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fa i . * ISSUED SKMI-WKEKL^ l. m. grist s sons, Publishers. } ^ t^amilj Be rapa per: (J[or (hi {promotion of the political, JSoeiat. ^grionltapl and fiommerrial Jnterests af the {people. {TMMraoii?corT,8rivi^K*?i'K!i' I ESTABLISHED 1855. " _. ~ YORKVILL^, 9. C., TUESDAY, JANUARY 1, 190t. ^ ____ ISTO. 1. A Romance of the 1 m _____ By W. li I CHAPTER XI. "Now, this were sorry wisdom, to A persuade F My sword to mine own throat. If I must out. Why should I out upon mine ancient friend And spare mine enemy?" \ "The Oaks," the dwelling: place of Colonel Walton, was one of those antique residences of the Carolina planters to which, at this day. there attaches a sort of historical interest. A thousand local traditions hang around them?a thousand stories of the olden time, and of its associations of peril and adventure. The estate formed one of the frontier-plantations upon the Ashley, and was the site of a colonial barony. It had stood sieges of the Indians In the wars of the Edlstoes and Yemassees; and from a block house station at first, it had grown to be an elegant mansion, improved in European style, remarkable for the length and deep shade of Its avenues of solar' emn oak, Its general grace of arrangemont. and the lofty and considerate hospitality of its proprietors. Such, ftp from its first foundation to the period of which we speak, had been its reputation: and in no respect did the present owner depart from the good tastes and the frank, manly character of his ancestors. Colonel Richard Walton was a gen . tleman in every sense of the word; simple of manner, unpretending, un. obtrusive, and always considerate, he I was esteemed and beloved by all k f around him. Born to the possession of large estates, his mind had been exa erclsed happily by education and travel: and at the beginning of the revo lutlonary struggle, he had been early r found to advocate the claims of his native colony. At the commencement of the war he commanded a party of horse, and had been concerned In some of the operations against Prevost. in the rapid foray which that general made Into Carolina. When Charleston fell before the arms of Sir Henry ClinW ton, overawed as was the entire counktry below the Santee by the Immediate presence In force of the British army, he had tendered his submission along with the rest of the inhabitants, despairing of any better fortune. The specious offers of amnesty made by Clinton and Arbuthnot, in the character of commissioners for restoring peace to the revolted colonies, and which called for nothing but neutrality from the inhabitants, had the effect of deceiving him. In common with his neighbors. Nor was this submission so partial as we have been taught to think It. To the southward of " Charleston, the militia, without sum mons, sent In a flag to the British garrison at Beaufort, and made their submission. At Camden, the Inhabl-J1/ ^ tants negotiated their own terms of * \ repose. In Ninety-Six the submission jL- m was the same; and. Indeed, with the l^i^^^xceptlon of the mountainous borders, ^^^^hlch were unlnvaded, and heard only ^^^^^faint echoes of the conflict from afar, ~~ ill show of hostility ceased throughW out the colony?the people, generally. seeming to prefer quiet on any terms to a resistance which, at that moment l of despondency, seemed worse than ^ Idle. Hi This considerate pliability secured Walton, as it was thought, in all the immunities of the citizen, without subjecting him to any of those military duties which, in other respects, his F majesty had a perfect right to call P for from his loyal subjects. Such, * certainly, were the pledges of the British commanders?pledges made with little reflection, or with designed subterfuge, and violated with as little hesitation. They produced the effect desired, in persuading to easy terms of arrangement the people who| might not have been conquered but with great difficulty. Once disarmed L and divided, they were more easily overcome, and it was not long, after the first object had been obtained, before measures were adopted well cal- j r culated to effect the other. Colonel Walton, though striving hard to convince himself of the propriety of the course which he had taken, re mained still unsatisfied. He could not be assured of the propriety of submission when he beheld, as he did hourly, the rank oppression and injustice by which the conquerors strove to preserve their ascendency over the doubtful. while exercising it wantonly among the weak. He could not but W see how uncertain was the tenure of his own hold upon the Invaders, whom nothing seemed to bind in the shape ^^^>f solemn obligation. The promised ^protection was that of the wolf, and H ^^iot the guardian dog: it destroyed Its charge, and not its enemy: and strove to ravage where it promised to secure. As yet, it is true, none of these ills, in a direct form, had fallen upon k Colonel Walton: he had suffered no abuses in his own person or family; on the contrary, such were his wealth and influence, that it had been thought ? not unwise, on the part of the conL... . ouerors. to conciliate and soothe him. Still, the colonel could not be insensible to the gradual approaches of tyranny. He was not an unreflecting man: and as he saw the wrongs done I to others, his eyes became duly open f to the doubtful vaiue of his own se ' ? V..,..,...,.., ? Ko 11f curill", " I1CIIC> XT I lIIC OUVVV^vo '?. the British throughout the state should have become so general as to make them Independent of any individual influence. So thinking, his mind gave a new stimulus to his conscience. \ which now refused its sanction to the decision which, in a moment of emergency ami dismay, he had been persuaded to adopt. His sympathies were HL too greatly with the oppressed, and their sufferings were too immediately under his own eyes, to permit of this: ^ and sad with the consciousness of his error?and the more so as he esteemed * it now irremediable?vexed with his momentary weakness, and apprehensive of the future?his mind grew sullen with circumstances?his spirits sank: and. gradually withdrawing from all the society around him, he American Revolution ORE 8IMMH I ' . solaced himself In his family mansion with the small clcrle which widowerhood. and other privations of time, had spared him. Nor did his grief pass without some alleviation in the company of his daughter Katharine?she. the