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Gypsum as Manure.
For Potatoes —The Following results of
gypsum on potatoes are furnished by the
Rev. T. Skepworth, of Yorkshire:
“In a plot of land which had last
spring been richly manured for early po
tatoes, we apportioned three rows fur the
following experiment: When the sets
were cut they were immediately dipped
into powdered gypsum: they were then
placed in the trenches, when a small por
tion of gypsum was sprinkled upon each
set. The trenches were then filled up
with earth, and a little more gypsum :
sprinkled the whole length of the rows as j
a top dressing. lam now convinced the j
top dressing is much better applied when
they are about two or three inches out of
the ground and very wet. This finished
the process, in which, as nearly as we
could calculate, we used about fifteen
bushels of gypsum per acre. I must
here state, that the gypsumed and ungyp
sumed rows immediately adjoined ench
other; but that if, as to the precise posi
tion of each, in point of free exposure to
sun and air, there was any difference, it
was in favor of the ungypsomed rows.
“On taking up and carefully weigh
ing off the produce of the gymsumed
rows against the same number <>t ungyp
sumed, we had an extra produce from the
gypsum of full 24 sacks, of 12 pecks
each, per sack.”
Second experiment. —A plot of old
swarth was. lust spring, broken up for
potatoes. The greater part of the crop
grew most luxuriantly ; hut the remain
der, from being planted near the roots of
some fruit trees, exhibited, in the spin
died growth of their tops, a striking evi
deuce of the exceeding poverty of the
soil. 'Fhe grower determined upon a tri
al of gypsum on this part, on which he
applied a top-dressing. A gentle rain
falling a few days afterwards, put the
gypsum into aetion, the effect was the
astonishment of all who saw it—the gyp
sum seeming to impart an almost magic
energy to these poor and pnnv tops;
and in defiance of the extremely ex
hausted condition of that part of the
soil upon which the experiment was tri
ed, and the consequent backwardness of
the crop, the gypsumed potatoes were
amongst the finest in the plot.
© Sl ilaSTe © y¥.
For the Wathingtoninn.
The niue Ribbon.
A TALE OF THE SEA.
BY MARCUS.
Break, phantarie, from thy cave of cloud,
And wave thy purple wings,
Now all thy figures are allowed,
And various shapes of things.
Ben. Johnson.
Whether, or not, writers on moral
ethics would consider it wrong to indulge
the imagination in some of its wayward j
flights, it is not for us to consider in this
little story; but if any one of them
should assume a position, and endeavor
to maintain, that we should at all times
confine ourselves down to simple verity,
we have no doubt but that a host of
gloves would be cast into the arena of
argument, to challenge and test the
soundness of the premises he occupied,
for we have the imagination to produce
the happiest results, by wandering in the
regions of hyperbolia, to find subjects to
enliven and cheer up a ship’s company,
on a long and monotonous voyage. And
when every other species of amusement
had become insipid, that kind of nauti
cal narrative, called “ Tough Yarn,” nev
er failed to invigorate and vivify the
spirits of the crew. An officer, in com
mand of one of his Brittanic Majesty’s
frigates, reported to the admiralty, that,
being placed on a very sickly West India
station, a for story-tellers on board bis
AUGUSTA WASHINGTMIANJ
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ship had kept the crew in such a cheer- j
ful condition, that the physician was a |
useless apendage to the vessel, while on |
that cruise.
Our health had been rapidly declining
under a severe course of study, and our
many friends saw with anxietv, the
freshness of health faded from our cheek.
They knew if we continued in our pur
suit, that our career must terminate very
briefly; after consulting many eminent
physicians on the subject, it was finally
resolved that a change of scene was the
best means to be resorted to, and a voy
age to the south of France was deter
mined upon. Accordingly every prepa
ration was made for us to set out, and
when the day arrived for our departure,
we went around to take leave of our
most intimate friends; the partings were
j hitter enough, and some of them seemed
to look at us with such a fixed and mel
; ancholy gaze, that we thought it ominous
! and began to fancy that we were looking
! at them for the last time.
