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Vol. II No. 3l'l
Zhc g^asMitatoman
WILI. BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY
MORNING, BY
JAMES MeCAFFERTV,
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tinuance.
Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount.
;
From the Memphis (Tennessee) Enquirer.
Interesting to Cotton Growers.
Panola Co., Miss., 26th Jan. 1843.
Mr. Editor, —It is usual for cotton
growers to sun their cotton as they gath-j
or it, and thou gin it as early as possible.
This, according to tny judgment and ex
perience, is clearly wrong. Cotton should
never be sunned, unless it be such as has
been gathered quite wet with rain; nor
should it be ginned until it has been heat
ed.
Heat diffuses oil, and we know there is
a large quantity in cotton seed. Now,
-sir, put it together as you gather it, both
morning and evening, and there is suffi
cient moisture to make it heat. This be
ing the case, the oil in the seed is diffused
through the lint—for it cannot evaporate.
When it remains in this situation a suffi
cient length of time to spoil the seed, the
cotton should then he thrown lip and cool
ed. Care should be taken not to let it
turn blue: this, however, is not so easily!
done as you might suppose.
The process of turning over and throw
ing up will likely have to be repeated two
or three times before (he seed are entire
ly spoiled. The trouble of overturning
and tossing it up in the cotton or gin house
is not greater than sunning it on a scaf
fold. By this process you gain the
weight of the oil which is diffused through
out the lint, and which gives the cotton
the only gold color which is desirable, and
also that elasticity and adhesive quality,
like wool, which never fails to enhance
its value.
But, sir, there are other advantages
growing out of this operation; the gin
will pick it at least one-sixth faster, and
clean the seed, and instead, of cutting off
short particles, as is always the case when
the cotton is open and fresh, the saws
take it off in large flakes, thereby making
the staple longer and stronger.
Every farmer knows that his early cot
ton outweighs, and has better staple than
his late cotton ; and he also knows that
the earlier it is gathered after it opens
the better. Now, sir, these facts show
the correctness of my theory ; for expo
sure to the sun and rains evaporates the
oil from the seed and makes the lint short
and light.
Farmers should secure in drynveather
and from evening pickings, in a house to
itself, or a portion of the gin, sufficient of ,
dry good cotton, to make seed, but the i
balance of their crop they should be sure
to subject to the process of heating and
cooling in the shade. It is said that the
British East India cotton is vastly infe 1
rior to ours at present. If we can make 1
our cotton still better, the danger from 1
that quarter will be lessened.
i
From the S. C. Temperance Advocate. <
Mr. Editor: —The following was pre- ;
pared for the Newberry Agricultural So - (
defy, in August 1842, but owing to the 1
press of other matters, it was not read.
I have to-day accidentally laid my hands (
wpon it. I send it to you for the Advo- <
cate. October 6th, 1843. f
The undersigned having intended to <
compete for the prize for Wheat; but 1
having by some strange mistake supposed, i
that the result of an acre was required for ■
that purpose, when in point of fact five (
acres should have been measured, ascer- s
taiaed alooe the product of a single acre. 5
1 But as he thinks his crop was improved
b}- the mode of culture, he begs leave to
state the same, and the result, so that if
there be any thing of value in it, his
brother farmers may have the benefit
of it.
The first week in October, eighteen
bushels of Holland Wheat, and two bush
els of Black Sea Wheat, well saturated!
with Blue Stone, were sown upon about!
twenty acres of land. Eighteen acres!
had been in cultivation, about eleven,
years. The other two acres were very
old land. All of it was stiff red land.,
Upon the whole was sown Cotton seed,!
at the rate of about twenty bushels to the
acre, except upon the two acres of very
old land, upon that was sown about a wa
, gon load of Cotton seed, here the Black
Sea Wheat was sown ; the seed of it was
mixed, and very inferior, having for the
two preceding years had the rust. The
whole was ploughed in, and then rolled.
