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" ' .tile Canrastcr Ccftgcr. ?2 PER ANNUM SS^ST IN ADVANCE J /amilg flail ^alitiuU ihuispfljirc?Pruaifil is tyr iris, ^titares, litrratnrr. fimratinn, igricultarr, 3ntrrual 3uiprnnriuriits, /orngu auH Hmurstic JJtuis, anil tjjt Blorkrts. V O LU M E V 11 I . LANCASTER C. H, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPT., 14, 1359. N U M It E R 51. lelrrt ^ The Motherless. <lod help ami shield t lie motherless, The stricken, bleeding dove? For whon? there gushes no rich fount Of deep and deathless love? The saddest title grief confers, 'For who so sad .-is they, ITdoii whose nath a mother's love Sheds not its holy ray ! No gentle form above them heads To soothe the couch of pain ? No voice ho fond as her'n essays To film the feverish brain. Oh, other tongues may whisper love, In accents soft and mild, ' Hut none on enrth ho pure as that A mother hears a child. Judge kindlv of the motherless? A weary lot is their's. And oft the heart of the gayest seems, A load of sorrow bears. No faithful voice directs their steps. Or Vfds thern onward press, "And if tliev gang a ken?in' wrong." (>?d help the motherless! idertfi ?>tunj. From the New York Waverly. Walking the Plank. UY WM EAItLK HINDER. I lie history of the west is one long re. oi.i of bl.iody and atrocious deeds.? Not the least iu the daik and iiiicriiiiniib!" catslogue is the little event we are a Unit to lay before our kind rentiers. We heard the story Ironi the hps ot one who pi ii-t.se l?and we have in* good reason to duuhl his word?to luive played a ] 11 iueiit part in the thrilling occui rence ami we wive it to the reader just as we have In;ml d. 'Some ymus ago,' sa_\s tiie narrator, a Irieiid and in v sell agreed together to take a tramp, linuter frshion, through the k great wiiilenieaaofllieNorthwe.it. llav in > provided ourselves with what things i we thought actually necessary and nothing more, we started upon our perilous j uriiey ; for that it wu.a perilous we tveto I ?i1 \ aware, ami every reader will admit. 'After encountering eunutnerable hardship* and many dangers, we found ours.-li?s iii the w i le t kind of a region, m in\ miles d-siai.t troui the haunts of civ i /.i inn Aire idv we had passed thru igli enough to have discouraged most <d men, h it we were young and full of M i. ami not easilv put out or Irighleii t i n.- ..i...i. <i *" " ................ . iuv Colllp ih'oii, wIlON iiHtill! WHS Amlv Hut). '!>.>tli ?if its were perfectly heultlyy, as * ? r -u^j !i* Iron Hiitl considerable experien C- <1 ill till! Il?? of ftUL'll articles HH ntl.'M, p hioIh and bo .vie knives. In hII these we could hold our own with the l?est; had it been otherwise we never should have lived to reach the point at which we finally arrived. ' Ins. ahout dusk one evening in the tatter part of July, after a hard day's I tramp, we halted for the night. A dark or, deeper, lonelier solitude than that ' w hich surrounde ! us, it would he hard to imagine. Silently we built a little tire and cooked our supper ; and silently we ate it Worn out and for the time being slightly dispirited, we were in no humor lor con vers ition. 'For sometime we sat by our camp fire without uttering a single word, and al most without moving. I was limiting of liora* and absent fr ends, and it is onJv reasonable fo think that Huff was siin i i. nt occupied. | 'After ibe lapse of some time, our fire | !cn til low and 1 hrose to replenish it. The i i ..l ..( ~ maii 1 1 5?1 *' i n n??i< ninui?;i| IIH*, iilMI I II1VOI unmrily addressed iny companion. Jlutr <li.l not answer me, however, but, without noticing the circumstance*, 1 threw a quantity of fagot* on (lie tire ami again addressed liiin. 'Take a few hour* rent, Andy, mnl I'll keep watch,' said I, 'and after that yon (can do (lie name by me.' 'Still 1 got no anawer and theu I began to notice my companion'* unusual tacitur i-iUy. 'Anyibing the matter, Andy V said F, (regarding him cloaely. Vio anawer again. 'That'* a little strange,' I muttered, Miovmg over toward iny comjianion. J J off was nitoiiig lacing the fire, with I hid head bent down upon bis knee*. I -hook him without arousing him. Finally I raised Ilia head, and at once hecaine Conscious that he was soundly, deeply asleep. 'Laughing off the .fears which bad for a :?-w moment* oppressed me, 1 left Huff .to enjoy hi* nap, and settled invself down *? comfortably a* the circumstance* would permit* I was dreadful drowsy, and despite our ( perilous situation, despite every effort J ? made to the contrary, I could not entirely , resist the orerjiowaring influence of sleep. | (Occasionally I st*rie<l up siiiirieulr, and found that I had been doling. 