high-born, the beautiful, the young ?the admiration of her neighborhood, reveling in power, yet seemingly all unconscious of its sway. The rest of his family In this retirement consisted of a maiden sister, and a niece, Emily Singleton, whom, but a short time before. he had brought from Santee. in the hope that a change of air might be of benefit to that life which she held by a tenure the most fleeting and capricious. He saw but few persons besides. Studiously estranging himself, he had no visitors, unless we may except the occasional calls of the commanding officer of the British post at Dorchester. This visitor, to Colonel Walton, appeared only as one doing an apnolnta/1 /Intv art/1 PYAroltilnL" HllHnC these visits, that kind of suvelllance over the people of the country which seemed to be called for by his position. Major Proctor had another object In his visits to "The Oaks." He sought to ingratiate himself in the favor of the father, on account of his lovely daughter; and to the charms of one, rather thap the political feelings of the other, were the eyes of the British officer properly addressed. Katharine was not ignorant of her conquest, for Proctor made no efforts to conceal the impression which she had made upon his heart. The maiden, however, gave him but small encouragement. She gloried in the name of a rebel lady, and formed one of that beautiful array, so richly shining in the story of Carolina, who, defying danger, and heedless of 'privation, spoke boldly in encouragement to those who yet continued to struggle for ItS liberties. She did not conceal her sentiments, . and whatever may have been the personal attractions of Major Proctor, they were wanting in force to her mind, as she associated him with her own and the enemies of her country. Her reception of her suitor was coldly courteous; and that which her father gave him, though always studiously considerate and g^tle. Proctor, at the"*" same time could not avoid perceiving was constrained and frigid?quite unlike the warm and familiar hospitality which otherwise marked and still marks, even to this day. the gentry of that neignDornooa. It was drawing to a close?that day of events in the history of our little squad of partisans whose dwelling was the Cypress Swamp. Humphries, who had engaged to meet Major Singleton with some necessary Intelligence from Dorchester, was already up?n his way to the place of meeting, and had Just passed out of sight of Ashley river, when he heard the tramp of horses moving over the bridge, and on the same track with himself. He sank Into cover as they passed, and beheld Major Proctor and a Captain Dickson, both on station at the garrison, on their way to "The Oaks." Humphries allowed them to pass; then renewing his ride, soon effected the meeting with Major Singleton. As we have already seen, their object was "The Oaks" also; but the necessity of avoiding a meeting with the British officers was obvious, and they kept close in the wood, leaving the ground entirely to their opponents. Though, as we have said, .rather a frequent visitor at "The Oaks," the present ride of Major Proctor in that quarter had its usual stimulus dashed somewhat by the sense of the business which occasioned it. Its discharge was a matter of no little annoyance to the Englishman, who was not less sensitive and generous than brave. It was for the purpose of imparting to Colonel Walton, in person, the contents of that not yet notorious proclamation of "l- II ?.V,O.U Via Oil ncilljr ? III! niiivn uv uv manded the performance of military duty from the persons who had been paroled, and by means of which, on departing from the province, he planted the seeds of that revolting patriotism which finally overthrew the authority he fondly imagined himself to have successfully re-established. Colonel Walton received his guests with his accustomed urbanity; was alone when he received them: and the eyes of Proctor looked round the apurtrnent inquiringly, but in vain, as if he desired another presence. His host understood the glance perfectly, for he had not been blind to the frequent evidences of attachment which his visitor had shown towards his daughter: but he took no heed of it: and. with a lofty reserve of manner, which greatly added to the awkwardness of the commission which the Englishman came to execute, he simply confined himself to the occasional remark?such only as was perfectly unavoidable with whom politeness was habitual, and the predominant feeling at variance with It. the result of a calm and carefully regulated principle. It was only with a steady resolution, at last, that Proctor was enabled to bring his conversation Into any thing like consistency and order. He commenced, despairing of any better opening, with the immediate matter which he had in hand. ''Colonel Walton does not now visit Dorchester so frequently as usual, nor does he often travel so far as the city. May 1 ask if he has heard any late intelligence of moment." Walton looked inquiringly at his guest, as if gather to from his features something of that intelligence which his words seemed to presage. But tne expression was unsatisfactory?perhaps that of rare?so Walton thought, and it gave him a hope of some better fortune for his country than had usually attended its arms heretofore. "I have not. sir; I ride but little now, and have not been in Dorchester for a week, of what intelligence do you speak, sir?" "The proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton, sir?his proclamation on the subject of protections granted to the militia of the province, those excepted made prisoners in Charleston." Col. Walton looked dubious, but still coldly, and without a word, awaited the conclusion of Proctor's statement. But the speaker paused for a moment, and then - he again spoke, the subject seemed to have been somewhat changed. "I am truly sorry. Colonel Walton, that it has not been heretofore in your power to sympathize more freely and openly with his majesty's anns in this warfare against his rebellious subjects." "Stay, sir. if you please; these subjects, of whom your phrase Is rather unscrupulous, are my relatives ana countrymen: and their sentiments on this rebellion have been and are my own, though I have adopted the expedient of a stern necessity, and In this have suspended the active demonstration of principles which I am nevertheless In no haste to forget, and do not suppress." "Pardon me, sir; you will