Newspaper Page Text
#rpial,
* " v
KOH THE inheresdent PRESS.
JAncs in Memory o f Mrs. fl. «. ».
The spring returns with brightening sky,
And flowers exhale their rich pepflime®,
As \vhen ttyr littering lmnd was jiigh
'l'o train their vines, or pluck their blooms.
The boo is huint&ing rovitu} file flower,
Tlie mock-bird sings his merry h»y,
The thrush is hiding in the bower.
And laughing children run and play.
Wv miss thee in the garden walk,
\Ve miss thy foot-stops in the hall.
Thy gentle smile, thy pleasant talk,
Thy merry laugh—we miss them all.
Wo miss thee at the social board.
\V> miss thee nightly ’round pie hejuth,
We miss thee when our hearts are stored
With sorrow, or with gladsome mirth.
The sod is on thy pulseless* breast.
The grass is growing on thy grave—
Thonr't sleeping in thy long, long rest —
We buffet life’s relentless wave.
} lojtely oij the canvass gazed,
And ss\v the copy of thy smile —
Thine eve that now in death is glazed,
And mused m reverie the while.
Thine eye from oil' the canvass bent
Its mellow my into my heart,
And memory to thine image lent
jjp {rue a look, it made me start
1 Jolt as ( itoiigh that same mild eye
Which looked in kindness on me here,
."till gazed upon me from the sky.
And silently 1 dropped a tear.
Well thou art happy —why should we
Indulge a wish to have thee back?—
Tis I>etter that we go to thee—
For Heaven has joys which earth must lack.
April 22d, 1851.
#lio.
[FROM THE KNICKERBOCKER.]
\\'Hrt Turkey JMtmtiug.
The reading public, especially of tlie
West ami South, have become familiar
w ith the writings of Thomas B. Thorpe. j
II is characteristics arc great clearness j
ami simplicity of style, close observation j
of nature and character, and a certain!
<lrv humor.of description, which is espe
cially captivating. sketch of “Tom
< )we.v, the Bee-Hunter" is an excellent
illustration of his felicity in this regard;
and his picture of “Wild Turkey-Shoot
ing" is another 'case in point.’ We can sec
what is the fact, that the writer is an ar
tist, and that in writing, as in painting,
a picture is always before him. Observe |
the following admirable description of
the habits of the wild-turkey. The way j
he looks out for himself is ‘a caution ,
•We once knew an Indian, celebrated j
lor all wood craft, who made a comfort -
able living by supplying a frontier town
with game. Often did he greet the vil
lagers with loads of venison, with hear,
with grouse, but seldom, indeed, did he
offer the esteemed turkey for sale. Up
on being reproached for his seeming in
capacity to kill theturkey, by those who
desired the bird, he defended himself as 1
follows:
•Me meet moose; he stop to eat, me
shoot him. Me meet bear; he climb a
tree —no see Indian; me shoot him.—
Me meet deer: he lookup—say may be
Indian, may be stump —and me shoot
’him. Me see. turkey great way off; he
look up and say, Indian coining, sure;
mono shoot turkey; lie cunning too
jnuehf
* •» x
‘l rather think," said a turkey-hunter,
•if vou want to find a. thing eery cunning,
von need not go to the fox, or such var
mints, but take a gobbler. I once hunt
ed regular after the same one for three j
years, and never saw him twice.
I knew the critter’s ‘yelp’ as well as
1 knew Music’s, mv old deer-dog; and
his track was as plain to me as the trail
of a log hauled through a dusty road.
•| hunted the gobblin' always in the
same ‘range,’ and about the same old
-scratchins,’ and he got so, at last, that
when I ‘called.’ he would run from me,
taking the opposite direction to rny foot
track
‘Now, the old rascal kept a great deal i
on a ridge, at the end of which, where j
it lost itself in the swamp, was a hollow i
cypress tree. Determining to outwit j
him, I put on rny shoes, lied, is- foremost , j
walked leisurely down the ridge, and got;
into the hollow tree, and gave a ‘call/
and boys, said the speaker, cxultingly,
•il would have done you good to see that
turkey coming toward me in a trot, look
ing at my tracks, and thinking 1 had J
gone the other way.'
