Newspaper Page Text
AV6VBTA WABBXI6TOKXAir.
Vol. II No. 50.]
resssr
L ill BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY
MORNING, BY
JAMES McCAFFERTY,
[At tbc low price of one dollar per annum, for
* a single subscriber, five dollars for a club of
| H ; Xj or ten dollars for a club of twelve sub- '
II acribers —payment , in advance. t
All Communications, by mail, addressed to the
T publisher, must be post paid to receive atten-
I tion. By the rules of the Post-Otfice Depart
s merit, Post masters may frans subscription '•
, money for Newspapers.
Advertisements will be inserted at the follow
ing reduced rates For one square, not ex
ceeding twelve lines, 50 cents for the first
insertion, and twenty;five cents for eaehcon-j
tinuance, if published weekly; if semi-monthly j
37i ; and if monthly 43} cents, for each con
tinuance.
Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount.
—■——— mmmmmm ——
TKHE
From the American Agriculturalist.
Subsoil Plowing.
f* We are highly gratified to observe an
increased attention to subsoil plowing,
for we consider if it could be generally]
introduced among us, it would be one of
the greatest improvements of the age.
In vol. 1. page 199, we have full details!
of the successful operation of the subsoil
plow in England, where it was shown.]
that by its use, crops may be doubled |
without adding a particle of fertilizing
materials to the land. Two years subse
quent experience by the farmers of that
h country, corroborate the benefits to be
derived by the free use ofthe subsoil plow,
for grain as well as root crops. Mr.
Tilley recently asserted before the Corn-'
wall Agricultural Association, that he!
had the past year raised hundreds of roots
of mangel-wurzel, weighing 25 lbs. each;
that the crop of these per acre, as well as
carrots and turnips, was at least doubled
by subsoil plowing.
Five yaars ago we had a piece of land
containing acres of hard clay soil,
which, with the best management we
| could bestow upon it, yielded less than
|[ 150 bushels of potatoes to the acre, and
400 of sugar-beet—while parsnips, car
rots, or any long roots, it would scarcely
grow. We had just heard of Mr. Smith’s
subsoil plow in Scotland, and determined
upon an experiment. We had no plow
of this description, nor could we then ob
tain one ; we accordingly took the mould
hoard off from a large strong road plow,
and used the point of the share alone for
subsoiling. We plowed the land in the
fall of the year, by taking a common
plow and one yoke ofcattle, and turning
over a surface furrow six inches deep.
We then followed directly after this in
the same furrow, with three yoke of cat
tle attached to the road plow, stirring the
soil eight inches deeper, making fourteen
in all. This we then bountifully limed,
*nd the next spring as bountifully ma
nured and planted it with roots, and the
following autumn obtained over 1,100
bushels of sugar-beet to the acre from it,
and other crops in proportion.
Subsoil plows may now be had in this
sty, of excellent pattern and strongly
constructed, from $lO to sls each,
which will stir the earth from 12 to 18
inches deep, requiring from two or five
*yokc of cattle to move them, according
to the nature of the soil, and the depth
required to plow.
Potato Blossoms. —Repeated experi
ments in England, it is confidently
asserted, have demonstrated that the
plucking off the blossoms of the potato
any balls are formed, have contri
buted very much to increase the produce.
> We have no personal knowledge of anv
facts in this matter, which would serve
4o determine it. We do not pretend to
understand the philosophy of it, even if it
be true. But it is so often and confi
dently stated, and upon such respectahle
authority that we hope some careful ob
server will make the experiment with
exactness ; and do us, or rather the agri
cultural public, the kindness to report the
||esult. — N. E. Farmer.
| To kill the Peach tree Borer.— Mr.
ipames Camack, of Athens, Ga., in a let
4fcr published in the magazine of Horticul
ture, recommends fish brine, diluted with
an equal quantity of water, and a pint
Aimed round each tree in the spring or
pUI. The trees on which he used this
gSere two and a half to three inches in
®ameter. To smaller trees he thinks
Bss brine should be applied.
| To kill Lice on Hogs. —Cut up a few
Sods of red pepper in small pieces, and
j? em they change their
■ilour, then mix it with tar and a small
U ©Hair m JWE® : iDeteWi m SBrpjiwpaww,
quantity of spirits of turpentine, and rubli
or smear it on the affected parts, and I
along the back and sides. It will effect- t
ually drive away the lice.