'Hie lust tune I was * roo ted I wu awoke by tbe bark of a w if. Jumping to my feet, I beheld the fierce animal not a dozen pa* ce* distant, hi* ravenou* eyes glaring up on me from the darkness. Keiaing up a burning brand, I flung it at the rapacious monster with all iny strength. It struck iiint full in the face, and with a terrible I nowi ne uartcu oil into the forest. Hull did not awake, did not even stir, so sound I wh? liit repose. 'After that 1 did not feel much inclined to sleep, though nothing further wan to lie seen or heard. I examined my rifle | and pistols, piled more fagots o.i the fire, j and kept on the inove, my eyes and cars open for any more nocturnal visitors. 'Some time passed quietly, and I began I to grow insufferably weary. Every muscle relaxed, and a drowsy torpor gradu* , | ?lly stole over me. My eye# closed uu| consciously ? my knees bent beneath me, I and I was about dropping to the ground, | when I was suddenly aroused by the J sound of a man's voice. 'Hello fellers, how d'yer do !' were the I i words which fell on my ears, and arous j ed me to full consciousness. ; 1 looked around in bewilderment. Our little camping ground was encircled by a j dozen or more brawny, fierce looking desper .does. It was a complete surprise, and on the spur of the moment, I yelled aloud : 'Andy, Andy, wake up!' 'Ye*, wake up, Andy '.'echoed the out* laws loudly and derisively. 'A'Oused at last my comrade sprang to tiis feet, and the next moment was standing bv my hide. 'Instantly a dozen or more rifies were levelled at us with deadly aim. 'Yer ain't goin* to show figlit, ar' ye ?' demanded one of the outlaws, a brutal looking wretch, and the leader of the band, as it afterward appeared. 'That depends on circumstances !' re, sponded Andy, unhesitatingly. 'We're two good men, afraid of neither man nor devil, and if your intentions are hostile, as they appear to be, you may take my word for it, that we'll give you all the trouble we can. Yer won't now, will yer ?' rejoined the desperado tauntingly. 'Guess yer'll have yer ban's full ef yer try that sort uv a game.' Well, what do you want here, anyhow ? I demanded, boldly, fully satisfied in my own mind that if we got out of our present scrape we had to fight out of it. 'What do von want llinr ?' was the rapid reply. 'I guess the forests as Iree to us as it is to any one else. Don't kal kalale lb tt you're boss here, stranger do yer I' No,' was Andy's quick reply, and be took the words out of my mouth,' nor are you. Hut, that's not the point!' lie added ; 'what do you want with us ?' ?\ ,tr mntiotf uml t?or ' T T ..1? - - %-j ...I., j v. . i? #% |?r? . uil'JLTstand that sort o' |:?Ik, don't yer ?' | * Y oe, ivii umlurxiitixl iIimI yuu'ta a , of thieves and cut'throats !' responded | Andy, fiercely ; 'hut it you gel anything ! liotn us you've got to fight for it, though I we Hie tint two against a dozen, (five i 'em a flint, comrade! added the fiery tel< lows addressing himself to mo. 'Wecar.'i inake I!io matter woise !' 'I thought so, too, and raising my rifio Andy and myself fired simultaneously. 'Immediately two of ihu outlaws fell dead to the ground, and (lie rest uttered a concerted yell lint sounded more fearful than the Imwl of the wolf 1 had so recently driven away. Now, give 'em the pistols !' shouted J Andy, Ids whole soul in the deadly con I tin t.' 'Each of u* carried a brace of double 1 barreled pistols, which gave us eight shots between us, and quick as lightning we were discharging the loads in the faces of the outlaws. Six more of the brigands fell before our aim, w bile we remained tin injured, notwithstanding a number of scattering shots whistled around I>nr I.urs ' Hiitl over out heads. 'Now charge ujK>ri the thieves !' yelled Andy, in stentorian tones. 'I followed my comrade's lead, and topettier we charged upon the remaining five outlaws, for that number were left.? A fierce and bloody figbt ensued. An dy performed miracles, and I did double duty ; but at length, as fate would have it, we were both rendered 'bora du com hat,' my comiade by a pistol wound in the side, and 1 by a bowie cut in the right shoulder. 