Augusta Washingtonian. (Augusta, Ga.) 1843-1845, October 21, 1843, Image 1
AUGUSTA WASHINGTONIAN.
U ©teas® U Msf JESswEsmidm®
Vol. II No. 20.]
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I""
Improvement ol Corn, Wheat, A’c.
■To the Editor of the American Fanner :
I hud the pleasure, a few days ago, of
■showing you a couple of stalks of corn,
Mcach containing seven perfect cars. They
Jwere taken from a field of twenty-five
Jacres on the farm of (Jen. T. M. For
liiian, of Cecil county, Md., and were a
■fair sample of the crop. General For
man informed me that he had many years
ago adopted the plan of selecting his seed
corn, always taking it from the stalks that
have the greatest number of perfect ears;
and that by continuing this practice lie
has brought hi* corn to the high quality
represented by the specimens alluded to.
This has been uniformly the result with
all who have poseveringly practiced it.
The first, 1 b.dieve, to do so, was Mr.
Cooper of New Jersey, forty or fifty years
since; then the “Maryland twin corn”
was produced by some gentlemen on the
Eastern shore : then the Baden corn was
announced, and the Mercer corn, also ; all
were produced in the same wav. Gene
ral Forman intends to measure an acre,
which shall be a fair sample of the whole
field, and let us know the quantity of shel
led corn it shall have produced ; this will
enable our farmers to compare the pro
duct of this corn with that of the com
mon kinds.
A word or two on the utility of attend
ing to such things by our farmers. The
wonder is that every body does not do it,
and the only reason I can suggest for its
not being done, is, that people are not
generally aware, that all kinds of plants
may he improved by careful attention to
breeding , just as much as animals are.
There are at this day very few farmers
so ignorant as not to know that their hor
ses, eattle, sheep and hogs, are wonder
fully improved by a judicious selection of
breeders. You will scarcely find a farm
er now that does not improve his stock by
this means. I need not enlarge on this
fact. But where are they that improve
their corn and wheat, and rye and oats,
in the same way ? —They are only found
here and there, and so seldom, that they
are considered prodigies. Every body,
almost, when he wants an improved arti
cle of this kind, purchases some celebra
ted kind for trial, which may or may not
be what is represented, or may or may not
rsuit his soil or his climate ; but never
thinks of improving what he has already!
got. No one ever thinks of crossing the
breed of his corn, wheat, rye or oats, and
thus improving them ; and very few even
take the trouble of selecting the best of
that which they have for seed. Let me
assure our farmers that they can improve
. their corn and all other crops by cross
breeding, ju3t as easily as they can their
animals. They can change the size and
color of the cob ; make the corn early or
late, yellow or white, soft or flinty ; all by
cross breeding, with no cost and very lit
tle trouble.
Generali}*, all that is done to improve
our crops is by manuring the land and
cultivating the growing plants. Now for
a moment let us see how it would do in
improving animals, merely to feed them
well and give them good stabling, paying
no attention at all to the selection of breed
ers. All will admit that stock raised and
kept in this way would soon, “run out,”
no matter how good it may have been at
the beginning. Well, what is high feed
ing of stock but analagous to high man
uring of land ? The one feeds the cattle,
1 ithe other feeds the crops; neither does t
iany thing more than supply the wants of c
The individual animal or plant. It does i
not and cannot change the character or']
quality of its progeny. When feeding , g
j either of plants or animals, does all it can, a
it does no more than simply keep the in- n
'dividual* as they were, in reference to v
their natures—it generally produces a r
good crop, or a fat animal, and that is all. s
“But,” I anticipate I shall be asked, jv
!“7iok; are we to improve our corn, wheat, a
,&e. by cross breeding !” v
Wheat, rye and oats may all be treated s
!alike —and the process given for one will l
answer for all. Take several good kinds t
iof wheat, bald headed and bearded, blue t
istem, purple stem, red and white, five or c
jsix kinds in all; mix them together thor-ji
oughly, and sow the parcel in some good e
iground at a considerable distance from s
any other wheat field. At harvest timer
go into the field and select the best heads, I
j those that are largest, best filled, and that
;contain the best grains, on the shortest
and robust stalks, and keep the seed for
another year’s sowing. The next year !
