Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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?he Cancastcr Ccbgcr. I $2 PER ANNUM m, '.?..1IN ADVANCE I J iniuilg aaft ^ulititol iJrmspoptc?Ptaoiti) !n Hit ilrta, aritarts, lilttotntt, ifiiutntiau, Agrirulturr, 3nttnml Sutpraotmrat!, ,#orngu anil rniurstit jtJrws, oni tlit JUarkrts. I VOLUME VIII. LANCASTER C. H, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPT., M, 18>9. N || j| |{ I ? - ? !^flert |Viptrij. !' I wish 1 was an Editor. | I wish was an editor? | I really do indeed ; It >eenis to am that editors Get everything they need. They get the biggest and the best Of everything that grows, .And get in tree to circuses AnH nflinr l/inti of slioWH ! - ' I And when n mammoth cheoHe is cat, | ? They always get a slice, For saying Mrs. Smith knows how i < To make it very nice. Tlte largest pumpkin, longest beet, I And other garden stuff, Is blown Into the sanctum by An editorial puff. The biggest bug will speak to tliem, j No matter bow they dress? A shabby coat is nothing?if You own a printing press. At Ladles' Fairs they're almost hugged ; . By pretty girls, you know, That they may crack up everything ' The ladies have to show. And thus they get a blow-out free At every party feed ? The reason is?bicuise tliey write. And other people read. Nf.1i. <?>euwn mn\. Wilting Composition. 'Katlier.' hhnl K , 'my lonelier any* thai j | nil iIk? in niv rl iniiHi wri'e >? mtv ' position, and ti^net n io iii'ii by iivxi i>.?l I | unlay noon. WIihI hIihII I do? I rant ' tliink of a Miig'e tiling to wiite about. 1 wiili yon would tell mo what to write.' j ' 'It will mi 1vniij i*<miiiiwi.i. 111 mi son. if ! tell you what to write.' 'Hut w hat dial I -I", father ? 1 :?11? ' sure I Cannot write one.' i ( 'I.hi it lev* for tne present. I want you I to tell me, now, ?buui youi t isit to vour ' ( uncle Heart's. i have not had leisure | to ask you any tiling; about it since your { return.' | 'I lih<) a very plensntit visit, fallior. In ( the morning c >tisin William took me over i t to Mr. (invn'ii garden to see but lu'tip beds Tliey were beautiful. I never saw Hueh a variety of colors. 'Mr. (r fee It seemed pleased to see that I admired (loon so much, and asked me j il I had anv thrweisnt home. 1 told turn ! I li ad a small bed. lie said lie would | joxe lite sC lie lin'hs. ill the f .11. a* d if I set ilieill out, and take good care of tliein , I slum' I have Iii'm" of i"t own in the ' spring. , 1 thought be was very kind,! thanked i bill) and told him I should be very clad i fo have some tulips in mv tied Atlor we returned fruit Mi 1* V 1 look ed over cousin William's books till dinner J i time. After dinner I walked in the jy-tr ' den with aunt Mary, and Lucy, him! WiI 'Lucy showed Hit! Iter bed,in which wete i beant-hil hearts ease, a story about which shu h mI seen in the Child's l*ii|? i nod slut would tell me all she could re- | i in ml ef lit it. 'It said: A great king had a beautiful garden, tilled with all kinds of trees, I fruits, and flowers. One day '.lie garden I er came to him, and told him that the trees and (lowers wete all dying 'The king went out to see what wss the eaiise First he went to a grand ?>! oak tree, of which lie was very proud, and said, 'Why, oak, what is the matter j with you ?' 'And lite oak said, 'I douT think I am of hiiv use I can't bear either ft nit or ' i (lowers, and only lake up room. If I was otdy a rosebush, I could bear sweet flow : i.re ' Ar i f ! u uj o ??-- ,-'w* ... .. . ...... .. ,-T.n.v.. v.. ?rr, ..r veil h grape'vine, I could give yon fruit.' 11 'Then lie went to l.it| favorite rosebud., i end tbnt said, 'I mn of no use, because I I cannot bear trail. And the gripe vine < complained that It whs a poor weak ere* i tare,und could not be*r up it* own weight but mum ciiflg to ? it ma Of f>Ght. I 'As the king feeling very sad to see the garden in Mjeh h condition, lie i suddenly spied h little ilewrt* ease with < iu face turned up to hiin, looking a* bright and smiling as po?sd?l?\ He asked j the hearts ease how it came to l?e so I blooming, when everything around it whs i willing away. , I 'Why,' said the hearts ease, *J thought I < you wanted ine here. If you had wnn i ted an oak, you would Imve planted an i acrorn; if \ou had wanted roses von i would hare net out A ro*o huali, arid if < you wanted grape*, you would have put I out a grape vine, Bui I know that what < you wanted of me wan to l>? a henrta eaae I and ?o I thought I would try and lie the I verf l>ent little hearta eaae that ever I i can.' ' ( 'I liked theaiory very much and thoght i to inyaelt, if I am otdy a l>oy, 1 will try i 1 to t>e the very heal aon and brother 'that i ever I ran' I Wbefi we come into the honae, Utile t I Edward wanted me to p ay horae with < i lum. i 'I wae jn*t going to tell him that I did ' not wi*h to play, when I though* of the heart* .are Mud aaul to tmaelf, I will try ? to lie the kindest rr.uain to little Edward t 'that ever I ean.