Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

J. A. TURNER, EDITOR. [ VOLUitE I. |)orini. The Challenges. -At a meeting under a Commission of Bankruptcy, at Andover, England, in July, 1526, between Air. Fleet and Mr. Mann. Solicitors of that place, some disagreement arose, which ended in a chal lenge ; to which tho following poetic answer was returned. The lines arc couched with piquancy and force, and possess such a rich vein of poetic humor, that they deserve , wo think, a reprint in our columns. To Kingston Fleet, Esq. I am honored this day. Sir. with challenges two, The first from friend Lnngdon, the second from you, As the one is Xo fight, and tho other to dine, I accept his “ engagement," and your's must de cline. Now, in giving this preference, I trust you'll admit I have acted with prudence, and done what was fit Since encountering him, and my weapon a knife, There is some little chance of preserving my life, Whilst a bullet from you, Sir, might take it away, And tho maxim you know, while ydu may. If however, you still should suppose I ill-treat you, By sternly rejecting the challenge to meet you, Bear with me a moment, and I will adduco These powerfnl reasons by way of excuse: In the first place, unless I am grossly deceived, I myself am in eoueience the party aggrieved; And therefore, good Sir, if a Challange must be, Pray, wait till that eallenge be tendered by me. Again, Sir, I think it by far the more sinful, To stand and be shot, than to sit for 3 skinful; From whence you’ll conclude (as I’d have you in deed,) That fighting composes no part of my creed; And my courage (which though it was never dispu ted, Is not I imagine, too deeply rooted.) Would prefer that its fruit, Sir, whate’er it may yield, Should appear at “the Table,'' and notin 11 the Field." Aud lastly, my life, be it never forgot, Possesses a value which yours, Sir, does not; So I mean to preserve it as long I can, Being justly entitled “a Family Mann*;'' With three or four children, (I scarce know how many,) Whilst you., Sir have not, or ought not to have any. Besides, that the contest would be too unequal, 3 doubt not will plainly appear by tho sequel, For e’en you must acknowledge it would not be • - meet, That one small 41 Mann of War ” should engage “ a whole Fleet." ♦Mr. Fleet wa3 a bachelor, or, at all events a single man. Ifprtmg #lto. Coons and Coon-Hunting. BY JOE MAXTOR. “And now October's brown liath clothed the wood, And merrily the huntsman windsliis horn. *'** * * * When niprhi her sable garment has put on, ’Forth goes he with his deep-mouthed hounds To chase the cunning coon, in the deep swamp. ’Through water, wold aDd field he wends his way, A tortuous track, which keen-nosed dogs pursue, •Until a refuge in some tree is found, Which falls beneath the axeman’s sturdy arm. And gives the game unto the clamorous pack.” The first time I remember ever to have heard of a coon, was when I was no larger than a coon. My father had rather a famous coon-hunter in the person of an old negro slave, named Dick. This same Ethiopian Nimrod one night caught, in one of the apple trees of my father’s orchard, one of .the animals of which I am writing, and I was told it was about my. size. As long as I remained a child, I used to tel) every one that “Uncle Dick” caught a coon as large as I—forgetting that I -was every day growing larger. “Uncle Dick” made a grand stew of the coop which he caught, and hearti ly was it eaten by himself, and his fa •\vorites on the plantation. Ido not i remember whether I tasted of his coon . ship on this occasion; but I have tast ,-ed of the raccoon’s flesh, and found it -tolerably edible. It is not so good as that of the opossum. Still, negroes are fond of it, and esteem it a great delica- The first coon which I over saw caught was on Murder Creek in Jas per county. I was quite a boy then, and was staying with a friend in said county. One morning this friend’s overseer concluded he would gratify me by taking me down to the creek with him, and allowing me to witness the catching of a coon, These animals are so plentiful * there, "tliat some time before we reached the bank of the stream, the dogs had treed One. It was just light, and it was not long before the tree was felled to the ground by the strong arm of the overseer. No coon . was visible,'hbweVeri tKi'dogs ran through the boughs 91“. the ./alien as imicl> noise as if Pan- .ppifchln fmtnml:—gtlintSf to literature, |j .olitics, mrir dtteal Miftcllaim. demonium had broken loose. I was much disappointed in thus having love’s labor lost—but soon my sorrow was turned into joy. For one of the dogs found a hole in the body of the tree, and bayed at it in such a way as to render it certain that the game was in the hollow. Soon the overseer cut a hole, where he judged the raccoon to be, and, sure enough, out leaped the fellow into, the mouths of a dozen clamorous