Warts on Cows’Teats.— Mr. Jona
than Perry, of Dover, tells us that lamp "
oil, will kill warts on cows—apply it sev
eral days in succession. If other farmers
find this effectual, they will oblige by
sending additional testimony.-.-Afass. '
Plough. (
Soap Making. i
In the city I believe, it is better to ex- (
(change ashes and grease for soap ; but in
the country, I am certain, it is good ccon- <
|omy to make one’s own soap. If you !
, burn wood you can make your own lye, I
but the ashes of coal is not worth much. ’
Bore small holes in the bottom of a bar- !
rel, place four bricks around, and fill the |
barrel with ashes. Wet the ashes well, <
but not enough to drop; let it soak thus i
three or four days, then pour a gallon ol
water in every hour or two, for a day or 1
more, and let it drop into a pail or tub be
. neath. Keep it dripping till the color of i
the lye shows the strength is exhausted.
, If your lye is not strong enough, you
j must fill your barrel with fresh ashes, and
i let the lye run through it. Some people
take a barrel without any bottom and lay
]]sticks and straw across to prevent the
ashes from falling through. To a barrel
of soap it will require about sor 6 bush
, els of ashes, with at locust four quarts of un
slacked stone lime ; if slacked double the
1 quantity.
] When you have drawn off a part of the
lye, put the lime (whether slaked or not)
. into three pails of boiling water, and add
to it the ashes, and then let it drain
' through.
It is the practice of some people, in
making soap, to put the lime near the bot-
I tom of the ashes when they are first set
up; but the lime becomes like mortar
[ and the lye, does not run through, so as to
] get the strength of it, which is very im-
I portant in making soap, as it contracts
the nitrous salts which collect in ashes,
, and prevent the soap from coming as (the
I saying is.) Old ashes are very apt to be
j impregnated with it.
r Three pounds of grease should be put
into a pailful of lye. The great difficulty
in making soap come, originates in want
of judgment about the strength of the
! lyc. One rule may be safely trusted.
. If your lye will bear up an egg, or a potato
, so that you can sec a piece of the surface
, as big as a ninepence, it is just strong
’ enough. If it sink below the top of the
! lye, it is too weak, and will never make
soap, if it is buoyed up half way, the lyc
is too strong and that is just as bad, a bit j
! of quick lime, thrown in while the lye
and grease are boiling together, is of ser- i
] vice. When the soap becomes thick and i
, ropy, carry it down cellar in pails and
J empty it into a barrel.
Cold soap is less trouble, because it 1
does not need to boil; the sun does the i
, work of fire. The lye must be prepared
. and tried in the usual way. The grease i
must he prepared and tried out, and i
j strained from the scraps. Two pounds '
, of grease instead of three, must be used i
,to a pailful; unless the weather is very I
| sultry, the lye should be hot when put to i
grease, it should stand in the sun and be
stirred every day. If it does not begin to :
■ look like soap in the course of five or six :
days, add a little hot lye to it; if this does
i not help it try. whether it be grease that «
>it wants. Perhaps you will think cold <
soap water wasteful; because the grease :
must be strained ; but if the scraps are i
boiled thoroughly in strong lye, the
grease will all float upon the surface, and i
nothing be lost. —Boston Cult.
A new cure for Consumption. —A sub
scriber, says the New-York Sun, who 1
has for a long time been afflicted with I
consumption and its attendant evils, in- I
forms us that as an experiment he mixed !
one part of Chloride of lodine with six 5
parts of water, and kept it in his bed *
room, in a partly covered dish, for a fort- 1
night; during which time his health has I
been so much improved that he attributes (
it,to the lodine, and desires us to give 1
publicity to tho fact.— Ex. paper. 1
■ —i \
A Little Grandson’s Question. —A t
man on Long Island brought forward his 1
strong argument against the Bible, de- s
claring in the face of all present—“ lam t
seventy years of age, and have never seen c
such a place as hell, after all that has t
been said about it.” His little grandson, a
of about seven years of age, who was all s
the while listening to the conversation, y
AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, MAY 18, 1844.
asked him, “ Grand-daddy have you ever i
been dead yet?” There the conversa- j
tion ended, at least for that time.