In February, five bushels of slacked ashes
|>cr acre, were sown upon the wheat. An
acre of the Holland Wheat was selectedj
;and measured, it produced twenty bush
els and one peek. The whole crop of
Holland Wheat was two hundred and
three bushels, and that of the Black Sea
W heat twenty two bushels. The latter
was not at all affected by the rust. The
rest ot the crop was slightly affected by
it. Whether the exemption of the Black
i Sea A\ heat from rust, this year, is to be
I ascribed to the large quantity of Cotton
seed sown, will require further experi
■: ments to decide. The vaiuc of the dress-
I ing with ashes was very apparent, and 1
- am persuaded double the quantity per
' acre would answer still better.
In December, I sowed a small quanti
fy of Wheat, the toll of some ground for
• Col. Peter Hair. It was sown in Cot
, ton ground. The greater part of the seed
i was rolled in wet lime so as to incrust
the seed, as far as that extended, there
was not the least smut. Three or four
I lauds were sown with the seed, without
being rolled with lime, and they were lull
•of smut. 'Phis little experiment goes far
! to shew, that lime is an antidote to smut.
• Ihe Wheat grew vigorously, and made
an ordinary average crop of wheat for
this section. lam persuaded, that a lit
tle attention to the culture of wheat will
in a few years enable us to raise our aver
' age crops, from eight to twenty bushels
per acre.
John Belton O’Nkall.
August 1843.
Swiaey ia the Horse.
Messrs. Editors —l will give you such
information or experience as 1 possess,
concerning the swiney. I had a mare
that became swineyed in the hip, occa
sioned by fighting with another horse. I
was told the part affected never would
till up, unless by the operation of some
medicine. I therefore bathed the part ef
fected with saltpetre, dissolved in water,
and affected a complete cure.
Lansingville.
Lansing , N. Y., Aug. 18, 1843.
Milk, fever in the Cow.
Cows in high condition and great milk
ers arc most subject to it after calving.
The animal is restless, paws, and heaves
at the flanks, the mouth open and tongue
out. The bag becomes enlarged. From
6 to 10 quarts of blood should be taken,
as this must be done as soon as the cow
is perceived to be effected. A pound or 1
a pound and a half of salts must be given
to her, and half pound doses must be re- 1
peated every 6 hours. Should the case 1
not be taken in time, and the animal is in
great weakness, she must not then be \
bled. Milk fever is sometimes epidemic. '
Receipt for Curing Hams. i
We have been handed the following
receipt for curing hams by one of the i
most eminent practitioners in this city; I
the saleratus is at least new to us, and I
we therefore publish it although it may i
not be a new ingredient in the receipt to J
others. In Cincinnati, where barge quan- i
tities of hams are annually cured, pepper, 1
allspice, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, and i
other little ingredients are usually added ;
but to the receipt: t
Cover the bottom of the cask with £
coarse salt, lay on the hams with the t
smooth or skin side down, sprinkle over i
fine salt, then another layer of hams, and 1
so continue until the cask is full. This c
ought to be of the larger kind. A cask c
holding 64 gallons is small enough, and a
it would be better if it held 120 gallons. L
Make a brine in the following manner : p
6 gallons water, 9 lbs. salt, 4 lbs. brown fc
sugar, 3 oz. saltpetre, 1 oz. saleratus. I:
Scald and skim, and when cold pour the h
AUGUSA, GA. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28. 1843.
brine into the cask until the hams are
| completely covered. The hams should
remain in this pickle at least three months,
and a little longer would do them no harm.
Fowls and Chickens, to fallen in four '
or five days. —Set rice over the fire, with
skimmed milk, only as much as will serve
| one day. Let it boil till the rice is quite
i swelled out; add a tea-spoonful or two'
of sugar. Feed them three times a day, '
|in common pans, giving them only as
much as will quite fill'them at once.
