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▲VAVBTA WA9BXMTOSTXAV. §i ©teiqp #snsrcff&s * SiriwirSf S® Sjgjftomllilmtpsll | Yol. II No. 3J.] at g»aslif*»®tonCair • ILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY oATUKDAY uorying, by MctAFI^ERTV, At the low price of on'B Dollar per annum for ; • i„ «,,l«criber. five dollars for a cluoot • C» « 0„b of iwel.o »b. ■en’hprs— naoment, in advance. sAU t>n nuSlB" by mail, a.lilrrsspd to the T naHisher, must I* poet paid to nmve turn |j- g v the rules of the Post-Office Departs meiit. Post masters may frank subscription, money tor Newspap rs. • I Advertisements will b > inserted at the follow- 1 I in, reduced rates: -For ofte square not. Xm carding twelve ,ines. 50 cents tor the first insertion, and twenty-five cents for each con-l tinuance, if published weekly; it semi-monthly , I 37*; and if monthly 43* cents, for.each con tinuance. Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount. IWCTWB—SM^'^ Fattening Wheat Plants. The Buffalo Advertiser contains many valuable editorial articles on the subject of the growth of grain,particularly wheat. Iti a recent number of that paper, the fol lowing curious remarks appeared, in rela- I tion to the improvements recently intro : duced into the culture of wheat: “The capacity of an acre ol land to produce wheat, oats, &c. is by later ac counts entirelv unsettled, it is sup plied with each of the constituted plants in due ■proportion , and under the tnosl favorable circumstances for the thick growth of wheat stalks, and for the full developetnent of long heads, well filled with plumi^'heavy kernels. Eighty-two [ bushels of wheat have already been har vested from ft single acre; and who can | my that a quarter more of grain titty not lie grown on an acre, either by a length ening of the ears of corn, (as the English cull wheat beads.) or by growing a great or number ? The. growing of wheat is like fattening pigs in a pen. With a plenty of good Indian pudding milk and water placed in tlie mouths of healthy swine, how many pounds of pork can possibly be made in a pen twenty tee! square ? Certainly, vastly more than is usually obtained front a pig-sty, of such dimensions. This is the way they grow and fatten wheat plants in England. They are most skilfully fed on all the food they can consume; and as above stated, the result is already eighty-two bushels to the acre. Cholic hi Horses. 7b the Editor of the Albany Cultivator: In your number for May, 1 notice an article on “Cholic in Horses,” and it gives much pleasure to be able to concur witli you most fully in regard to the severity and danger of the disease ; and for the most part, also in the treatment, which, so far as it goes, is in every res pect unexceptionable ; and I think it not improbable, that when resorted to in pro per season, will, as Mr. Stevens believed, succeed in eight cases out of nine. The ninth horse, however, ought to be saved, if possible, and as I freely believe that this last object may be attained in every true case of cholic, as that the first eight will be saved by the remedies pro posed. I cannot agree with you that the first object in the treatment is to arrest the fermentation, or that this is a prima ry cause of cholic, believing it to be only -one ot the consequences. However this may be, I would rather say that the first object is to allays their pain—to relieve that excrutiating agonv which is, I appre hend, the very first morbid change which takes place in cholic, and which being suspended, all other morbid phenomena subside oi course, unless disorganization of the intestines has already taken place. This object can always be attained by the proper use of opium—exhibited either alone or in combination with the stimu lants advised by Mr. Stewart. The last, however, I should think might be essen tial when there are evident symptoms ol exhaustion and prostration of strength. In cases of much severity, two ounces of a saturated tincture of opium, (lauda-; num,) may be given every hour, till the pain is relieved, and if the symptoms are , peculiarly distressing, three ounces may be given, once in twenty minutes. ; It the belly is distended and very hard . •a moderate bleeding may be conjoined j ■with this treatment with advantage. j I have known 8 ounces of laudanumji administered in two hours, with periect relief in a case of great severity, when all other remedies had tailed of even mitiga ting the symptoms. Very respectfully, East Windsor, 1843. 