Augusta Washingtonian. (Augusta, Ga.) 1843-1845, January 27, 1844, Image 1

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! AtmtriTA WABsiameHXAjrr it ©sums JFsnMH® SDaJjwrc: : prtroW to ©i?iK®iiDrrsn»» flgtrtotiaWmtmi!. sjotW JEtoirirEil&mttotG® s&rsMiwjssn* I Vol. II No. 34.1 •*. 4 ~«■* . • iis*Bf a-.>* fj ■-'■s'■ Xfi# *;'■ A ; ' ■ - 1 "” ,; Cfic JWasiiCiUJtoiuait tfILL BK PUBLISHED EVEKY SATURDAY MOENIXG, BY JAMES McCAFI'ERTY, %At the low pnee of one Dollar per annum, for M a single subscriber, five dollars for a club of jf s lj t orTES dollars for a club of twelve sub-; I scribers— payment, in advance. JKa.II Communications, by mail, addressed to the, publisher, must be post paid to receive atten tion. By the rules of the Post-Office Depart-' ment. Post masters may Prank subscription money for Newspapers. will be inserted at the follow- Jp ing reduced rates: -For one square, not ex tf[ reeding twelve lines. 50 cents tor the first [ insertion, and twenty-five cents for each con tinuance, if published weekly ; if semi-monthly 37|; and if monthly 43| cents, for each con- Jf tinuance. W'Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount. g TME FAftSo!l Ti a Take Card Should be the watchword of every far- There is no time to dispense with Sfet, from tho first day of January, to the last day of December. And yet, some would judge from the appearances about 12 the premises of some farmers, that they 9 hardly knew that those two words belong ed to the English language. To take eare of any thing, whether it be buildings, fences, crops, or animals, seems never to have entered their minds as a thing of any importance. And even among those who would probably like to be called pretty good farmers, there is too often a manifest disinclination to lake care. But! although they are two small words, and quickly told, the good or ill success ofj every farm r, depends in a great measure upon the observance or neglect of them. No great number of acres, nor any! amount of hard labor will enable any man to dispense with them If you would even raise a flock of chickens you must take,care of them. But little time is re- I qaired to raise a hundred, provided you have the necessary conveniences for tak ing care of them. If yon wish to raise a litter of fine, thrifty pigs, take care of them. While they run with their mother, she must have enough to eat, of something; w hen you take them off, they must be led not once or twice a day only, but five times at least—not twice as much as they can « eat at a time, but just as much as they can eat, and no more. If it is your intention to raise two or i t three or a half dozen calves, you may as well have good ones as poor ones, only * take rare of them. In the first place breed from the best stock you have, or can procure, and then feed regularly with a sufficient quantity o {’something, not so \ much matter what, they will readily K learn to eat almost any thing—sour milk B or whey, with a trifle of meal, answers a K good purpose, only let it be regular as to W time and quantity. “This pampering Band stuffing and over-feeding,” as Mr. ■ Bement says, is not the thing—it is no! ■ necessary. Good stock , can he raised I without it, even from our native breed.— I But a little care, especially the first sum- I mer and first winter, they must have. If you wish to have your fodder hold gout well, and your cattle in high order in ■ the spring, take care of them. Have ■ every animal in the stable if possible, not jf only nights, but cold stormy and windy iM days—feed little at a time and often, not I only night and morning, but through the f -day. ; If you wish to increase your quantity of manure, take care of it. Keep your cat y close in the yard, and put up e^ve || troughs to carry off the water, so that I there may be as little wash as possible. I If there is a drain at one side of your I yard where all the moisture runs oft. try I and prevent it. A speaker, in a late I agricultural address, says, “ you may as I we tl have a hole in your pocket, as a drain I from your barn yard.” If you would I raise good crops, take care of them. They must be fed as well as your cattle, or they will not grow. Plough thoroughly ; to cut and cover wont do, neither will you have a great crop of grain, and a very great crop of weeds at the same time. Have an eye to your fences—if a board gets loose, or a rail is ready to tumble off, try to find it out before your cattle do. If you have a family of children AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, JANUARY 27, 1841 jgrowing up, to take your place in this!; busy scene of things, when your race is i ran—you probably would be glad lohave!i jthem become wiser and better men and - j women, than their father and mother. I .Were before them—then take care of! e them. Feed and clothe their bodies dc-:< cently, but don’t forget to feed their! t minds. Give them all the'opportunitiesj; of a good and substantial education with-11 in your power. And whether they be male or female, and whether you expect ;to leave them rich or poor, learn them to j take care.