As we were walking down one of the
fashionable streets of the seaport, from
which we were to sail, we saw a lady
! whose form was of the most exquisite
j contour, issue from the portal of a fine
mansion, and wend her way like a fairy
thing along the street, and just behind
her, an old weather beaten child of the
ocean was making headway, in the same
| course. The lady had not proceeded far,
when a broad piece of blue ribbon which
we conceived had served as a hair-tie,
by some means got loose, and disenga
ging itself from under her light bonnet,
J performed a number of gyrations in the
air, and after floating a few minutes in
, the breeze, fell as softly as a snow-flake,
| upon the ground. Jack had watched the
ribbon as it floated about, and saw with
; infinite satisfaction, that it alighted a few
i paces from him ; a smile lit the old fel
| low’s countenance as he stooped to pick
' it up ; he looked at the ribbon, and then
| looked at the lady, who was now some
distance ahead. “ Well, well” said Jack,
turning his quid in his month, “ shiver
my timbers if this piece of ribbon aint
more than I expected to win on this
cruise. That little craft, which lost her
pennant, is the trime-st built sailer I’ve
seen on this line.” Then holding the
ribbon in his hand, he gazed on it a few
moments with pleasure depicted in his
countenance. Putting his hand in his
jacket pocket he drew out an old leath
ern pocket-book, and untying it, he fold
ed the ribbon up carrfully and placed it
among its folds, and thrust it into his
pocket again ; and then squirting about
la gill of tobacco juice in the eyes of a
little dog that was rambling near him, he
leisurely resumed his walk.
It was a glorious sight to greet our
eyes, the broad blue ocean, “ without a
mark, without a bound ;” and our heart
swelled with a thrilling joy to gaze on its
azure expanse, while our bark flew as
merily as a falcon on the wing along its
! surface. As the night cpme down upon
us, a terrific storm agitated the bosom of
the deep, and under her closely reefed
I sails, our ship flew like an arrow before the
blast. In the darkness of the night .the
electric fluid lit on each mast head, and at
the end of the yards, like so many goblin
lanterns, burning with a “blue infernal
light.” We could not endure this state
of things long, for the “soul sickened on
the heaving wave,” and for the next
three days knew nothing of what was
going on. When we again came on
deck, a wonderful change had taken
place—the ocean lay before us like a
sheet of polished glass—no wave, or rip
let broke the stillness of the waters; ev
ery sail was set to catch the least breath
of air that might come along, but they
hung idly against the mast; and never
before or since, was seen such stillness
on the waters of the Atlantic; for our
bark lay upon the bosom of the mighty
deep,
AUGUSTA, GA. FEBRUARY 1, 1845.
“ As idle as a painted ship,;
Upon a painted ocean.”
Our ship was a large merchantman,
in the Havre trade; we had but few
passengers, and among the few, we could
not find one congenial spirit to while
1 away the hours. Our captain was a
fine open-hearted fellow, but could not
| spare us much of his time; so for want
of better company we strayed forward
among the sailors. Part of those who
were not on the w’atch, were engaged in
spinning yarn for splicing and other
work; others were whistling for the
wind to rise, and some were calling on
Saint Anthony to blow his nose, in hopes
that he might awaken the slumbering
winds to their duty. Around the fore
castle, sat a parly of old tars engaged in
conversation, and as we approached, a
long and loud laugh convulsed the party,
produced by the narration of some won
drous story, told by one of the mess;
we took our seat near them, in order to
listen to their conversation, and perhaps
to glean from their circle some new item
of ocean life. “ Now, Jack,” said an
old tar, “you hare been sponging long
enough on us for stories, so let us hear
some of your cruisings. There must be
a grent deal of yarn in your locker, for
very little has ever out of it.”—
Jack smiled, and commenced by clearing
his throat, and taking a fresh chew of
tobacco:
“You all know, my lads,” said he,
“ that I am not in the habit of spinning
yarns, and what I am going to tell you
is just as true, as that there is work for
us to night, in that little cloud rising off
there to the windward. Many years
ago, when I was serving my lime in the
merchant service up the Levant, I was
in high favor with the skipper, because I
saved his little boy from drowning, one
day, at the risk of my own life. The
skipper was a good soul any how, and he
always allowed me to go on shore when
ever the boat left the ship, knowing that
I always kept straight and never went
out of my latitude ; I was in the habit of
carrying messages to different persons on
shore, and I always done the work so
well, that I always got the job to do.—
The skipper sent me ashore one day
with some letters to give to an old gen
tleman, who lived about a biscuit-throw
from where we were to land, and he or
dered me to wait for an answer. As I
was going among decent folks, I thought
I would rig up a little; so I went to my
locker and drew out my blue swallow tail,