do me the Justice to believe I mean nothing of offence. However erring your thought, I must respect it as honest; but this respect does not forbid that I should lament such a misfortune, scarcely less so to his majesty than to you. It is my sincere regret that you have heretofore found It less than agreeable to unite your arms with those of our army In the arrest of this unnatural struggle. The commission proffered vou by Sir Henry?" "Was rejected. Major Proctor, and my opinions then fairly avowed and seemingly respected. No reference now to that subject need be made by either of us." "Yet am I called upon to make it now. Colonel Walton, and I do so with i hope that what Is my duty will not lose me. by Its performance, the regard of him to whom I speak. I am counselled to remind you, sir, of that proposition by the present command/vP Uln mnlaotv'o #nroOO In CI - lll-ciuci MI Ills Iiiajcovj O wivvu *. the south. Ear! CornwalHs. The proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton to which I have alluded, is of such a nature as opens fresh ground for the renewal of that offer; and in this packet I have Instructions to that end, with a formal enclosure of sea! and signature, from his excellency himself. which covers the commission to vou. sir. in your full rank, as engaged in the rebel army." "You will keep It. sir; again It is repected. I cannot lift arms against my countrymen, and though I readily understand the necessity which requires you to make the tender, you will permit me to say. that I hold It only an equivocal form of insult." "Which, I again repeat. Colonel Walton, Is foreign to all Intention on part of the^oommander-In ? chief. For himself. I surely need make no such attestation. He, sir. Is persuaded to the offer simply as he know your worth and influence?he would secure your co-operation In the good cause of loyalty, and at the same time would soften what may seem the harsh features of this proclamation." "And what Is this proclamation, sir? Let me hear that: the matter has been somewhat precipitately discussed In advance of the text." "Surely, sir," said Proctor, eagerly, as the language of Colonel Walton's last remark left a hope In his mind that he might think differently, on the perusal of the document, which he now took from the hands of his companion, Dickson?"surely, sir, and I hope you will reconsider the resolve which 1 cannot help thinking precipitately made." The listener simply bowed his head, and motioned the other to proceed. Proctor obeyed, and unfolding the Instrument. proceeded to convey Its contents to the ears of the astonished Carolinian. As he read, the cheek of Colonel Walton glowed like fire?his eye kindled?his pulsation increased? and when the insidious decree, calling upon him to resume the arms which he had cast aside when his country needed them, and lift them in behalf of her enemies, was fairly comprehended by his sense, his feelings had reached that climax which despaired of all utterance. He started abruptly from his seat, and paced the room in strong emotion: then suddenly approaching Proctor, he took the paper from his hand, and read it with unwavering attention. For a few mo merits after he had been fully possessed of its contents, he made no remark: then, with a strong effort, suppressing as much as possible his aroused feelings, he addressed the Briton in tones of inquiry which left it doubtful what, in reality, those feelings were. "And you desire that I should embrace this commission. Major Proctor, which, if I understand it. gives me command in a service which this proclamation is to insist upon?am i right?" "It is so, sir: you are right. Here is a colonel's commission under his majesty, with power to appoint your own officers. Most gladly would I place it in your hands." "Sir?Maj. Proctor, this is the rankest villainy?villainy and falsehood. By what light, sir. does Sir Henry Clinton call upon us for military service. when his terms of protection, granted by himself and Admiral Arbuthnot, secured all those taking them in a condition of neutrality?" 'It Is not for me, Colonel Walton," was Proctor's reply?"it Is not for me to discuss the commands of my superiors. Hut does not the proclamation declare these paroles to be null and void after the twentieth?" "True. But by what right does your superior violate his compact? Think you, sir, that the Carolinians would have made terms with the invader, the conditions and maintenance of which have no better security than the caprice of one of the parties? Think you, sir, that I, at least would have been so weak and foolish?" "Perhaps, Colonel Walton?and I would not offend by the suggestion," replied the other with much moderation?"perhaps, sir, it was a singular stretch of indulgence to grant terms at all to rebellion." "Ay, sir. you may call it by what name you please; but the terms, having been once offered and accepted, were to the full as binding between the law and the rebel as between the prince and dutiful subjects." "I may not argue, sir, the commands of my superior," rejoined the other, firmly, but calmly. "I am not ?o bound, Major Proctor; It Is matter for close argument and solemn deliberation with me, and it will be long, sir, before I shall bring myself to lift arms against my countrymen." "There Is a, way of evading that necessity, Colonel Walton," said Proctor eagerly. The otlfer looked at him Inquiringly. though he evidently did not hope for much from the suggested alternative. "That difficulty, sir, may be overcome: his majesty has need of troops In the West Indies; Lord Cornwallls, with a due degard to the feelings of his dutiful subjects of the colonies, has made arrangements for an exchange of service. The Irish regiments will be withdrawn from the West Indies, and those of loyal Carolinians suosuiuiea. i nin irero juu uviu w> risk of encountering with your friends and countrymen, while at the same time it answers equally the purpose of my commander." The soldier by profession saw nothing degrading, nothing servile in the proposed compromise. The matter had a different aspect In the eyes of the southern gentlemen. The proposition which would send him from his family and friends, to engage In conflict with and to keep down those to whom he had no antipathy, was scarcely less painful in its exactions than to take up arms against his immediate neighbors. The suggestion, too, which contemplated the substitution of troops