iat harvest make the same selection for I
: seed. Continue this selection for two or '
■ three years, and then you will find you
; ; will have a wonderfully improved variety 1
of wheat. But to keep the quality of j'
; j this new wheat up to its standard, and;
to continue the improvement, you 1
’ j ought always to select a quantity for theji
succeeding year’s in the same way. This
’ is not as troublesome as at first sight it.
' appears to bo. A half a bushel or a bush- j
l !el of seed wheat may easily be selected!
'in this way in a few hours—hours that j 1
s i possibly might not have been devoted to
1 as profitable employment.
I The cross breeding of corn requires a 1
J little more trouble. You have an exccl
’ ilent kind of corn, but it is late in matur
ing and has rather a large cob. Select
•isorne other kind of corn that ripens as :
I I early as you desire, and has the right siz- 1
’ jedcob. Plant your late kind as early in; I
.the spring as you can, in every alternate j 1
J I hill, leaving the other hills vacant. At a,
! later period, say 20 to 30 days later, (ac- ; 1
3 j cording to the difference between the two
s i kinds,) plant the vacant hills with the car-[
*I ly com. The place of the experiment
■'should l»c remote from anv other corn!
’ field. Cultivate both in the usual way, l
3 1 until you observe the tassels of the early) l
kind beginning to push. Then carefully
cut out all the tassels of this early kind— 1
|do nothing to the late kind. Watchcare- >
■jftillyand cutout all tassels as they ap- 1
pear from this kind. When the corn is
' ripe, select all the good ears of the early
’ kind for next year’s planting. Plant this j
\ selected seed in the usual way the second
s |year, and when ripe select the best ears of.
1 the earliest ripening. You will find in ,
these cars a variety of grains in shape *
} and color, and of different quality—there |
1 will be grains resembling both original (
' parent stocks. Now select the grains
* that suit you. All the grains will pro-,
' dace a small cob and early corn; but |
' some of the grain on the cobs may be j
' small and inferior like the original par- (
'jent; therefore on this the third year, se- (
Meet the grains. Generally this third plant- .
“ ing will establish the variety ; but the bet- )
vter way is to continue to select your seed |
every year. You may now select seed ;
with a view to increasing the number of ,
’ ears to the stalk ; but take care to avoid (
' selecting small ears simply because there (
' j are many on the stalk. If you find a stalk (
' with three full sized ears, it is better to ,
1 j take them than those from a stalk that has (
i four small ones.
By these means corn is susceptible of ,
•‘almost any degree of improvement and (
'jchangeof character, and I am fully satis- (
J'fied that there is no one branch of agri-
‘ culture that would so well pay for the (
; small amount of labor and attention re-!
‘ quired.
i H 1
Easy method of i>ropagating Fruit Trees. :
Let your graft, which I shall call the 1
‘ mother graft, be put in a stock as thick as 1
a man’s thumb, and inserted in the usual 1
manner, and as near the earth as con
venient. The first year, if your graft i
■ take kindly to the stock, it will grow seve
ral feet; the second year it will grow to
' a good size for transplanting, and in the c
i spring following, before the sap begins to t
run, take up the stock and graft, and re- t
plant it, say nine inches deeper than the s
juncture of the graft with the stock, c
The graft will soon take to growing, and r
will be fit (in the course of a year or two) c
for transplanting again, first having saw- t
ed off the graft from the stock, the graft
having by this time a sufficient number s
of roots to support itself. Upon the fu-)s
AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21. 1843.
lure tree, the idea solely depends for sue- (
cess; but of this there cannot be a doubt. <
if the mode here prescribed be pursued, f
The pear, quince, cherry and plum, are i
great scion yielders; and I believe the t
apple, our most generally useful fruit, (
might he made to produce in the same I
way, if the ground around were dug eve- i
ry three or four years. By this mode i
some hundreds and thousands of the most t
valuable kinds of fruit might be raised, i
and with the least possible trouble; for i
while the mother graft lives, all of its de- l
scendants would be of the improved kind. ;
I have often wished ihc delightful pear
tree of my garden, had been served in i
this manner. It now points out hundreds! I
of scions, all of which, if this mode had|i
been adopted, could ho planted as bear- i
ers, without any thing more being neces- s
sarv.— Delaware Gazelle. i
m UL m a _
Anecdote ( f George Herbert.
