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PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY JAMES MeCAFFERTY, MACIRTOSH-STREET, OPPOSITE POST OFFICE. Terms of Paper. —For a single copy, one year, Two Dollars: for sixcopies, Ten Dollars; for thirteen copies, T wen ty Dollars, payalile in advance. Advertisements will be inserted at 50 cents per square for the first insertion, and 'is cents for each continuance— Twelve lines to constitute a square. A liberal deduction to yearly advertisers. ffr No letters taken from the Post Office unless postage free. Officers Augusta \V. T. A Society# Dr. DANIEL HOOK, President. Rev. WM. J. HARD, J “ C. S. DOD. > Vice Presidents HAWKINS HUFF, Esq. ) WM. HAINES, Jr. Secretary. L. D. LALLERSTEDT, Treasurer. Y¥l& IF AfiUM.FIa From Ellsworth’s Report for 18-15. Okra# Washington City, Jan. 15, 1845 Dear Sir :— I take the liberty to call your attention to the cultivation of one of the most valuable of vegetables, destined, at no distant day, to expel from our markets one of the most extensive arti cles of imports, and now admitted free of duty. I mean okra, whose excellence in soup is universally known and ac knowledged. Its ripe seeds burned and used as coffee, cannot be distinguished therefrom; and many persons of the most fastidious taste have not been able to distinguish it from the best “Java.” It is very easily grown. The seeds may be sown in May, in drills 4 feet asunder, an inch deep and eight inches apart, and cultivated like corn or peas. It sends up a strong stalk, and vieids a great abun dance of seeds, and the “ coffee” made from it is very healthy. I think it mat ter of great importance, especially to the Western States, and herewith* send a bag of seeds for distribution. Very respectfully, J. F. CALLAN. Hon. H. L. Ellsworth. Extract from the Farmer's Encyclo pedia.—Okra, ( hibiscus csculenlis.) — This plant is extensively cultivated in the West Indies, from whence it has been introduced into the United States. The pods are gathered green, and used in soups. They form an important ingre dient in the celebrated gumbo soup of New Orleans, and other Southern places. The pods are filled with seeds and a mu cilage, of a bland and highly nutritious quality. Hence the okra is frequently recommended to persons afflicted with dysentery and other bowel complaints, eaten either boiled or made into soup. When buttered and spiced, they afford a rich dish ; and, with vinegar, they make a good pickle. The plant comes to ma turity in the Middle States, and the pods arc abundant in the Philadelphia mar ket. Those who become once accus tomed to this wholesome vegetable, con tract a great fondness lor its peculiar flavor. In Louisianna, and other South ern States, a dinner is scarcely consider ed complete without okra cooked in some way or other; and the poor consider it one of their greatest blessings. The pods are of a proper size when two or three inches long, but may be used as long as they remain tender. If fit for use, they will snap asunder at the ends; but if too old and woody, they must be rejected. One peck of the tender pods are to be cut crosswise into very thin slices, not exceeding one-eighth of an inch in thickness; to this quantity, add about one-third of a peck of Tomatoes, previously peeled and cut into pieces.— The proportion of tomatoes may be va ried to suit the taste. A coarse piece of beef (a shin is generally made use of) is placed in a pot or digester, with about and a half gallons of water, and a very small quantity of salt. This is per mitted to boil a few minutes, when the scum is taken off, and the okra and to matoes are thrown in. With these in gredients, in the proportions mentioned, the soup is very fine. Still, some think it improved by the addition of green corn, Lima beans, &c. The most es sential thing to be attended to is the boiling, and the excellency of the soup depends almost entirely on this being done faithfully; for, if it be not boiled enough, however well the ingredients may have been selected and proportion ed, the soup will be very inferior, and give but little idea of the delightful fla vor it possesses when well done. A properly constructed digester, is deci dedly the best vessel for boiling this or any other soup in; but, where such a utensil is not at hand, an earthen pot should be preferred; but on no account make use of an iron one, as it would turn the whole soup perfectly black, in stead of the proper color, viz: green, colored with the rich yellow of toma toes. The i. time required for boiling okra soup is about five hours; during which it should be occasionally stirred, and the ingredients mashed.— AUGUSTA WASHINGTONIAN. A WEEKLY PAPER: DEVOTED TO TEMPERANCE, AGRICULTURE, & MISCELLANEOUS READINGS. Vol. III.] When taken off, the original quantity will be reduced to about one half, and the meat “ done to rags,” the whole forming a homogeneous mass, of the consistence of thick porridge. A Domestic Chat. BY MRS. HELLEN C. KNIGHT. “ This is pleasant!” exclaimed a young husband taking his seat cosily in the rocking chair, as the tea-things were re moved. The fire glowed in the grate, revealing a pretty and neatly furnished setting room with all the appliances of comfort. The fatiguing business of the day was over, and ho sat enjoying, what he had all day been anticipating, the de lights of his own fireside. His pretty wife, Esther, took her work and sat down by his side at the table. “ It is pleasant to have a home of one’s own,” he said again, taking a satisfacto ry survey of his snug little quarters.