that I used to wear in my young days, and
having manned the boat I stepped over
the gunnel, and a few sweeps of the oars
put us ashore. I stepped from the boat
and steered on a straight course to de
liver my errand. Up I goes to the door,
and gives two or three raps with my
fist, and in a minute it was opened by
one of the neatest little crafts I ever laid
my eyes on; her hull and figure head
beat any thing I ever spoke in all my
cruisings, and before I fired a gun, she
made my heart strike its colors, and she
could have taken me in tow without re
sistance. As I was genteelly rigged up
she asked me to walk in, and I was
shown into the parlor; I did not feel
ship-shape in such a fine place, so I
thought I would get out of it as soon as
possible. Believing she was the old
man’s daughter, I said I wished to see
her father, and that was the reason why
I had cast anchor. She said that he was
not at home, but if I would wait a few
minutes he would probably come in, and
that she would endeavor to amuse me du
ring the while. Then she began to talk
about the sea and the dreadful storms,
and how the poor sailors must suffer,
when on the ocean; and the little thing
talked so kindly to me, that I began to
like her. I told her some long winded
stories about what a glorious life it was,
and how I used to do when I was skipper
of a whaler in the south seas.*’ (“Mindi
lads, he said he was no yarn spinner,”)
interrupted another old tar. Jack smiled
and continued, “ Well, after a while, she
asks me if I was fond of music—l told
her yes; so she goes to the table and un
locks a queer looking box, and takes
out a guitar. ‘Give us the Bay of Bis
cay,’ says I, ah she took her seat and
commenced screwing it up. She began
to sing, and her voice was as soft as a
three knot breeze, but the strumming of
the guitar was not half so pleasant as the
rolling of the holy stone along the deck.
After she got through, I commenced ma
king love to her in good earnest; and be
fore the old gentleman came homo, I
thought that I had cleared the breakers,
and was making good headway under a
heavy press of canvass to the open sen
of love. At length the old lubber came
home, and he looked as sullen as a bear
with a sore head ; he stepped up and ask
ed me my business, and I handed him
the letters. He tore them open and ex
amined their cargo, and then left the
room to write an answer to them. While
he was gone I entreated the little charm
er to let me come to see her again—she
did not seem willing at first, but after a
while she told me I could come if I could
prevent her father from seeing me, be
cause he did not allow any one to visit
her. I tell you, hoys, when she granted
my request, I felt greater than any skip
per that ever trod the deck of a seventy
four—l returned on hoard the ship, but
I could do nothing for thinking of that
little craft—l dreamt about her over and
over, and sung the Bay of Biscay all
the time, until I began to think that il
was all over with me, and that I would
have to anchor on shore, so that I could
bear away my prize. We lay off that
shore (or some time, and whenever the
boat went ashore I was in her, and as
soon as I landed I would look about for
the old codger, and as soon as I saw him
busy I would make a straight track for
the house ; we met a great many times,
and finally 1 asked her if she would let
the preacher splice us; we talked the
matter over, and I persuaded her to run
off from the old man, and when she con
sented I nearly jumped out of my skin.
So we fixed matters and appointed a day
when I should come on shore, and put an
end to the business by having a wedding.
When I was about to leave, she took a
piece of broad blue ribbon which hung
about her neck, and gave it to me, telling
me that my heart must prove as true as
that color. After kissing her an hundred
times and bidding her good bye as ma
ny more, I returned on board the ship.”
“But where was her mother,” said an
old chap, who had been winking at the
others, while Jack was narrating. “I
never thought once of nsking her if she
had any mother,” said Jack ; “ because
she looked so much like an angel; but to
go on, I wanted some help to carry my
scheme on, so I goes to Ben Marlinspike
and lets him into the secret, and he agreed
to help me out; but when the day for the
wedding came around, somebody goes to
the skipper and tells him that I was going
to desert, and when he found that it was
a fact, he ordered me below and put me
in irons ; and though my love was strong,
it could not begin to break through the
irons that I was bound with. I always
thought that Beq let the cat out of the
bag; and if ever I find him out, I will
make his head like a stone cutter’s mal
let, and that is neither round, square nor
oval. We sailed from that port the next
day, and this piece of ribbon,” said Jack,
pulling out his pocket-book, “is all that
I have left of her; and many a tear have
I shed over it.” The sailors looked at
the ribbpn, and we looked at Jack, and
recognized him. “ Why Jack,”said we,
“that is the piece of ribbon you picked
up in the street before we left port.—
Don’t you remember ?” Jack was thun
derstruck ; and the sailor* began laugh-
WASHINGTONIAN
TOTAL ABSTINENCE PLEDGE.