Humors of an Oriental.
i
Translated from the Persian of the Tuotee Parnell.
A goldsmith and a carpenter weie once •
boon companions; and, being in pretty ,
easy circumstances, passed the mast of j
their lives in junkettingand ninkin* mer. |
ry. Pity it is that so peasant a life ,
could not last forever; but just it the (
l moment when these jov:al fellows fan- (
cied themselves the happiest of men their (
last coin was expended, and they ’ound |
themselves a couple of miserable dogs. |
They tried to borrow money, but, is ill
luck would have it, cash happened o be
particularly scarce wherever they ippli
ed. In short, they were at their wit’s j
end to get a living, yet manager, by ,
hook and by crook, to escape starvation.
One day, in strolling about the country, ,
they came to a temple, when a theught .
struck the Goldsmith. “Let us eign .
ourselves Brahmins, said he (o the car
penter, “and get admission into the tern- ,
pie, who knows but we shall find good j
picking there?” No sootier said han ;
done; they stretched thcirifaces into a
dismally pious look, and boiled in. Here
they found a great numbjcr of goden
idols, and numerous Brahmins worship
ing. Our two rogues, nothing abasied,
fell to imitating them, and so well did
they sham the devotee, that the Brahmins
left the temple in their chargs. Wien
night came, they seized thb idols and de
camped. Having reached a lonely »art
of the woods, they buried Ihe idols urder
a tree, and agreed to let them lie snugtili
the famo of the theft had blown over
But when were a couple of rogies
known to lay their heads together, with
out, in the end, plotting to cheat etch
other? Ere a week had passed, he
goldsmith went by stealth, dug up lie
idols, and hid them in a place of his ovn.
Next morning, going with the carpener
to the tree, and finding thorn gone, he
feigned a terrible rage, and laid the tffft
upon the carpenter. “ You chip ol a
crooked log,” he exclaimed, “ no one hit
you could have stolen them.” The car
penter was thunderstruck; but, aftor
iiearing the goldsmith storm away at such
a rate, he became convinced that hs
worthy partner was the real thief. How
ever, feigning not to suspect him, he re
plied, “you are out of your wits to lar
sucli a thing to my charge ; it must havi
been the rascally Brahmins, who trace!
us to the spot, and nosed out the hiding
place of their blockhead deities.”
The goldsmith pretended to be paci
fied, and they both returned home t(
their families. The carpenter set his
wits to work to circumvent his old friend.
He procured a log of wood, and made a
figure exactly resembling the goldsmith,
and clothed it in the dress he usually
wore. Then going to a betfr’s den in
the woods, he got a pair of young cubs,
and kept them constantly about it; and
when hungry were taught to eat out of
the bosonq ofthe image. After some time
tue carpenter made a feast and sent for
the goldsmith, and his family ; after din
ner, while the children were playing
about the garden, he stole away the two
sons of the goldsmith, and shut them up
in the cellar. Then making a tremend
ous halloo, he ran after the goldsmith, and
cried out “ O ! my friend, your children
arc lost! a great she bear just now came
out of the wood and fell to licking them
with her tongue, when they were sud
denly transformed into cubs, and raff
away with her.”