Walking to Salisbury one day he sawj
a poor man with a poorer horse, that was
fallen under his load; they were both in
distress, and needed present help, which
Mr. Herbert perceiving, put off his can
onical coat and helped the poor man to
unload and after to load his horse. The
poor man blessed him for it, and he bless
ed the poor man; and was so like the
good Samaritan that he gave him money
to refresh both himself and his horse;
{and told him, that “If he loved himself
he should he merciful to his beast.”
I Thus he left the poor man, and at his
coming to his musical friends at Salisbury,
they began to wonder that Mr. George
Herbert, who used to be so trim and
clean, came into that company so soiled
.and discomposed; but he told them the
occasion. And when one of the com
pany told him “ho had disparaged him
self by so dirty an employment,” his an
swer was, “that the thought of what he
| had done would prove music to him at
midnight, and that the omission of it would
have upbraided and made discord in his
conscience, whensoever he should pass by
i that place ; for if I be bound to pray for
|all that be in distress, lam sure that lam
|bound, so far as it is in my power, to
{practise what I pray for. And though I
•do not wish for the like occasion every
!day, yet let me tell you, I would not wil
lingly pass one day of my life without
comforting a sad soul, or showing mercy ;
and I praise God for this occasion. And
now let us tune our instruments.”
The Obstinate Animal.
A knowledge of the habits of animals
is sometimes of great service, even in the
saving of cities. James, in his recent
History of the Black Prince, gives an
amusing instance of this in the defence
of Itennes, a town of Britanny, besieged
by the Duke of Lancaster. In order to
effect the surrender of the place, the
Duke enforced a strict blockade, which
soon reduced the garrison to great straits; j
but he knew they would hold out to the)
last extremity, and determined to tiy a!
trick of war. For this purpose, he drew:
ofT his soldiers, as if he had left the place,!
and formed an ambuscade in some hushes)
behind the town. He then caused a num-j
ber of hogs to he turned loose in the plain,!
in the hope that the starving garrison'
would rush out for their prize. But they
understood his trick, and turned to their!
own advantage. They opened one of!
the sally-ports, and hung up a young
sow by the hind legs to the lintel. She
of course made a great outcry, and the
hogs came rushing up to the place from
whence the noise proceeded : she was!
then cut down and driven through one
of the streets, and forced to keep up her
music. The soldiers sprang up from
their ambuscade, in order to try, and if
possible prevent this unlooked for termi-i
nation of their experiment; but James
says, the hogs, with that intuitive percep
tion of the way their masters do not wish
them to go, which has ever marked their
nature, went rushing tumultuously into
the town, and afforded the garrison very
seasonable relief.
James Whitney.
This notorious person, who was exe
cuted in 1694, for robbery, was bred a
butcher, and it is said that hi s first at
tempt at crime consisted in an effort to!'
steal a calf. He and a companion had '
endeavored, in the course of a certain <
morning, to purchase the calf; but as the i
owner demanded an exorbitant price, i
they determined to steal it the next night.
It happened to be very dark, but, after '
some parley, Whitney agreed to enter the
stable and seize the animal, while his ]
companion watched without. He enter
ed accordingly, and began feeling about
for his prey. He soon felt something
rough, and taking it for the calf, began
tickling it, in order to make it rise. Sud
denly, the animal seemed to get upon its
hind legs, and anon grasping Whitney
with its fore paws, gave him a most se
vere hug. In this posture, he was forced
to stand, lost in astonishment, unable to
move, and afraid to cry out, lest he should
alarm the inkeeper or some of the family ;
the thief without, wondering all the time
at his delay.