We, whose names are hereunto arr
nexeii, desirous of forming a Society f>r
our mutual benefit, and to guard *g t nst
a pernicious practice, which is injurious
to our health, standing and fannlie-i, do
pledge ourselves as Gentlemen, not to
drink any Spirituous or Malt Liquors,
Wine or Cider.
[No. 29.
ing at him and slapping him on the back,
until Jack began to laugh himself and
acknowledged that he had told a yarn.
An Irish Hedge School.
Mr* Kohl, in his late interesting work
on Ireland, thus describes a “Hede°
School
“ I had an opportunity, by the roadside,
of seeing a genuine Irish'hedge school,
and truly an interesting and affecting
spectacle it was. The school house was
a clay cabin, roofed with sods, and with
out so much as a window. The smaller
of the ragged scholars sat as close as
they could to the entrance, towards which
they turned their books, to catch as
much as possible of the light without.
Some were lying on the ground; behind
these were a few seated on a hoard, and
behind these were a few taller boys lean
ing over those in front, likewise to catch
the light. The teacher was seated in the
midst of the group; and was clad in what
I have already described as the national
costume of the country. In a book of
Irish sketches, the picture would have
been invaluable. And I was sorry I had
not a daguerreotype apparatus with me
to perpetuate the impression. In front
of the schoolroom lay as many pieces of
tuft as there were students within, each
boy having brought it as a tribute to his
teacher. As I entered the narrow en
trance, the dominie rose from an invert
ed butter cask, on which he had sat en
throned.
“Indeed, I am very sorry, your honor,”
said he, “ (hat I have not the opportunity
of offering you a chair.” He was teach
ing his pupils the English alphabet, and
they all looked fresh and cheerful, not
withstanding i their poverty —as indeed
most Irish children do, in the country at
least, despite their ragged attire and scan
ty food.
“ Both children and teacher lived some
way from their school-house, which stood
bv the side of the road. When the hours
of study were over, the boys thrust their
spelling hooks into their pockets—and the
master afier having fastened the door of
bis college, collects the tributary tuft into
a sack, throws the burden over his shoul
der, and haying grasped his staff, trudges
away to his cabin, on the other side of
the bog.”
Johnathan Slick on Bustles.
In his celebrated work called High
Life in New York, Johnathan thus en
larges on the prominent fashion of the
day, while giving an account of “ sirar
u:y” or “ conversationry ” he attended at
the splendid mansion of his cousin John.
Speaking of his cousin’s wife, he says—
“l looked at hur purty earnestly, I
can tell you—and I do think she would
have been a crittur that John might be
proud of—it it war’nt for that stuck up •
way she’s got sense she come down here
to York. I nevur seen a criitur’s back
stuck up as her’n was; I ra!y thought
she was getting the rickets, and I felt so
ankshus about it, that I turned to cousin
John afore I went up to speak to her, and
sez I, sort of low, “ Cousin John, how
did your wife hurt hur back so ? It makes
me feel orfully to see what a great hump
she’s a growin’ sense she’s cum awav
from Cunneclercut.” With that Cousin
John looked at her and larfed a leetle,
but I could see ho did’nt feel right, and
arter a minit, he said, sez he, “ Hush !
cousin, you must not speak so loud, its
true Mary has put on rather too much
bustle but its the fashion, you see.” I
looked around and as tru as yu live, thar
war’nt a gal in the room that hadent her
back a stickin’ out the same way. Such
a set of humpbacked crittur’s I never did
put my eyes on ; and yet they all stood
about a smilin’ and taikin to the fellers
as if nuthin’ ailed them ! Poor things!!”
A traveller who spent some time in
Turkey, relates a beautiful parable which
was told him by a dervis, and which
seems even more beautiful than Sterne’s
celebrated figure of the accusing spirit
and recording angel. Every man, said
he, has two angels, one on his right shoul
der and one on his left. When he does
any thing good, the angel on his right
shoulder writes it down and seals it; be
cause what is once well done, is done
forever. When he has done evil, the an
gel on his left shoulder writes it down,
but does not seal it. He waits till mid*
night. If before that time the man
bows down his head and exclaims, ‘ Gra
cious Allah ! I have sinned—forgive me!’
the angel rubs it out; but if not, at mid
night he seals it. and the angel upon the
right shoulder weeps.