* '? 'Juat before [ started for home, Edward i come and Hhuhed upon my trnwea*, avid I I coking into my fa-^ with hh bright, f? - *. r IMi l! I black eyes, and said, 'ilenrv will coine again suoii won't lie?' 'I fell ibat I bad tried to be a good | cousin to biin. Undo Henry brought me homo in Ins buggy, and so ended a pleasant visit with a pleasant ride.' In a little while afier Henry had fin. iahed Ins story, hi? father said to liirn, 'I bave a composition here, for you to carry to your teacher next Saturday.' Henry looked surprised and asked what it was. 'Shall I read it to you ?' said the father. 'If you please father.' Ul/ll.o.. ? ...I r - I r -- I 1 ?v IIIVH vnv. iiuill <% jiit'H'f II 1(11 [lie story of Henry's visit to his uncle's just hs lie Inul related it. 'Why, father, you don't call that a composition.' 'Certainly I do, and a very good one for a hov of v<iur years.' 'Hut 1 should not think of writing a composition in that wav, just as I would 1 talk.' 'Why not ? Can you tell me what is [lie difference between composition and i conversation ?' 'Not exactly.' Well, it is this : In composing you \ ipeak your thoughts, in composing you write them. I>i<l you think it any hard , ship to sit down and tell one ahout your i visit V 'No father. It was no hardship at all but a pleasure.' Mf I had requested you to write me an i eotml of it, would y ou have found this j as easy ?' 'No father, I think not.' 'This is because you are not ir. tbe habit of writing them. We cannot do mvtning with case, which we arc nut in the Iih1.ii of doing. Your teacher requires you to wriucompositions because lie wishes you to r??r111 tin* habit of wtiiirg your thnuhts.? You "ill ofteti Jind it very convenient t>> be able to write, as well an speak your though'*. Practice will make it easy tor ) uu to Jo this. . 'The next time you have a composition to ?r:l<* it*member it is only thinking, 01 pxpresdng your thoughts on paper. This i would have been strictly your coinposi lion, and a very good one, if you had , written down your thoughts instead ol my loing it for you.' 'I believe I had a wrong idea about | writing composition's,' said Henry. '1 , [li nk I shall not dread it quite so much again. I have a good many times thought | nhi ut. <1 i|VereOl things, and I think I can j manage to write si me of them a>n paper1 Front the Home Magazine. Words from my Chimney Corner. 1 )k a it Ladies :?I put on in v snecta !< * tins morning, ami tiunks I, tins is a I'll world after all ; there's no mis lake altoul it, say what tiiev will. Now, I Int.. (.Hil mv ups am! down*, and have j ?ff11 .i?rk days, an'l sometime*. when tlie tun shone brightest, mv heart was lieavi I est ; but living does teach some folks a great deal, ami I have been learning so tone, that I have really picked up a good J deal that I know the value of myself, let j other people think what thoy will. Now, I say, there's a sweet, cheerful f re the other side ol the street, and I know, as well as can he, that site makes 1 her hap'.iness, not out of riches, nor f.tsh mi , nor idle habits, but ?iut of little tilings that money cannot buy. The sunbeams, the flowers, the loto of friends, the kmd acts of her own bands, these tilings are her life. T see another pale,cross looking woman just passing her. "Life's sweet i f*ll II ft I ? illUl f lo.ur 1 ' . r\ \f iLI...?n 1 I k .?! .ut, never melted the ice round her heart. I ditti'i care f??r her money, nor Iter stylish friends. 1 really do pity the i poor creature, for she has not begun to live. It is really funny to si* down with your knitting work, and see how the world goes. Now, when i married Johnny, I had no idea ot becoming an authoress, and writing for the public, to go down to future generations, any more than Sam VVelhercock had ; but when a body baa good ideas in It is head, it can't do an v harm just to publish them. Folks may rend them, or if they don't it is none of our fault ; it helps the printers, keeping litem for awhile out of temptMlion. Now, dear ladies, pray do excuse inv ?udden stops and changes of subject, for J'oll lias just screamed from the kitchen stairs that the precious milk for our pud iling was boiling over, while I was writing I he last words ; as we have to buy all our mtlk, and liavn several folks in our fiiiniiv, this was an unhappy accident ; accident I should hkn to say, for such things often happen when the cook is up ?lairs ; hut my spectacle* tell tne thai, in kucIi cases, there really is no such thing ss an accident, and so I am obliged to >av thai ill management is at the bottom r?f it. No great harm is done, however, liV a mistake tliatle "lice in awhile, if we only grow wiser, which I modestly study lo do, by ali that happens to me. Bv the way, this circumstance about the milk is quite to niv purpose, as it reminds me of dial good old saying, "!