'I knew nothing 'more after that, for the next moment I became unconscious. | When I camo to myself, I found I whs in a cave, and it was nut long before I dis< covered that the cave was the haunt of roldiers. That much I learned by listening, for I could see nothing, the bright light of day seeming never to penetrate , that dismal cavern. It was the gloomiI est, chilliest place I was ever in, ami from | the bottom of my hanrt I wished myself well out of it. 1 thought of Andy, you nisy be *ure, but could fee no way of finding out what bad become of hi in. 'After a while, however, an ohl and 1 outrageously ugly Jnd<an squaw made her appearance. She brought me fi km) and medicine, and a temporary light.? j My wounds had already been dressed,? j Of course I was eager to question her. i 'My good woman,' aaid I, very pleasantly, i should like to know where I am I ? will you tell me !' 'She shook her head negatively, and | to all ( could say or do I got no other an | *?er. I enquired about Andy and other matters, hut received uo satisfaction. Ki ! nally, 1 gave up in despair, and lei the ) old hag go. A week passed and 1 wss eompsr* livHj well. AImmiI (Ue expiration of lb?t i time, the old squaw came to in? mie day, (and beckoned me to follow her. I laving no reason to refu?? obedience, ! complied with her direction!, end alter traversing a number of dark passages found myself in the open sir. It was a bright sunny morning, and despite my situation, I in I baled the pure atmosphere with delight. > t x "''jf' ' * * I _ ' ^ i 'Assembled on the spot I beheld a gang of a score or more of the worst looking men I orer encountered, and in their midst my friend and comraile Andrew Iluflf. Andrew looked frightfully pale ! and emaciated, and appeared to have suffered much worse than myself. We j had barely time to greet each other, and J say 'God ble-s you, comrade !' when wo I were suddenly and roughly seized and ef | fectnally gagged. At the same time one of the outlaws, whom 1 at once recogni I zed as the leader of the party which we I had first encountered, stepped forward | and addressed us. 'Now, cuss ver !' cried he. passionately, i?,?'ii .....i ? * 1 I jv-1 iur yer uaiidj worK i t'other night. Strip'em !' | In h few moments we were stepped to | I the skin, and wo had neither tlie power j I to resist or expostulate. | 'Out with the plank bosses !' yelled the j same fellow. 'Fust, show 'em the way j they're going to travel !' 'We were separately led to the brink I of a chasm near by, and made to look i down into the almost unfathomable j j depths. A stream of water dashed along ' over the rocks at lite bottom. It made | I me di7;/.v to look down. We were then j stationed a few feel from the brink, with j j a gtiar.l over us. I began to compre j Itcnd that some frightful death awaited | i u>, huh my lecimgs were ureatllul. 'A plank about h do%cti leel long and j a foot w ide was then brought forward and ( placed half way over the precipice. My blood ran cold at the preparation. On one end of the idank two men sta- I tinned themselves. 'Now, drive the cuss for'ard !' shouted I the leader, pointing to And v. 'Tot her fallow shall ree him drop, an' then he ! follows arter htm. Urive him 011 lhar, | bosses !' 'Kvery eflort was made to move Andy, | hut the poor fellow continued obstinate, j I The outlaws pricked hun with their kni ves, and l>eat him with their rifles, but he refused to stir. 'Carry tbe cuss'd' shouted the leader, madly. 'Despite his struggles, Andy was picked up bodily and carried to the plank. As the outlaws let him down they gave him a violent push which sent him for ward to the end of the plank over the precipice. Andy swayed from side to 8111 >. AIl.l ulrmrirla.l uriLlIu I" '" * > " } w ?'" balance. lie tailed however, hti?1 fell over in his f'i|| desperately clutching al the I plank. There he held with his linger J nails liuried in the wood. It whs a horj rid scene, and my blood runs cold at the j bare recollection of it. Let linn go ' shouted the fiendish leaI dor. 'The men w ho were stamping on the j other end ol the plank jumped otlT, and i plank and Andy whirled down into the i seething depths below. Despite the gag j in his mouth, the poor fellow uttered a | hind and terrifying shriek before lie disup1 I pea red from sight forever. The cry rings I in inv ears now, though years have pas* I ed since then. I shall never forget it. 