vC” "/•’ 'X* •;/
•They seem incapable old icing deeeiv- ,
-•d, amt taking everything strange as j
possessed t<> them of danger—whether it j
he a moth out of season, or a veteran |
hunter—they appear to common, or tin- j
common observers, annihilated front the j
country, were it not for their foot-prints
occasionally to be seen in the soft soil be
side the running stream, or in the light
dust in the beaten road,
‘A veteran gobbler, used to all the
tricks of the hunter’s art; one who has
had his wattles cut with shot; against
whose well-defended breast lias struck
the spent ball of the rifle; one who, al
though almost starved, would walk by
Ihe treasures of grain in the ‘trap’ and
•pen;’ a gobbler who will listen to the
plaintivo note of the female until he. has
tried its quavers, its length, its repeti
tions, by every rule nature has given
him; and then perhaps npt answer, ex
cept in a smothered voice, for fear of be
ing deceived ; such a turkey will \V ,
select t<> break it lance with, and, in spite
of the chances against him, win.
‘The turkey hunter armed with his
•call/ starts into the forest; he bears up
on his shoulder the trusty gun. He is
h itjUiyhe that lie unexpectedly hears u
mdse, s^undjpg like distant, thunder ;he
then knows dipt he i* in close proximi
ty of the game, and that he has disturb
ed it to tlight. W|fen such is the ease,
his work is comparatively done.
‘We will, for illustration, select a more
difficult hunt The day wears toward
noon; the patient hunter has met no
‘sign/ when suddenly a slight noise is
heard, not unlike, to unpraetioed pars,
a thousand other wood-land sounds f the
hunter listens; again the sound is heard
as if a pebble dropped into the bosom of
a little lake. It rnav be that woodpeck
er, who, desisting from his labors, has
opened his bill to yawn; or, perchance,
vender little bird so industriously feed
ing among the dead leayes of that young
holly. Again, precisely the same sound
is heard; yonder, high in the heavens, is
a solitary hawk, winging its WU .Y over
the forests; its rude scream etherealized,
might, come down to our ears, in just
such a spund as igade the turkey-hunter
listen; again the same note; now more
distinct. The quick ear of the hunter
is satisfied; stealthily he intrenches him
self behind a fallen tree, a. few green
t wigs are placed before him, from among
which protrudes the muzzle of his deadly
weapon.
•‘Thus prepared, he takes his ‘call/ and
gives one solitary ‘‘cluck,' so exquisitely
that it chimes in with the running brook
and the rustling leaf.
•It may be, that a half a mile off, if
the place be favorable for conveying
sound, is feeding a ‘gobbler / prompted
by his nature, as lie quickly scratches
up the herbage that conceals his food, he
gives utterance to the sounds that first
attracted the hunter’s attention.
‘Poor bird! he is bent on filling his
crop; his feelings are listless, common
place; Ids wings are awry; the plgmage
on his breast seems spiled with rain; his
wattles arc contracted and pale—look!
lie starts! —every feather is instantly in
its place; he raises his delicate game
looking head full four feet from the
ground, and listens; what an eye; what
a stride is suggested by that lifted foot!
gradually the head sinks; again the
bright plumage grows dim, and with a
low cluck, he resumes his search for food.
•The treasures of the American forest
are before him; the choice pecan-nut
is neglected for that immense ‘grub
worm’ that rolls down the decayed
stump, too large to crawl; now that
grasshopper is nabbed; presently a hill
of ants presents itself, and the bird leans
over it, and, with wondering curiosity,
peering .down the. tiny hole of its en
trance, out of which are issuing the in
dustrious insects.
‘Again that cluck greets his ear; up
rises the head with lightning swiftness;
the bird starts forward a pace or two,
looks around in wonder, and answers
back.
‘No sound is heard but the falling
acorn: and it fairly echoes, as it rattles
from limb to limb, and dashes off to the
ground.
‘The bird is uneasy; lie picks pettish
ly, smoothes down his featners, elevates
his head slowly, and then brings it to
the earth; raises his wings as if for flight,
jumps upon the limb of a fallen tree,
looks about, settles down finally into a
brown study, and evidently commences
thinking.
‘Anhour may have elapsed; he has
resolved the matter over; his imagina
tion has become inflamed; he has heard
just enough to icish to hear more , he is sat
isfied that no turkey-hunter uttered the
sounds that reached his ear, for they
were too few and far between ; and then
there rises up in his mind some discon
solate mistress, and he gallantly flies
down from his low perch, gives his body
a swaggering motion, and utters a dis
tinet and prolonged clack, significant of
both surprise and joy.
‘On the instant, the dead twigs near
by crack beneath a heavy tread, and he
starts off under the impression that he
is caught; but the meanderings of some
ruminating cow inform him of his mis
take. Composing himself, lie listens;
ten minutes since ho challenged, when a
low cluck in. the distance reaches his
ears.