11. \\ atsox. To Gl’aft O.il Trees. Take a common steel-back saw, and jgrasping a limb, say from three-fourths !of an inch to an inch and a half in diatn [eter, with a little above where you wish jto cut it off, ply the saw. A man accus-j Jtomed to it will saw the limbs, set the; -cions, and wax two or three hundred I limbs, with two scions in each, in a day.i After the limb is cut olf, split it with a! large knife, driven by a mallet—taking! [care that the knife be held horizontal to! |the earth, and not perpendicular to it, asj the sap, in the latter case, will flow into; iihe lower side of the limb, and leave the! I upper scion lo die. After the split L made, drive a narrow wedge into the! icentro of the split in the limb, to keep it j open, while inserting the scions; then,] -[having whittled the scions with the outer! edge a little the thickest, insert them two Jin a stock. Then, taking a roll ot the. wax in the left hand, apply to the end ot .he stock, covering it over, and down the ! slits on either side of the limb, so as to cover all the wounds of the limb. Tin. wax is made of two ounces beeswax, two ounces tallow, and ten of rosin, melted well together and run off into cold water To use it, it should be put into a kettle of warm water, and may be kept from . sticking to (he hands by the use of lard free from salt ; salt will be liable to kill s i he scions. —Olive Branch. ’ ~ lla¥\£® 'm n ~ From the Votin'; Lady s Friend. 1 JL 3 The Duel. EV TUF, EDITOR OF ZIONS HERALD AND JOUUN.tr. 1 i The Rev. Mr. M was a veteran iitinerant preacher 91 the West. He re jfated many incidents of bis itinerant life, .j Among them was the following, which 1 s | give in his own words as much as possi -1! About four miles from X is anex ( tensive grove, well known as the scene of ~ | several fatal duels. As I passed it one ,[morning on my way to my appointment Jin that town, I perceived a horse and ve [,!hide among the trees, guarded by a so lidary man, who appeared to be the driver. |.My suspicions were immediately excited. |[hut I rode on.—About a mile beyond 1 j met another carriage containing four per -3 sons besides the driver, and hastening I with all speed. My fears were confirmed, and I could scarcely doubt that another scene of blood was about to be enacted in these quiet 1 solitudes.—What was my duty in the 1 case I knew too well the tenacity of those 1 fictitious and absurd sentiments of honor ■ which prevailed in that section of the ( country, and which give to the duel a 1 character of exalted chivalry, to suppose • that my interference could lie successful. 1 yet I thought it was my duly to rebuke - the sin it I could not prevent it; and in , the name of the Lord I would do it. 1 immediately wheeled about and returned ! with the utmost speed to the grove. - The second carriage had arrived and 1 was fastened to a tree. I rode up, at- I lached rny horse near it, and throwing - the driver a piece of silver, requested him ■to guard him. While treading rny way into the forest, my' thoughts were in* • tensely agitated to know how to present mvselt most successfully. The occasion ' admitted ot no delay. 1 hastened on and soon emerged into an oval space surroun : dedon all sides by dense woods. At the ■ opposite extremity stood the principals i their boots drawn over their pantaloons their coats, vest and hats off) handker chiefs tied over their heads, and tightly belting their waists. A friend and a sur geon were conversing with each, while the seconds were about midway between :hem, arranging the dreadful" conflict. One of the principals the challenger, ap peared but twenty years of age. His countenance was singularly expressive of sensibility, but also of cool determina tion. The other had a stout ruffian-like 1 bearing—-a countenance easy but sinister and heartless, and lie seemed impatient l to wreak his vengeance upon his antago nist. j I advanced immediately on the seconds i and declared at once my character and I object. “Gentlemen,” said I, “excuse 1 my intrusion. lam a minister of the gospel. I know not the merits of this s AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, JANUARY G, 1844. I quarrel, but both niv heart and my office j require me to bring about a reconciliation j (between the parties, if possible. “Sir,” replied one of them, “the