Augusta Washingtonian. (Augusta, Ga.) 1843-1845, September 09, 1843, Image 1

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. - --.-.1...- v IWW vx V' V > -' ' ' \\\\\\\l x % v\w V ' . ■ 1 v v ■\\»l\ >». V . , , . «« « - .» . > ~ ~ _ ® <fcip.#3#Et i® fe?fcmittJm« Msf %mMms C Vol. II No. 14.] <rfie dtasMugtoiifan be PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, BY : JAMES McCAFKERTY, f i At the low price of one dollar jx*r annum, for | a single subscriber, f;ve dollars for a club of . six, or ten dollars for a club of twelve sub- . scribers —payment, in adrance. All Communications, by mail, addressed to the | publisher, must he post paid to receive atten- ; m tion. By the rules of the Post-Office Depart- , M tnent, Post masters may frank subscription , money for Newspapers. I Advertisements will be inserted at the follow- i I ing reduced rates:—For one square, not ox- J cceding twelve lines, 50 cents for the first ■ - insertion, and twenty-five cents for each con ln. tinuance, if published weekly; ifsemi-monthlv 1 f ■* 37J; and if unfnthly 43f cents, foreach con- I tinuance. Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount. ; -•-Z.jp > ' r' pPf 3- *- Fruit Garden,,Orchard, aud Flower Gar- J dens. August is the most suitable time for I buding apples, pears, plums, cherries, nec i tarines, apricots, &c. Keep the ground entirely dear among the seedling and small trees. Transplant from the I seedling beds the various kinds of annual, I biennial, and paretmial flowers, that 1 were tiot transplanted last month. Plant ] your bulbs which may be out of the ground, such as crocuses, colcluchens, narcissus, amaryllis, frittiliarias, crown imperials, snow-drops, lilies, irises, and martagons. ' Also take up, separate, and transplant the roots of pieonias, flagirises, and other tuberous-rooted flowers, whose leaves are decayed. Suckers that have been thrown up from fibrous-rooted plants can be ta ken off and transplanted. Collect and transplant flowering plants from the woods and fields, removing them with a ball of earth, and cutting off. the flowering stems, if thore are any. Water freely all newly.planted flower-roots; cut down the stems of those that have bloomed; loosen i tho earth about potted plants. Trim and [ tic up straggling plants, and inoculate all you wish to propagate in that way. Gath er flower seed as they ripen but let them remain in the pods until the. season for sowing.— American Agriculturist. Tan Bark lor Apple Trees. A correspondent from Sherburne, who has a tan yard, recommends covering the soil under apple trees with tan bark, to keep away worms. lie says he has tried this for several years, and he is satisfied it ‘ has a very good effect on his trees. The canker worms prevailed to a very great extent but latterly they have disappeared. He covered the soil at first for the purpose of destroying the grass under his trees, and ho finds that in about three years the bark began to turn to earth, and he found that the roots of his trees were creeping up to the surface ofthe decayed tan bark. We should like to have more of our readers try tan hark under their trees, where it is not convenient to run a plow, it will at least convert the natural sward to manure, if thore is no other virtue in it. [Mods. Ploughman. . ltuta Baga. A late fall turnip, and of late introduc tion into America, has a smooth leaf like a cabbage, and is known in the state of; New-York by the name ofthe yellow Rus sia turnip. There are other varieties similar, which have a leaf of a yellowish green, while the leaf of the rutabaga is ofa bluish green, like the green of peas ' when nearly full grown, or like the green j of a young and thrifty early York cabbage. ' Tho outside ofthe bulb of the rutabaga ' is ol a greenish hue, mixed towards the top with a colour bordering on a red; and the inside ofthe bulb, if the sort be true ' and genuine, is ofa deep yellow. The time of sowing in the state of ' New-York is from the twenty-fifth of June ' to the tenth of July; but as our seasons here are much longer, and the latter part ofthe summer generally hot and dry, it would be advisable not to sow sooner than the twentieth of July, and not later than the middle of August.