> ? not pry for 'pilled milk." It ? of no sort of use to worry and spnld after m tiling is done, and | 10 darken Ide, and get ugly wrinkle* anj ' Irownaon your faco, especially before the lime. A bright fare makes bright weath ir within doors, and ibis I hold to be e* tential to enjoying (rod's sunshine from sitliout. Now, Mothers, I will bring up the mein iiihjeei of my letter, for, notwithrtanding hai S?m Wetherrork says I ain rather irattering. ?ml want unity of design, (ha urn sparurn fellow as he is hintwelf) no." >ody expect* much of me, and that is a *ai comfort. 1 aavr ladies, f will bring *,;*! west ? Up the 111 At II subject, EDUCATION. How few persons bring up their children sitnpi 1 y, naturally, rationally, to live here and hereafter, too! lUess me, I know you will say ; we send our children to school; they learn Latin, and French, anu music; they sing, and write, and s'udy from morning ttll night. Just what the) should not do ! I venture they cannot darn a stocking, nor tuake a pudding, nor knit a stitch?except for fancy work?nor iron, nor sweep, half of them. An old man said to a widowed mother about her voting son, Met hiin glow in all directions especially cultivate in your children a spirit of contentment with little, simple things?little inexpensive modes of happiness. I love to see children read Natu ral History, and ahaul things as they are. Give them inuch fiction to feed upon,and they will he looking for the "yellow lite ralure," next, as Sam W'ethercock calls those loose, unprincipled stories, (I sup rose he has heard somebody call them K<>) which are thrown all about in their wav. Our Poll has some principle. Hear ing that this kind of hook is objections hie, and being above making distinctions, she clapped one of my great grandfather's centennial discourses into the cooking stove, because the covers looked yellow with lying away. That was an uninten' tional abuse of power ; hut though I mourned over the mistake, 1 wished most fictions were at Poll's discretion. Let us each see if we for one cannot bring tip onr little ones on the sttiff that makes them surest o* happiness, and we shall see, perhaps, in Heaven, that we have done some good in the world. Your true well wisher, and friend in need. IIannaii Spkctaci.kr. 1'oSTOFKICK CoNTKIUrilONS |l<> 11IF. Washing ion Nationai. Mom mknt.? I lie plan lor raising funds to complete the Washington Monument, through the agency of postmasters, seems likely to prove successful. Ahout four thousand circulars, we ate informed, were sent out Ust month l?y Lieutenant Ives,but it was scarcely expected that anv returns would be received before the 1*1 of October.? They have, however, already commenced to come in fioiu different parts of the country. August was a broken month, and ilie cost of putting up boxes had to bo deducted from the amounts contributed, but the average receipts are highly encouraging. The smallest amount that has been sent is 25 cents, and the largest *lb. the Infer from the cut of Wheeling, Virginia. \\ lien it is recollected that lint former sum, insignificant as it appears, is mail) double what would he required from each place, monthly, to complete the monument in a few t ears, the entire pram ticalnllty of the project will appear. ft only teqiiires the universal co operation of postmasters to ensure it* tii<- ..?