'The outiatss sprang to the edge of the cliti' and with savage exultation watched | Andy's descent. Now, for t'other cuts!' shouted tho leader, after the lapse of a few moments. At that instant a loud repott of fire| arms suddenly reverberated far and near, I and half of the bandits, al least, fell dead j to the earth. The balls whistled aroui d i me thick as hail, but I esc*nod unhurt ? I I - Instantly afterward a paitv of trappers ; rushed upon (lie scene and charged at the j outlaws. The fight was short hot desper| ate. in the end not an outlaw of them all remained alive, though tliey fought like incarnate devils 'In the first moments of the melee I got away out of the reach of harm ? Pinioned and gagged, I would have been of no use to myself or anybody. After the conflict was over I made my appearance and gave a statement of all that had transpired. From the trappers I learner! that the cry of Andy had direc ted them to the spot ; but, poor fellow, they came too late to save him. 'I thanked God and the mountaineers ! for my own preservation, and quitted the I scene with a sense of relief mingled with i a feeling of suluess. 'Gentlemen, that was about the worst , situation I was ever placed to, and mav . you never have a aiunlar experience.' "It's What You Spend." Mi's wliat thee'll sp*nd, mv son,' said a sage ol<) Quaker, 'not what thee'll make, winch will decide whether lliee'* to be 1 rich or not.' This w as only Franklin's ad j vice in another form : ' Take care of the pennies, and the pounds will take care of themselves.' A cotemporary remarks: 'Men 1 are continually indulging in small expen ses, saying to thcmseltea that it is only a trill**, yel forgetting that the aggregate is serious, that even the sea shore is made up of pretty grains of sand. Ten cents a day, even, is thirty six dollars and a half n year and that is the interest of a capita! r\( aie liuiwlroil il/Jluvs 'The in?u that saves ten cent* a day only in so much richer than him who does ' not, as if he owned a life estate in a house 1 worth six hundred dollars. Keery sixteen 1 years ten cents a day becomes to six ' hundred dollars ; and, if invested quarter* ly, does not take half that time. But t?n \ rents a day is child's play, some will exclaim. Well, then, J lion Jacob A*tor use to say thai when a man, 'vlio wishes to b-i rich, has saved leu thousand dollars, he has won half the battle. Not that As tor thought, ten thousand dollars much. Hut lie knew that, in making such a sum, a man acquired habits of prudent eeono my, which would constantly keep him advancing in wealth. IJow many, however, upend ten thousand in a few years in oxi tra expenses, and when, on looking hack, cannot tell, as they say, where the money went to. To save is the golden rule to get rich. To squander, even in small sums, js the first step towards the poor house. rne African Verdict. Alexander of Maccedonia, once entered into a neighboring and wealthy province of Africa. The inhabitanU came forth to meet him and brought their robes filled with golden apples and fruit. 'Kat this fruit among yourselves !' said Alexander, 'I a:n not come to see your wealth, but to learn your customs.' They then conducted him to the market where their King administered justice. A citizen just then came before him and sai<l ; I brought of this man, oh King, a sack full of chaff; and have found in it secret treasure. The chaff is mine but not the gold ; and this man will not lake it again. Command him, oh king, that he receive it for his own. And his antagonist, a citizen of the place answered. Thou feare-t to retain anything unjustly, and should I not also fear to take such i thing from thee ? I have sold thee the ] sack with all that is in it, for it is thine, j Command him, oh king.' The king inquired of the first one, if he | had a son. He answered, 'Yes.' lie then enquired of the other if he had a daughl j er, and the same answer'Yes,' was returned. 'Well then,' said the king "yon are both just men; marry your children to j earb other and give them the discovered treasure as a marriage portion. This is l my verdict.' an'* inner was asionisiioil tvneil lie heard this decision. i 'Have I judged unjustly,' said the king of this remote coutitiy,'that thou ail thus | astonished }' j 'Not at all,' answered Alexander, 'hut in our country, 'ttiey would have judged I far otherwise.' 'And how would you have judged V asked the king. 'lloth parties would have lost their ' heads,' answered Alexander, 'and their | treasute have fallen into the hands of the j king. I Then the king clasped his hands to gellier and said, 'Does the sun then shine upon von f And do the heavens still shower their rain upon you V 'Yes,' replied Alexander. 