1 ash well the pans before tbeding again,
!as the pans must not be sour. Give them
jclear water or the milk of rice. One
' pound of rice will go a long way A lit- j
tie broken charcoal will increase their
appetite.
From the LaGranire Herald.
°
The Mechanics of Georgia.
I There is not a class of people in the
. State of Georgia, so much oppressed as
■I the hard-working mechanics. They live
! and move in our villages, and cities—
conduct themselves uprightly—are stca
. dy—and a large number of them intel
, lectual and worthy citizens; but, what
of that ? Are they supported in their
. honest endeavors to provide for them
> selves and family ? Or, are not their cf
, forts thwarted by the aristocracy, to such
. an extent, as to keep them hack and pre
vent them from moving upon the same
I level with the rest of their fellow-citizens ?
r It is fearfully true that the mechanic has
suffered seriously ; and, his sufferings are
. in consequence of a want of opprecia
. tion on the part of his fellow citizens.
How is the mechanic oppressed ! is a
I question that may arise, from the forego-
I ing remarks: We answer, that he is op.
. pressed, first because many of our citi
. zeus, (during the sitting of the Legisla
ture, when the Penitentiary goods are
I sold,) either visit, or appoint an agent to
. visit Milledgevillc, for the purpose of pur
chasing carriages, buggies, sulkies, wag
, ons, (Jersey or road,) ready made cloth
. ing, boots and shoes, household and kitch
. en furniture, (such as come under the de
nomination of Cabinet work.) harness,
saddles, bridles, martingals, stone work,
, and many other things not necessary to
be mentioned. These articles are all of
fered, at public outcry, to the highest bid
der—and arc sold, whether they bring
much or little. And, it is of but little
consequence to the purchaser, whether
his neighbor at home, is perishing for the
want of his patronage or not, so that he
is able to obtain an articic abroad, that
costs him something less than it would at
home. Besides, he is vain enough to
think, that, because the article was pur
chased at New York, Jersey city, Phila
delphia, or at the Milledgeville Peniten
tiary, it is of heller quality, heller make,
better style, and more fashionable.—This!
is a fatal error, existing among many of
our fellow-citizens. It is a ruinous error;
one that is calculated to ruin our State. |
Our mechanics arc already leaving this
State for the West; looking out new
homes; seeking for equal incurs. We
shall soon be left without enough to car
ry on the common business of our sever
al communities. Something must be
done, to prevent them from leaving us,
and to restore to them our patronage.
2nd. The labor of the mechanic is un
der-rated ; he is jewed, screwed, and beat;
down to the lowest possible notch, and is 1
then told that the article can be purchas-i
ed elsewhere at a lower rate; or that such I
a negro (it matters not whether free, ora ,
slave,) will, do the work at a much low- I
er price.
3rd. When the mechanic may chance j<
to get a job of work—and presents his |
bill for payment, he is abruptly told thatjl
the account is too large, and that it will i
not be settled, short ot the legal provi-!
sions: the poor mechanic is driven, from!
necessity, to receive just such amount as!;
his oppressive customer may think pro- 1 1
per to pay him. ,
With all these provoking circumstan
ces, the poor mechanic is prepared to;;
abandon himself to his fate, if he re-j
mains in the country, or seek employment i
in a more philanthropic State. Thus,!
he is driven from his home—from his c
country —from his friends—front his place
ot nativity, and is exiled to a distant land, c
among strangers, where lie has but little
hope of better success, unless he should 1
possibly pitch his tent in a land of socia- c
bility, benevolence and charity. But, \
before the mechanic leaves his country, r
he reflects upon his happy home, (though la
humble it is still his home,) and, the ma- j
ny inconveniences he would necessarily
bo compelled to contend with—and every
thing else combined—all tend to bind
him strongly with us ; and, thus he ru
minates, and years tell away, and he is
still as poor, and oppressed as ever.
He looks around ; and behold ! he sees
on every hand, a penitentiary convict en
gaged at work; who is ready and willing
to \vork at any price, and at any place—
cares not for character—cares not for so
ciety—looks not for the good of the com
munity ; and still he is preferred, in pre
ference to the poor, honest mechanic.