of foreign mercenaries. In the place of native citizens, was Inexpressibly offensive as It directly made him an agent for the increase of ihoi nnwur evhlnh aimed at the de struction of his people and his prinples. The sense of ignominy grew stronger in his breast as he heard it, and he paced the apartment in un-. mitigated disorder. "I am no hireling, Major Proctor, and the war, hand to hand with my own sister's child, would be less shameful to me, however full of pain and misery, than this alternative." "There lstno other, sir, that I know of." "Ay, sir, but there is?there is another alternative. Major Proctor; more than that, sir?there is a remedy." The eyes of the speaker flashed, and Proctor saw that they rested upon the broadsword which hung upon the wall before them. "What is that, sir?" inquired the Briton. "In the sword, sir?in the strife? to take up arms?to prepare for battle!" was the stern reply. Either the other understood him not, with an obtuseness not common with him, or he chose not to understand him, as he replied? ^ "Why that, sir, Is what he seeks?It is what Lord Cornwallis desires, and what, sir. would, permit me to say. be to me. Individually, the greatest pleasure. Your co-operation here, sir. would do more towards quieting discontent than any other Influence." The manner of Walton was unusually grave and deliberate. "You have mistaken me, Major Proctor. When I spoke of taking up the sword, sir, I spoke of an alternative. I meant not to take up the sword to tight your battles, but my own. If this necessity Is to be fixed upon me, sir, I shall have no loss to know my duty." "Sir?Colonel Walton?beware! As a British officer, in his majesty's commission, I must not listen to this language. You will remember, sir, that I am In command of this garrison, and of the neighboring country?bound to repress every show of disaffection, and with the power to determine, In- the last resort without restraint, should my Judgment hold It necessary. I would not willingly be harsh; and you will spare me, sir, from hearing those sentlmenA uttered which become not the ears of a loyal subject." "I am a free man. Major Proctor? I would be one, at least. Things I must call by their right names, and as such, I do not hesitate to pronounce this decree a most dishonest and criminal proceeding, which should call up every honest hand in retribution. Sir Henry Clinton has done this day what he will long be sorry for." "And what, permit me to add. Colonel Walton?what I myself am sorry for. But It Is not for me to question the propriety of that which my duty calls upon me to enforce." "And pray. sir. what are the penalties of disobedience to this mandate?" ?(,,n nf nrnnprtv nild im prisonment. at the discretion of the several commandants of stations." "Poor Kate;?but It is well It is no worse." The words fell unconsciously from the lips of the speaker; he half strode over the floor; then, turning upon Proctor, demanded once more to look upon the proclamation. He again read It carefully. "Twenty days. Major Proctor. I see have been allowed by Sir Henry Clinton for deliberation in a matter which leaves so little choice. So much is scarcely necessary; you shall have my answer before that time is over. Meanwhile, sir. let us not again speak of the subject until that period." "A painful subject, sir, which I shall gladly forbear," said Proctor, rising; "and I will hope, at the same time, that Colonel Walton thinks not unkindly of the bearer of troublesome intelligence." "God forbid, sir! I ant no malignant. You have done your duty with all tenderness, and 1 thank you for it. Our enemies are not always so considerate.',' "No enemies, I trust, sir. I am in hopes that, upon reflection, you will not find it so difficult to reconcile yourself to what, at the first blush, may seem so unpleasant." "No more, sir?no more on the subject." was the quick, but calm reply. "Will you do me honor, gentlemen, in a glass of Madeira?some I can recommend?" They drank, and seeing through the window the forms of the young ladles, Major Proctor proposed to Join them in their walk?a suggestion which his entertainer answered by leading the way. In the meanwhile, let us go back to our old acquaintance. Major Single ton. and his trusty coadjutor, Humphries. (To be Continued). <tv Nothing is really settled that Is not settled right. <t9 People who can talk about themselves to the satisfaction of others, are very scarce. WILLIAMSON'S PLAN. 'i Scientific Discussion by Professor Newman. STUNTING FEATURE IS THE THING. The Cfemson People Have Made a Thorough Investigation of Mr. Williamson's Plan and They Have Given It th* Seal of Their Approval? i Prof, plowman Urges Experiments Next Tear. From the Columbia State: Clemjpn College. Dec. 22.?The following favorable discussion of the "Williamson plan" of corn culture by Prof. C. L. Newman of the agricultural department of Clemson college, will make unusually interesting reading for' thousands of farmers. The discussion will be issued In bulletin form early In January. If the farmers follow tbe plan carefuly there will be .a new era In corn raising In South Carolina. Corn growing by the plan advocated by Mr. E. H. Williamson of Darlington county has become wl'hln the past two years a subject of much Interest to the farmers of South Carolina and adjoining states. One of the msAn features of Mr. Williamson's plan Is in direct opposition to both the theory and practice supposed to be fundamental in the production of corn in the southern states and many farmers are opposed to the 1 plan and condemn It. This opposition and condemnation seems to find its origfn in the failure of many to 1 accept the "stunting process" embraced in the plan, inasmuch as past experience seems to teach them that when corn has been once stunted It Is out of the question to expect a normal or average yield. In support of this position attention Is called to the 1 results from the stunting of pigs or 1 calves?