'It must then he,' continued ' the king, 'for the sake of the innocent beasts that 1 infesis voir country ; f??r upon^ such men no sun should shine and no rain should 1 fall.' How To Live Long. More people die annually from a want j of sufficient brain work tlian from an ex ! cess of it. Good liealtii of body and mind | depends on each having bis full share of exercise and ?ork, and it would seem I from history that we can better afford ibe body to be in a state of lassitude than nb low the intellectual powers to lie dormant. There may be a plivsiel cause for ibis, from the fact that much thought induces a temperate life ; but the exceptions to such a rule would be found so enormous 1 as to show that it was not the only secret. We are rather inclined to think that the I most general rule and the one capable of the brocdeat application, by which to at ta.ii to that great desideratum, 'a green old age,' is to give the mind full play?to ' expand the powers of thought by reading I and observation, and to banish the fear of | death, resulting from an exhausted 'knowl I edge b<'X.' We have shown to w hat ages | the old philosophers lived, and many j modern ones have been equally longi lived. Galileo and Roger Raeon both lived to 18, liuffon died at 81, Goethe ' and West were 82, Franklin and Hers [ clitd lived to 84. and Newton ami Vol , txire did not finish their labors until 85. ' The astronomer Ilallev 80 at his doI cense, and Sir llans Sonne was 03 Mich I el Angelo and Titian, the ureal master of | ait, lived tc 00. These, surely, aro iijsUtn res enough to stimulate the individual who wishes to live long, toi ta^jfatget to cultivate the inleliectuin TacullMl and im aginafi , wh'le he is attending to the "WMMpl aids of exercise, cleanliness and ;ewrppnncc. We all think too much of the tiedv and uegieci the higher and di* I vi'rtOr pert within us ; we cleans the tem | pie and adorn its pillars, but we forget i that the dweller therein ?Uo requires attention and care. Ik, Asn ms Prooeny.?If every one 1 were honest, we need not lock our door. If everybody would mind just his own business, there would he more business done. If we would talk less about other peo pie, other people would talk less about us. If there were fewer novels in the world there would he fewer numsculis. If the mistress would scold less, site would have less need of scolding. If you often charge servants with lying, they will soon become liars, if they are not to already. If students would read less, and think iiiuix, vnnio wuuiu ue n larger nuinoer 01 really great men in our community. If young India* now a daya did not be* come women at thirteen, men would hare better wivea. If you want to yet rich, work bard and spend little. If you want to render your husband unhappy, blame him for everything he does, right or wrong ; acold him for thin or that, before you know whether he did it I: fW " * ^ ^ I mM\ IRpniiiug, Home Heathen. There is a class of heathen at homo who *lo not usually go under that name ?a class that must he looked after more energetically than they have generally been, before those beyond them can he reached. We do not mean the denizens of the Five Points, the mass of paganized Romanists, nor the atheists who come in trom Germany. There are enough of these !r> lill&V !? I.unrlr.wl ?? I , .. ....MViivu lime.-! l?n III.1IIV Cliy 154 borers as are actually engaged iu their belialf. But there is an immense number of men anil women, native born, of l'rotes taut descent, who Lave no religion at all. They abound in city and country. Some of them profess to bo Universalists, or have some other form of organized unbelief by courtesy styled Christian ; but most of thein neither hear nor read, neither think nor care for any thing religious. Add to these the number in habitual at tendance on our places of worship who 1 give to religion only a cold and distant respect, and the aggregate becomes learful. We are afraid that it is a pbenotnej non less regarded by Christians than it deserves. For the sake of these itre'igious people themselves, for the salvation of ' their souls, there ii need and abundant I reason for most fervent prayer and earnest labor. And for the sake also of the | class first referred to? the foreigners, who ; are slaves to Roinanism, or avowed ene I mies of the Clm-linn religion?it is needj ful that the gospel should have more complete and ell'eclunl diffusion upon j those to whom it wag 'first preached.' l We would not underra'e the success | that has been trained in winning any ' elans of men to the u*uO??!iip of Uhii.st. j ltut there are multitudes who no colporteur reaches, and alas ! the Christians ' around scarcely try to reach them.? i 'There is no doing any thing with these