— Southern Gard ner. j i Sowing Clover in Autumn. Messrs. Editors :—You may perhaps recollect that in August, 1841, I made some inquiries with regard to sowing clo- l ver in the fall ofthe year, on the dry san-ji AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9 1843. dy soils, and mentioned I had a field con-i taining 22 acres, sandy soil, which I in tended to try byway of experiment. I applied 100 loads of barn-yard manure, and plowed it in the spring of 1840, and planted it with corn ; yielded from 30 to 40 bushels per acre. Next spring sowed it with oats; had a middling crop. I ap plied 100 loads more of barn-yard manure afrer oat harvest, and plowed it under, and sowed the field with wheat and rye; after harrpwing in the grain, I sowed clover and timothy seed, and went over tho field with a bush and I have now a fine field| |of clover and timothy, large enough to! mow. I think*it will do well to sowclo-j ver seed early in the tall, on dry sandy j soil, if a little manure is .applied previous! to sowing, as I have frequently known itj to fail when sown in the spring.—Ameri can Agriculturist. Soaking Corn for Horses. A gentleman who resides in Baltimore; county, and who is one ofthe most sue-! cessful farmers in our vicinity, informed; us a few days since, that he saved at least! one third of his corn by the manner in which he fed it out to his horses. He has two hogsheads placed in his cellar, where they are secure from freezing. These he first fills with corn in the ear, then pours in a sufficient quantity of water to cover the corn. Alter the ears have been thoroughly soaked he commences feeding; gives to his horses two-thirds ofthe usual quantity allowed. As one of these hogs heads become empty, he refills it; and by the time the other is empty the last filled is sufficiently soaked for use.—ln this way the cobs become so softened that the horses consume tho whole of them, and they are thus made to add fully one third to his stock of food. He assures us that the horses eat the cobs with avidity, keep in good order, and are just as competent to perform plantation labor as when they consumed the grain alone. Tho success of our informant should stimulate his .ag ricultural brethren to follow his example, as the labor of preparation is nothing com pared with the great saving effected. [Baltimore Farmer. Feeding Horses. Various opinions are entertained as to the best and most economical mode of feeding horses, and many experiments are on record, that have been instituted to set tle the question. The result seems to be, that at the ordinary prices of grain and hay, it is cheeper to keep horses on grain, than on hav, or on hay and grain. There is another important matter to bo consid ered, however, and that is, is feeding en tirely with grain, as conducive to the health of the animal, as a mixture of hay and grain? We do not believe it to be ; and the general result ofthe experiments has been to show that it is not. Our own experience too, would lead us to speak decidedly upon this point. We have tried feeding horses upon grain alone, and upon grain and hay, and found the latter the best for the animals. They were not so shrunk up or gaunt, there was more muscle and consequently more weight and whatever may be thought of this lat ter quality in a race-horse, where nothing but sinews and bones arc required, every farmer knows that the road or farm horse, is worth but little without weight. Feed ing horses on grain alone, is like keeping a man on wheat bread solely; he will live for a time, but will finally sink under the experiment. In this case, the finer the flour the worse for the man. We have never had horses in better condition j for labour, than when we have fed them | with cut wheat straw, wet up in a tub with Indian corn meal. It is evident there must be some proportion between the bulk and the nutritive power offood, and grain alone gives two much nutritive matter for 'the bulk. Oats, perhaps, approach near jer the standard than any other grain; but j the use of these alone, will in a long run jbe found unadvisable. One of the most carefully conducted ex periments we have noticed, was the one made by Mr. Brotherton, near Liverpool; and he came to the conclusion that horses cannot be kept in a condition fit for work, if fed on grain alone. For nine years, ! Mr. Brotherton allowed eight horses three | bushels of oats and one of beans, but no i hay or chaff. During this period he an nually lost more or less horses, which he attributed to the quantity of grain being j greater than the stomach could digest.