-they are almost invariably 1 undersized when mature. The cauliflower has also been given as an example Of the result of stunting. A cauliflower plant that has been stunted will 'produce what growers term a "button*' and not a well developed cured ojr head. Not a Fair Test Some experienced corn growers have npt only condemned the Williamson plan, but have ridiculed and styled it an absurdity, and in practice an impossibility and not deserving .a consideration, having cited Instances coming within their experi- , ence proving the fallacy of the plan. ( However, when these are question- ( ed. It 1s found that they have folowed , the Williamson plan oniy in pari? that morg, stress was placed upon the , "stuntl^ff Ttlif'e.M than upon-the subsequent treatment: that the side ap- ( plications of fertilizer were made tooearly or too late; that the crop was laid by at the wrong time; or that the other details were not followed? ( details that are apparently essential to the success of the plan. On the , other hand, when the plan was fol- , lowed in every essential detail the verdict seems to be unanimously fa- , vorable and many who have grown a crop, or a part of a crop. In strict accordance with the plan, are not only enthusiastic but extravagant In their advocacy of the plan. Some twelve or fifteen farms upon which corn was grown this year by this plan ( have been inspected. Half as many more were Inspected where the plan was only In part carried out. Where the plan was strictly adhered to the yield was double that secured from nearby fields of equal soil characters , and where the usual methods of corn culture were practiced, and the owners of the farms state that the yield from the Williamson plan was from two to three times greater than had been secured from the same land in the past. Where the plan had been carried through only in part, the yield was reported in many instances as greater than expected and greater than the same soil usually gave, and was perceptibly better than that secured from slmlliar soils of adjacent fields where the ordinary meth .(Is were practiced. Question of Rainfall. The 1906 rainfall was excessive and it is the belief of some that an abundance of rainfall was favorable to the Williamson plan and by others that it was unfavorable. With an abundance of rainfall at least a normal yield is expected and it is claimed by , some that this plan secured unusuany favorable conditions in 1906. On the other hapd those who had fields growing under the conditions of the plan found it difficult to supply these conditions In accordance with the plan on account of the wet condition of the soil and claim that this unavoidable neglect or non-compliance with instructions curtailed the yield. In 1905 with a deficiency of rain this plan succeeded as well as in 1906. It will probably be instructive and interesting at least to quote a few' expressions of approval made by farmers who have had one or more years' experience In this method of corn culture. Each of the following statements were made to the writer while , inspecting Williamson plan cornfields, and each was made by a different party: Some Who Have Tried It. "Refore I tried the Williamson plan I did not raise enough corn to feed my stock. I now have some to sell." "The problem of corn growing In the south has been solved. I can now grow corn cheaper than I can buy it." "I never grew more than 20 bushels of corn per acre until I tried Williamson's plan. I tried it this year and made 38 bushels per acre on land thut ordinarily would make between 12 and 16." "1 consider the Williamson plan the greatest discovery that has been made for years. It means an abundance of cheap corn. The cowpeas grown with the corn will make rich land. With an abundunce of corn for grain, cowpeas for hay and Bermuda for pasturage the south will become the equal of any other section in the production ot live stock." These are given as representative of the more conservative expressions secured from advocates of the Williamson plan. Others were more extreme. Several who grew one or two acres by the Williamson plan this year declared their intention to grow ine Mttnut?ru auuui mtuco. Marlboro Prolific grown by the Wllllamson plan seemed but slightly af- ol fected as regards number of ears to M stalk or size of ears as compared ^ with the same variety grown In the ^ ordinary way. * Twenty-five stalks tf bore 48 ears in one case and the same ^ number of'stalks 46 ears In another. 1)1 The Williamson corn habitually bears tc one ear to the stalk, and the ears, b; when grown by the Williamson plan J? are from six to eight niches long and Cf seven and a half to ten Inches In clr- If eumference. The type Is intermediate ^ between the southern gourd seed and ^ the Standard Dent. The grains are gi from eight to eleven-sixteenths wide ifl p and two to three-sixteenths of an Inch ? thick. The cob Is usually red (the grain white) and from four and a p< half inches In circumference meas- ^ urements being taken one-third the ?( cob length from the butt. A hundred m pounds of ears shell from 82 to 90 pounds of grain. Eighty-five to 100 ears will shell a bushel of corn. Two Notable Facts. yjj A close scrutiny of Mr. William- ui son's article will reveal at least two rc notable facts?that he has given the ^ matter careful and intelligent atten- pj tion and study, and that he is ortho- tt rlox as far as accepted and modern ,r ni agricultural science applied to corn ~ culture is concerned. In addition to cc the application of the Williamson Idea ** to the Williamson plan, he also util- J? Izes all the other modern, up-to-date fl, and accepted principles and practices, tl which, taken together constitute the P' twentieth century idea of crop produc- 1 tlon. Leaving out of consideration, for c< time being, the "stunting" or retarding w process. It will be found Interesting to Jjj examine closely Mr. Williamson's de- w scriptlon of his plan and note how ej thoroughly he has brought to focus the M basal principles of good farm practlce: a? 1. He recognizes the value of avail- c, able plant food, makes what would af commonly be considered heavy appli- 'a cations for corn and endeavors to ap- ^ oly the commercial fertilizers in such of manner and at such time as will se- di cure the most profitable utilization of jjj the applied plant food by the'corn V( crop. Recognizing the two facts that te ??.. ?J ir ine cnaracier 01 sun anu iiuauuij ui ^ rainfall have a tendency to dissipate J!