whose deportment is upright, whose mind is intelligent, without stop ping to inquire whether he swings a ham mer or draws a thread. There is noth ing so distant from all rational claim as the reluctant, the backward sympathy— the forced smile—the checked conversa tion—the hesitating compliance, which the well off are two apt to manifest to those a little down, with whom in com parison of intellect and principles of vir tue, they frequently sink into insignifi cance. Old Age. Grieve not, reverend age, that beauty and brilliancy have left thee. Once in a summers night, the flowers glittered with dew in the moonbeams; and when day light drew nigh, they grieved that the lighfof the moon was gone, and with it the lustre of the dew drops. They thought not that after a little while, the sun would rise upon them, whose full beams would change those pearls into blazing dimonds. So shall it be with you, after a brief moment of darkness. By a late act of Congress, the widow of David Williams, one of the captors of Major Andre, who resides in the town of Boone, N. H., received about S2OOO. She is to receive S2OO a year, commenc ing at the time of her husband’s death, and the S2OOO was the amount due at the time the money was drawn. A Deed of Horror. The world was enveloped in the sable robes of midnight, and not a star glisten ed in the vauled arch above. The winds howled fiercely, and dismal and murky clouds flew in rapid succession through the whirling air, as the glare of the light ning and crash of the thunder mingled in at intervals, to render the scene more ter rific. At this dreadful hour, when half the world was wrapt in sleep, the fell as sassin, instigated with the feelings of a demon, arose from his bed, and proceed ed stealthily towards his unsuspecting victim. A pause ! all was dark ; no eye is near to witness the bloody tragedy— the bludgeon,is raised; a ghastly smile of revenge plays upon the face of tin murderer; the blow is struck ! a strug gle, a groan, and the largest kindoi a rat lies dead by the side of the ?rasto bucket. ■ yy -