I Irish,' uiev say. and yet they send men | to India to preach to victims of snpersti I lion there. And they are partly right. I The influence of one or two warm hearted Christians, whether neighbors or colpor I teurs, is greatlv neutralized l?y the daily contact of 'these Irish' so many godless ' persons who are indiscriminately reckon ed hy them as 1'rolestauU. Were the ; business men, the manufacturers, the nt?I chanics, the farmers, the housekeepers, 1 with whom the victims of priestly delu I sion come in contact, fervent and evein I plary Christian?men who could hrinj j the gospel to them not only on purpose j and oflicially, l-ut freelv and spontaneous ! ly in their ordinary conversation, and hi j iheir daily influence?is it likely that si i many wo?il<! continue far removed Iron sympathy with evangelical religion ! A higher importance must attach If 'the efficiency of the local church, as h ! light to the community in which it oxists. j Let the mass of mere hearers within out j sanctuaries, and of non hearers around j them, be brought bv the grace of Clod *.?' j the actual experience of religion, ami wc , might hope that those who are captivated ! by 'another gospel which is not another, would he more numerously and more speedily gathered into the Saviour's fold ?New York A'xaminer. "Look Well to Your Faith." lie that lias the faith of Christ has all; i lie that wants it has nothing. Well might our Lord say, 'This is the work of (tod, ' thai ye believe on linn whom lie hatli sent.' U secures the heart lor god through Jesus Christ, and that secures the whole man ; ail Ins thoughts, all his words and 1 actions; forming the whole of his conduct | for life upon a perfect, a most infallible I pattern. 'Ibis, then, is the direction everj I Christian tuust mind, if ever he would ) thrive*. Look well to your faith. As thai I is weak or strong, languishing or living ! ....it .1.- /ii I -V.V.. ??u me "iii'ib vyiirisuaii name l>e And, therefore : Beware of starving your faith by neg lecting to lay in proper provision. Kaitl I comes by hearing, and bearing the wort I of God. That is the only sustenance foi i faith ; and what the word holds forth, am l and conveys through faith into the heart i viz., the grace of God in Gl.rist, is iht I only support of the soul, 'Wherefore, ai new-born babes, desire the sincere mid ! of the word, that ye may grow therebv. I 'And let the word of Christ dwell in yot nch!y, in all knowledge and spiritual un demanding.1 It is the Spirit of Christ indeed, which alone can kindle and main i tain this divine dame; but it is the Chris 1 lian'a business to lay the fuel read v. i Beware of poisoning your faith. Ant! j this may be done either by perverse prin j ciples or practices. Both comr.ionly gt i tog ther, and mutually contribute sup ; port to each other. The milk of the word j must he sincere, or without mixture givei : it a poisonous quality. And as with Chris we can do nothing, so in the samedegret 1 that anything else is trusted to, 60 far otu ; nrvngui !ft lost. Beware of epoiliup yOnr faith by suf j fbfin/f it u> lie idle. Exercise is ah neces I sary in the spiritual life as in the natural I By faith tlia Christian lives, and of coursi he only lives so far as faith is kept in con ; stent exercise. Just so much activity am ] exercise an there is, so much is there o faith ; and whenever it ceases to not, tin Christian ceases to live. The seed of lift inav l>e in him ; bnt life lies in living, oi in the exercise of life. At the same time we inii -t beware of attempting to live ' that is, to exercise faith, or any olhe 1 grace, hut by strength derived from th Spirit of life.?Jiisalloun. Iqrirttlttmtl. From the Southern Homestead. | What Constitutes A Good Farmer ir. i). uarraon thus asks and answers , this important question, in a late number , of tbe Cotton l'ianler: I If the Disposer of human events should j permit this world to stand a thousand j years longer, the time will surely come j when every man who tills the earth will be compelled to be a good farmer or starve to death. This is a strong expression, but as true as it is strong. Old fogyism j may continue to denounce those who la- j bor to improve thy agriculture of the i South ; but tbe time will come when their I posterity will see their folly, and be forced j to improve tbe soil which their ancestors I butchered. The day has already come with Knglaud, Frence, Germany and Ire | land, win re agriculturists aie compelled from true necessity, to study their profe*- ! sion, and improve their