— This induced him to adopt feeding hay with his grain, in the following propor jtion: To eight horses he allowed one bushel of oats, one bushel of beans, and three bushels cut hay, straw or clover; ; and he found them better able to do their jwork than before, and for several years after adopting the plan, lost but one horse from disease. Farmers, we are confident, have much to learn on the subject of feed ing animals, and the health and good con dition of the latter will, we doubt not, be found compatible with greater degrees of economy than has generally been prac tised.—Cultivator. Wounds <.s■ Bruises on Horses, —Take ; ■ one quarter of a pound of saltpetre, half a | jpint ofvinegar, half a pint dr spirits of tur pentine ; put them together in a bottle, jand shake up before using. Apply it to the wound with a feather, tb’ee times a ! day. - JM3®eiELILAME©iy)B» Generous Comluet. We find in a late number of the Bos !Cultivator, the following interesting an joedote, which we perceive, by the initials jused, relates to a gentleman in an adjoin ing town —and is honorable to himself land to human nature: 1 “Some forty yeitrs ago there dived a ( small family not a thousand miles South ‘ of Boston, in comfortable circumstances. ' The father for their support relied upon ! the income of a very small place and the labor of his hands. The father died, leav -1 ing a widow and a family of little child | ren. The place belonged to the widow in her own right;—with the income, of ' this, and occasional small loans, the widow struggled, as none but a mother ' can, to rear her little family. One by one the children left the parental roof, as j they became large enough to provide for themselves—last of all, the only son went to sea, leaving his mother, now past the 1 meridian of life, in feeble health, in pos -1 session of the homestead, which had be -1 come heavily incumbered. Time rolled on. The mortgage, with ’ the accumulated interest, fell into the hands of one, who had no mercy on the ’ poor, and soon the old widow was nolifi - cd she must leave the roof under which she had reared her little family, hallowed as it was, by all the associations of early life. The times were hard, and friends > few, and the old lady hardly dared to f breath her sorrow and troubles to the ; world, yet there was one, of whoso good . deeds she had heard in her early days, to , whose foreman she concluded she would 1 tell the story of her wrong. She did so. , He immediately informed J. W. of her > case—said he to his foreman, tell the . widow from me, that her estate is ample . security to Mr. C., and that she shall noi > he harmed, that I will take a mortgage of r her place, pay her debts, and that she may ; pay me when and as she pleases. This - was all done, and the old lone widow was l again established in a quiet home. c Several years passed, neither.interest or » principle was paid, and the whole transac -1 tion had become nearly forgotten in the r midst of the vast monied transactions of t her benevolent benefactor. When, on a • sudden, there entered his counting room, in Boston, a well dressed gentleman, of . frank and open manners, who had evi r dently seen much of the world, and having ascertained that ho stood in the presence , of him, who had for many years provided . a home for the old widow, the stranger, r bursting into tears, said, ‘ Sir, that poor i woman you have so long befriended, is r my mother, I am her only son, I have ■ sought you to pay you your debt and many • years interest, and to make such further compensation as you may bo induced to i receive.’ .After the moment of surprise had pass : cd, and the transaction been fully called to : mind, one of the wealthiest and most use ful men in the State replied: ‘Sir, I am • very glad to see you—if I have been of any service to your mother I am happy for it. What I have done was no incon i venience to me, and to see you, sir, an only son, thus returned homo to provide ■ ibr and take care of an aged mother, gives 1 me greater pleasure than any payment ; you can make me.’ The son insisted upon paying the debt , and interest , which at last the benefactor of his mother was induced to receive.