‘Now, our gobbler is an old bird, and
has several times, as if by a miracle, es
caped from harm with his life; he has
grown very cunning indeed.
‘He wil l not roost two successive nights
upon the same tree, so that day-light
never exposes him to the hunter, who
lias hidden himself away in the night to
kill him in the morning’s dawn.
‘lie never gobbles without running a
short distance at least, as if alarmed at
the noise he makes himself; he pre
sumes everything is suspicious and dan
gerous, and his experience has height
ened tlie instinct.
‘Twice, when young, was he coaxed
within gun-shot, but got clear by some
fault of the percussion caps; after that,
lie was fooled by art idle school-boy, who
was a kind of ventriloquist, and would
have been slain had not the urchin over
loaded his gun.
‘Three-times did he come near being
killed by heedlessly wandering with his
thoughtless play-fellows.
‘Once he was caught in a ‘pen/ and
got out by an over-looked hole in its
top.
‘Three feathers of bust year’s ‘fan/ de
cayed under the weight of a spring-trap.
‘All this experience has made him a
‘deep’ bird ; and he will sit and plume
himself, when common hunters are toot
ing away, but never so wisely as to de
ceive him twice. They all reveal them
selves by over-stepping the modesty of
nature, and woo kirn too muck; his loves
are far more coy, far less intrusive.
‘Poor bird! he does not know that
W ia spreading his snare for him,
and is even then so sure of his victim as
to be revolving in his mind whether ids
goodly carcass should be a present to a
newlyrinarried friend, or be served up
in savory fumes, front his own bachelor
! but hospitable, board.’
It was tlie fate of that unlucky gob
bler to follow hundreds of Ids predeces
sors ; and as to ‘how if was done/ the
reader will karri bv perusing the “Hive
of the Bee-hunter,” which wo cordially
commend to his perusal.
■
•p~ - -*«-» «*’- ~-
France has now an international
treaty with nearly every book-produe-
■ -'lg£/
Aiiunilintal.
FOR TIIE INDEPENDENT PRESS.
Georgia Karon , 4’c,
Mr, Editor : —lt is a question among
(Georgia Planters whether or pot, bacon
raised in this State, or at least in this
seetiqn, on corn alone, is cheaper than
that bought from the Tennesseeans or
Kentuckians. It certainly appears
somewhat unnatural for a planter to buy
bacon, and the purchase of it is a great
tax; but it is equally certain that bacon,
raised on corn alone, where corn com
piands the price it does in Middle Geor
gia, is very dear bacon. Three different
opinions prevail among us on the sub
ject of hog raising. Some of our plant
ers sav it is cheaper for us to raise our
own bacon, where we have a good
range for hogs, and are not compelled to
feed them entirely on corn; but that
where there is not a good range, and
the hog is fed on corn alone, it is cheap
er to buy bacon than to raise it—es
pecially when corn is worth a dollar a
bushel.
Others of our planters say it is cheap
er for each one to raise Ids own bacon,
whatever be the food he uses, and how
ever great the price it commands.
■ Others still, say that the Georgian
never can, on any plan, let him use what
food lie may, raise his bacon as cheap
as he.can buy it. For the honor of our
State, I will say that the last named
class, constitute a very small minority of
Georgia planters.
I noticed in the first number of the
“Press,” a communication on hog rais
ing, the writer of which is, I think, on
the right track of raising cheap bacon.
The article I allude to is signed “Farm
er.” I propose to give you a plan for
raising bacon, which is the plan of
“Farmer,” to some extent, but which in
cludes a still greater variety of articles
of food for tlie hog, some of which arc
still cheaper than corn-field peas and
ground-peas, and which consequently,
still farther lessen the cost of raising ba
con.
Before giving you ray plan, 1. will
briefly consider the plan of sowing small
grain, especially oat.s arid rye, for hogs.
I am opposed to any very extensive
sowing of oats or rye, because they yield
so little and impoverish land so quickly.
Small grain is cut, or if not cur, usually
falls down, early in the summer, and
leaves the laud exposed to the scorch
ing rays of the sun. during tlie whole of
our fervid summer. This scorching,
in addition to the trampling of the stock,
exerts a very enervating influence on
the soil; besides, the quick growth of
small-grain crops, is said to lie a. great
drain on the fertile qualities of the soil.
I do not insist on the latter opinion, but
am confident that the exposure to the
sun is very injurious.