( plant food and that the demand of a a] corn plant for food Is cumulative up In to the time the ear is produced, he adjusts his cultivation and fertilizer fc application to suit. ai 2. While the quantity used and the time of application of commercial fer- gj tlllzers are Important factors in the gi plan and so stressed, the necessity of ti vegetable matter in the soil Is fully recognized and Mr. Williamson says: 5, "The place of this (vegetable matter) si In the permanent Improvement of land T can never be taken by commercial fer- tj. tlllzers, for it is absolutely impossible si to make lands rich as long as they are ct lacking In vegetable matter." It Is confidently believed that every agrl- f cultural authority recognizes humus as the prime requisite and most universal deficiency In southern soils, and 8* of the greatest need in southern farm a] practice and that a large majority will ul agree with Mr. Williamson in deslg- O] nating the cow pea as the most Im- ^ portant source of humus* for the south. Preparation of Land. _ hi y, 3. "Land should be thoroughly and |a deeply broken for corn, and this is sr the time in a system of rotation to 1> deepen the soil." The character of 8j plowing done in the south Is notori- sj ously poor and the lack of system of gi rotation Is proverbial. 4. "A deep soil will not only produce 01 more heavily than a shallow soil with gotxl seasons, but It will stand more el wet as well as more dry weather." w This is aphoristic and needs no com ment. tl 5. "In preparing for the corn crop N land should be broken broadcast dur- '' Ing the winter one-fourth deeper than tj it has been broken before, or if much h vegetable matter is being turned under it may be broken one-third deeper. (Q] 't may, however, be subsoiled to any c< lepth by following In bottom of turn ji plow furrow, provided no more of the subsoil than has been directed Is ei turned up." The broadcast breaking T of corn land In the fall or winter is P by no means a common practice In the Q' south and the gradual deepening of tl the soil as advocated above is the ex- ol caption. Subsolling is opposed by 0< fin many farmers and practiced by few. s] Broadcast plowing, fall and winter h! plowing (particularly the latter In the IT south) and subsolling are operations that now are given almost universal w endorsement by well informed and y< practical men. If done at the proper time and in appropriate association with prevailing conditions, results from y? these operations cannot help but bear st fruit. ? fi. "Break with two-horse plow if possible, or better, with disc plow." a It Is a painfully acknowledged fact that the one-horse plow is the rule (j) through a very great portion of the it south and that this implement is more ai frequently drawn by an animal weigh 111K IHUfl .TVW pwuuus mail uj vkv ^ of greater weight. The actual per- p< formance of the one-horse plow might more often be designated as "scratching" than plowing. The depth to P' which it works averages less than 8t three inches and it has been an im- tr portant factor in bringing about the ui washed condition of soils so noticeable ni where cotton Is king.- The introduc- st Hon of the disc plow is one of the lo longest forward strides ever made in 'r southern agriculture. Unfortunately, it requires two animals to draw it. tl Sound Doctrine. w 7. "Never plow land when it is too "J wet. If you expect ever to have any use for It again." This Is sound doc- pi trine in theory, principle and practice. 8. "Tail stalks not only will not pro- c" duce well themselves, but will not al- tl their entire next year's crop by this i< plan. n Comparison of Field*. Is Of the fields inspected where the d Williamson plan was followed closely, ei only three varieties of corn were 01 found to have been used. All of these b fields were planted In the Williamson tl corn except two. One of these two bi was planted In a variety similar to h; th? Williamson corn ears, but with d! longer cob and shorter and broader t( grain; the other was planted In Marl- " boro Prolific. This last named varlety grew alongside of the Williamson S| corn and gave a slightly heavier yield w of grain on shorter stalks. The ears j* on the Williamson corn stood about h, three feet above the ground and on s< - -< * na ff >w you to make the pea - vines, so m ecessary to the improvement of the ^ ind." A comparison of the ears pro- s( uced by the Williamson plan with ol irs of the same variety grown by the j* rdinary method shows that there is ^ ut slight difference in size or in quan- y< ty of corn to the cob, the difference eing apparently' about nine and a alf per cent in favor of the ordinary Ian. More of the large stalks failed st ) produce an ear than did the W1Iamson plan stalks. The ordinary Ian stalks were from two to four times di irger than the Williamson plan w alks. Since about 400 pounds of r< ater are required to produce one d< aund of corn dry matter, it is evident P> tat the large stalks more rapidly ex- P> iust the water supply and as a con- * squence would not only be first af(Cted in dry weather, but would se- Xf ously Interfere with the growth of ? ?w peas sown with the corn, a growth w ' vital consideration as a part of the ht Williamson plan. It was a noticeable hi ict that the replanted stalks in Mr. *1' Williamson's field and in others grew th > at least double the size (weight) oi ot le stalks that had been subjected to le full treatment of. the Williamson gi ?? re "Corn should be planted from four <n i six Inches below the level and laid V from four to six Inches above." It ea necessary that the corn be planted vt jout five Inches below the level to Pi irry out the conditions of the plan. P' , however. It Is laid by four to six iches above the level of the soils sur- pi ice, the base of the stalks would be le om eight to twelve Inches in the al round, a condition that might be un- tv ivorable In some characters of soil. sc urther. the surface at the row would rc } more than four to six Inches abov or le center of the middles, and this ex- tli .sure of a greater soil surface to the Hf feet of evaporation would probably 1? ive a detrimental effect in dry seams. Planting four inches deep In lany soils In the upper part of the lo ate Is not advisable on account of to te nature of the subsoil. Hoeing Is Expensive. 