* un,l thin far nil that lime been heard from have primmed a cordial cooperation to the enterprise. Now York citv, dhnrles ton, J'rovidence, R. I , and the little town of i'utnam, in Ohio, have each sent irto?e than $10. These four returns would make n]> the average for about 25<? towns that iui|{ht contribute nothing at all. Two or three months will lie required to fairly test the project, but there is little doubt that it must ultimately succeed. The letters enclosing the remittances are kept oil tile among the records of the Monument Society, it is intended, at stated intervals to publish complete lists of the amounts received and the places where they were contributed.? Washington Star. li KM A UK A Itl.K i'l.ACK KOU I'ARTI'KITION. ?At mii early liour on Wednesday morn lug, says 11ui Baltimore Sun, a female re Milling at Canton, near the limine over the noutli of Harris' Creek, started for the house of her mother, hut when she reached Cambridge street, she was taken suddenly ill, and was obliged to stop hv the wayside. While there she gave birth to an infant, which she carefully wrapped in her clothing to protect it from the eold. After having remained there for nearly an hour, Mr. Thomas Spencer passed on a gunning excursion, anil discovered her helpless condition, lie made application to a party living near by to give the woman shelter, hut it was refused, when lie placed her with her infant in his huggy, and removed her to her house. Her lius baud had gone io market before she was taken iil, and being alone she undertook to reacli the home or her parents. The boy?for it is a boy ? was to the manor born, ami bis first cradle was a granite hillside, with the arched heavens for a .1?i-~-r -- .? i? - ? uni.o..., urnni 111 innenM uy uie iinineAs uf the rising sun. Mr. J. It. Aimstrong, of tins District, l>** invented a machine for measuring distances, which promises to he very use' fill. It is attached to a buggy or car nnge wheel, and so arranged as to strike at every mile. A person may travel where there are no mile posts, and at the end of the journey, by this simple machine he is enabled to tell the exsct number of miles he has tiaveled. Mr. Armstrong thinks lie can furnish them at about eight dollars. They are laid to be very correct and will no doubt find ready sale.? Rarnwell Sentinel. Painful Act iokni.? We regret to IfiArn that Mr. Joseph K. Nettles was thrown from his horse on Friday last, between Camden and Cool Spring, and had his leg broken just above his ankle.?*? We are glad to learn, however, that although a painful fracture he is doing as well as could b? expected, and with usual care will likely soon recover.? Camden Journal. Evening Before A Wedding. i 'I will tell you,' continued In-r aunt to Louis, 'two things which I have fully proved. The first will go far towards preventing the possibility of ar.y discord af j ter matriago ; the second is the best and | surest preservative of feminine character.' | 'Tell me,' said Louisa, anxiously. | 'The first is this?to demand of your f 1 bridegroom, as soon as the marriage cere* < rnony is over, a solemn vow, and promise | ! yourself, never, even in jest, to dispute or ( express any disagreement-1 tell you never, | | ?for what begins in mere bantering, will | | j lead to serious earnest. Avoid expressing | | mi} irritation ai duo another s words. Mu , tual forbearance is the one gioat secret of | domestic happiness. If you have erred, ( confess it freely, even if the confession i : costs y?m some tears. Further, promise faithfully and solemnly never, upon any | pretext or excuse, to havo any secrets or i concealments from each other, but to keep your private atfairs from father, , mother, sister, brother, relations, and the 1 ! world. Let tliem he known only to each j ! other and your <Jod. Remember that any third person admitted into your confidence, 1 becomes a party to stand between you, i I and will naturally stand f.'r one or the i J other. Promise to avoid this, and renew I I the vow upon every temptation. It will J preserve that perfect confidence, that union which will indeed make you one. I < >, if the newly married would practice ! this spring of connubial peace, how many ' | unions would l>o happy which ate uow miserable.? Knickfrltocker. PxroNscioes Iski.L'knok.?The very I handling of the nursery is significant, and : the petulance, the passion, the gentleness. , the tranquility indicated by it, are all reproduced in the child. His soul is a pure. Iv receptive nature, and that for a eonsid! erablo period, without choice or selection. 