Then rye, always, unless land is very
rich, and oats frequently, yields so little
to the acre, that it requires a great many
acres indeed, to be of any essential ser
vice in the feeding of hogs ; and I am
of opinion, that a planter had better
plant something on his land which re
quires cultivation, in order to keep the
land mellow, which will shade the land
during the summer, and which will final
ly yield him more than he can expect
from either oats or rye. 1 know the
argument of the advocates of small-grain
is, that small-grain yields as much on
ordinary land, in proportion to the
amount of labor bestowed, as does cot
ton or corn, or anything else, which re
quires a great deal of labor in the cul
tivation. The answer to this argument,
will also be the answer to another idea
of the small-grainists. They say that a
man must fence in his old fields and his
waste lands, sow therm down, and reserve
his best lands for cotton and corn. That
in this way, he can make as much corn
and cotton as he would on any plan, and
then with only one ploughing, make a
large quantity of oats and rye extra.
My answer to both these ideas is, that
a man should own no more cleared
land than he is able and willing to cul
tivate’, and cultivate well. That all the
land lie owns above this, is so much dead
capital. The object should not be to
cultivate the greatest quanity of land
with the smallest amount of labor, un
less some method is discovered of ob
taining a good yield with this lessened
labor. The object should bo, to raise
the greatest amount of produce on the
smallest quantity of land; and as long
as the planter has unimproved lands, he
should expend his extra labor and capi
tal to improve those lands and bring
them to a high state of cultivation, in
stead of laying out Ids money for more
land, to wear out, and lie in waste ; thus
locking up his capital, so that it will
yield him scarcely any return. In line,
m counting the clear yield of any crop,
not only the cost of the labor bestowed
should be counted, but the price and
quantity of kind, which it takes to pro-
S duee a given crop.
i But lam going much further with this
idea than 1 intended. Perhaps in a fu
ture communication 1 will amplify it,
and bring it fully before your readers.
Now to sav something of my fancied
: improvements on the plan of “ banner. ’
Lie provides, by means of corn-field
; peas —one variety of which, the ‘‘speck
led,’’ ripens by the middle of August or
first of September-Aground-peas, or
unci s,\y;oot potu toe;% tor tuo
tombbr till the last of March the guc:
codding year, with scarcely any corn for
stock-hogs and but little for the fatten
ing hogs. Then occurs a long interval,
from last of March to first of September,
during which the hogs must be fed on
com.
1 propose to supply tins deficiency in
the plan of “Farmer,” and this is tlie
plan. Select from your poorest land,
near the house, ten, fifteen, or twenty
five acres, with a branch running through
it. If it is grown up in broom sedge,
cultivate it a year or two to get rid of
this pest, then at the time when you
plant peach seed, sow this land in plum
seed, and plough them in. The next
Spring, your seed will come up and
grow very readily, I care not how poor
the land is. If the seed come up too
thick, it will be an easy matter to thin
them, by ploughing through them once
and following the ploughs to pull up
scions not ploughed entirely up. It is
best though, to let them stand so thick
as not to require or admit of cultivation,
as in this, consists a great deal of the
cheapness of the plan.
In a few years, you will have a quan
tity of plum trees bearing fruit, which
will begin to ripen by the middle of
May and continue dropping off, if you
are careful in selecting plums which ri
pen at different stages of the Summer,
till the first early peaches begin to ripen ;
which will be the very last of June or
first of July. Put your hogs in this plum
orchard as soon as the first plums begin
to drop off’ and they are amply provided
for, until peaches begin to ripen.
These plum trees, unlike the small
grain spoken of, will prove a great fer
tilizer of the soil, by effectually shading
it, and feeding it with an abundance of
vegetable matter. In the course of
years, if you wish to reclaim this land
for cotton, cut it down, and you will find
it has become rich land.
But to go back to the hogs. We have
brought them on to the first of July ;
and then with a good peach orchard,
they arc safe till the last of ScptombcA.
A friend of mmc raised a clie/ap or
chard in the following manner. He
laid off his ground in, checks, the dis
tance lie Wanted. his peach trees, then
planted two peach seed in each check.
They came up very well, with but few
missing places, and these missing places
were supplied by scions from the checks
where two had come up. The orchard
is now in its third year, and growing
beautifully.
We have in our orchard, a kind of
yellow peach, too sour to eat raw, but
excellent for peach custards which arc
almost equal to lemon custards —first
rate for hogs—which hangs on the tree
till nearly frost —long after the first corn
field peas begin to ripen ; and by raising
these peaches, and the speckled peas,
you can, not only make the two ends
meet in the matter of hog feeding, but
you can make them lap a good ways
over.