—Central N. Y. Farmer. ( From the Maine Cultivator. _____ i Treatment of Horses. * No animal is more subject to ill treat- 1 ment than the horse. Some from ill J temper abuse this noble animal, and ruin 1 him utterly, before he has come to matu- ' rity,—others through lack of judgment induce disease and death, before he has i lived out half the days which nature has assigned him. We find but very few, indeed, who ex ercise good judgment in breaking, in feeding, and in driving the horse. Vicious tricks are learned at an early age, and it is often impossible to correct bad habits when they are once formed. We find some horses of very fine ap , pcarance that will insist on setting their , jown time for starting. Others will re luseto draw until the load is fairly pndei t wav. Some will kick their best friends, land some will bite the ostler when he . comes to do him an act of kindness. . These are the fruits of education, and | most of the ugly tricks of horses are learn >jed in breaking. The first step to be ta j' ken in training a horse is halter breaking. . It is quite important, when you first un | dertnke to control a young horse, that i you let him know that your power is su preme. If he breaks Ins first baiter, he Will never forget it, and should he after '! wards find himself confined by a cable he will trv its strength, because bis memory is better than his judgment. •j The young animal should be repeated ly made fast in different positions; and | he must have repeated opportunities to t test the full virtue of a rope about his bead. He should be very carefully tied i till he is fully convinced that there is a power above his own strength. When this is once properly done, a single brown thread will hold him. When you first require him to move he will not be likely to understand you, , i and you must be very cautious how you i undertake to get him into motion. Your j most prudent course would be to invite i him to accompany another horse that has been trained. After be has been led re peatedly by his side he will be more wil ■ ling to follow you alone. The first saddle that is put on his back should not be held • up ami made to clatter like a scare-crow. . A padding that he has been allowed to • see and to learn that it is not a wild beast, i will be more suitable than a common , saddle. The first load that a young horse is put ; to draw should be a very light one. If i he gets set at the first trial, lie will re , member it as long as he will the weak ; halter; he will suppose that every load is , too heavy, and that all halters may be broken. | A well trained horse is a rare chattel, . yet nothing but plain common sense is necessary to qualify any man to break a horse. Some horsemen prefer to let a | young animal have his head till he is four years old, and then bring him to the bit! and the collar at once: .but horses that , are suffered to have their own way till they are four years old, are likely to pre : fer the sweets of freedom which they ( have so long tasted to any discipline which can be contrived. The kindest ] ' horses are those that were halter broken . , when they were quite young. ( Churning Butter. Every good housewife knows that at ; at times, for some peculiar causes, (most generally extra sourness or bitterness of < the cream.) much difficulty is experienced i in making the cream into butter. A|< lady writer in the Indian Farmer, recom- i mends the following course in such cases. 1 We have (says the Western Farmer) for i years uscdsocla or saleratus for the same 1 purpose, and found them usually success- r ful: ( “ I wish to inform my sister butter- l makers, of the means I used, which so \ successfully removed the difficulty, 11, churned, perhaps, three hours, to no pur- \ pose, and then tried to think of something 1 that I had read in the Indian Farmer, or c jsome other periodical. I’could not re. member precisely, but I recollected the 1 (reason stated, was the cream being too sour. I then thought of soda, (pearlash,ii I presume, would do its well,) and dissolv-: ed a large teaspoonful in a pint of warm i water, and as I poured it in, churning at I the same time, it changed in a moment,!i and gradually formed into a beautiful so- I lid lump of sweet butter. of Plants. Many small funguses, called moulds, : live but a few hours, or no longer iu most than a few days. Garden plants and mosses live but one season, dying ol old ago as soon as they ripen their seeds. Others live two years, and sometimes 1 throe if their flowering is prevented, such as the fox glove and hollvhoch. These | are the annual and biennial shrubs, herbs, j &c. Many live not only through the[ winter, but are perpetually or perennially green. Such are evergreens or forest trees. These live oftentimes for many centuries, producing annually new leaves. Thus the olive, vine, oak, cedar and cliesnut, live three hundred anil even a, thousand years. The dragon’s blood of Toneriffe is estimated to be two thousand, or more, years old ; and the banian may be six thousand. The interior of trees often becoming too compact for the sap to circulate, or for the formation of new vessels, its moisture passes into younger wood, and the fibres shrink and become powder; but the outer parts live, and the tree survives, even for centuries.— Hand Book of Plants, Spc. Heavy Porker. Scarcely a week passes but we see an account of some enormous ox, call'or pig! having been raised and exhibited in sonny section of the country. To give an idea, of what can he done in one of the moun-' tain Districts of South Carolina, we will! barely state, (with no intention of boast ing, however,) that Capt. David Long. of this town, fattened a Hog last year, which be slaughtered a week or two since, that weighed 088 lbs., gross. Il j any of our neighbors raise larger pigs than Capt. L’s., we should be glad to hear from them—that’s all.