1 A little further on lie begins voluntarily | 1 to copy every thing lie sees. Voice, man- | i ner, gait?everything which the e\e sees ?tlio mimic instinct delights to net over, j A ml thus we have a whole generation of ftiltue beings, ami the deepest impulses j of their lite and immortality. They watch i , us every moment?in the family, before I . the hearth, and at the table ; and when i we are meaning them no good or evil, j when we are not conscious of exerting I | any influence over them, they are draw- j itig fiom us impressions and molds of I hal.it, which, it wrong, no heavenly discip ; | line'ean windy remove ; or, if right, no kind ot association utterly dissipate.? j Now it may be doubted, I think, wheth- ] er. in all the active influences of our lives, j we do as much to shape the destiny of our fellow men as we do in this single ar- j j tide of unconscious influence over chil- 1 ; dren. j . ToKNAito.?On Friday last, we learn (list, a terrible wind passed over the conn* try west <>f the NVateree l'.iver in a northeasterly direction, carrying in its way trees, leiic. s and houses. (hi the plantation of Mr. Benjamin Fekkins, about three miles Mum ii>nii, *m or seven nouses were mown | down and scattered in every direction, in| eluding the Overseer's house, negro cab : ; ins, barns, ticc, Kvery building on the j plant ition was more or le*s injured : the Gin house had its top removed, and the I Fodder house were blown down or unroof- j ed, and the fodder lifted out and carried < fl" in every direction by the whirlwind.? | Fortunately, there was no lives lost, but the (lainago to fences and property has been very considerable. Since the ab -ve was written, we learn j that there is a considerable freshet in our I River, which has overflowed its hanks I and the low lands are submerged. The water is too high in Fine tree creek, to j allow crossing at the bridge on the ('liar leston Road. We are afraid the desiruc- j tion of crops will be immense. Corn just ready to he gathered will be ruined.? Caytuien Journal. I Tiik Aurora Rorrai.i* is England.- | Early this morning, between twelve and one, a in out brilliant display of the above phenomenon was oWtveil, extending from tlie western hemisphere to the north- j , *e<t, north and northeast, and reaching j to the zenith. The appearance in the west was that of a large tire, but in the ' north and northeast it was of a violet cob ' ' or, and flashes of light of the same color darted along the heavens with great bril j I liaucy. This beautiful display lasted for 1 about an hour, and then gradually died away, leaving a serene ami unclouded autumnal skv. ? iAjndon Jtoilif News, All , 'just '^9. j Tiik Urat or tiik Stabs.? l)r. Lard-! ner says : 'It is a startling fact, that if the earth were dependent alone upon the siiii for heat, it would not get enough to make the existence of animal and vegeta ble life upon its surface. It results from the reseache* of Pouillet, that the stars furnish heat enou gh in the course of a year to melt a crust of ice 75 feet thick ?almost as much as is supplied by the sun. This inay appear strange when we consider how immeasurably small must oe me amount ol heal received from any one of lliex* distant bodies. Hut tlie aur prise vanishes when we remember that the whole firmament is so thickly town with atars, that in some places thousand* are crowded together within a apace .10 greater than that occupied by the full moon.' When oxen refuse *to work equally aa well on either aide, or when they pull ofif aga<nst each other, yoke thein on the aide you wiah them to work, and turn them out to feed in that way; they aoon become accustomed to it, and wdrk after- 1 ward on either aide, ! i - . ; t * * ^uiidiuj lliMiiiittg, j Atheism. Atheism (says Mr. Giles,) is the most terrible of all professions ; if we could be lieve a man to be in this state, not in bis j speculations, but also in his feelings, we I ihould regard bim with the most sorrow j ful wonder. If such a man there is, liis j spirit dwells in darkness ; futurity is to | liim an eternal sleep, an eternal night; to j him the universe is a ded and dumb con ' giomerauon 01 lorms without souls, anil of sounds without import. The sun is day after day iu the heavens, tho stars nigh' j aftef night in the sky ; but to him d?^ unto day uttereth no speech, niglil unto night showeth no knowledge. Flowers bloom and fade, but he Rees , no meaning in the change; ocean >oi?s its mighty waves with the haavens betiding over it in glory ; he hears no voice of al ' mighty power with which 'deep calleth unto deep.' The year revives ; spring clothes the fields in green ; the genial sun melts the snow from the valleys; verdure covers the earth, and joy sweetens the heart of all that lives'. Autumn comes, painting the leaves with various hues ; gentle airs begin to murmur in the woods, that sound sweetly on the ear, with a thoughtful and solemn music. Winter enters last ; tho sky darkens-, tho wind is chilled, the beasts of tho field all come lor i shelter to the abode of man ; the tempest j gathers itself, beats the mount, and rools down its deluge