hounds. It was a young coon, so there vas no fight between him and the dogs. With a ‘severe scream or two, he yielded up the ghost. There was but little amusement in catching this coon, for the dogs treed him immediately, like they would a squirrel, without trailing him' at all. The beauty of raccoon hunting is the trail ing, and the fight after the cunning animal is caught. lie is always found near water courses, and is a straggler when found out upon ridges. The Reason that coons seek water country for places of resort is that they may feast upon fish, frogs, muscles, ducks, and such other inhabitants of the waves as they can bring within their clutches. They are also fond of fruit, and when they cannot find such as they wish upon the low-lands, they stray off to the high-lands. They are fond of grapes, muscadines, acorns, persim mons, and, if we may judge from the position in which ‘‘Uncle Dick” caught one, of apples. In eating the musca dine, they no more swallow the hull than you or I would, but reject this after devouring the pulp, with as much care as if their grand-mothers, like ours, had taught them it would make them sick if the} 7 swallowed the coat which contains the pulp. I have treed as many coons up oak trees, where they had gone to fnd acorns, as in any other kind of trees. They do not confine themselves to the acorns of the swamp oak, but travel oft* on the ridges where they may find red oak and white oak acorns. They fitlK persimmons, also, mostly on the ridges. Where there are not too many dogs, they will sometimes find their way into the poultry yard, and then wo to the hens and chickens. They are not such frequent depredators, however, upon the realm of roosterdom as their more clumsy aad less pru dent neighbor, the opossum, and the mink, equally sagacious as themselves. If you wish to hunt the raccoon for the sake of destroying them, Spring or Summer is the time for it. And it is necessary, frequently, in new countries, to hunt them simply for the sake of de stroying them, on account of the dep redations which they commit upon corn, planted on low-grounds. They are frequently as destructive in a field of maize as a drove of hogs—bending down the stalk, and eating off a little corn, but leaving soon for another, just as if their only object was to destroy* Nor is it in new countries alone that they so much abound as to become a nuisance. Wherever the low grounds on a stream of any size, remain un cleared, they are found in great abun dance. If the farmer then clears up a. field upon this stream, and plants it in corn, wo to his roasting ears in the month of Juty. The raccoons finding them a delicate morsel, prey upon them both night and day. For although, as a general rule, the c6on is a nocturnal wanderer, still lie com mences to perambulate during the day, in the Spring time, when it is the sea son of love, in search of the females — and then, as the summer advances his affections are turned upon something to eat, and he continues his perigrina tions in search of mulberries, black berries, roasting ears, &c. In the winter season the raccoon never goes out. in the day time. But when summer clothes the low-land for est in its thickcoat of green, and the dense foliage shuts out the rays of the sun, then lie wanders about in the day time as well as the night. You may then pursue him in the thick cane brake with dogs, catching him 011 the ground, or, treeing him, you may send the leaden messenger to his brain, and bid him tumble down from the big fork of some huge oak where the dogs forced him as a retreat from their fangs, or y.diere lie had gone to rest, before they struck his trail. But as I was saying, if you hunt the coon for die Sake of destroying him, Spring or Summer in‘your time. You are then to start out about day-bre«V, —— “U'fTtrouT rr..tn, FJtvon on ArrxcTio.v” EATQNTON, GA., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1854. and when your dogs strike a trail, you are sure of finding the animal you pur sue, in his den. Cut down the tree where the dogs arc baying, and yon will find from one to a half dozen in the hollow of the tree which you, fell. Is is light by the time your game is caught, and you find before you a tame, spiritless, lean and lank animal with tfie fur nil off, which yields up the ghost as soon as your hounds lay hold upon him, without making one gallant effort to save his life. Frequently, however, as I have al ready said, the coon is a wanderer dur ing the day, in the summer season. I have often come across them in thick swamps, in the day time while I was hunting the mink, in July and August. It is very rarely the case that they will then take a tree to avoid their pursur ers. They generally run round and round in the thick cane, and grass, dodging the dogs until overhauled by these animals—and then they make but little resistance. But when autumn comes, and the