And now, having brought the hogs
through to pea time, I resign them into
the hands of “Farmer,” who, with his
peas, goobers and potatoes feeds them
during the fall and winter and until the
“first of March,” when ho turns them
out “in fine order.” Surely if we can
feed hogs during nearly ten months of
the year, with scarcely any corn, we
can afford to feed them on corn the
remaining two and a half months, and
find it cheaper to raise bacon in this
way than to buy it. I hope to see
tlie day when every planter in Geor
gia will not only raise his own ba
con, but will raise enough to supply the
demand for it on the part of those in our
State who are not planters, and who, of
a consequence arc compel led to buy their
bacon ; and thus wo can stop at least
one of the streams by which Kentucky
and Tennessee are drawing from us our
capital. GEORGIAN.
Turnwold, May Bth, 1854.
Mcligion in the Staten.
Cincinnati, March 1-1, 1854. — N0t,
the least valuable or interesting part of
the balance of national statistics is the
part relating to Religion. It enables us
to ascertain precisely how the support of
the Church on voluntary principles,
compares with that of the State Churches
in other countries, and to ascertain al
so the relative strength of the religious
principle in this country. In examining
these statistics, there is no need of con
sidering the great number of sects,
separated by little more than a name;
but we should rather look at them in
the light of great divisional principles.
On the great divisional principles, I
think there are, in the general, but five,
viz: Trinitarian and Unitarian, Papal
and anti-Papal, Baptist and anti-Baptist,
Episcopal and anti-Episcopal, Evangeli
cal and anti-Evangelieal. With very
slight exceptions, these divisions em
brace all religious sects, and it will be
instructive to look at them in that point
of view.
l'As TO THE Trinity. —lt is gener
ally understood that a large portion of
the sect called “Christaina ” and a small
part of the Uni versa lists, are Unitarians
in principle. In order to be certain of
not underrating the Unitarians, I shall
set down all the Oh.rista.ins,” one third
of the Uni versa lists, and the Unitarians
proper, as anti-Trinitarian. In estima
ting the proportions, I shall take the
number of churches; for, although that is
by no means a perfectly accurate mode,
yet it is the best we have. The church# 1
accommodation" is no .standard at all.
in ffcfbrepgP to the number who Attend.
The statement of Trinitarian and Unita
rian/ then, stands thus:
Unitarian Churches, - - - 252
Christian Churches, - • - 853
One-third Universalist Churches, - 176
Aggregate of Unitarian Churches,-1,-
271.' "
Comparing this with tho whole num
ber of churches, we have: Whole num
ber, 88,061; Unitarian, 1,271. Pro
portion of Unitarian, 3 per cent. This
is a larger proportion than probably
most persons suppose, but it is quite
small compared with the whole number
of people. The Unitarian churches are
not so well tilled as in most other sects.
Half a million, or one fiftieth part of the
entire population, will probably cover
the whole Unitarian persuasion of all
sorts.
2 Papal and Anti-Papal.—The
number of Roman Catholics in this coun
try can be very nearly ascertained; for,
in addition to the Census, avc have tho
Roman Chatholio Almanac, with an ac
count of their priests, and churches.
By the Census we have the result:
Roman Catholic churches, 1221; whole
number of churches, 88,061 —about 8
per cent. The Roman Catholic church
presents this remarkable contrast to the
Unitarian—that while the former are
very thinly attended, the later is crowd
ed; as Mass is attended at different
hours of the day, the number of people
is much greater in proportion, than in
the Protestant cl lurches. By the Roman
Catholic Almanac for 1851, I find that
tho entire Roman Catholic population
is estimated at about 2,100,000; and
comparing this with other data, 1 be
lieve it very near correct. About 1 in
12 of the American people are Roman
Catholic, and about 1 in 10 of the whole
population.
8. Baptist and Anti-Baptist.—The
question oflmmersion makes one of the
great divisional differences in the
Church. The result on that question,
including the minor sects of Baptists, is
thus: Baptist churches, 9,375; aggre
gate number of churches, 23,061:
churches of Immersion, 25 per cent.
This distinction is a very important one,
for the Baptists have a close communion,
which is not the case with other Protes
tant sects.
4. Episcopal and Anti-Episcopal.
—This is a question of Church govern
ment, but a most important one; for it
is a question whether tho Church shall
have a dominant hierarchy. It is just
the same question as that between a
political Aristocracy and a Democracy.