The latter at length, putting his head
in at the door, said, “What is it that
keeps you ? Arc we to be all night steal
ing a calf?” “A calf!”exclaimed Whit
ney; “why, I believe it is the Imp him
self; for he has got his paws about me,
and keeps me so close that I can’t stir a
step.” “Pooh !” cried the other ; “what i
nonsense; but imp or no imp, I should
like to see him—so make haste, and fetch j
him out at once.”
Whitney was too much alarmed to be
pleased with this jesting tone, and imme
diately rejoined, impatiently, “Oh, do be
quiet, and come to my assistance, for I
don’t half like him.” The other accord
ingly entered, and after a little examina
tion, they discovered, to their amazement,
that they were deceived.
It seems that a muzzled bear, belong
ing to an itinerant showman, having been
accidently placed in the stable during the
day, the calf had been removed to make
room for him. By their joint efforts,
Whitney got relieved from the bear’s
! grasp, when Nbtli made off with all speed,
| half resolved never again to try their
hand at thieving, since the trade had had
so luckless a beginning.
What is it to be I*olltc t
Politeness is a delicate regard to the
feelings of others. It docs not consist
in civil bows, or graceful wavings of the
hand, or a courtly bearing of the body,
or in flattering speeches; it lies rather in
avoiding rude and offensive speeches, in
avoiding offensive habits, and in adopting
ja general course of conduct calculated
to gratify and please those around us.
We sometimes see people who pretend
to be very polite; who bow and say flat
tering things, and affect an air of polish
and refinement; and who arc yet haugh
ty, and seem to say, by their airs, “We
arc better than you arc!” Now, what
ever these people may pretend to be, they
are not polite—they are, rather, coarse
minded, vulgar, disagreeable, people; they
are at once ill-bred, hypocritical and wick
ed. They pretend to be what they are
not; they are filled with self-conceit, and
are really desirous of wounding the feel
ings of others, by making them feel hum
hied in their presence Nothing can be
more offensive than sucli manners.
A truly polite person endeavors to put
| all at case around him. If he is learned,
in the presence of the unlettered he does
| not set off his knowledge ;ifhe is better
j dressed than those around him, he does
I not direct attention to this fact, but leads
jto other topics of consideration ; if he is
i handsome, he acts as if he did not know
it; if he is of a higher station in life than
others who may be present, lie still treats
jail with due attention and kindness.
The source of politeness is the heart.
If the heart is good—if it is full of gentle
ness, kindness, tenderness and grace, the
■ face, the hands, the form, will all unite
jto express it. The manners of a person
set forth his heart; they tell talcs out of
!school, and let everybody look into the
bosom. If a person is always saying
j malicious, ill-natured things, we know
'that the heart is ill-natured and malicious.
If the countenance, has a severe, harsh,
and unkind expression, wc do not doubt
[that it is an index to the heart. As the
poi liters of a clock show how the machine
ry moves within—telling of every revo
lution, down even to the ticking of sec
onds—so the manners tell the beatings of
the bosom, and show to the eye of the
skilful observer, all that is going on there.
Some persons fancy that politeness im
plies insincerity ; they imagine that it re
quires a certain degree of pretence, flat
tery and gloss. This is a mistake. Po- (
liteness, like every other virtue, may be
[carried to excess, and thus become vici
ous or false. Politeness never calls up
on us to sacrifice sincerity; it never re-i
quires us to say or do or pretend what is■
not true. It commands us to keep ourj
manners void of offence ; and the best
way to do this, is to keep a heart void of,
offence. If we feel pleasantly, kindly, j
benevolently, we shall be very apt to ap
pear pleasantly, kindly, benevolently. If
\
[One Dollar a Year.
by any means we have adopted a bad
habit-—if we have become satirical—if
we have fallen into the practice of telling
tales of others, or exaggerating the faults
of others, or taking pleasure in telling
scandalous tales of others, the moment
we become apprized of it, we should
break off such bad habits.