— The cold rain beat against the windows, and he thought he felt grateful for his present comforts. “ Now if we could only have a piano?” said the wife. “ Give me the music of your sweet voice before all the pianos in creation,” lie declared, complimentary, despite a certain secret disappointment that his wife’s thankfulness did not happily chime with his own. “Well, but we want one for our friends,” said Esther. “ Let our friends come to see us, and not to hear a pianol” exclaimed the hus band. “ Hut George, every body has a piano now-a days—we don’t go any where without seeing a piano,” persisted the wife. “ And yet I don’t know what we want one for—you will have no time to play on one, and [ dont want to hear it.” “ Why, they are so fashionable—l think our room looks nearly naked with out one.” “ I think it looks just right.” “ I think it looks very naked—we want a piano shockingly,” protested Esther, emphatically. The husband rocked violently. “Your lamp smokes, my dear,” he said after a long pause. “ When are you going to get an astral lamp? I have told you a dozen times how much we needed one,” said Esther, pettishly. “ Those are very pretty lamps—l nev er can see to read by an astral lamp,” declared the husband. “ Those will do, but you know every body now-a days wants an astral lamp.” “ Those lamps are the prettiest of the kind I ever saw—they were bought at Boston.” “ But, George, I do not think our room is complete without an astral lamp,” said the wife sharply; “ they are so fashiona ble—why, the I) -’s and A ’.% all have them ; I am sure we ought to.” “ We ought to if we take pattern by other people’s expenses, and I don’t see any reason for that.” The husband moved uneasily in his chair. “We want to live as well as others live,” said Esther. “ We want to live within our means, Esther?” exclaimed George. “ I am sure I should think we could af fore it as well as the B ’s and L ’s, and many others I might mention —we do not wish to appear mean.” George’s cheek crimsoned. “ Mean ! I am not mean,” he cried angrily. “ Then we do not want to appear so,” said the wife. “To complete this room, and make it look like other peoples, we want a piano and an astral lamp.” “We want —we want!” muttered the husband, “ theres no satisfying the wo man’s wants, do what you may,” and he abruptly left the room. How many husbands are in a similar dilemma! How many homes and hus bands are rendered uncomfortable by the constant dissatisfaction of a wife with present comforts and present provisions ! How many bright prospects for business have ended in bankruptcy and ruin, in order to satisfy this secret hankering af ter fashionable necessaries. Could the real cause of many a failure be made known, it would be found to result from useless expenditures at home —expenses to answer the demands of fashion, and— “what will people think?” “My wife has made my fortune,” said a gentleman of great possessions, AUGUSTA, GA. JUNE 21, 1845. “by her thrift, prudence and cheerfulness when I was just beginning.” “And mine has lost my fortune,” answered his companion, bitterly, “ by useless extrav agance, and repining when 1 was doing well.” What a world does this open to the influence which a wife possesses over the future prosperity of her family. Let the wife know her influence, and try to use it wisely and well.” Be satisfied to commence small. It is too common for young housekeepers to begin where their mothers ended. Buy all that is necessary to work skilfully with; adorn your house with all that will render it comfortable. Do not look at rich homes, and covet their costly furniture. If secret dissatisfaction is ready to spring up, go a step farther and visit the homes of the poor and suffer ing; behold dark, cheerless apartments, insufficient clothing, and absence of all the comforts and refinements of social life, then return to your own with joyful spirit. You will then be prepared to meet your husband with a grateful heart, and be ready to appreciate that toil and self-denial which he has endured in his business world to surround you with all the delights of home; then you will be ready to co-operate cheerfully with him in so arranging your expenses, that his mind will not be constantly harrassed with fears, iest family expenditures may encroach upon public payments. Be independent; a young housekeeper nev er needed greater moral courage than she now does to resist the arrogance of fashion. Do not let the A’s and B ’s decide what you must have; neither lot them hold the string of your purse. You know best what you can and ought to afford ; then decide with a strict integrity, according to your means. Let not the censures and approval of the world ever tempt you to buy what you hardly think you can afford. It matters little what they think, provided you are true to yourself and your fam i'y- Thus pursuingan independent, straight forward and consistent course of action, there will spring up peace and joy all around you. Satisfied and happy your self, you will make your husband so, and your children will feel the warm and sun ny influence. Happy at home, your husband then can go into the world with a clear head and self relying spirit; do mestic bickerings will not sour and sully his heart, and he will return to you again with a confiding and unceasing love.