fur of the coon has grown out, and be come brown with the foliage of the for est, then it is you may enjoy a hunt after him in all its glory. October is full early to commence —yet perhaps not too early. Night comes, and your sturdy arm ed negro fellows Dick and Harry, arm ed each with one of Collin’s keenest, are ready to follow you, torch in hand. Your horn sounds a merry blast after your supper is over, and your clamor ous hyunds raise an eager cry around your feet, wending their way to the banks of the neighboring stream. And it must not be a large stream ; for if it is, you will lose your game by his swimming across to the other bank, and leaving you on this side to cogitate upon his superior skill in baffling the waves. It is a cloudless night, and the sky is as blue as ever smiled upon the re joicing earth beneath. Scarce a sound is heard, but the note of some insect that yet lingers upon the heel of sum mer. Occasionally you hoar the low hoot of the great horned owl, and now it has broken into the most unearthly shriek this side the region of the damn ed. Involuntarily, and in spite of yourself, every hair upon your head like leaps up straight, and stands bristling a sentinel upon his watch-tower to save you from impending harm. But there is no danger. The dark form from which emenated the unearthly shriek flits before you, and loses itself in the swamp, just ahead. But hark ! What noise is that ? It js the shrill, clear mouth of Old Ring wood. “Hie on fellows !” And the loud holloa drives the other dogs like a living torrent to their ring-leader of a dozen years standing. Look out now, thou brindled denizen of nature’s -woody sane. Be ivare how, and where, thou placest the sole of thy foot for the hero of many a long chase and hard fought battle is upon thy trail. Well wilt thou need all the tricks, and all the ehi-coon-ry of which thou art master, to evade thy bitter foe. The mark uff the claw of many a one of thy race is up on the ears and the nose of old Ring wood, and well helovestobite revenge out of the bosom of every luckless wight of a coon, so unfortunate as to set foot upon earth, where he can find a place for his nose! “God bless him, he’s a big one” says Harry, as he stoops dow r n and exam ines a sand bank when we come upon the stream. “But his track cornin’ dis way. Better call ole Ring wood back, hadn’t we Mas Joe ?” “No, nigger,” interposes Dick “you let Ringwood lone. He know what lie ’bout. He come back heself arter he find he on do wrong end o’ de trail.” “But I don’t hear Ringwood at all Dick, do you ? The young dogs are all opening like mad, but Ringwood is as silent as the grave.” “Ah, here he come now, mas Joe. Golly, look at de bristles on he back. He bound to get dat coon, certain.— Wake up ole fellow —and a loud hee-hee bursts from Dick’s lips as the old dog strikes the right end of the trail, and dashes on through the mud and water at the top of his speed. Soon the other dogs, up stream, mis sing the yell of their leader, hold up for a moment, to see where he is. Now they hear, his faithful mouth down stream, and here they come, yelling and dashing forward like a-jmad torna do in the direction in Which they hear the mouth of old Ringwood. “Whoop ! whoop ! whopee-e-e !” bursts from the lips’of Ethiopian, and Anglo-Saxon, and to loud halloas, on, on rush the hounds yelling, yelp ing, barking, and mouthing until the very welkin rings and rings again with the loud hub-bub. And on rush we as fast as- we can, through woods, briars, black-jack thickets, swamps, water and everything else that impedes our progress, taking every nigh cut and cve*ry advantage we can, to keep in hearing of the dogs. Reader, lixe you this rushing through briars, mud and vjater in the dark ? What -think you of the glories ] of coon hunting ? Yet a little longer follow me, (upon paper,);and be “in at the death.” 1 ■ “Dick what de devil, you travel so fast wid dat light dar hr ? Hold on nigger, and let me git imy shoe out dis mud-hole, here.” “Yah, yah, Harry, low de name o’ God you ever git you j foot out your shoe ? Your heel so long I thought your shoe stay on till cfcy pull ’toft* to bury you.” At this Dick starts back to relieve Harry, and setting his foot upon a spot too slippery to retain his hold, up he slips, and tomes down flat of his back, his axe flying one way, and his torch the otberj “Yah, yah, yah-e-e,-’ fairly roared Harry. “Laugh at mfc will you, you black rascal you ! I lay you laugh t’other side o’your mouf, now. Yah, yah, yah-ee ! Whoop !” “Come, boys, get out of that!”