I sometimes fancy that young people —
even some of my blue-eyed and black
cved friends—hardly think that they are
| bound to be polite : but, lot me tell you,
:my dear children, that now is the very
! time to begin to establish the habit of pay
ing attention to the feelings of others.
Let me beg of you, therefore, always—
at the table, in the street, in the parlor, at
church, with the young and the old—be
polite ; by which I mean, be regardful of
he feelings of others.
What is Ilabit.
When wo have done a thing several
limes, it becomes easier for us to doit
than before. When a boy begins to use
. profane words, he does it with a feeling
. of awkwardness. The first time lie swears,
. he usually feels quite badly.
But he swears tiie second time more
. easily, and more easily still the third time.
At last he does it without any bad feeling,
and, indeed, takes a pleasure in his pro
fanity. He has now got a habit of swear
ing, and it is easier for him to use bad
, language than any other.
, It is just the same with lying. A child
j feels very badly when he tells the first
lie. He feels badly, too, when he tells
s jt he second ; but when he has told a dozen
Jor two, he usually tells a lie as easily as
r lie tells the truth ; and the reason is that
j he has got a habit of lying.
Habit is, then, a disposition, an incli
nation to do a thing, arising from prac
tice. It is said that practice makes per
- feet; by which it is meant that a person
• docs a thing easily which he has doncof
' ten.
i Now some very important inferences
i are to he drawn from this. If a person
i docs evil repeatedly, he gets a habit of it,
5 and it becomes natural, easy for him to
Ido evil; and the longer a person goes on
| in this habit, the more easy it is for him to
1 do evil, and the more difficult to do well.
■ What a fearful thing it is, therefore, to
i get any Imd habit!
It is the same with good habits as had
: ones—they tend to control us and guide
- our conduct. If a person does good re
peatedly, it becomes a habit with him to
■ do good ; it is easy for him to do good,
and difficult to do wrong. What an im
■ portant thing it is to have good habits !
Now, my dear reader, remember that
1 every day you are forming habits, good
• or bad ; you are every day making it ea
• sier to do evil or to do well. Habits are
■ like railroad tracks, upon which wc move
quickly, easily, and rapidly. Let us all
I take care that our habits lead in a right
, direction, and end in peace and not in
s sorrow.
i Washington at the Communion,
s While the American army, under the
i command of Washington, lay encamped
• in the environs of Morristown, N. J., it
i occurred that the service of the commu
-5 nion (there observed semi-annually only)
was to be administered in the Presbyte
. rian Church of that village. On a morn
- ing of the previous week, the General
; after his accustomed inspection of the
• camp, visited the house of the Rev. Dr.
i Jones, then pastor of that church, and af
' ter the usual preliminaries, thus accost
• ed him ; “Doctor, I understand that the
r Lord’s supper is to be celebrated with you
next Sunday; I would learn if it accords
. with the canons of your church to admit
, communicants of another denomination?”
t The Doctor rejoined, “Most certainly ;
; ours is not the Presbyterian (able, Gene
. ral, but the Lord’s table; and we' hence
. give the Lord’s invitation to all his follow
. ers of whatever name.” The General
f replied, “I am glad of it; that is as it
; ought to he; blit as I was not quite sure
of the tact, I thought I would ascertain
. it from yourself, as I propose to join with
you on that occasion. Though a mem
ber of the Church of England, I have
no exclusive partialities.” The Doctor
ire-assured him of a cordial welcome, and
the Gfencral was found seated with the
.'communicants the next Sabbath.
, j - ■■
f
ij Lieutenant OTlrten.— When lieu
tenant O’Brien was blown up in the Ed
gar, and carried to the Admiral, black and
wet, be said with pleasantry, “I hope, sir,
i you will excuse my dirty appearance, for
I left the ship in .so great a hurry that I
had not time to change myselt.”