— Depend upon it, beauty, grace, wit, ac complishments, have far less to do with family joys, and family coinfort, than prudence, economy, thrift, and good sense. A husband may get tired of ad miring, but never with the comfortable consciousness that his receipts exceeds his demands. Beautiful Sketch. One day the Queen of Sheba gave Solomon a ring, with many score of ox en. She bade him bestow it on the wi sest of his sages. So Solomon com manded his wise men to appear before him on the feast of the full moon. They came from Bethel and Dan, the court and the school of the prophets. Then King Solomon, arrayed in the the regal robes, sat on his throne, the sceptre of Israel in his right hand. The Queen of Sheba sat beside him. He commanded his sages to speak. Many opened their mouths and discoursed right eloquently. They told of many things. The eyes of the Queen shone like dew drops which quiver at sunrise on the peach blossoms. Solomon was sad. At last one rose of courtly mein. He told of wonderous cities in far off lands. How the sun scalds the dews of Sahara. How it forsakes the chill north for whole months, leaving the cold moon in its place. He spoke of the fleets that go down to the sea; he told how they weave wax at Tyrus, spin gold at Ophir; and of the twisted shell that comes from Oroba, and the linen in Egypt, that endures the fire. He spoke of fleets; of laws; the art that makes men happy. “Truly, he is wise,” said the king. But let others speak. Another came forth, he was young in years. His cheek was burning with en thusiasm. The fire of genius shone in his eyes like the day star, when all the others are swallowed up in the light.— He spoke of the works of the great one. Told how the Cedar of Lebanon, when the sun kisses its forehead, lifts up its great arms with a shout, shaking off’ the feathery snow in winter, or the pearly dew of autumn, to freshen the late cal ma that glitters at its foot. He spoke of the elephant, the antelope, the jackal, the eagle, the mule. He knew them all. He told of the fish that made glad wa ters as the seasons dance and froiic round their head. He sang in liquid softness, of the rose to the stars, spoke of old chaos, of the world, the offering of love. He spoke of the stars; the crown; Naz areth, and the tall ladder Jacob saw.— He sang again the star of creation. “ He is wiser than Solomon,” said the king; “to him belongs the prize.” But at that moment some men in hum ble garb, brought a stranger, unwilling along. His raiment was poor, but comely and snow white. The seal of labor was on his hand; the dust of trav. el covered his sandals. His beard, long and silvery, went down to his girdle; a sweet smile, like a sleeping infant sat, unconscious, on his lip. His eye was the angel’s lamp, that burns in still devo tion before the court of Paradise, making the day. As he leaned on the shepherd staff in the gay court, a blush like a girl’s stole over his cheek. “Speak,” said the king. “I have nothing to say,” exclaimed the hoary man. “I know only how unwise and frail I am. lam no sage. And Solomon’s countenance rose.— “ By the sceptre of El-Shaddon I charge thee to speak thou ancient man.” Then he began. “My study is my self; my acts, my sentiments. I learn how frail I am, I of myself, can do noth ing. I can listen to that voice within ; and 1 know all; I can do all!” Then he spoke of his glees and his glooms, his hopes; his operations; his faith.— He spoke of nature; the modest trees, the pure golden stars. When he came to Him who “ is all in all,” he bowed his face and was dumb. “Givo him the ring,” said Solomon. “ Ho knows himself, he is the wisest.— The spirit of the holy is in him.” “Take back the gift,” said the sage, “I need it not. He that knows himself needs no reward. He knows God. He sees the All of things. Alas! Ido but feebly know myself—l deserve no ring. Let me return to my home and my duty.” — N. Y. Mirror. Western Heroines# Cincinnati, May 12th, 1845. Mr. Cist ; —As opportunity' now of fers, I will proceed to redeem my prom ise, by giving you another of “ Old Tim Watkins’” tales. On the Illinois river, near two hundred miles from its junc tion with the Mississippi, there lived at the time I write of, an old pioneer, known in those days as “ Old Parker, the squatter.” His family consisted of a wile and three children, the oldest a boy of nineteen, a girl of seventeen, and the youngest a boy of fourteen. At the time of which we write, Parker and his oldest boy had gone in company with three Indians on a hunt, expecting to be absent some five or six days. The third day after the departure, one of the In dians returned to Parker’s house, came in and sat himself down by the fire, lit his pipe and commenced smoking in si lence. Mrs. Parker thought nothing of this, as it was no uncommon thing for one, or sometimes more of a party of Indians to return abruptly from a hunt, at some sign they might consider omin ous of bad luck, and in such instances were not very communicative. But at last the Indian broke silence with “ ugh, old Parker die.” This exclamation im mediately drew Mrs. Parker’s attention, who directly inquired of the Indian, what’s the matter with Parker? The Indian responded, Parker sick, tree fell on him, you