Such considerations as these are well cal
culated to deject and distract any and
every honest, and highminded tradesman
We arc not willing that the mechanics
shall leave us; hut do wc encourage them
to remain ? No—we neither encourage
: or support them—we have forgotten their
importance. In fact, we cannot dispense
with them ; hut, still, we do not offer
them an inducement to stay. We ask,
then, why is it that something cannot lie
- done for this useful class of people? Can
‘| nothing be done? We answer yes—tiie
remedy is at hand. Let the next Legis
lature abolish all kinds of mechanicism
in the Penitentiary ; convert it. into a
1 State Prison, or Lunatic Asylum.
1 Let criminals be kept in solitary confine
ment, it it is designed that punishment
' be inflicted for crimes perpetrated—for,
1 it is now conceded and admitted to be a
fact, that labor is not punishment. Be
t sides, it is not denied that the Penitentia
ry of Georgia, at this time, is not only a
15 place of merchandise, but also a place of
cruelty and barbarity ; and docs not meet
the intentions of the law upon the subject.
Let the impression once be circulated
1 abroad, throughout Georgia, that the cri
minal shall he punished by solitary con
■ hnement, instead of years of labor, and
' wc will hazard the assertion that there
' will not be, from that period, one half the
1 crimes committed, as is under the pre
' sent organization.
Will any other press in Georgia take
sides with the oppressed mechanics ? Wc
■ wait to hear from them.
Andrew Fuller.
, “I don’t know,” said a gentleman to
Jtho late Andrew Fuller, “how it is that I
Jean remember your sermons better than
.!thosc of any other minister, hut such is
. the fact.” “I cannot tell,” replied Mr.
r Fuller, “unless it be owing to simplicity
,of arrangement; I pay particular atten
. lion to this part of composition, always
placing things together which arc related
to each other, and that naturally follow
each other in succession. For instance,
added lie, suppose I were to say to my
servant, “Betty, you must go and buy
some butter, and starch, and cream, and
soap, and tea, and blue, and sugar, and
cakes,’ Betty would be apt to say, ‘Mas
ter, I shall never remember all these.’
But suppose I were to say, ‘Betty you
■ know your mistress is going to have
friends to tea to-morrow, and that you
are going to wash the day following; and
that for the tea party, you will want tea,
and sugar; and cream and cakes and
butter; and for the washing you will
want soap, and starch and blue;’ Betty
would instantly reply, ‘Yes master, I can
now remember them all very well ?”
Old Habits.
A gentleman one day overtook a tra
veller moving very slowly along under
the great inconvenience of a heavy stone
in his pocket.
“My friend,” said the gentleman, as
he observed the stone w eighing his coat
down on one side and greatly impeding
his progress, “why do you travel with
such a heavy burden at your side ! I per
ccivc you walk with much difficulty.”
“What! this stone in my pocket,” said
| he, “I w'ould not part with it for any
thing.”
“Would not! why ?” said the other.
“Why !” said he, “because my father
land my grandfather carried it before me;
j they got along very well with it, and I j
wish to follow their steps.” ;
“Do you derive any benefit from it ?” i
asked the gentleman. ‘
“None, that I know of, only keeping <
up the good custom,” said he. i
“Did they derive any ?” asked the oth- s
cr. s
“I don’t kmnv, only they always carri- t
cd it,” said he, “and so will I.” c
The gentleman walked on, saying to 3
himself, “I love, indeed, to see the good
old customs of our fathers honored, if it
were only out of respect to their memo- 1
ry ; but, really, if my father had carried \
a stone in his pocket, I think I should pay /
' r ; . ' '4-—■■■ -
[One Dollar a Year.
greater respect to his memory in laying
jit aside, and saying nothing about it, than
by carrying such a testimony of his frail
ty with me through life.”