—And Harry and Dick get every thing straight again, and we start forward. “Confound that grape-vine ! Here Dick cut down this ding-fetched vine, and let me have my ean—which said cap was oscillating back and'forth like' a pendulum, out of my reach, having been caught by a vine lowered to- a considerable degree bt my running head-long against it, aid which flew up again, carrying myi head-covering with it, after I had become disengaged from its embrace. Cap on, shoes right, all ready, and off we start again. “Can you hear the dogs, boys ?” “No sir-ee,” is the simultaneous an swer of both Dick and Harry. We proceed a little farther in the di rection in which we last heard the dogs. Harry, who is a little in ad vance, stops suddenly, and pricking up his ears says, “Hear ’em, mas Joe! Dey gwine right’back. De coon doublin’.” And sure enough the coon is doub ling. Right back to the spot where Ringwood first struck his trail is.he wending his way, with all possible speed. And right back upon the path which we came, do we hasten our foot steps, forgetful of all our troubles in the assurance that his coonship will soon take a tree. “Treed by Gosh,” shbutsDick as we come within a half mile of the spot where we first stooped down to exam ine the coon’s trail. “Wait awhile, Dick, don’t “holloa before you.get out of the woods.” I don’t hear the main tree-dog’s mouth 3 r et. Those puppies dont know what they are about.” * And now the whole pack bursts away again, thundering as if the coon was within twelve inches of their noses. “Told you so, Dick. He fooled the young dogs there. Up that tree he went, but off he jumped again. That was one of his tricks. But Buck has witnessed too many such, and his nose is too keen to be baffled in that way.” “Golly ! how Buck do talk to him ! Speak to him, ole fellow, Speak to him now,” bawled Harry at the top of his voice. Sure enough old Buck’s short, hoarse bay tells plainly' enough that the coon is certainly treed. On we rush through the woods, and, after long and rapid strides for one half a mile, Ave reach the tree. '■ “Bless God, its a big one,” ejaculates Dick. “Lazy nigger,” retorts Harry. “La zy nigger, don’t think ’bout dc tree now. Think ’bout de coon.” And Dick is not to blame for feeling a little desperate at the looks of the tree. Before the tivq darkies stands one of tffo largest, tallest poplars the eye ever rested upon. Between four and five feet will reach across the stump when the trunk is felled. It stnlncls upon the bank of the creek, and from the bend of the body it will fall splash into the water when it is cut down. One dozen hounds are baying and panting around its roots, with their tongues lolled out, and the saliva pouring in sluices'off of their ends.— ' Three good miles have they run, as hard as dogs can let down. Some are tired out, and are lying down, restless ly rolling from side to side, first yelp ing, then whining, then barking. “Make up your lights all around the tree, boys, and while they are burning, you can blow awhile, and then at it with your axes. I don’t think the tree is sound. It seems to me to be hol low.” “Wake up here Dick! Look ahea, dis nigger sleep, bless God!” And Harry slapped him upon the shoulder, with his broad hand, such a blow as made the woods echo. “Look ahea, nigger, stop dat. I broke your jaw now, quicker, es you do dat again.” “Well, Dick, you is de laziest nigger dat ever I see yet. Aint bin stop two minits, and here you is dead enough to bury you. Chicken needn’t crow for you. Jt take thunder to wake you up.” ' : “Come boys let’s have the light.”— And soon a bright circle of lights is blazing around the foot of the tree at the distance of its length from the roots. The axes are plied with a hearty good will, and the woods and the hills ring with the clear, merry sound of the keen-edged steel. Every stroke of the axe, and every chip that flies, puts fresh life in the dogs, and they are now rampant with delight. Every now and then the stalwart neQTOf>s v .wipe off the sweat from their brow, which seems almost superfluous, as it is running off as fast as it can. “Gosh ! mas Joe guess right. Dis tree is hollow,” says Dick as his axe is sunk up to the eye in the old pop lar. “How you come on round dar, on your side, Harry ? Call dis chile lazy will you ? Ding me es I couldn’t cut more’n dat, when I was ten years old.” And cut more than Harry, but not as much more as might at first appear, for the shell of the tree is a good deal thicker on Harry’s side than on the other. However, as Harry has been laughing at Dick about being la zy, Dick now “has the grin” upon him,, and is crowing considerably. “Here Dick, do you hold Drive and Katler, and I will hold Yenus and Killbuck, to keep the tree from fall ing on them. They are too young to trust alone yet. Look out where you stand, and don’t get out where the tree will fall upon you. There now, that will do. Drive ahead, Harry, with your axe. Blows from Harry’s axe fall thick and heavy upon the tree. .The dogs become more and more restless, and when the tree cracks a time dr two, their impatience knows no bounds. A half-stifled.growl, mingled with a yell breaks from one of the dogs which Dick is holding. “Be done, you infernal black ras cal you. Bite me will you ?” And Dick slapped Katler such a blow on the side,as made him sound like a barrel that had been struck. Yell after yell escaped from the mordacious canine, as he stuck his tail between his legs, and fled through the woods, as if old Nick was after him. “Ah, Dick, couldn’t you hold that dog? There isn’t one on the face of the earth I couldn’t hold, and keep him from biting me, if you would give me a good hold on the back of his neck. You Killbuck, be still you scoundrel you!”