It is not a question whether a common
minister of the Church is an Episcopos
—a Bishop; but whether a certain class
of ministers, call Bishops, shall hold pow
er —either in whole, or part. The
Churches which hold to Episcopal hier
archy, are the Roman Catholic, the
Episcopalian, and the Episcopal Metho
dist. In each of these the Bishop, perse,
holds a certain amount of positive and
peculiar power. The aggregate and
proportion of these Churches stand
thus:
Roman Catholic Churches - 1,221
Episcopalian Churches - - 1,450
Methodist Churches - - 10,000
Churches holding to Episcopacy 12,680
Proportion of the whole, 38 percent.
The above three bodies are, perhaps,
as antagonistic to each as any that can be
named; but they unite in the adoption
of the Episcopal principle
5. Evangelical and Anti-Evangeli
cal, —This is the most important dis
tinction, for it involves two great prin
ciples \ first, the onward movements of
the Church; and secondly , that move
ment in accordance with the standard
of Protestant Orthodoxy. Evangelism
is the dissemination of the Gospel, but
in the modern language of the Church,
it is the dissemination of a •free Gospel—
without responsibility to a special
Church hierarchy, and adhering only to
the fundumentaf articles of Protestant
faith. Hence it rejects the Papal Church
on one hand and the Unitarian on the
other; audits work is mainly carried
on bv voluntary efforts. The Evan
gelical Churches, so called, are all the
Protestant Orthodox Churches, although
some of them (jealous of voluntary so
cieties) choose to disseminate Biules and
missionaries by their own organiza
tion.
The Evangical Churches stand thus:
Presbyterian Churches - • 4,824
Congregational Churches - - 1,706
Dutch Deformed Churches - - 860
German Reformed Churches - - 888
Three-fourths Lutheran Churches - 918
Three-fourths Baptists Churches - 7,040
Episcopal Churches - - 1,459
Friends Churches - - - 762
Methodist Churches - - - 18,280
Moravian (Lurches - - - 828
Evangelical Churches - 29,944
, Aggregate Churches - 38,041
Evangelical Churches - 79 percent.
I have excluded a small portion of
the Baptists and Lutheran Churches,
the former as opposed to all Missions,
and the latter, as Rationalists. T have
included all the Episcopalians and the
Friends —because, though acting in their
own mode , they are, nevertheless, Protes
tant Evangelists. It will be thus seen,
that four-fifths of the Churches of the
United States belong to the Protestant
faith, w hich is the type of the American
Church. In this respect, they belong to
the Religious Democracy; which has
been evidently modified by the Politi
cal. Its great characteristics are the
love of Religious Liberty and the zeal
ofpropagandism.
In regard to the number of people at
tending Church, we have these data.
One-th ird of the whole number of peo
ple are either small % ohildrert, sick or in
firm. These must be excluded from
the church-goers.
Wo then”have this result: Two-thirds
population, about - 16,000,000
Number of Churches - - 38,061
Number of people to each church - 421
Now it appears there is a church pro
vision for each /our hundred and twenty
persona able to attend.
Now, with this fact before us. I see
no reason to believe that any large num
ber of the American people either can
not or do not attend public worship.
.Oil the contary, I believe there is
imi cli exaggeration on that subject,,!
Our cities are the real waste places m
I'tg.ud to church woe-hip, Neither
jSfiW York or Cincinnati are mqre tjtap
half provided with places of worship,
If we had a thoroughgoing mission work
done in our cities, they would no loUgei
be the great repositories of vice and im
piety. ' Cleanse your streets, and with
them the heart of your people, and
you v,T have neither pestilence nor infi
delity, . v-W
Ijitiitdnrai
FOU THE INDEPENDENT PBESB.
Jl Tobacco Anecdote.
BY QUIZ.
At a certain country church, some
where in or out of the world, its worthy
members, with a commendable zeal, de
termined to improve their house of wor
ship by painting it nicely, fixing up
stoves, putting down carpets and supply
ing it with spit boxes. After this was
accomplished the house was to be dedi
cated anew to the service of God by one
of the most popular preachers in the
country.
