Muscogee democrat. (Columbus, Ga.) 184?-18??, September 06, 1849, Image 4

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CVgricuttur - A r - : 2SS9?Sjb “Agriculture ipbotli a acieijcc and an o r t. The know ledge of all tin* condition* of tli* life of Vegetables, the origin of their element** unci the source* ol tlicir nourish incut, forms its scientific banin.’’ ucuio. CHAS. A. PEABODY, EDITOR. COLUMBI’S, GA., SKPT. 6, 1810. —li. - “” n tt M -- ■■■ 1 ■■ ■■■—- Lotlcrs from .Mr. Peabody.—\o. ?. Washington City, August 24, 1849. j Dear Sir; My last left me iu Greensbor- 1 otigb. Thence to Augusta the route was ex-j tremely dusty, and had there been any Agrirul- ■ tural beauties, it would have been impossible to j have beheld them. Nothing occurred to break j the monotony of a Railroad ride until we arrived ‘ In Augusta; where, as the splended Omnibus took the passengers from the cars to the hotel, we > TT;— r e : pay expenses to-mgb • Bythistimt up some other time, sajsOmn nearii^tlHj^kJi 1 1C you go through 1 > the Hoosil . r . “Why, “Through whar >_ ,he agent, (waving sir, if you go through, >nys ° his hand towards the “Id— J * wli . nothing for your Omn.lms an I’ll go through, 111 "’ , y >io Slllttll amusement o the opposite door, to °* n, ” C - A ', ,llC an d'after delightful m.ngtonW, through which the route was rapid. ” indifferent. — V„,hld. but most of the crops were uiddler n beheld, mn mu. ■ before the sight of pine, when , f,t'Miss Landon cotne foiu’ ) l •■Hold up your heads ye fore* pines. Wave priully in the breeze, ■ Oar coffin boards and cradle bands Are made from such as these. O. ,to whole, lh ,rip “’* I’'““' “? r Z , Vrirth Carolina and \ irgmia. through Wh Cat n|( iniuk3 0 f poverty, 1,1 S \ d e li„ h tf u rspots, and ldo not but thero arc some dc!i„ I blame the old negro when he iJiamc ino vnv. .. r, Oh carry tnc hack, oh carry me back, | To old Vi rein ny shore. , Tirana were Illy fifty eentsper dozen; irassodj Potomac we In pass must be too poor > fovcil) ly struck with 2 ‘dccT venmtU which all and tongues, have for the ‘ ,on As the bell commenced tolling,^ . „is the custom of aTMroats in passing.) be r s “ t silence Not a word was spoken dt m solemn silence. ring the passage, and forcignei as Scan, felt tbattbe name of W asb.ngton “Was freedom’s now. and fame , Oneof tho few of the immortal names, That were not born to die. That were not born to die. , Arrived Wuvhi,.glo.>. 1! people bc„ on ,hei, .y Norih. ‘ H iJon look. Kvol.V * Nl "’ Y " k - ‘.“ i rs ,“. .nomine M *. Pnlon. Ota. •*>• . lone,l bnd .O Mr.Enl,,nk,Ol.e C„..,. i umnd MaicnifQin and mifieimiAi didabtsksi. 1 sures mo there will be no difficulty, notwilhstand-! ing so many of our countrymen seem eager for the fray. The steam ship of war sent to Hav ana, has gone to bear despatches to our Consul. I find that Georgia is taking high rank among the States in the estimation of intelligent men ) for her immense resources, and the develop ment of them. I shall leave to-morrow for Phil adelphia, and will write you again from New York. Gen. Taylor is now m route for Syracuse, consequently 1 have not had an opportunity of looking upon the old hero. Mr. Crawford in forms me that he takes a deep interest in Agri culture, in fact that it is a passion with him, and that he looks upon Agriculture as paramount to every other interest. The Capitol has been newly painted, and is white as the driven snow. 1 felt, when looking upon the grandeur and mag nitude of the pile, and the majestic beauty of its proportions, that it was worthy of a great people, and that 1, too, held u share in it. Yours, C. A. P. i Bridgeport, Conn., Aug. 28, 1849. I Dear Sir : !