into the valleys ; inmates dwell safely in the house, and comfort glows apace on the hearth. Amidst ail \ these affect phenomena, tho atheist ack nowledges no God, and thanks no Father. ! Amid the affairs of nations, constitu img ine drama oi destiny and lime, in all their mysterious succession of causes and of consequences, the atlieist discerns no soverign intellect, no guiding 1'rovidence tliis would surely l>e appalling if we were not fully persuaded tliat all sucli pbylosopliy must meet its denial ami its counteraction in lint experience of the liu. man soul. Such atheism makes a man acknowledge no rule, but that of expedi ency, no standard hut that of matetial ism What Did the Ci.ock Sav ??The clock upon the tower of a neighboring church tolled forth slowly and solemnly the knell of the departed hour. As the last sound died away, Willie, who was sitting on the carpet at his moth er's feet, lifted his head, and lo iking ear neatly in her face asked ? 'Mother, what did the clock say ?' To nie, said his mother,sadly'it seemed to say, gone?gone?gone?gone V 'What, mother, what has gone !' 'Another hour, mv son.' What is an hour, mother ?' A white winged messenger from our Father in Heaven, sent by Him to inquiie of you, of me what we are doing ; what we are saying; what we are thinking and feeling.' 'Where is it gone, mother !' 'Back to Him who sent it, bearing on its wings, that were so pure and white when it came, a record of all our thoughts, words, and deeds, when it was with us.' Were they all such as our Father could receive w ith a smile of approbation? Header, what record are the hours, as they come and go, bearing up on high for you ? Tiir Jews is Amkiuca.?From a lecture delivered by l>r. Mvjrris J. Franklin, in Providence, recently and reported in the Providence Evtniny Press, wo gather some facts in relation to the Jews in the United Mates. The Jews in this country, the speaker said, now number about 200,000 In New York city alone there are 40,000. The attention of the Jews in Ktirope is turned towards America, on ac count of the persecution to which they are subjected in some countries on the continent, and a rapid increase of their numbers here may be expected by emigration. Many Jews in this country are occupying prominent ami influential positions in politics and business. Messrs. Yulee and Benjamin, of the U. S Senate, and Messrs. Zollicoffer, Oliver, Phillips, and Hart, of the National House of Representatives, are numbered among the children of Abraham. Instead of road-ng the Scriptures in the Hebrew tongue, un derstood only as the Rahbi interprets it, may now use the English version. This class have introduced many reforms into their mode of worship?they now have their choirs, their organs, and their Rah hath Schools. The Hebrew Christians, the converted Jews, in this country, num her three or four hundred, and of this number nearly one hundred are engaged in Dreach'mi? the (Tosnel of Clirisiianiir , n >.1 f or in a course of study preparatory to doing so. Nothing Lost by Giving.?I have been young and now I am old, and aa I stand before God to night, I declare that nothing 1 have ever given in charity is re gretted. Oh no ! It is the riches we keep that perish, that which we give away that abides with us forever ; it impresses itself on our characters, ana tells on our eternal destiny, for the habit of charity, formed in this life, will accompany us in the next. The bud which begins to open here will blossom in full expansion hereafter, to delight the eye of angels hi d beautify the paradise of God. Let us, then, now, and on every occasion bereaf ter, practice that liberality which in death we shal! approve, and reprobate the par. irnony which we shall then condemn ? Dr. Molt. luririilturnl. From the Farmer mid Planter. We Plant too Much Mil. Editoii :?Inasmuch as you have solicited communications from your sub scribers on the subjects of agriculture, Arc., I propose to write a short article on the subject of plan tiny too much ; though 1 shall not promise you that it will bo inter esting to yourself or to your numerous i readers ; however, such as it is, it is freely at your service. I am of the opinion, sir, that farmers, generally, are in the habit ot planting too much. I feel thoroughly sa.tisti?siJ, from what little experience I have had in farming, that if we would plant less ground, and cultivate it better, that wo would re alize a much greater yield or reward for our labors ; and, as a matter of course, ' when we labor we expect to be rewarded j for our labor. In my humble opinion, i