10. "No hoeing should be necesiry, and middles may be kept clean ^ ntil time to break out by using har- _ >w. or by running one shovel turrow g2 i center of middle and bedding on tat. with one or more rounds of turn 40 low." Since the corn Is planted In 40 te water furrow and at least four go ches below the ground's level, it is 30 >t a difficult matter to kill all or very _ early all of the weeds In the row by j j tverlng them with earth by using me kind of horse power. Hoeing jj, one of the most expensive elements or corn growing and many farmers id it difficult to dispense with. It le same work can be done by one u, low the labor of six or eight hoe- 0f mds is saved. pi 11. "In the middle west, where ar >rn is so prolific and profitable, and ^ here, unfortunately for us, so much ' ours has been produced, the stalk fa jes not naturally grow large. As e come south its size increases at the C( cpense of the ear, until in Cuba and ci exico it Is nearly all stalk (witness w exican varieties)." It la a well es- n{ iblished fact that as the tropic Is jf iproached the size of corn stalks in- to eases and that this Increase Is often th : the expense of the grain. The th rge stalk demands and transpires th 1 Immense quantity of water in ex- |n ss of that needed In the development fe the grain. The occurrence of to 'ought when the ear making is In fn -ogress and when the corn stalk has al aveloped Its maximum leaf'area pre- to >nts a normal grain development af- (j r the stalk has grown to a size de- 0f landing a large supply of soluble to lant food. The Williamson plan p? mtempiates the application 'of avail- Ci ale plant food, just as the ear-mak- Cr ig begins and after the size of the 8j] alk had been controlled. Some corn owere do not. endorse the necessity >r "stunting" or retarding process, id are of the opinion that the stalk lould be kept in a uniformly vigor- * is growth, allowed to develop to a ~~ ze normal to the variety and then ve the Intercultural or side appllca- on of fertilizers In conformity to f? lr. Williamson's plan. A number of " cperlments based on this Idea have ?en executed, but no remarkable re- rf ilts or conclusions have followed, he late application of fertilizers folwing the application of fertilizers In . le drill before planting has generally town an increase In a majority of ises, but the increase in a majority ^ ' cases reported was not sufficient to ilance the cost of the late applied . rtillzer. Big Stalks Not Desirable. er Not only does the tendency of corn pi em to become less prolific as the th alk Is increased In size beyond what ^ ppears to be normal for any partic- 8C lar variety, but the excessive devel- ot pment of stalk also seems to carry ]a ith it an Increased tendency towards fr arrenness. Varieties of corn that a, ave developed in the south or that jj| ave for a number of consecutive m jars been grown here habitually are ac trge stalked. Varieties brought fr >uth from the north increase rapid- 3c in size of stalk. The experiment y| atlon this year grew Mexican June w* >rn from seed imported from Mexico yj de by side with the same variety dj rown In Texas. The stalks of the p? irmer were 14 to 17 feet high and e] f the latter seven to ten feet. bi 12. "Plant your own seed." It has 2J een repeatedly demonstrated that et ther north or south of the point fa here seed are to be planted will not ct roduce so well as seed grown under >11 and climatic conditions to which gj le coming crop will be subjected, tli otwithstandig the fact that very few jjj irmers devote intelligent attention m > the breeding, selection and care of oi leir seed corn, many find that their in ome grown seed produce better than ti| ie high-priced seed procured from ec Istance and discredit the advantages is f breeding and selection by drawing cc >ncluslons from comparisons not tt * ? " Wllllamonn lsuy compvrttuie. m. ot only uses his own seed, but prac- b? ces careful selection and has select- b< J his seed for a number of years, er he writer once collected 119 sam- w les of corn from localities scattered n< om the Canadian border to the Gulf is r Mexico on the one hand and from w le Rocky Mountains to Maine on the fo ther. These samples represented 20 m Id varieties and were planted and in rown under conditions as nearly mllar as possible. Pour out of five Ighest yields were grown from home rown seed and the other had for gI lany years grown on very nearly the j* i me parallel of latitude as the point here the test was made. "Plant ~ aur own seed"' does not mean that iy old seed you happen to have will ^ 9. but presupposes that the variety ^ rown has been grown for several " ?ars and that the grower not only *. arted out with a good variety, but j" is annually improved it by breeding, lection and good care, developing ^ s adaptability to surroundings. Such " variety should be grown on every trm in the state. r* The above numbering of items was I unco and the 12 Ulie IUI ems refer. In the main, Ho approved . nd accepted though not necessarily ... llowed corn culture practices. While J| ley enter Into and become a part of rr le Williamson's plan, they ar? not . ?culiar to It. ^ Williamson Plan Features ni The peculiar or essential Williamson m an features are: 1. Deep and thorough preparation of re ?ed bed. The soil is not only broken tli > fully twice the depth to which It Is cc dually broken, but is broken much pi lore thoroughly than Is the custom. S< 2. Deep planting of the seed. The as >ed are placed four or six Inches be- se iw the soil level and almost or quite a< i contact with the subsoil but covered m i the usual depth. This aids In In ituntlng" or retarding the growth of dt te young corn and of grasses and eeds as well, since very nearly all the >11 proper has been plowed away om the com row and Into the mid- In les. and no fertilizer has been ap- III led lo 3. Infrequent and partial cultivation M i early stages of growth. This is K intrary to popular belief and prac- N ce and Mr. Williamson styles It "the St iost difficult point in the whole prows' requiring experience and judglent "to know Just how much the alk 'should be stunted, and plenty f nerve is required to hold back your >rn when your neighbors, who feriise at planting time and cultivate raplly, have corn twice "the size of >urs." 4. An increase of 200 per cent or ore In the number of stalks per acre, nth rows six feet by one the William- . xi plan has a little more than 7,200 alks per acre against a little more tan 2,900 if planting is' done five by tree feet, In accordance with the ornary practice. Theoretically, this ould give 73 and 29 bushels per acre, sspectlvely, and It seems, from evlmce at hand, that It is borne out In actlce, assuming that each stalk win oduce an ear and 100 ears will shell bushel of grain. K. Postponing application of fertlllirs until corn Is given its second iltlvatlon. In ordinary practice this ould be about the time corn should 5 worked , the third time. The