systems of farming economy, to an extent limited only I bv their power to do so. If they were to | pursue the course that the planters cf the South are now pursuing, in less than J ' twenty years they would either staive to ' death or be forced '.o leave 'their own, 1 their native land.' Hut the question arises, what is a'good i C ^ fl*i - ? - nuiiier: i uere is inucii diversity Ot opill- t I ion on this question. Sometimes the men I wlio run over the most land, per hand, j and drag out of the soil the most money, I i regardless of the wear and tear of land, ami team and force, are called good lar. j j mem, yen, the heat farmers Hut is that I true t I admit it not. To do 60 would | 1 he equivalent to admitting tliat the doctor ' j who made the most nienev, regardless of | j the lives he destroyed, was the best doc! tor. The one would be about as true as j ! the other?both are utterly false. A 'good farmer,' according to the best I ! and most intelligent agriculturists of the J { South, is the man who improves hie land | i and the appearance of his place ? improves I I his stock and takes care of his force. And I I think this difinitioti of the term is cor j i i . rect. j No man, however intelligent on other j Uphjfeets?no matter how much money he may be making for the time being, should j l?e considered a 'good fanner,' in the strictest sense of that term, who grossly neglects the improvement of bis soil, and force, and slock. No man who cultivates the hills, and permits his fields to wash | into yawning gullies, and turns them out | for his children to reclaim, at the cost of ' much labor ami expense, or leave their ' old homes, or starve, is, to any extent , whatever, a trood farmer. A man who denounces agricultural improvement, ami agricultural journals, totes corn in one end of liis sack, and a rock in the otlier end to balance it, because his 'daddy' done it cannot possibly be a 'good farmer. Fodder Palling?Important! The following letter from Mr. Geo. Sea- 1 i born, well known as the late, experienced | editor of the Farmer and Planter, seems j | to possess much of interest to the plantj ing community. Facts are stubborn 1 things, and the result of experiments as ) detailed below present considerations wor- | j thy of notice. Mh. FIditor :?I promised you a state i ment of the result of an experiment made , to ascertain what loss corn would sustain ! from being deprived of its blades at the j l usual time of taking fodder ; and, also, i | ; whether cutting the corn at the roots, af; ler the blades become dry to the ear, , would lessen the product. | j ' Twelve short rows, as near equal in up- j j pearance as could be found in tlie. field, I were set apart lor the experiment. Of ] j the twelve rows, No. 1, 4, 7 and 10 were i left with the hladee on until they were t generally dry to the ear, and on some stalks even to the top, then out up at the ' roots and 'shocked' on the field until the other corn was leathered, thcr haub?l in and shucked from the stalk. No, 2, 5, 8 ( j and eleven were left with the blades on : I 1 and No 3, 0, 9 and 12 were stripped off r I their blade* as late as is usual with us.? I I Now for the result : j No. 1, 4, 7 and 10, when shelled, moas\ | ured four pecks, one gallon, two quarts ; and one pint, and weighed seventy and a . half lbs. ? j No. 2, 5, 8 and 11, measured four ( I pecks, one gallon, two quarts, and one I and a half pints, and weighed seventy I one and a half lbs. ' No. 3, 0, 9 and 12, measured four pecks, half pint, and weighed fifty five lbs. I , The fodder that was taken from the , last numbers was carefully cured and t I kept to itself,and weighed eighteen pounds ' which, added to the corn from which it I was taken amounted to *eventy-three . pounds, but one and a half pounds more than the corn alone from which no blades , were taken, and two and a half o cm ml a r more thau that cut up ?t tlie roots. Tins experiment proves conclusively to iny mind, what 1 long since believed, thai by pulling fodder we deprive the corn of the weight, or very nearly so of the f>dder j when cured. And furthermore, that we would be belter employed in making hay I than in making fodder from our corn. 1 f neglected to mention it jts proper place t that the eorn was all well and equally dried before being measured and weighed. r GEO. SEA HORN. 9 i, j Wat.nit Puff*.?Two tablespoonfule r of flour, two ounces melted butler, two e ouncea sugar, two ounce* hickory nuts beaten fine. Bake in cup* well buttered. Iniiimrauo. 'Why don't yon ask \our sweetheart to inarrv you?' 