—and Killbuck almost demon strates that I am mistaken in what I have just said. /‘Humph.! Katler gone borne to get some sperits o’ turpentine to take, sence he bite Dick. Dick’s dead pisen to any decent dog. I lay Katler don’t bite him no more' ,, sence he got one taste of him. Yah, yah, yah-g-e,” “Down, with the tree, Harry, and you, Dick, as soon as you let go Drive, when the trey tohehes the ground, ,Bgif2e old Ilingwood ; and, Harry, do you hold Buck, or wo' shall have no fight oiler all our trouble,” With one tremendous crash the phi Ipoplar Jail? with its boughs ip the ■■■- water, five or six feet deep. As soon as it touches the earth, I let go the dogs I am holding, Dick discharges his one remaining animal, and seizes Ring wood, while Harry grabs Buck just as he jumps into the water, and hauls him ashore again. A|little ways be low I cross on a log, and get on the other side of the creek. Gods ! what a rumpus there is in the water. There is the old coon right in the middle of the stream, and ten dogs baying and barking around him, as if they would not leave two parti cles of his flesh together. Ratler, in stead of going home “to get spirits of turpentine,” as prophecied by Harry, has returned, and is doing battle man fully. The old coon behaves himself gallantly. See how his undaunted eye flashes from one of his enemies to As each successive dog ap proaches him, he boxes right aud left, and moves from one point of attack to, another with the rapidity of thought. His claws seem to be omnipresent, and a dog can’t even touch the point of his tail without receiving a good slap. All this time the very heavens seem rent* in twain by the clamors of the dogs and our loud, long, repeated hol loas. See that puppy now ! How reck less he is ! How little he knows what will be the consequence of his temeri ty ! Right tip to the coon he rushes, and opens his mouth to seize him.— Quick as lightning the coon darts upon his enemy, seizes him by the nose with his teeth, and plants one fore-paw in each eye. Down they both go into the water, the waves close over them, 7 ' ' * 7 and hardly a ripple disturbs the sur face of the stream at the spot where they went down. The other dogs swim about in amazement at the loss of Al? Pi TV if) Z> ctn tJ V« lifu L'M’t while others still look for him in the water. By and by, twenty feet down stream, the dog and the coon make their appearance on the surface of the water, not more than a few feet apart. The puppy makes for one bank, puf fing, blowing, sneezing and. buffeting the waves as if nearly drowned. The coon makes for the bank on which I am, under cover of some tussocks of bullrushes in the shade cast by my torch. “Here he goes boys ! here! here! whoo-e-e ! whoop !”—And again the dogs dash in the water pell-mell, hel ter-skelter, yelling, barking, howling and snapping as if the very devil were in the foray. Again and again do the dogs rush to the attack, and again and again are they soused in the water and repulsed. One dog alone contents himself with staying upon the bank a spectator, half-howling and half-bark ing. “Bet he don’t trouble dat coon no more. He got baptizin’ miff to make his salvation one time,” said Dick. For thirty minutes • have the dogs been fighting the coon in the water, and now they grow less and less clamorous. And now they are back ing out one by one, and hardly a dog puts tooth to the brave foe. And now he leaps from the water to the bank, and is in the act of running off’, while not a hound dare lay hold upon him. “By thCxAt, boys, let loose Ring wood and Buck, or all our sport is up.” Like shafts from the bow of the light ning, the two dogs which have been held in reserve, pounce upon their brindled foe. Am\ now Greek having met Greek, comes the tug of war. The coon rears upon his hind legs as erect as a boy and boxes right and left.—. Well do the two old dogs sustain each other in their assaults, and well, for a minute are these assaults parried.— But with a half growl, half yell, King wood succeeds in getting his enemy by the throat, and pinning him to the earth. Buck, with his ponderous jaws, seizes upon his breast, while the other dogs emboldened by the’ example, of the two old heroes, rush in and seize him 'by the legs, sides, belly and wherever else they can get a'hold.