ut most has been done to effect it, without success, and this is no place to'make far ther attempts.” “Under any circumstances, in any place, gentlemen,” I replied, “it is ap- 1 jpropriate to prevent murder, and such, in the sight of God, is the deed you are aid ing. It must not be, gentlemen. In the name of the law which prohibits it—in jthe name of your friends the principals— in the name of God who looks down on; you in this solitary place, I beseech you; (prevent it at once; at least, wash your; own hands from the blood of these men.: Retire from the field and refuse to assist; in their mutual murder.” I My emphatic remonstrance had a mo-; mentnry effect. They seemed not indis posed to come to terms, if I could get the jconcurrenco of the principals. I passed immediately to the oldest of them. His countenance became more ■ repulsive as I approached him. It was !deeply pitted with the small pox, and ’ j there was upon it the most cold-blooded leer I ever saw on a human face. He 1 had given the challenge. I besought him ; by every consideration of humanity and 1 morality to recall it. I referred to the youth and inexperience of his antagonist I—tho 1 —tho conciliatory disposition of the se • cowls—the fearful consequences to his > soul if he should fall, and the withering remorse which must ever follow him il I he should kill tho young man. He evi dently thirsted for the blood of his antag ' onist, hut observing that his friend and the surgeon seconded my reasoning, he replied, with undissembled reluctrfnce, that he gave the challenge for sufficient reasons, and that if those reasons were removed, he might recall it, hut not olh ierwise. I passed to the other. I admonished | him of the sin he was about to perpetrate. ! 1 referred to his probable domestic rcla ■ tions, and the allusion touched his heart. • He suddenly wiped a tear funn his eye. I *‘\cs sir,” said he, “there arc hearts - which would break if they knew I was here. I referred toinv conversation with the seconds, and the oilier principal, and I remarked that nothing was now necessa ■ ry to efleet a reconciliation hut a retrnc t tion of the language which had offended - his antagonist. “Sir,” he replied, plant • ing his foot lirmlv on tho ground, and as • -.tuning a look which would have been • sublime in a better cause, “Sir I have ut i tered nothing but the truth respecting • that man, and though 1 sink into the t grave, I will not sanction his villainous character by a retraction.” I reasoned with increased vehemence, I hut no appeal to his judgement or his 1 heart could shake his desperate firmness. ‘ and I left him with tears which I have ' no doubt he would have shared under ' other circumstances. What could I do ■ further? 1 appealed again to the first 1 principal, hut he spurned me with a cool smile. I flew to the seconds and entreat . ed them on any terms to adjust tho mat • ter, and save the shedding of blood. But 1 they had already measured the ground and were ready to place the principals. I “Gentlemen,” said I, “the blood of this dreadful deed be upon your souls. 1 I have acquitted myself of it.” I then proceeded from the area toward my horse. What were my emotions as I turned 1 away in despair? What! thought I. must the duel proceed? Is there no ex pedient to prevent it ? In a few minutes one or both of these men mav he in eter nity, accursed forever with blood-guilti ness ! Can I not pluck them as brands from the burning? My spirit was in a tumult of anxiety: in a moment, and just as the principals were taking their positions, I was on the ground. Stand ing 011 the line between them, I exclaim ed, “111 the name of God, I adjure you ;o stop this murderous work. It must not, it cannot proceed.” “Knock him down,” cried the elder duellist, with a fearful imprecation. “Sir,” exclaimed the younger, “ I appreciate your motives, but I demand of you to interfere no more; with our arrangements.” The seconds; seized me by the arms and compelled me; toretire. But I warned them at every! step. Never before did I feel so deeply I the value and hazard of the human souk My remarks were without effect, except 1 in one of the friends of the younger prin-i cipal. “This is a horible place,” said ! he, “I cannot endure it,” and he turnedN with me from the scene. “Now then for it,” cried one of the seconds, as they returned. “ Take your ; [places.” Shudderingly I hastened my i pace to