\ly last left me at Washington City. S Alter looking all the curiosities of the Capital, I Kuiiroad depot, aud again, oii a I sped tnjßyny Noithwaid. From Wash : City w*jpgin to behold the highly cnlti the rural cottage, and the splendid vatc d (3t Crops begin to look luxuriant, and sci ’ j palace. begins to display itself; and as -! cnce iu the \\hole country is j we Put New .lerseytak^ real scientific Ruling. With a soil much like our ’ „ the vicieity of Columbus, her grounds are. ! teeming with most luxuriant crop,- es clover, fruits, vegetable. , „ 1 l v >- ** p :!;i u ;::r i<>ui J Why do not our own sandy n , ak J it ? I will tell you the reason. , \ we 1 ~ / nothing back-leaving the all away and pay noin g Observed > I Se w JeLy! workmen engaged in digging on. I-* ! U- *" J Of™ ,t“ Vdon,r.iti"”.i Ne :r:r"X^.unnnr,kn .t, corns turned into man imam soulless marble, and man, the ever busy'nan,, - L„n.l rooked , 1. “ I streets at noonday. ii S,c,n„.ln.n.Onvnnl; ognln n’ilh n ronr >nd . * h . , , .be city of Bridgeport, Conn. Sid*- >* ■” “ I „„,c,uld-noMelWl.e.ln-tWlnnd.w,.,. livnled C “'I *^l I— SuXon ‘■ Thll ‘lSn''''”” Iking lo P l ” < hi > “ l ,W !“ ‘Tgln A do.ovip.ion cHh. H.n.10. - in,ld...enon ::r^>o 1,1 Avill give you a little descrpt.on, as ,t strikes m , p , -o TANARUS, Im l. n,cU,nin.nre,.in ,1,1. pl.ce, l. 1 ,r 8- ,',l, rolled ,ny Idons, eirniten ont my hmr, and „ 11 become composed, before 1 can g” ° Jj* hc sketch. As soon as I have rusticated a little, I in P shall be off for Syracuse, where all the S r “ * v er ‘ ture and Horticulture of the country j, * cd represented. Cholera is disappearing ,1 du ’ the country, and all is life and animation , lcl ’ I more. C. A. P. j A ours, Value of Corn Stalks as Fodder. The question is often asked, if corn stalks arc of much use as fodder. Weanswer, w.the > * of contradiction, that it well saved, and prope |y used, they are fully equal to tho same weigh , iof Last year we f„d^|ogjjjjoncorn i-. cut too late, the sugar contained in the juice will become acid before they are dry.— The Working Tanner. The Old Farm House. BY MARY A. LAWSON. I love these grey and moss-grown walls, This ivied porcli, this treliis’d vine, The lattice with its narrow pane, A relic of the olden time,; The willow and its waving leaves, Thro’ which the low winds murmuring glide, The gurgling ripple of the stream, That whispers softly at iUiside. The spring house in its shalwnook, Like lady’s bower shadowed o’er With clustering trees and creeping plants, That cling around —’ The rough hewrisfopsj thatlend their aid, To reach the shady, cool recess, Wfiere humble duty spreads a scene That hourly comfort Icarus to bless. Upland and meadow lies around, Fair smiling iu the sun’s last beam ; Beneath yon solitary tree The lazy cattle idly dream, Alter the reaper's stroke descends. While faintly on tlie listening ear The teamster’s careless whistle doats, Or distant song or call I hear. And leaning on a broken stile, With woods behind and fields before, I watch tlie hoe who homeward wends With laden wing—his labors o'er; The happy birds are warbling round ; Or nestle in the rustling trees, ’Mid which the blue sky glimmers down, When parted by the passing breeze. Ami slowly winding up the road.^. The wain has j.’.