the better we perforin our labor, the better will we be rewarded for that la! or.? No one will deny that a jolt of work well ' done is worth more than one that is bad Iv done ; therefore, if we expect to re. ceivo good wages for any piece ot work, let us perform that work well, and make , a good job of it. It is just as easy to do I a tiling right as to do it wrong, even if it 1 should reipjire a little more lime, and ! then the pay is so much better. I do not mean to argue though, in regard to 1 farming, that it requires any more time ^ to cultivate a farm well, than it does to i cultivate it badly ; but, on the contrary, that it requires less. My idea, or doctiine, | is this : that we should plant less and cultivate better. Then, instead of hav I ing a large nod very extensive area of soil to go over, every time that we work I our ciops. we would have our farms condensed. and consequently less time would | be required to work them, and we would 1 also be enabled to do our work better, from the fact that wo would not be so ( tightly pushed, in order to get it done at the proper time ; which is one very i;*i poriaui iieui in cultivating ii farm. Hy planting no more laud tliau we could cultivate with ease, and at the proper time, for tlio benefit of the growing crop, I believe that our lands would last j longer, and that they could bo kept up in a higher state of cultivation than they are according to our present system of I farming. Not a smaM number ot us are in the habit of planting just as much ground as we could possibly cultivate, provided we I were to have no hindrance of any kind whatever. When we nro planting our | crops we shoii'd take it into consideration, that we will necessarily be compell j ed to lose a ^reat deal of time out of our farms, perhaps, on account <>f sickness, j and several days, or even weeks, nerhaps, may be lost on account of wet weather, j We should remember too. that our plows will have to be stopped, in order 10 liar 1 vest and secure our crops of small grain. There are several advantages to he <le rived from not planting too much?one of which is. that the farmer has a groat ' deal more rime i?t o<l.t - - ? ! the year, to devote to tlio repairing of his | fencing, to the tepaiting of his buildings, | and to the improvement and beautifying | of bis place, generally. Another consul ! enible advantage is, that ho has more time for making and hauling out manures ! over bis farm, in order to keep up bis | lands; and, according to my notion of things, there is no necessity for the farmer I to let bis lands wear out at all, especially j if they 'ie so as to prevent their washing away ', and even that may be prevented, j in a great measure, by having ;hem prop* ! erly ditched to carry off the water. Hv : planting uo more than we can manage easily, and by taking the necessnrv pains in manuring and resting our lands, 1 1 think that wo might improve them every Vpur * f\r at ? 1 ' , ; ... ? Bli:| nu IlliU.ll ivrejl % III*Ul j up, so that tlieir productive qualities 'would not deteriorate. In my < pinion, every field on tlie farm ought to be culti' vated just as well as we would wish to j cultivate a small lot or garden. 1 believe it would pay. And then another thing? | it is so much easier to work over a small ! piece of ground than a large one. And more than this?I believe that one acre j of land cultivated in this manner,'would { yield us more produce tbnn two acres j botched over, as too many ot us do in i tilling our lands. Many more things could be written on i tliia subject, which might not he entirely ' uninteresting to many of your readers, : but for fear I may annoy you, or weary their patience, I aball write no more at present, but subscribe myself, Respectfully, Ac., T. F. A. Calhoun, July 28th, 1850. The brine in which pork and other meats have been pickled is a deadly poison to horses and hogs. This w as in god several years ago by Mr. Kevnal, a dis tingutshed veterinarian of France, and I last week, ?ays the Kentucky Turf Reg I imci, vn n |n-|at;uni III 11t? practical demonstration. A gentleman I in the village of Lawrenceport, Ind., emptied brine from a pork barrel into hi* lot. A flock of hog*, as also one horse, partook of it, and the result was the horse and seven lings out of nine, died in less | than six hours from the time the bAriel | was emptied.. Hick OmrvRo.?Boil three tablespoon* fule of rice flour in a pint of mtlk. When cold, add three oggs, two ounces of but ter, and a tablespoouful essence of vauili la. Sweeten to taste. luiiiuinmii. A cotemporarv says 'a roasted onion bound upon the wrist en the pulse will stop the most inveterate toochach in a few minutes.' There is a man in Exeter whose memory is so short that it only reaches to his knees. Per consequence, he has not paid for his last pair of lioots. A W estern editor says, 'On our outside will be found some line suggestions for raising peaches.' We suppose that on his itisi<le may he found the peaches thetnseles. A 'wise man t<! tiotLain made his servant sleep in a cliamber adjoining ins own. lie cried out to him on one occasion, '(/eorge, am I asleep?' 