escape the result. i “ One—two”—and the next sound was i lost in the explosion of the pistols! “O God,” shrieked a voice of agonv ! I turn--; ed round. The younger principal, with]: his hand to his face, shrieked again,ji quivered, and fell tothe ground ! I rush-[I ed to him. With one hand he clung to the;i earth, the fingers penetrating the sod, 1 while with the other he grasped his left I jaw, which was shattered with a horrid i wound. I turned with faintness from the : -ight. The charge had passed through i [the left side of the mouth, crossing the j teeth, severing the jugular, and passing [out at the back part of the head, laying; open entirely one side of the face and j neck. In this ghastly wound, amid blood j and teeth, had he fixed his grasp] with a tenacity’ which could not he mov-j ed. Bleeding profusely and convulsive! with agony, he lay for several minutes.] the most frightful spectacle I had ever witnessed. The countenances of the] spectators expressed a conscious relief ■ when it was announced bv the surgeon ! | that death had ended the scene. Mean l j while the murderer and his party had left •[the ground. i[ One of the company was despatched I on my horse to communicate the dread : ltd news to the family’. The dead young' i man was cleaned from his blood and . borne immediately to his carriage. I ac-! - companted it. It stopped before a small ; hut elegant house. The driver ran to fi he door and rapped. An elderly lady . opened it, with frantic agitation, at the in - stant that we were lifting the ghastly re- I mains from the carriage. She gazed for a moment as if thunderstruck, and fell . fainting in the doorway. A servant re- I moved her into the parlor, and as we pass ; ed with the corpse into a neat room, 1 . observed her extended on a sofa, as pale as her hapless son. I We placed the corpse on the table, . with the stiffened hand still grasping the ■ ! wound, when a young lady neatly attired! .jin white, and with a face delicately beau-1 . tiful, rushed frantically into the room « and threw her arms round it, weeping] « with uncontrollable emotion, and e.\-[ i claiming with an agony of feeling, “My] I mother! rny dear, dear brother! Can it] . be—O,can it be?” The attendants tore .[iter away. I shall never forget the look | of utter wretchedness she wore as they . led her away—her eyes dissolved in tears. . and her bosom stained with her brother’s i blood. The unfortunate man was of Ncw ; England origin. He had settled in the - town of X—, where his business had > prospered so well that he had invited his mother and sister to reside with him.— , His home endeared by gentleness and s love, and every temporal comfort, was a . scene of unalloyed happiness, but in an > evil hour he yielded to a local and absurd r prejudice—a sentiment of honor falsely iso called, which his education should t have taught him todispise. He was less | excusable than his malicious murderer, . for he had more light and better senti . ments. This one step ruined him and II his happy family. He was interred the 11 next day, with the regrets of the whole . [community'. s His mother never left the house till she | was carried to her grave to be laid by I the side of her son. She died after a de , lerious fever of two weeks’ duration, | ] throughout which she ceased not to im .ipioro the attendants, with tears, to pre . serve her hapless son from the hands of ; assassins, who she imagined, kept him . concealed for their murderous purpose. His sister still lives, but poor and broken i neat led. Her beauty and energies have been wasted by sorrow, and she is depend | enton others for her daily bread. I have heard some uncertain reports of his antagonist, the most probable of ! which is, that he died three years after, i of the yellow fever, in New Orleans, ra ging with the horrors of remorse. Such was the local estimation of this bloody deed that scarcely an effort was made to bring him to justice. Alas, for the influ ence of fashionable opinion ! It can si jlence by its dictates the laws of man and of God, and exalt murder to the glory of [chivalry. Female beauty au Ornament. ! The ladies in Japan gild their teeth, i and those of the Indies paint them red. i I’iie pearl of teeth must be dyed black ; to be beautiful in Guzerat.—ln Green land the ladies color their faces with blue and yellow. However fresh the com plexion of a Muscovite may be, she would i think herself very ugly if she was not plastered otfer with paint .