Now it so happened that in the neigh
borhood of tli is church there lived a long,
tall, lean, lank, gawkey specimen of the
genus homo who was some in going to
big meetings, and who had looked for
ward to the dedication of the new church
with more than usual interest. Ac
cordingly when the Sabbath for the oc
casion arrived, lie got up early in the
morning, put on his “ Sunday nxins,” and
prepared to “ go to me a tin” by saddling
his colt whoso name and tail were full
of cockle-burrs. His legs looked like
they had been warped into the shape
of a parenthesis by his lying down and
I going to sleep in the sun, and in fact he
looked several other ways conducive to
oddness and comicality. His voice was
a long, keen, nasal whine, making you
think it probable he had strips qf tin
fastened at one end, all the way up and
down his throat, while the Piker ends re
mained loose, and were allovied to vibrate
to the roughness of his voice and add
their vibratory twang to its!uncommon
mellowness.
Now it may be premised of Lemuel—
for between you and me tliis was no
other than Lemuel Jinking—nbat he was
not born with a gold spoon in pis mouth,
nor did his conduct betray that familiar
ity with spittoons which is desirable in
a decent white man. |
As Lemuel wended his way tp church,
he fell in company with Ned Bunkley,
who was quite a wag, fond of a poke and
who had enjoyed many of the Very best
at the expense of Jinkins. These two
soon fell into conversation. \
“I reckin,” said Lemuel, “Mr. Berit
ly will preach a powerful sarmon,to-day.
Wonder wliat it’ll be about. Stone of
his dinged missionary doctrines, tho’, 1
reckin.” V
“That’s a fact,” said Ned, as a Aright
idea, struck him. “Aiiit you goimg to
contribute something?” i
“No, I’ll eat lire if I do,” said item,
j “ You don’t ketch me in no sicli bok as
that. It takes in about all the chicken
money I can raise to buy tobarkcr, with
out givin any of it to them heathens.®
“Well but, man,” added Bunkley,
“you won’t be expected to lay out any
money to-day. Let me explain to you.-U-
This sermon is designed to raise
for the benefit of the mission to the ITaJ
tentots. As you are aware, they are a
very degraded race of “ niggers” about
the Cape of Good Hope—”
“ Edzactly,” interrupted Lem, as tho’
he really did know it—
“ About Abe Cape of Good llope,’ ,
continued Ned, “and are as lousy as a
pig. The object of this mission is to
rid these poor ignorant people of the
vermin which infests their heads. Now,
Lem, do you know what is good to kill
lice ?”
“Well,” answered Lem, “ tobarkcr
juice is about as good a thing for lice on
calves as ever daddy tried.”
“Exactly” said Ned. “Now the de
sign of the board of missions is to send
over as much tobacco juice to the poor
Hottentots as will relieve them of their
living woes. They have put in the
Church to-day at the seat of every man
who uses tobacco a box which they ex
pect him to fill with tobacco juice for
the laudable purpose I have mentioned.
Now, Lem, I think it is our duty to con
tribute something towards missions. I
shall do so myself. Don’t you feel it in
your heart to do something in this line?”
Lem concluded that as it would cost
him nothing, he “wouldn’t mind lendin’
’em a hand.” So when the two reached
lire Church they went in together, and
Frank motioned to Lem to go into a
pew on the right, and he followed him
and took his seat by him.
“Now,” whispered Frank, “ you see
here are two boxes. You fill that one,
and I’ll fill this one.”
Lemuel leaned his head over on the
pew in front of him, and went indus
triously to work at the pious titsk of
contributing, (in his way —or rather in
[ Bunkley’s way,) to the support of mis
sions. He was quite an adept in the art
of manufacturing tobacco j nice.
In the mean time the preacher took
his text and proceeded with his discourse.
•He went on to speak of first one sin and
.then another. At last, speaking of back
biting, he grew very warm and thun
dered at the top of his voice, “It is the
postern of asps under your tongue.”
* Lemuel, thinking it proper to look
up. and sv- who-e immu-i the poison of
-
asps was under, caught the eye of iho
preacher as he continued —
-Spew it out of your mouth ! ’
Tip’s was spoken with particular ein.
phasis, and as the eye of the minister
rested upon Lem just at this time, the
knight of the spit-box, thinking he had
been commandedX o spit in a manner to
which it did not become a freeman to
submit, rose hastily from his seat, and
throwing his head back, with his cheeks
distented, arid streams of saliva flowing
from the corners of his mouth, said, in a
voice I have already described: —
“Mr. Preacher, jist wait inv awn time
for spittin s—will 5 —will ye ?—for I don’t intend
to be hurried on account o’ them duvned
niggers, no how. I’ll spew it out o' my
mouth when I git ready.”