-iit\’ WtV.lli ■P’JHnidtlie dream land ot my thought, With smiling lip l own is reab Yet fancy’s fairest vision* blend With alt I Ht‘C and ail 1 led. Then tell me not of worldly pride 1 Ami wild ambition’s hopes o fan e, Or brilliant halls of wealth and pride, thirds and floors, With calm contentment, peace and heallli, And memories of my earlier hours. , „ his a difficult mat lt.,\7 convince some people that in this the, prop-’ M, I,llc nvor, oi-on,n.l„no „ * ! piodncti, :rr,r. L fess ho .tvnnglo wilk iUn ,nv ,f o. oOho n. , I ed* will produco a* fine Ivuit „• any section of j n ■ nSS • o'"”’ ‘> * in l; u i ,e i? or AS"“£:r- “p * Mumeafone ofthe river landings and on their I It’ arr jval several had thrown out shoots six inch in eslo-g, and the spring had so lar advance at being sometimes in April-that we had ve. nd :iml 8 ! space the roots had originally occu .! S “-n aToo. wore .ton pUnto i*• \\ Hal u j iu,rt tri'CS crew Oil CTIuH and the third all abundantly for and •o„n<T trees. The fruit was superior. Adjoin C rheso trees, about twenty-two years ol Trees raised in the neighborhood, were plante 1 the November previous, in the same untune ‘| tace a , nlanline was twice that of tho othe, I At*he end of .he second year the spring pin. the si/.e ut the Bee-Stings— How Cured.— The venom or ii poison of the honey-bee is very active —rather , more so than that of the wasp. The fluid is of a transparent nature, and when applied to the , tongue imparts a sweet taste. It is not neces- i sary that the fluid should be imparted from the j sling of a bee, to produce pain and swelling : tho puncture of a needle, with the fluid on its point, would produce precisely the same es. feet. I The activity of the poison depends somewhat lon the temperature of the weather. During I ’ tlie heat of summer it causes much greater in llainiiiation than in the winter season. 1 Some persons are much more affected by j stings than others; jjiktis owing to a peculiar • . state o£jJhW ty dem or blood, as it exists in dis. I ferent people. I The only positive and immediate euro for a : ! bee-sting, that 1 have ever heard of, that may : be depended on in all cases, is tobacco. This ; | remedy was recommended to me as an infalli ble cure ; yet I had but little tailb in it, still 1 i tffed it, hud, as I <supposed, properly, and found j \ little or no benefit from its use. 1 reported its j failure to cure, in my own case, to my inform i nut, and he stated that 1 had not applied it ‘ ! thoroughly, as I ought to have done ; that he j i ; was certain that it would be an effectual cure, ‘ i ! never having known it to fail in a single ill- j l 1 stance, when properly applied. The next time ! | f got Slimy, I applied the tobacco as directed, ! 1 and found it to cure like a i The manner of applying it is asi follows : , Take ordinary fine.cut smolP“^i^m|4jg|ftA^| Imi ! is a pinci^Mtf bauii.ii/ - '; no>i dark colon'll ; thou a; j.iy it stung, rubbing in the juice, with the tfßjbacco between your thumb and fingers, as a sponge. As fast as the tobacco becomes di®r a ,!d a Tittle moisture and continue to rub, ! atHd press out the juice upon the inflamed spot, | ,' U i>ing live or ten minutes, and if applied soon 1 afiMr being stung, if will cure in every case ’ HeJfctrej tried it, 1 was frequently laid up will gjCwoilTm eyes uiul limbs for days : now it ii I to get stung. 1 MMiner's American Bee-Keeper's Mutual. \KTiIB OKIIII.NAL SKCKtL I*c Alt 1 HE7..—-AI I . \\m. D. Brinklo, ill a letter published in the llMirticultuvirt lor January, gives the following acSounl of a visit to the original tree, which | m jK given to our country one of its most luscious pcalrs 1 WVsterday, in company with rny friend, Ur. j Kml-rson. l'visited, for the first time, the Ori „im|| Seckel Pear Tree. Dr- E. has long been ’ familiar with this tree ; and very kindly offered Ito talke me to it. It was pointed out to him, | man)! years ago, by George Shaeff, Esq., “ 0 1 owns! much property in its immediate vicinity. I This lvenoralile tree stands in a meadow in BassJu.ik township, loss than a quarter of a , mile I tom the Delaware opposite League island, j ( not mime than half a mile from the mouth ol j , the Sclhnykill, and