The goldsmith would not believe a
word cf the story, and became furious, as
the carpenter persisted in it. “ You vil
lain,” said he, “you have murdered them,
because you think I cheated you in the
affair of the golden images; but you
shall not make a fool of me so.” On
this, he dragged him before the Cadi,
where the whole case was argued. No
body,- of course, believed any thing of the
carpenter’s tale, and the Cadi was about
to give sentence, when the carpenter
begged for a moment’s delay. 1 “Your
worship must allow,” said he “that if
these unfortunate youths should again be
hold their father, they would, notwith
standing their transformation, give some
token that they recognized him, in which
case, the truth of my story would be pret
ty clear.” The Cadi agreed 4 to this,
and the goldsmith readily consented to
such proof, adding with a laugh, “ when
you can find a cub that shall call me ,
*
daddy, I must be a bear with a ven- s
geance, not to father the brute ! “ Say 1
you so!” exclaimed the carpenter, “then t
singe my mustachios if I don’t think I see 1
the little pets coming.” At this moment (
the cubs being purposely let loose, burst t
into the court, and running to the gold- r
smith, sprang upon his bosom and began 1
nuzzling and smacking at a furious rate, s
The whole assembly were struck with i
astonishment, and the goldsmith, fully 1
believing his sons bewitched, withdrew t
his complaint, and confessed his thieving a
to the carpenter. The latter promised t
to restore the boys to their lost shape, if
the goldsmith would disgorge the whole
of the booty; but before the affair could
be settled, the whole roguery came to '
light, and the two sharpers were soundly
bastinadoed. * *
I
“Education,” says, very truly and *
prettily, a writer in Fraser, “does not*
commence with the alphabet. It begins 1
with a mother’s look—with a father’s nod ]
of approbation, of a sigh of reproof—with '
a sister’s gentle pressure of the hand, or '
a brother’s noble act of forbearance—
with handfulls of flowers in green and
daisy meadows—with birds’ nests, ad
mired, but not touched—with creeping
ants, and almost imperceptible emmets— 1
with humming bees and glass beehives—
with pleasant walks in shady lanes—and
with thoughts directed in sweet and kind- 1
ly tones and words, to nature, to beauty,
to acts of benevolence, to deeds of virtue, !
and to the sense of all good, to God him
self.”
- ■■ -• ■■■ -
Death ill a Theatre.
From a work just published in Boston, -
entitled “ Italy and the Italians,” by J.
T. Ileadly, the following terrible de
scription of a Death in a Theatre is
i taken. It illustrates a distinguished
trait in the Italian character :
i “ I have seen and heard much of the
1 Italian love of music, but nothing illus
> trating it so forcibly as an incident that
, occurred last evening at the opera. In
• the midst of one of the scenes, a man
■ in the pit near the orchestra was sudden
ly seized with convulsions. His limbs
i stiffened, his eyes became set in his head,
and stood wide open, staring at the ceil
ing like the eyes of a corpse ; while low
• and agonizing groans broke from his
i struggling bosom. The prima-donna i
i came forward at that moment, but seeing .
this livid, death-stamped face before her, i
suddenly stopped, with a tragic look and i
' a start, that for once was perfectly natur
! al. She turned to the bass-singer, and i
I pointed out the frightful spectacle. He i
also started back in horror, and the pros
pect was that the opera would terminate '
on the spot; but the scene that was just i
opening was one in which the prima don- <
na was to make her great effort, and i
. around which the whole interest of the 1
i play was gathered, and the spectators i
. were determined not to be disappointed
because one man was dying, and so i
l shouted, “Goon! goon!” Clara Novel
, Io gave another look toward the groan- j
I ing man, whose whole aspect was enough
fto freeze the blood, and then started oft' i
jin her part. But the dying man grew ;
r worse and worse, and finally sprung bolt
- iprig'nt in his seat.
r A person sitting behind him, all ab
) sorbed, in the music, immediately placed
> ids hands on his shoulders, pressed him
- (own again, and held him firmly in his
1 f lace. There he sat, pinioned fast, with
i ] his pale, corpse-like face upturned in the i
; midst of that gay assemblage, and the
i foam rollingbver his lips while the bray
■ ing of trumpets, and the voice of the
i singer drowned the groans that were (
rending his bosom. At length the foam
i became streaked with blood as it oozed
i through his teeth, and the convulsive
. starts grew quicker and fiercer. But the
, man behind him held him fast, while he
s gazed in perfect rapture on the singer,
i who now, like the ascending lark, was ;
i trying her loftiest strain. As it ended, i
, the house rang with applause, and the i
man who held down the poor dying crea- 1
i ture could contain his ecstacy no longer, 1
and lifting his hands from his shoulders, i
■ clapped them rapidly together three or \
four times, crying out over the ears of the (
'dying man, ‘ Brava, brava!’ and then
hurriedly placing them back again to pre
vent his springing up, in his convulsive s
throes. It was a perfectly maddening c
spectacle, and the music jarred on the s
chords of my heart like the blows of a r
hammer. But the song was ended, the \
effect secured, and so the spectators could r
attend to the sufferer in their midst. The t
gen d’artns entered, and carried him ‘
[One Dollar a Year.
speechless and lifeless out of the theatre.