— One loud, long shriek of despair from the coon announces that it is all over with him. One loud, long simultane ous whoop from our trio bespeaks tile result, With a shrill blast of the horn, we w;end our way homewards— I to dream of the' pleasures of coon hunting, and Harry and Dick to dream of the 'nibo, pot of flesh, dumplings aud broth which they and their {TERMS, $2,00 A YEAR NUMBER 28. fellow servants will regale themselves after their game has lain long enough in salt to approximate being tender. June 16, 1851. g^rimltra!. [No. I.] Gov. Broome, — Dear sir : The ex periments alluded to in your commu nication in the July number of the Cot ton Planter, as conducted by myself and which have led to an improved system pf plantation economy—as .1 have it in practical and successful operar tion upon my farm—unay be said to have orignated, in theory, as early as 1889. Where I was raised, as you know very well, (in Edgefield District, S. C.) I was accustomed to see Cotton ' grow on very little weeds, on very nar row rov. s, and crowded thick in tho drill. This system of Cotton planting and character of Cotton weed, which.is to this day generally prevalent in Car olina and Georgia, needs no comment here. In the year 1838, I emigrated from South Carolina to > Alabama, with no other object in view but the practice of Physic. In the summer of 1839,1 vis ited the plantation of a friend, on U- ~ chee Creek, in East-Alabama, where I saw Cotton growing on what is known in your State and Alabama, as sandy hammock. The rows were five feet wide, the stalks stood from 18 to 30 in ches apart, average about 6 feet in height. This Cotton differed so mater-. * ially from the Cotton which I have beenjl accustomed to see in Carolina and era Georgia, that I became interested in determining the true cause. At that time, this land only differed from the land on the adjacent of piney wood, in the superior fertility of its soil. To the eye it has cxacLy the appear ance, —when it had boon in cultivation a few years,—r-of sandy, piney woods land. I lived at the time near this plantation, on sandjlpiney woods land, Aaftil, ;T- Kljjfr iin opinion, that if I wild make the soil of my piney woodsland as rich as this hammock, it-wouM produce just such Cotton. Withoi* any fixed or definite idea of the moppey which I might ac complish this I set about pre paring the mfaufre for an experiment —even thejsed|or the experiment, I had proc^^R^JL'iivum- Lanct's, how ever, of n| interest to this subject, pre vented thj£>expcmpent till 1841. The idea was so ridiculed and hooted at, in its very; incipieticv, that I did not myself have the strongest faith in its succefc I knew very little about Cotton planting at the time, and every planter, with whom I conversed on the subject, gsye it as an opinion positive, that u manure would up!”— I examinedg|everal agricultural papers on the subjft||whero I found but lit tle said aboutißotton at all, and not a word about majoring laqd for Cotton. I commenced in Ala bama in 1841, anal|MHfi:nined to com mence experimentsJßpcli I did in a very small way, idpfn the result was a perfect triumip. This t however, wason too small m scale and I said but little about it, emtermining the next 3'car to institute ® experiment on a scale sufficiently «ge to determine the matter. For thopfxperiment, I select ed three acres opine land, as poor in its natural state, a*nny land I have ever seen in five to six year® -1 prepared fifteen hundred bushelKof compost manure— stable and horselife, manure. This I put up in a squarJßpk early after the first of Januar 1 might know tho exact quantyjjraiiK have it in a con* vient forn»r hauling on land. The ndp difficulty I had to encoun ter was 4pe mode of applying the ma nure land. I made innumerable caloiilajßhs and fixed upon- various plans won paper, few of which pro misedjpy convenience on the field. I. .. deteJPfined however, governed by the exnjrment of the year previous, to lay m wows 5 feet wide audio navei the stairs stand in the rows 33 inches,apart. I wund this to give me 2940 stalks pwaere of 70 yards square, which ia a wry convenient planter’s aero, I as eemined by trial, thafji half gallon of mjnurc could be very conveniently twen on a small shovel /oy a negro, f»m a cart load of manure, and de picted in the hill, buy I found upon cumulation that this would consume bufqfcbout 200 bushels Wr acre, of my which I felt (very confident would iliiLgrow Cottony on my poor pine to the Cotton I had seen three qn the rich li chee about 300 .bushels out and spread broad castalMfeland, and plowed it in in the up. After the laud was befeefnp, which was done deep and wellfwith %n ex« eel lent plow, 1 had anomer diffiiulty to encounter, which w m to dejmsit the manure intended for %e hill,. suK fieicntly deep in-the bed jjtoid at the 1 exact distances intended iomaach hill. It was an experiment ami connected with it was and without precedent. IjrOpencd eac!k i-idge qy- ted. with ag shovel plow