about three and a halt miles j from Use city of Philadelphia. The property on which It stands is a portion of the Girard Ls- j late, aikl now belongs to the city. This is one Jbe-ls.wrst-tserkhr pear trees 1 have even, seen, measuring moic than six feet in circnm- i 1 sere nee, ont, |„<,t nlmve the ground, and tour . feet nine iWhes in circumference, five feet higher up. It is about thirty feet high. The j head of the Leshas the unusual rounded ap pearatiCP so clisuaeteristic of this variety, and j is in good condition. Tho trunk to the height! of s ix feet i,s very much decayed on its south- j western side. The bark, half way round the ■ trunk, is entirely gone, together with a great portion of the wood itself, leaving a large hoi- | low in tho tree. Such being tbe condition of the trunk, i is greatly to be feared that the tree n i will not h&able to stand the blast of many more l . , o j winters. Correspondence ot the Mobile Tiibune. Sr. Stei'hkns, Aug. 25, IS-19. In ymr paper ofthe2oth, I saw a notice o( I some corn produced in your vicinity. May l ‘ | l>e‘ r ofjou to procure for me an ear of No. 3. 1 - \ w i|| jeiid you a roasting.ear of e.orn procured II | in Olio, which, in another season I think will h I coniftro practically with any other. ‘• i I’u vy been fur years trying to get possession Id j o f-thclSj* variety of corn for the roasting-ear, !t ’ i n convenes of being extremely gratified by r ’ 1 the tis/t it, and believing as I do, that 1 have ir ’ 1 inientli a inode of preparation that does away se 1 against it of being indigestible, &c, rs - | yhv Ibt'g of*you to try it, and if you do not fine nt- - l|a * J,fect preparation, in all respect, pleast icv j nek A into the mail and 1 will pay the post ■ state nt ripene.’ “I ‘retri.’ I \i_tme to a luke warm temperature, and give it as a drink to the cow. In forty eight hours, she will he dry. For some days her food should be dry and unsucculent —no water being allowed. The Town Child and the Country Child. BY ALLAN CUNNING AM. Child of the country free as air Art thou, and as the sunshine fair; Born, like the lily, where the dew Lies odorous when the day is new; Fed, ’rnid the May flowers like the bee, Nursed to sweet music on the knee. Lulled on the breast to that glad tnne Which winds make ’mong the woods of June: I sing of thee—’tis sweet to sing Os such a a fair and gladsome thing. Child of the town ! for thee I sigh ; A gilded roofs thy golden sky— A carpet is thy daisied sod— A narrow street thy boundless road— Thy rushing deer ’a the clattering tramp Os watchmen—thy best light’s a lamp— Trough smoke, and not through, trellised vines. And blooming trees, thy sunbeam shines, I sing of thee in sadness ; where Else ia wreck wrought in aught so fair ? To Correct Sourness in Milk, Ckraxi and Bread.— lt is not generally known that the sourness of milk and cream may be inline diately corrected by the addition of a small quan tity of the common carbonate of magnesia, in powder. Half a teaspoonful^faly/it equal to four grains) may be milled U milk or slightly of sourness. two to three grains may be added to every pound of flour to prevent sourness in bread, so injurious lo some constitutions. Carbonate of soda is sometimes employed lor the same purpose, but it communicates a very unpleasant flavor to the bread, and, in the case of milk or cream, is worse than the disease. The Country Girls. A correspondent ot lire \\ indham count), A t. ‘goes on’ as follows, in relation to a recent let ter of Mrs. SwUsbelm to Country Girls : ‘Spoakin of fashionable ladies, reminds meot somethin l want to say to the country gals.