---The Chinese [Oae Dollar a Year. jmust have their feet as diminutive as those of the she-coat’s, and to render 'them thus their youth is passed in torture, in ancient Persia an acqualinc nose was jalways thought worthy of the crown ; and if there was any competition between 'two princes, the people generally went jby this criterion of Majesty. In some countries the mothers break the noses of their children, and others press the head between two boards, that it may become square. The modern Persians have a 'strong aversion to red hair, the Turks, on the contrary, are warm admirers of it. In China, small round eyes are liked, and ; the girls are continually plucking their ieyebrows that they may be thin and long. ]The Turkish women dip a gold brush in ;the tincture of a black drug ; which they | pass over their eyebrows ; it is too visi ble by day, but looks shining by night; they tinge their nails with a rose color. Au African beauty must have small eyes, [thich lips, a large flat nose, and a skin {beautifully black. The Emperor of Mo ’ nomotapa would not change his amiable negress for the most brilliant European beauty. An ornament for the nose ap pears to us perfectly unnecessary. The Peruvians, however, think otherwise, and I they hang on it a weighty ring, the thick : ness of which is proportioned by the rank ;of their husbands. The custom of boring I jit, as our ladies do their ears, is very common in several nations. Through ! the perforation are hung various materi ' als—gold, stones, a single, and sometimes a great number of gold rings. In Holland, that beehive of industry, • every available source of servico is made I use of, so that dogs, and even goats, are , not suffered to pick the bona or cat the bread of idleness. Most of the little wares and merchandizes, vegetables, turf, • and particularly fish, are drawn by the former who are properly harnessed for the occasion to little carts, and according as the carts vary in size and are laden, | the dogs are put to in proportion, so that Isometimes there are six dogs harnessed i to a cart, thren abreast, whilst the goats : are yoked to iniantmc waggons and cur • j rides, to air and exercise little children. It is really aslonishing to see the weight i these animals will draw; nothing can ex -1 ceed their docility ; and for their labour, the Hollander (who is remarkable for his humanity to the dumb creation) feeds them well, and lodges them in his own . house very comfortably. Owing to the great care paid to their dogs, the canine madness seldom appears among them; 1 on Sundays they are permitted to refresh I and enjoy themselves, and never show ; any disposition to escape from their lot. Hibernian Ilumor. I remember an anecdote which Cover. , nor Clinton and General Morton used to I tell with great gusto. On some occasion they took a boat at White Hall, to cross I over to see one of the islands in the bay. , It so happened that the boatman was from the Emerald Isle. “ away, my lad,” said Gen. Mor- I ton, we’re in a hurry.” , “Yis, Gineral,” replied Pat, pulling , away lustily at the oar. “ You call me General—how do you , know who I am ?” asked Morton. “ Know you!” exclaimed Pat, “ What a blockhead your honor must take me to be, not to know the great Gineral Morton ’ the pride of the Battery and the great little god of war. “ Ha, ha,” cried out the Governor, , “ there you’re caught,” General. But pray, my friend, do ynu know who I am?” “ Why, to-be-sure I do,” says Pat, “the , renowned Governor Clinton, the Irish man’s real friend. Not know ye ! don’t I pray for ye both every night ? And . was not the last boy we had christened by the name of De Witt Clinton Gineral Morton O’Neill! and is’nt it happy his mother would be this night, if she had a pair of shoes and stockings to put on the cratur?” Double fare and good supply of shoe and stockings sent thelhumble ndmesako of the great O’Neill to his home a happy follow that day. Two young men commenced the sail making business at Philadelphia, They bought a lot of canvass of Stephen Girard on credit, and a friend had engaged to endorse for them. Each caught a roll and were carrying it off, when Girard re marked— ‘ Had you not better get a dray ?’ ‘ No; it is not far, and we can carry it ourselves.” * Tell your friend he needn’t endorse your note—l’ll tokfe it without.”