'I have asked her.'? 'What did she shv !' 'O, I've the refusal of her.' Mr. John Jack, a Kentucky editor, says that one day his iral slateim! ! > C7 l | ...... ... HIV luce, avering, l>y way of apology, that she was fond of slapjacks. Why is tho mischievous boy who attaches a tin lantern to the caudle appendage of his dog. like the poet's hero ?? Because he 'Points a moral, and adorns a tail.' 'Why, doctor, said a lady,' you talk as though a horse were better than a mar.!' 'lie is,' replied the doctor, 'he never deceives a lady?his tongue is bridled? and he hates hoops.' 'Tom, why did you not marry Lucy 1 'Oh, she had a sort of hesitation in her speech, and I left her.' 'A hesitation in Iter speech ! I never heard of that before are you not mistaken i1 No, not at all ; for when I asked her if she would have me, she hesitated to say yes, and?so I cut her for another girl.' Tiik Use or Large Words.?Big words pass for sense with some people, and sometimes may be very successful employed when nothing else will Hnswer. As when a man in great alarm ran to his minister to tell liiin he could see spots on the sun, and thought the world mus.be corning to an end. O, don't he afraid,' said Ihe clerical gentleman, 'it's nothing but a phantasmagoria.' .i .> _?i ?> ?-i i ,1.. r_:_i., i ??? Ad tlini <%ii t rt!ii\gu itic ii i^iugitwvj and went away quite relieved. A very Bbarp lawyer in Washington, N. C., had the misfortune to lose a suit for a client, who had every reason to expect success. The client, who was a plain old farmer, and unacquainted with the duplicity of mankind, was astounded by the long hill of cost, and, hastening to the lawyer's otlice, said : 'I thought yoti told me we should certainly gam that suit}' 'So I did,' answered the lawyer, 4but you see when 1 brought it up there before I tbe Judges, iliey said it was quorum non Ijndice.' Well, if they said it was as bad as that,' said the farmer, 'I don't wonder we lost,' ' an,I no?t .?.? ? ' ( ....? |.nlu i no inn nnu lee. Agreeing with IIku?A clergyman, | who whs a Lit of humorist, one? took tea l with a la<ly of his pansn, who prided her self much upon her nice bread, and was I also addicted to the common tri'-k of depreciating her viands to Iter guests. As she passed the nice w arm biscuit to the reverend gentleman, she said : ? 'They nre not very good; 1 am almost ashamed to ofler them.' The minister took one. looking at it rather dubiously, and replied :? 'They are not so good as the) might be!' The plate was in?tamli w ithdraw n, and with heightened c<?r ilio J uly exclaimed :? 'They are good enough for you !' Nothing further was said about thedis* cuit. A Mississippian was bragging to a Yankee of ilia fertility of tbe soil of Ins region. To give a practical illustration I of his subject lie said be went to tbe woods to cut an oak tree. After he had I chopped for about a week or ten da\s, he | thought he would take a walk round the j tree to see how much more he had to cut , when he got to the other side, lie saw i arinllipr man nlintn.!" v.u int; hhiiih OHK, j 'I 8?v,' say* our friend, 'how long have I you been cutting ?' 'Just three weeks,' says lite stranger. The tree was ho hig that they did not hear trie Hound of each other's axes. j A Luton Fish.?Old Joe Phillip* was an awful story teller. When a stranger j came to !iis tavern, if ho appeared at a!! , credulous, old Joe would tell a long yarn to his ullage acquaintance, hut talk at stranger. A short time since a stranger came into his har-rooro, with rod, line and other fishing paraphernalia, when Joe seized a friend and started him hv the ' question : 'Did you hear about that hig fish Col. Potter caught in the river ?' The stranger pricked up hi* ears. Joe and his friend, talked on after lira at vie; 'No,' said the fiiead, in answer to Joe'a question. 'Uiggest sturgeon that ever was caught I anv where.' Vis.. -T ' I ? \/u WVII % BrtV . ' 'Ym, when I came away he hadn't ' caught all of hitr, although h" h id about i six feet of him ashore.' 'Gracious 1 haw much did it weighf* 'Three hundred pounda; and be mad? nine barrel* of oil.' 'Nine barrels of oil !' inquiring the stranger, advancing, 'did )0U say nine barrels 1' 'Yes,' said Joe, fiercely, 'I said nina barrels. Is that anything strange, air V On, no, beg paidon,' said stranger, musingly : 'only I wan thinking it m littU singular that you could extract twenty%eren hundred pounds of oil from threa hundred pounds of fish !* and. j ltia finhing utensil*, lie left : Jeetn-4'- k , iM s?>*' :'*