If this be the refined nature, and sensi
tive soul, love, of music creates, heaven
keep me from it, and my countrymen.
Give me a heart with chords that vibrate
to human suffering, sooner than to the
most ravishing melody, aye, that can
hear nothing else, when moving Pity
speaks. But on the world goes —men
will weep over a dying ass, then pitch a
brother into a ditch. A play, oh, how
they can appreciate, and to feel it, they
are sensative, but a stern, stirring fact,
they can look as coldly, on as a statue !
Leprosy in New Brunswick.
The following is a translation from the
Quebec Canadian :
“ The Governor of New Brunswick,
Sir W. Colebrook, has sent a message to
the Legislature on the subject of a disor
der the most hideous and fatal, which
exists among the French population on
the borders of the gulf of St. Lawrence,
and which the medical men in the neigh
borhood consider resembles the leprosy
of the 17th century.
The Chamber of Representatives went
into Committee on the 21st of March, to
take into consideration the message and
the documents which accompany it. It
appears irom these papers, says the New
Brunswicker, that this disgusting malady
made its first appearance in 1824, and
since that year seven persons have died
with it, after languishing for five or six
years in the most miserable condition;
one of these patients who had been con
fined in a log hut, and fed through a hole,
died, as is believed, in a state of mental
derangement, and the contagion was so
dreaded that in some cases the inspector
of the poor had been himself obliged to
carry to these unfortunate creatures the
food necessary to their subsistence, and
for which they still preserved their natur
al appetite and desire.
Those who maintain the contagious
nature of this disease assert that it has
been communicated by sleeping with
those who were afflicted with it, and that
a young man who had assisted in bearing
the bier of a dead patient, and on whose
clothes some corrupt matter from the
corpse had dropped, took the disease and
died of it.
It appears, in addition, that there is at
this moment twelve patients laboring un
der this malady, in the county of Gloster,
and about the same number on the other
side of the line, which separates that
county from that of Northumberland. It
is probable that there are others who
conceal their sufferings, fearing that if
they were known to be thus afflicted, they
would be shunned by their neighbors.
Among the cases enumerated is that
of a woman who was wrecked at Carra
quet, on her way to Quebec, and who
afterwards returned to Chatham, where
the malady developed itself, and was com
municated to two other persons in the
family, with whom she resided, and also
a child who frequented the house, all of
whom died. It appears that the disease
is invariably fatal.
We learn from the last Miramichi
Gleaner that a medical commission, con
sisting of Drs. Key, Skene, Toldervy and
Gordon, have been investigating the na
ture, origin, and extent of this frightful
disease now existing in New Brunswick.
These gentlemen have decided that the
disease is the Greek elephantiasis; not
the elephantiasis of the Arabians, but
the leprosy of the middle ages; of that
description which the French designated
the tubercular, and which raged over
nearly every part of Europe between the
tenth and sixteenth centuries. The dis
ease is contagious, and no person in this
province who has been unfortunate
enough to contract it, has as yet been
cured. The medical gentlemen say that
the disease has no affinity to scrofula, and
that the idea of its having arisen from
the poor diet of the French settlers, or
from filthy habits, is not correct, as they
found it existing in some of the cleanest
dwellings, and among the most repecta
ble families. The disease appears to
have spread rapidly during the past year,
and the commissioners have seen up
wards of twenty cases, all of which they
traced to one source.
‘ Run, and get, me an arm full of wood,’
said a woman to her husband one rainy
day, ‘as you are wet and lam dry.’ The
same plea was used for a dozen more er
rands. At last it was * Get me a bucket of
water, for you are wet and I am dry.’
The bucket of water was brought and
thrown over her, the husband exclaiming,
* Now do your share, for you are wet too.’