— i Sufficient to say, the mortgage was dis | charged, the mother’s last days made hap py under her own roof, with none to mo lest or make her afraid.” Ilevenge. Many years since a gentleman of New', ington, the Second Parish of Wethersfield, Conn., who was a very religious and con scientious man, married for a wife, one of the most ill-natured and troublesome women which could be found in the vicini ty. This occasioned universal surprise |c wherever he was known, and one of his il neighbors ventured to ask him tbe reasonsjc which governed his choice. The gen- A tleuian replied, that having had but little ti or no trouble in the wmrld, he was fearful fi ofbecoming too much attached to tilings b of time and sense. And he thought by o (experiencing some afflictions, he should 1 jbecome more weaned from the world, and t jthat he married such a woman as he c thought would accomplish the object. 1 'l'he best part of the story is, that the wife j ’ hearing of the reasons why ho married t 1 her, was much offended, and out of re i vetige, became one of the most pleasant ' jand dutiful wives in the town, declaring r 'that she was not going to make a pack ( horse to carry her husband to heaven. 1 [Hayward's (N. E.) Gazetteer. Inquisitive Jack. j A STOBY ABOUT THE BEETLES. j One day, as Jack was going along in 1 ’ the field, he saw a dead mole iying upon * the ground, lie took it up, and admired 1 its soft fur, and the rays upon its nose. : making it look, in shape, like a star. He \ 1 looked also very carefully to see if it had * eyes, for he had been told that moles j were blind. ’ After looking all over the head of the 1 mole, Jack at last discovered two iittle ‘ eyes, as black and shining as beads, very j near the creatures nose. They were ' deeply hidden in the fur, and for this reason it is that people say that a mole is blind. The reason for having their eyes so small, and so imbedded in fur. is this— they live under ground, and dig a great j deal in the earth ; it is therefore very ' well that they have sheltered ' with fur, so that the dirt may not get in- J to them. Having examined the mole some time, ‘ Jack threw it down and went along.— About two or three hours afterwards he 1 was coming back the same way. As he , was passing the dead mole, ho noticed , ' that it appeared to he sunk in the ground. : He stopped, and looked at it attentively, i ! Pretty soon he saw a large black bug, which wc call a beetle, creep from under * it, and run round it. s This attracted Jack’s attention, and ' kneeling down, he watched carefully to j see what was going on. After looking about a little, he noticed that there were 1 four or five beetles all at work, digging ' a hole under the mole, into which the ■ creature was gradually sinking. ! He lifted up the mole a little, so that he might observe them more carefully; but the creatures did not scein to mind * him. They went to work again immedi -1 ately, digging away the earth, which they ' threw out at the sides. It was amusing to see how hard they toiled. The heads of the beetles were shaped somewhat like a spade. With these they 1 dug up the cart!), and then clawed it * away with their feet. Never did a set of men, digging a cellar, appear more ac tive, busy and efficient. 1 Jack had always before hated beetles, ' as being ugly, disagreeable things; but now he was delighted to see them. He; immediately ran off to get his aunt Piper) ; to come and observe what was going on. ' She was very busy, but Jack persuaded ' her to go with him. ’ They soon came to the spot, and aunt ' Betsy now saw that what Jack had told j her was all true. The beetles were, in ! deed, burying the mole. ' “ But what are they doing it for ?—are)' * they sextons ?” said Jack. ji 1 “ They are called burying beetles ,” said j the aunt; “but, Jack, I shall leave youjl to find out yourself what they are bury ' ing the mole for.” So, after a time, Jack and his aunt L went away. The next day Jack went to ; the place, when, behold, the mole was not to be seen ! There was a little spot ! ' of fresh earth where it had lain, but that * 11 ( was ail. “So,” thought Jack to himself, “so.; ( ‘ neighbor beetles, I guess you have buried ’ the mole, —at any rate, we will see.” So s Jack began to dig away the earth a little 1 ‘ with his fingers, and about two inches I below the surface, there was the mole sure 1 ’ enough. The beetles were all around ' ’ the carcass, and every one of them was j ’at work, making a feast. Jack covered : up the hole, and left them all to them- 8 selves.