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AtTCTOSTA WABBXI6YOirXAI. .^^VVVkV\^VVV^VVV\VVV\VW\'VVV»\VVXVVW , . a ©tea® #®wsl® ; Srtwtesr 5® ®s?famJtwtralt sm® IJWsmKHwmMs me&Wws®. f ’ Vol. II No. 3l'l Zhc g^asMitatoman WILI. BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, BY JAMES MeCAFFERTV, At the low price of one dollar pi'r annum, for a single subscriber, five dollars for a club of six, or ten dollars for a club of twelve sub scribers — payment, in advance. All Communications, by mail, addressed to the publisher, must be post paid to receive atten tion. By the rules of the Post-Oflice Depart ment, Post masters may frank subscription money for Newspapers. Advertisements will be inserted at the follow ing reduced rates: —For one square, not ex ceeding twelve lines. f>o cents for the first insertion, and twentv-fivc cents for each con tinuance, if published weekly ; if semi-monthly 37i ; and if monthly 43| cents, for each con 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.