As he still walked on, he began to
think, “now this man, unwise as he seems,
is not more so than many others, perhaps
not more so than myself.”
So he began to cast about in his mind,
; what habits he had which were no better
• than stones in his pocket.
•j “Here, in the„ first place,” said he, “is
the use of tobacco, chewing, smoking,
taking snuff—old habits—of what use
arc they to me? Mere stones in my
pocket—worse than that—they injure my
i health, render me disagreeable, are the
opposite of neatness. I’ll away with
; them all. Here is the snuff-box—stay—
iit bears my father’s name. Well, the
*j snuff may goto the four winds. The
i box, I will lay aside, but tobacco, in any
-of its forms, I will use no more. Thanks
r to protecting Providence, my father left
j no tippling habits to ruin me, and stain
- his memory. Now there is one stone
i thrown away, and if I have any more bad
c habits kept up for custom’s sake, how
- much soever I may have become attach
'i ed to them, I desire they may share tho
3 same fate.”
A Rcautiful Thought,
it How few men sccin to have formed a
•, conception of the original dignity of their
a nature, or the exalted design of their crca
tion, regarding themselves as only the
.- creatures of time, endowed merely with
i the animal passions, and intellectual fa
f culties : their projects, aims and expec
t lations, are circumscribed by tho narrow
outline of human life. They forget that
(] instability and decay are written as with
. a sun-beam, upon all earthly objects—
- that this world, with all its pageantry and
d pomp and power, is crumbling to tho
e dust—that the present life is scarcely de
e serving of a thought, excepting as it
- forms the introduction to another, and
that he alone acts a prudent or rational
e part, who frames his plans with a direct
3 reference to that future and endless state
of being. Sin has so blinded the under
standing and perverted the will, and de
based the affections*, that men never fail
j to invest some temporal good with fanci
ed perfection, and idly imagine that the
attainment of it would satisfy the desires
s and fill the capacities of the immortal
* spirit. Vain thought! How little they
know themselves! The soul is not of
;!earth, and they will strive in vain to chain
i it to the dust. Though its native strength
1 has been impaired, and its purity tarnish
' ed, and its ‘glory changed,’ it will always
’be a prisoner here. Send it forth as you
will to range the whole material universe ;
j and like the dove dismissed from the ark,
I >f will return tvithout finding a single
place to rest—for it has no resting place,
j but tho bosom of God.
1 Napoleon and the terriQed Artist.
Just before Napoleon set out for Bel
! Sjum, he sent for the cleverest artist of
his class in Paris, and demanded of him
! whether he would engage to make a coal
of mail to be worn under tho ordinarv
dress, which should be absolutely bullet,
proof; and that, if so, he might name his
own price for such a work. The man
engaged to make the desired object, ifal
lowcd proper time and he named eighteen
thousand francs as the price of it. The
■ bargain was concluded, and, in due time,
the work was produced, and its maker
honoured with a second audience of the
Emperor. “Now,” said his imperial ma
jesty, “put it on.” The man did so. “As
I am to stake my life on its efficacy, you
will, I suppose, have no objection to do
the same.” And he took a brace of pis
tols and prepared to discharge one at tho
breast of the astonished “artist.” There
was no retreating however, and, half dead
with fear, he stood the fire, and to the in
finite credit of his work, with perfect im
punity. But the Emperor was not cor.-
sent with the trial; he fired the second
pistol at the back of the trembling artist,
and afterwards discharged a fowling-piece
at another part of him with similareffect.
“Well,” said the Emperor, “you have pro
duced a capital work, undoubtedly—what
is to be the price of it ?” Eighteen thou
sand francs was named as the agreed
I here is an order for them,” said
the Emperor, “and here is another of an
equal sum, for the fright I have givei?
you. — Nap. Anec.
1 Shall I have your hand?’ said a New
\ ork exquisite to a belle, as the dance
was about commencing. ‘ With all my
heart,' was the soft response.