— You see, Mr. Editor, there’s a Mrs. Sirmkrlm, 1 who edits a paper away out in Pennsylvania she’s a mighty smart woman as the Hoosiers ‘ | gay and she's been printiu letters to country ! gals in her paper, and the paper* all round the j country have been copyin ’em. In one ol her ’ letters she lectured the gals about keepin their ! hands soft, and told ’em they were to blame it they did’nt, and that they could’nt quilt so last, j nor du things so quick and well, and that they 1 should wear gloves when they handled mops i and brooms, and did things to make their hands hard. Well you see, Mr. Editor, I kept the pa per up; but some how our gals found it, and the ’ fust i knew, one day Jacob cum in from the gar den, laughin nndslmkin his sides, and soon as he could speak, says he, ‘Debby, 1 11 give it up; j gals will be gals, bring ’em up as womanlike j and sensibly ns you will.’ Dear me, says 1, ; what is the matter? Du tell what’s happened. Our gals hadn’t done nothin flighty I hope ? ; *ila, ha, ha,’ says Jacob, says he, *ha,ha, Deb. by, jest look out and see Polly and Dolly, a weiji din the beds with their gloves on.’ And sure e. nuts, Mr. Editor, if there want two as sensible j gals as you’d ginerally find, pokin the earth with their gloved fingers ! Says Jacob, says he, ! ‘Dubby, that'll never du; the gloves ’ll cost j ; more than the hire of a man to do the weed in. 1 j Well, Mr. Editor, this aint all the mischief | i that letter did. I went into my nighest neigh- : 1 bor’s—Miss Larry bee has ten gals ; the oldest 1 ones grown up, sizeable wimin; and l see in a j minit somethin troubled her despuily, for she’s ! a raal cheerful body gineral, and sees inure sun i shine than most of lolks. W hat s the matter ! Miss Larrybee? says I. ‘Oh. Miss Van NV m- I kle,’ says she, ‘l’m so glad to see you; for the | girls and I are at variance ; but they If listen to j you, I’m sure ; you’ve bin to Washington and ! seen the Presidents lady, and know the ways of ( ! the world. Don’t you think they’ve bin readm ; ‘ p a letter to country gals about keepin their bands ; [ soft and their complexions fair, and that they j [ must du their work with gloves on, and must nt j 1 ‘ cook over a wood fire, and all that nonsense. ; i ’ And here this mornin, Becky Ann asked for ; I some new gloves ; and Patty said she must! I have a pair; and Betsey and Sally and Molly all j . | followed suit. 1 was musingly put out o’ sorts ; ’ ! for I’d got ’em all new gloves only a month ago, j l i and they’ve always made a pair last all summer; j I but I kept calm, and begun to enquire how it ; ; S happened ; and don’t you think, Patty had burnt ‘j ; her’s up, taking the pots and kettles off the tire; j Becky had split her’s skoweringthc knives; and ; : Sally had swept in her’s; Molly s were split * , hoeing in the garden, and so with ’em all.— 3S | That letter from a city lady to country gals, had | cost their father six pair ol kid gloves. Bui t 1 this ain’t all; they must nt put their hands in is weedin the garden in gloves, and washin dishes with a cloth lied it won’t signify seein they don’t have and then a quilt to make, and all they’d gain in doin it wouldn’t be* gin to makeup the time they’d loose in puttin on and taken off their gloves to du these every day duties, to say nothin about its bein awkward takin longer to do ’em with the gloves on. No Mr. Editor, give me the man or woman who ie ready to grap the necessary as well as fife a greeahle in this life, with ungloved kands and fearless heart. Your Friend, Deborah Vast Winkle.’ In answer to the above. Mrs. Swis.helm say 9 : ‘We do feel worried at the peck of trouble Mrs. Van \\ inkle and Mrs. Larrybee have got* | ten into by our unlucky letter. ‘.But gals will lie gals until they get husbands, an’ no use try in to make ay thing else uv ’em. No matte-r how much good advice you they will just take as much as they please, and not one’ j inite more ! Here theso young Van Winkle? ■ and Larry bees, instead of knitting a pair of good | * tn l gloves that would last two years, and only take a cut ot yarn and a little spare time, must needs to go to work to wear out - * to mcetin fix ins’ in the kitchen .gjaoo ja3oo> scourin knives and pullin ••''in. and no u ‘Older ’ Je should rile ‘Then to men to nave’mmn on a stick 1 It is not ourself who would stand it. If they will make dishwa ter so hot as to scald their hands, we would e’en make them put their hands in and scald them, •just to lain ’em I Patty ought to be ashamed ofherselfto take her new gloves to lift the pots and kettles off the fire, instead of keeping an old rag for that purpose, as we hade her. If this is the way tho Yankee girls follow our advice, we shall have to give them a talkin to.’ Curing Haras, The Southern Cultivator gives the following receipt for curing the Gwinett county Ilams which were exhibited at the late Stone Moun* tain Fair. The Hams were one, two, three, and four years old, and were fresh and firm ‘‘Procure some good, clean hickory ashes, have them perfectly dry ; draw your meat from the pickle on a dry day ; sprinkle the ashes o ver the meat pretty thick, being careful not to knock off more salt than what must fall off'; then hang up your meat as high as possible ; smoke it with cool smoke, made by hickory wood ; be sure to take it down before the skipper-fly makes his appearance, being generally, in this climate, Ist of March; pack it away on a dry day in casks: Ist a layer of hams in perfectly dry hickory ashes— ‘id, a course of corn cobs, Acc. ; • cover your cask snug and tight—and you may rest easy about your hams.” Camomile. —A few roots of this plant should have a place in every garden. Not only are its medical qualities highly valuable, but its presence among vegetables is supposed to be an Afigis of protection against many diseases o, „ irirti ttrey are subject. TTshould be Irani lated into warm and rich soil, early in the spring, and be assisted, during its early derel opeinent, by copious manuring, and frequent pressure. When plants, late in the season, ex. | hibit symptoms of decay or general debility, the planting of a small root of Camomile in their j vicinage, is frequently the most pcedy and effi cacious remedy that can be applied. The odor, lor aroma, diffused by this plant's also known to be highly repellant to many kinds of aliger ous insects, and its presence amaig those spe. i cies of plants and vegetables inPsted by such i enemies, will protect them mos effectually 1 than almost any other agent Inown, and at comparatively small expense. Fresh Egos.—Fresh, well ; reserved eggs A always command a high pricesn tbe markets of this country, and are, not uniVquenily, very scarce and difficult to obtain. ”he following mle for their preservation, we abcract from an exchange ; ‘ln conversation, not long since, with one of our most discriminating and judicius farmers, on the subject of keeping eggs, be hfonned me i that only a few weeks since he tookto market, a quantity of eggs he had kept in pirfeet ord-r ’ for a period of seven months. I’ll) manner in ! which they were kept so iong a time he did not desire to keep a secret, and i occurred to nic that the fact might well deser'e a place in ; your useful paper, lhat others miglt avail them selves of the benefit to be derived from the in tormation. Many modes of preserving eggs are i practised, but none has come to my knowledge i 30 simple, and worthy of being generally known as this. His method of procedure is simply to l collect the eggs as soon as laid. aiiMkedg pari-or! I