stalk is been checked or "stunted" as dered and the fertilizer Is applied when ie plant needs it for the development ' the ear. 6. Intentional retardation of early owth of the stalks until its size Is duced one-half or one-fourth Its noral development. ' -v 7. Augmented development of the 1 ir (following retardation in stalk dedoped) by cultivation and heavy apIcations of fertilizers - made at ap oprlate intervals. Since the Williamson plan cosn is anted four to six inches below the vel and Is laid by four to six inches >ove the level, there Is eight to (reive Inches of the stalk below the II surface. The stalk roots or brace lots are below the surface when the op Is laid by and probably perform telr nutritive functions better than ould be If a part of them were ex>sed tp the air. * ' ' * " Fertilizer Per A ore. Mr. Williamson recommends the folwlng amounts of fertilizers applied an acre: For 50 bushels of corn per acre: >0 pounds of cotton seed meal i0 pounds pf acid phosphate 0 pounds of kalnit fj pounds of nitrate of soda 6 pounds costing about . ror i?JO Dusneis 01 corn per acre: 0 pounds of cotton seed meal 0 pounds of acid phosphate 0 pounds of kainlt 0 pounds of nitrate soda ? v"' 900 pounds costing: about $19. The total cost of fertilisers, cultlvajn, etc., for producing 50 bushels on ie acre would vary from $15 to $20 /&Lja id for producing 100 bushels on one ;re from $25 to $30. Those valuaons are based on the market price the fertilisers (assuming the acid lospliate to be 14 per cent goods) id tbe average prise of labor. The >st of labor varies in different parts ' the state and even on adjacent rms. If the cow pea crop grown with the irn produces one ton of hay, this op if left on and in the ground, ould add to it about $12 worth of trogen, phosnhoric acid and potash, the cow pea crop would produce two ns of hay. this, crop left on ,and in e ground would add $24 worth of ese fertilizer ingredients. However, ie value of the cow pea hay for feedg purposes is double Its value for rtlltxlng purposes. If judiciously fed animals, this hay will have a feedg value of about $24 per ton and if 1 the excreta is saved and returned > the soil between 80 and 90 per cent 110.20 per ton) of the fertilising value ' the cow pea hay will be given back i the land. An ordinary crop of cow ;as may be made to pay the cost of iltivating the corn, or, probably the ?t of the fertiliser. A good crop lould pay for both. Efforts at Just Comparison. Considerable effort has been made to ither as much comparative data as isslble so as to have Williamson plan >rn yields that might justly be comired with yields from the ordinary ethod. It is highly desirable that as r as possible, and without prejudicg either, the two crops for comirison be grown on the* same char :ter of land and planted at tne same me and that the treatment and ?urundings of each differ In no way exipt as <o the peculiar or essential atures of difference existing between e two plans or methods. Repc- 's of ime three dozen farmers who have lis year given the Williamson plan test have been brought to the notice ' the writer. Some of these were not tnsldered definite enough for consldation. but 28 reported either a corairison of yields from crops grownlis year by both plans or gave yields cured this year from the Willtamin plan and yields secured from the dinary plan In the paSt on the same nd. The two lowest yields reported om the ordinary method were seven id ten bushels per acre. The two ghest yields reported from the same ethod were 45 to 50 bushels per ire. The two lowest yields reported om the Williamson plan were 27 and > bushels per acre. The two highest elds reported from the same plan ere 100 and 120 bushels per acre. The elds from 28 reporting both the ornary and the Williamson plan oornired gives an average of 2S.25 bushs per acre for the former and 50.42 ishelA per acre for the latter. These I show a remarkable average dlfferice of 33.17 more bushels per acre in ivor of the Williamson plan, an laease of 142 per cent It cannot howrer, in justice to either method, be tid that these comparisons indicate te actual difference between the Wilimson plan and the ordinary method, any of the reports give the number ' bushels per acre in round numbers, idicating that the yields were esrnated rather than actually determlnI. In a number of cases the yield In lOti from the Williamson plan was tmpared with the yield secured from te same land when It was last in >rn, the compared crops not having *en grown the same year. There may s other sources of error. On the oth hand, a large majority of farmers fh? Williamson nlan >w enthusiastically accept it and It the sensation in the communities here the plan has been consistently illowed. It is hoped that every farer in the state will give it a fair and ipartlal trial in 1907. Two Crops Instead of One. An abundance of South Carolina 'own com yielding twice as much ?r acre as is now grown would give iro staple crops instead of one. In 06 South Carolina produced on 1,878,'8 acres 20,480.860 bushels of corn orth $15,165,836. The're Is an unforinate inconsistency in the fact that hlle South Carolina holds the record r the largest yield of com ever proiced on one acre, there Is only one ate that produces a lower average :re yield. The average acre yield for le ten years ending 1905, was" 9.49 ishels per acre for South Carolina id 9.33 bushels per acre for Florida, i 1906 South Carolina produced an rerage of 10.9 bushels per acre, worth i December 1, 1905, 74 cents per bushand Florida produced an average of i.l bushels per acre worm on me ime date 66 cents per bushel. On e same date the average farm price corn was higher per bushel in only rlzona (97 cents per bushel), CalK'ora (76 cents per bushel), and Wyoing (75 cents per bushel). The following data complied trom a cnt report of the bureau of startles for 1905, shows South Carolina mpared with the six principal corn oduclng states of the country. If juth Carolina should produce twice i much corn per acre in 1907 as was cured in 1905 the farm value per :re would be greater with 1905 prices alntsining, than the acre farm value Illinois for 1905, and Illinois proices more corn than any other state: Price Bushel Value per per acre per acre bushel idiana 40.7 $15.74 $.38 linois 39.8 15.12 .38 wa ...T. 34.8 11.83 .34 * issouri 33.8 12.51 .37 ansas 27.7 9.14 .$$ ebraska 32.8 10.60 .32 >uth Carolina ..10.9 8.07 .74