'Yes, sir,' replied the conscientious (leorgc. 'All, good !' A ' idy in New York, <jiiile overcome by a visit from the renowned chess champion, wishing to d ? the agreeable, said, 'Will Mr. M >rphy take a seal on the sorphy and accept a cup of corpliy V Ausunck ok Mind?lirown wrote to Jones.?'1 have left my aitutt box on your table?please return it by the bearer.'? lie was about to seal the note, when lie discovered his Minft" box in his pocket, and therefore add* 1 a post script?'I have foUll'l it- so .to in.I I" - u ujtc H'UISttll IQ look for it.' And lie dispatched the letter. A liorsn liii.i..? A hutchor presented a hill for tlie tenth time to a rich skinHint. 'It strikes me,1 said the latter, 'liiat this is a pretty round hill.' 'Yes,' replied 1 lite butcher, 'I've sent it round often enou.k to make it appear fo, and I have called ; vv to get it squared.' A boy g'?t his grandfather's gun and loaded it, hut was afiaid to lire : he, how ever, like I the fun of loading, and so put in anolhei charge, hut was still afraid to lire. lie kept on charging, but without firing', until lie got six charges in the old piece. His grandmother, learning his toj nrerity, smartly reprover! him, and grasping the old continental, discharged it.? i The result was tremendous, throwing the old lady oil her hack. She promptly struggled to regain lo r feet, hut the hoy crier! out?"L<iy still i/rauiiii, there arc tier more charpcs to </<> off yetV NVasn'i Ai-qi'aIM ko.?Two drunken fellows were walking along in (he rain.? Tlitt ?!riiiiUf-t cno ihen asked : 1?iok (hie) does er rain ^liic) !' 'In course it rains,' said Ihck. Tlio answer was ?ppai<*ntlv satisfaclorv, and iliev piuceedod several lods fathj er, when the (juestion was again propounded by the anxious searcher after truth I under difficulties : 'Dick, 1 sav 1) (hir) toll tne, does-er rain ?' 'Johnny,' said Dick solemnly, 'I'm afraid yer druuk ; in course it's raining.' In a few minutes Johni.y was again j troubled with doubts, and sought to solve tliein. pick, <>e. ms-er me (hie) ser-goin (liic) ' er rain (hie) !' I tick exasperated? 'Johnny, jer a fool. Don't yer see it is a rainin'. Can't yer feel it rainin', Johnnt V Johnny?''Sense tne, }t (hie). I Hint much acquainted in tliis town (hie) !' Poppir g the (Question. Mchilable Merit, a joung lady over twenty-nine, who never had a chance to change the illustrative character < f her j name, was seated over the fire in her little sitting room, when a knock was heard, and who should make his appearance but Solomon Periwinkle. 'Whv,' thought she, '1 wonder what he's come for ; can it be.' ? Hut we don't divulge the thought that passed thr< ugh tho^ady's mind. 'IIow do you do, Miss Merit V I truy well, l t It a n k you, Mr. Periwinkle. Not I>111 1 feel h little lonely uow and then.1 'You see fis I was coming by, I thought d would ju>t step in and ask you a question about? that is, about.'? 'l suppose,' thought Miss Merit, 'ho means about the state of niv heart.' 'The fact is,' said Solomon, who was rather bashful, 'I feel a little delicate about asking, but 1 hope you won't think it strange.' O, no,' simpered Miss M.,'I don't think it at all strange, and, in fact, I have been somehow expecting it.1 'Oh,' said Solomon, rather surprised, 'I believe you have in your possession some tiling of mine.' 'llis heart, he means,' said Miss M., aside. 'Well, sir, it tnav' afford yon pleasure to learn that you have mine in return. It is fully ami entirely your own.' 'What I I got your umbrella?1 exclaimed Solomon in amszement. 'I thmk you must be mistaken, and f don't think Pd like to exchange mine for it, for mine was given me.' 'I beg your psnlon,' ?aid the discomfit* ed lady, 'hnt I made a mistake. I quite rorjjoi yo:ir umhreiln, which I borrowed otne lime ngo. litre it is. 1 whs think( ing of Something e!*c.' ; . 'If,' mid Solomon, 'there ia northing-of your* that I lmve got, I ahull i?ft happy to return it.' 'Well, no, it'* no mntter,' stummerOd , Mia* M.. coloring. 'tj<w| morniojf.' *