— Greenville Moun. M3MElL£&Nli<oiy)®a “I believe God hears Prayer.” A few years ago there was a battle fought on the ocean. On the deck of the ship, which was commanded bv Captain James Holdamc, a company of poor sol. j diers lav mangled, and bleeding, and dy ing. Their limbs were torn from their bodies, and scattered about the ship. The battle, however, had hut just begun, and the captain ordered another compa nv to he called up from below. As thev came up on deck, and saw the bodies of their companions, the pale and ghastlv countenances of tho dying, and the dead, they manifested, as was natural, some emotions of fear and alarm ; at which the jeaptain was dreadfully nngrv, and swore , a horrid oath, imprecating the vengeance ,of Heaven on the trembling mariners. jOne of the soldiers, being a pious man. was shocked and grieved at the profane ness of the captain, and remarked, taking offhishatat the same time, out of re spect to the commanding officer, “Cap tain,” said he, “I*believe God hears prayer, and if he were to bear your prayer .now, what would become of us?” The battle was fought, and when the captain became more calm, he thought of what the pious soldier had said to him. iThc result was, he left off swearing, and was ever afterward a pious man. When he returned to his home in Scotland, he called on his brother, Robert Holdane, and told him what the Lord had done for his soul. Ilis brother was a very weal thy man, but not religious; he had heard of his brother James’s conversion, and was very angry with him on account of it. He ordered him to leave his house, and never to come into it again. James accordingly left; hut as he turn ed away he said to his brother. “ Robert, though you forbid me your house, von can’t prevent my praying for you, and I • will pray for you as long as we bolli live.” This expression went like an ar row to the heart of Robert. He thought how unkind he bad been to his'brother, and how wicked he was in the sight of God, to be so angry because his brother < had become a Christian. He wept, and went aw’ay by himself and fell upon his knees in prayer, and begged that God' would have mercy upon his poor soul, <. The Lord heard his prayers, and he be- f came an eminently pious man, devoting l 'his influence and wealth to the cause of ;Christ. He made a visit to Geneva, for the purpose of conversing with tlie young men there, who, under the influence of ; Voltaire’s and Rousseau’s writings, had imbibed intidel principles. He took a house in the bosorn of the most enchant ing natural scenery, on the margin of the beautiful lake of Geneva, and being a man of wealth and general intelligence, as well as humble piety, many of the students came to visit him. He con versed with them on the subject of reli jgion, relating to them his own experience, and told them how sad it was that young linen of talent and literary acquirement* ishould degrade their minds and throw jawav their acquisitions in the cause of j irrelrgion and infidelity. The result was, that some of these young men became religious, and among the number the mow celebrated Dr. Merle D’Aubigne. who has written the History of the Re formation, and is now at the head of a theological institution which is educating I a large number of pious young men for the Christian ministry. All these glori ous results we trace back to that pious soldier who, on the bloody deck, said to ’ his profane captain, “ I believe God hears , prayer.”— S. S. Treasury. ’ A Touching Incident in Real T.lfe. The Cincinnatti Patriot relates an , agreeable incident as having recently , occurred in that city. The editor states l that on the sth instant, a boat rounded to at the levee, crowded as usual with cart wheels, chicken coops and human beings, bound tor the upper Mississippi. Anun • usual number of Germans were hivouack ' ed in the engine room, ready, in case of ' an explosion or collision, for slaughter or i for drowning, like so many animals coop ed together in a pen. Among them was ' a stout, brown, laughing German girl of sixteen, who would weigh about 150 pounds. A heavy built young man, of • the same nation, in the course of the day 1 strayed along the shore and stopped at the plank ot the boat—he heard the ■ hearty laugh of the girl, and it fell upon > his ear as the joyful sound of other days. ’ But a philosophical German docs not go into tantrums at such an event—ho walk ed carelessly abroad, and down between the engines. There had been no dis tressing love in the case; no eternal vows ; no plighted troth—in the hours of i boyhood and girlhood, they had felt the ; rising flame of love; but he had left the old father-land for a new and a better one, without severing any lasting ties.