The speaker was pulled down in his
seat by Frank, who sat looking as de
mure as the minister, and more uncon
scious than any one else in the house*
The congregation looked wild, and some
of the more irreligious members snick
ered outright. The most pious faces
wore a smile. The preacher seemed
confused. There sat Frank as innocent
as a lamb and as harmless as a dove—
the only one in the house who “knew
all about it.” But Frank was suspected,
for every body knew him to be a great
wag. And when he marched into the
houpo with Lemuel before sermon com
menced, with a very ministerial air and
tread, some of the more knowing ones
thought there was “ something tx> pay.
But then Frank looked s so grave, and
joined in the singing with so much ap
parent seriousness and earnestness that,
the old sisters—some of them at least —
had actually determined to call him
“brother Bunkley” the next time they
met him. But order was soon restored,
and the minister proceeded with his ser
mon.
The discourse was finished, prayer
ensued and the pastor was pronouncing
the benediction. Just as he was about
to finish it, the tobacco chewer jumped
up, and, in a hurried, earnest voice,
cried out, “Hold on thar Mr. Preacher,
jist a half a minit afore you say amen,
for one more mouthful will fill my box.
and you can take it along with you to
them thar kinky-headed Hoppintots!”
This was too much for the risibles oi'
preacher, class-leader, saint and sinner,
and they each and every one of them
then and there absquatulated, leaving;
the amen entirely unsaid.
'Mineral Miches of Georgia.
In the last number of I)e Bow’s Re
view, is an article, entitled “ Natural
History” in its relation to Georgia, from
the pen of Prof. Darby of Cullodcn.—
The Professor says:
“ We have deposited within the earth
the greatest variety of mineral substan
ces. Iron is found throughout a great
part of the State in exhaustless quanti
ties, and of a kind best suited, by reduc
tion, for the production of the finest
qualities of manufactured iron. Copper is
in unlimited abundance, and ready totm
led for the manufacture of the important
compounds of this useful metal. Gold
is found in abundance, happily tasking
jhe ingenuity and skill of our citizens for
its rapid production in an isolated state,
lead and silver are found ; but no at
tention has been directed to the develop
ment of these metals. Mercury is found
pure, issuing from the clefts of rocks.- -
Diamonds exist within the State, and
this priceless mineral will yet, we have
little doubt 'sfefitfTnraofcg tlie produo
wLffiXoi Georgia. Lime, in HU! 1 )' vai 'b'
ties, forms mountain masses, llfydraulie
limestone, so important a proamfiCj s
found in unlimited quantities. Marl.- x
and greensand, abounding in organic
matter and phosphates are spread over
large portions of the poorer regions of
Georgia; and by bringing them to the sur
fjice, wo would load with luxuriance
these now neglected sections of our
State. Porcelain clay, of the finest
quality, for all the demands of the most
extensive potteries, is found in various
Iterations. Materials, of tho finest glass
ire without limit. Burr-stone, second
only to the French is one of our Eeene
Iter illations.
•‘Salt and coal are not largely found
i l Georgia; but Nature seems to have
liken especial care that the State*should
13 an easy recipient of every blessing,
v hen there would not seem room enough
o.i her own surface. TheTennesee River
is made to sweep down to her nothern
birder. The banks of this river abound
ir coal and by its waters we arc placed
ii direct contact with inexhaustible
quantities of this valuable deposit.-
Silt, in enormous quantities, might be
manufactured on w hat are now the use
leqs marshes of our seaboard.”
irKEAT WORK FOR A NEWSPAPER
AT a quarter past two o’clock, p. in.
on iThursday, January 81st, says the
Boston Atlas , the Queen read the “roy
al speech ” in the British House of Lords
before the two Houses of Parliament.—
ThU over, the House of Commons as
sembled at 4 o’clock, and the Lords at
5, when the debate on adopting the usual
address to the Queen immediately com
menced in each. The Lords adjourned,
at hap past 12 and the House at 11
o’clod: at night—but the London Times
of thd next morning gave a full report of
the entire debate in each, with an ac
count > of the opening of Parliment—
occupying thirty-one and a half solid. Col
umns, .in line type —besides ten columns
of editorial, and, making forty-one col
umns of reading matter in that paper, of
its whole forty-eight columns. Any
one will see at a glance whajt immense
labor a|l this must have cost editors re
porters* and compositors, and within the
space ol ten or twelve hours only; and
the Times, containing this report, it is to
be bornefin piind, was read in every pan
ol the Kingdom at noon, or by the usual
dinner jlijair—at almost the remotest
■parts. I