go, he die. Mrs. Parker then asked the Indian if Parker sent for her, and where he was? The replies of the Indian somewhat aroused her sus picions. She however came to the con clusion to send her son with the Indian to see what was the matter. The boy and Indian started. That night passed, and the next day too, and neither the boy or Indian returned. This confirmed Mrs. Parker in her opinion, that there was foul play on the part of the Indians. So she and her daughter went to work and barricaded the door and windows in the best way they could. The young est boy’s rifle was the only one left, he not having taken it with him when he went to see after his father. The old lady took the rifle, the daughter the axe, and thus armed, they determined to watch through the night, and defend themselves, if necessary. They had not WASHINGTONIAN TOTAL ABSTINENCE PLEDGE. > We, whose names are hereunto an nexed, desirous of forming a Society for our mutual benefit, and to guard against a pernicious practice, which is injurious to our health, standing and families, do Se ourselves as Gentlemen, not to any Spirituous or Malt Liquors, Wine or Cider. [No. 49 long to wait after night fall, for shortly after that, some one commenced knock ing at the door, crying out, mother! mother! but Mrs. Parker thought the voice was not exactly like that of her son—in order to ascertain the fact, she said, “Jake, where are the Indians?”— The reply, which was “ uni gone,” sat isfied her on that point. She then said as if speaking to her son, put your ear to the latch-hole, I want to tell you something before I open the door. The head was placed at the latch-hole, and the old lady fired her rifle through the same spot, and killed an Indian. Sho stepped back from the door instantly, and it was well she did so, for quicker than I have penned the last two words, two rifle bullets came crashing through the door. The old lady then said to her daughter, thank God, there is but two, I must have killed the one at the door—‘they mnst be the three who went on the hunt with your father. If we can only kill or crip ple another one of them, we will be safe ; now we must both be still after they fire again, and they will then break the door down, and I may be able to shoot an other one; but if I miss them when get ting in, you must use the axe. The daughter equally courageous with her mother, assured her that she would.— Soon after this conversation, two more rifle bullets came crashing through the window. A death-like stillness ensued for about five minutes, when two more balls, in quick succession, were fired thro’ the door, then followed a tremendous punching with a log, the door gave way, and with a fiendish yell an Indian was about to spring in. when the unerring rifle, fired by the gallant old lady, stretch ed his lifeless body across the threshold of the door. The remaining, or more properly surviving Indian, fired at ran dom and ran, doing no injury. “Now,” said the old heroine to her undaunted daughter, “we must leave.” According ly, with the rifle and the axe, they went to the river, took the canoe, and without a mouthful of provision, except one wild duck and two black-birds, which the mother shot, and which were eaten raw, did these two courageous hearts in six days arrive among the old French set tlers at St. Louis. A party of about a dozen men crossed over into Illinois, and after an unsuccessful search, returned without finding either Parker or his boys. They were never found. There are yet some of the old settlers in the neighborhood of Peoria, who still point out the spot whero “ old Parker the squatter” lived. Respectfully, G. Redoing. Cist's Advertiser .] Juvenile Courage. We lately met with an account of an incident which occurred in the town of Weser in Germany, in which a remarka ble degree of courage and presence of mind was manifested by a lad only seven years of age. He was playing one day with his sister of four years old, when he was alarmed by the cry of some men who were in pursuit of a mad dog. The child suddenly looking around him, saw the dog running towards him-—but in stead of making his escape, he took off his coat, and wrapping it around his arm boldly faced the dog, and holding out the arm covered with the coat, the animal attacked it, and worried the coat until the men came up, who, being armed with clubs, killed the dog. The men reproach fully asked the boy, why he did not run, and avoid the dog, which he could so ae sily have done. “ Yes,” said the little he ro, “I could have run from the dog; but if I had, he would have attacked my sis ter. To protect her, however, I thought of offering him my coat which he might tear at till you should come up and kill him. The men, as well they might, first admired his courage in facing the dog; but they were more astonished at the prudence and firmness of mind discovered by this phenomenon. The conduct of this wonderful child furnishes a useful hint to persons of more mature age, in protecting themselves from the at tack of a mad dog. A Man came to a Printing office to beg a paper, “because,” says he, “we like to read the newspapers very much, but our neighbors don’t take none!” A young lady from the interior of the State of New York, (says the Tribune,) has just been married to her second hus band: she is now years old, and married her first husband when she was ill.