— Fate had determined to separate these ■ friends—these quasi lovers. They had separated with regret, hut not with anguish, for fate had ordained it so. The separation tfns mutually sup posed to be forever. But a kind remem -1 brance of each remained—the girl now saw her old friend approaching—no ex i clamations —no fainting and running in to his embraces. But her young face brightened up to an expression of wel come and joy. He took straight hold of her thick hand and pressed it warmly in his own. No kissing—no tears—and yet their two spirits communed with each other in that moment. An hour after, says the editor, we saw the honest young ■ man lead her olfthe boat, and up Broad way, accompanied by five or six other : young men, who were all on their way ■to a wedding and a frolic. The girl car ried a bundle on her arm, her only prop -1 ertv —she wore nothing on her head, but ’ her feet were shod with wooden sahots or shoes. Her dress was warm and clean, and it became a bridal suit. No doubt they are destined to be happy, unless their hearts belie the honesty and good ness beaming in their faces. From Noah’s Weekly Messenger. The World. ‘ Sir, bring me a good, plain dinner, 1 said a melancholy-looking individual to a waiter at one of our principal hotels. ‘Yes, sir.’ The dinner was brought and devoured, and the eater called the landlord aside, and thus addressed him— ‘You are the landlord V i ‘Yes.’ I ‘ You do a good business here ?’ ; ‘Yes,’(in astonishment.) i ‘You make-—probably ten dollars a i day, clear?’ < ‘Yes.’ < ‘ Then lam safe. I cannot pay for what I have consumed; I have been out \ of employment seven months; but havejl engaged to go to work to-morrow. I had i been without food four-and-twenty hours 1 [One Dollar a Year. f when I entered your place. I will pay you in a week.’ ‘ I cannot pay my bills with such pro mises,’ blustered the landlord, ‘and Ido I not keep a poor-house. You should ad dress the proper authorities. Leave mo • something for security.’ 4 1 have nothing.’ ‘I will take your coat.’ ‘ If I go into the streets without that I will get my death, such weather as it is.’ ‘ You should have thought of that be* • fore you came here.’ ‘You are serious? Well, I solemnly : aver that one week from new I will pay ■ you.’ * I will take the coat.’ i The coat was left and a week after . wards redeemed. Seven years after that, a wealthy man ; entered the political arena and was pre . seated at caucus as an applicant for a • Congressional nomination. The prinei i pal of the caucus held his peace—he r heard the name and the history of tho r applicant, who was a member of a church, - and one of the most respectable citizens, sHe was chairman. The vote was a tie and he cast a negative,—thereby defeat s mg the wealthy applicant, whom he met an hour afterwards, and to whom he said— * You don’t remember me V i ‘No.’ ‘ I once ate a dinner in jotir hotel, and s altho’ I told you I was famishing and ) pledged my word and honor to pay you t in a week, you took my coat and saw me i, go out into the inclement air, at the risk . of my life, without it.’ * Well, sir, what then ?’ f ‘Not much, lou called yourself a r Christian. To-night you were a candi - date for nomination, and but for me you s would have been elected to Congress.’ f Three years after, the Christian hotcl ) keeper became bankrupt and sought a f home at Bellevien. The poor dimfefless wretch that was, is now a high function l ary in Albany. We know him well.— The ways of Providence are indeed won i derful, and the world’s mutalions almost . beyond conception or belief. Which is Ihc most per sect. Popular Go* i cemment ? —“That,” said Blass, “ where • the laws have no superior.” “That,” ! said Thales, “where the inhabitants are neither too rich nor too poor.” “ That,” >said Anacharis, the Scythian, “where ‘ virtue is honored and vice detested.” • “ That,” said Pittacus, “ whose dignities • are always conferred upon the virtuous, and never upon the base.” “ That,” said Cleobolus, “where the citizens fear blame t more than punishment.” “That,” said t Chilo, “ where the laws are more regard ■cd than tho orators.” “But that,”%aid • Salon, “where an injury done to the ' meanest subject is an insult upon the • whole constitution. The steamboat Fanny Ellsler, on»her . way from Apilachicola to Albany, Geo., f with an assorted cargo of merchandize, i took fire on the sth inst. and was burned L<o the water’s edge. The boat was own ied by Capt. L. A. Phelps. No insurance on boat or cargo. r "" " ' ‘ " ’ ■' . -4 Sensible Child. —“ Father, what do r printers live on ?” “ Why, child ?” r “ You said you had not paid him for two . or three years, and yet you have his pa . pers every week ?” “ Take the child out [of the room. What does he know about • right and wrong ?” To Preserve the Teeth. i Let finely pulverized charcoal be heat ■ ed to redness in ao iron kettle, and while hot, pour into it a bowl of clean wafir. Put this immediately into a bottle Ind cork it tight. When used, shake it up, take a small quantity into the mouth, and rub the teeth. Every thing that renders the breath unpleasant, and injurious and destructive to the teeth, will be removed. Or, if dry powder is preferred, the char coal may be put into the phial, and se cured from the air by a tight cork. Fob Tetters and Ringworms.—Pro cure the roots of the yellow or narrow leaf dock, bruise them and soak them in good apple vinegar and rub the tetter or ringworm three times in the day till a cure is effected. This is a certain remedy ex cept where the nails of the fingers are diseased. Another.—Bruised mullen leaves and vinegar constitute an excellent remedy. It is said to he a sure restorative of the nails, particularly if the patient does not become weary in well doing.