— [Merry's Museum. Marie Antoinette. Courage, under any form, is captivating j , —a brave bird, a brave dog, a brave horse, t * and a brave boy, are always sure of sym- i ! pathy from the bystanders, however com- s ! posed. Much more surely does a woman’s < * courage, displayed in moments of peril. I [One Dollar a Year. carry away all hearts. A most stifkW illustration of this was afforded by the Queen of Louis XVI, Burke’s “ Marie Antoinette,” on the morning after the * terrible night at Versailles, when the fishwoman of Paris and a drunken niobf» broke into the palace and sought the life ofthe royal family, especially ofthe Queen. The heroism of the garde du corps , sta tioned at her door, who fell at his post, covered with wounds from a hundred hands, gave hey time to escape into an ad joining apartment, and the infuriated mob, on entering her chamber and finding her srone, plunged their weapons into her bed. The body guards, wherever found, were massacreed, or reserved for death, .-The Queen resolved oil an effort to save them. It is thus related by Adisoil,— N. Y. American. “ Notwithstanding the shots which were fired at the window, she persisted in ap pearing at. the balcony to endeavor to ob tain the pardon ofthe body guard:. When M. dc Luzerne endeavored to place him self between her and the' exasperated multitude, she gently removed him, alleg ing that that was her post, and the King could net afford to lose so faithful a servant. Shortly after, the crowd vociferously de manded that she should appear at the window; site came forth, accompanied with herchildren—twenty thousand voices immediately exclaimed, “Away with the children!” and the Queen sending them in, rc-appeared alone in the presence of a mob, from whom sho expected instant death. The generous contempt of per sonal danger overcame the populace, and universal shouts of applause testified their sense of the reality of the peril which she had braved.” To the Editor of Ike Camden Journo!: Dear Sir—The following is the copy of a letter written by my unfortunate bro ther, who fell a victim to Mexican cruelty, one hour before be was shot. It was sent to me by the Hon. Waddy Thomp son. If you think proper, you may publish the same. Yours, &c. George P. Cocke. “ Rancho Salado, March 25, 1843. “Dear Sir, —I have been doomed, among sixteen other comrades, to be shot at the very place where I fought, as well as I could, to t recover my liberty. It is now within one hour of the moment of death. If I know myself, I shall meet my kite with all the fortitude and grace be coming a man of pride and valor. “You will learu from others the details of our second capture—the command was nearly famished for want of water; in or der to obtain which, they separated into small parties of one, two, three, four and five, and straggled about whithersoever their imaginations led them to believe they could find water. But 93 out of about 190 composed the main body at the time of the surrender; and the condition of their surrender was, that they should bo treated (as before) as prisoners of war. None had gone without water for a less term than five days—and some had not had water for six and seven days—of course a fight was out of the question. “ Water, water, water,” was the universal cry—the men were totally unable to use their guns, and many had, in fact, thrown their guns away from inability to carry ■them. “h> rising upon the guard, I acted upon J a cherished principle of my life, namely : That one hour of liberty is worth an eter nity of bondage. I “I shall depend upon you to give my j friends an account of my fate. “Farewell, my dear sir. JAMES D. COCKE. Hon. Waddy Thompson.” Take Care Girls.—Silk whiskers iare imported in large quantities into this country. Do not be deceived, therefore, [dear lasses, by even the most glossy [curling. Turkish looking moustache or whisker, it may have been spun by a silk worm. The only safe rule in the premises is, when a beau, a la Mustapha , pops the question, justSspring at his whis kers and give them a hearty pull, if ho screams out in very agony, say yes—but if he does not seem to suffer much pain, but anxiously bids you tale care, let him alone—his whiskers were imported. [Columbia Planter. Backing “ One’s Friends.”—Doctor Alcott, who has written much, and well too, on the many injuries that women entail on themselves by their modern [style of costume, complains that “many |of our little school girls have “no bach s \to their seats.” -