OCR Interpretation

Cheraw gazette. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1835-1838, May 03, 1836, Image 1

Image and text provided by University of South Carolina; Columbia, SC

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88084121/1836-05-03/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

i '
m. maclean editor & proprietor. CIIERAW, S. C., TUESDAY, MAY 3, 1836. . . r0L 1
Published every Tuesday.
If paid within three months, - . . H. 00
L If paid withii.three months after the close
of the year, 3. 50
| If not paid within that time, . . . . 4. 00
1 \ company of 6ix persons taking the paper at
I tho same rost Office, shall be entitled to it at $"15,
; paid in advance, and a company of ten persons
at #20; provided the names be forwarded together,
accompanied by the money.
f' No paper to be discontinued but at the option
of the Editor till arrearages are paid.
Advertisements inserted for 75 cents per square
the first time, and 37$ for each subsequent insertion.
LPersons sending in advertisements are requested
to specify the number of times they are to be
inserted; otherwise they will be continued till
L j ordered out, and charged accordingly.
CTThe Postage must be paid on all comraunications
sent by mail.
From Combe on Health and Mental Education*
Excessive Exercise of the Brain
The evils arising from excessive or illtimed
exercise of the brain or any of its
parts, are numereus and equally in accordance
with the ordinary laws of physiology.
When we use the eye too long, or in
too bright a light, it becomes bloodshot,
and the increased action of its vessels and
nerves gives rise to a sensation of fatigue
and pain requiring us to desist.. If we
turn away the eye, the irritation gradually
subsides, and the healthy state returns; but
if we continue to look intently, or resume
our employment before the eye has regained
its natural state by repose, the irritation
at last becomes permanent, and disease,
followed by weakness of sight or even
blindness, may ensue; as often happens to
glass-blowers, smiths, and others, who are
obliged to work in an. intense light.
Precisely analogous phenomena occur
when, from intense mental excitement, the
brain is kept long in a state of excessive
* activity. The only difference is, that we
can always see what happens in the eye,
but rarely what takes place in the brain,
t Occasionally however, cases of fracture of
the scull occur, in which, from part of the
bone being removed, we can sec the quick- i
ened circulation in the vessels of the brain <
as easily as in those of the eye. Sir Astley
Cooper had a young gentleman brougt j
to him who had lost a portion of his scull j
* - # '? ? ?. u Or? Avamininrv ,
JUSI aoovc me eycuruw. V/ 1J CAaiiiiiiing | |
the bead," says Sir Astley, "I distinctly
saw the pulsation of the brain was regular
and alow; but at this time he was agitated
ty some opposition to his wishes, and directly
the blood teas sent with increased
fore* to the brain, the pulsation became frequent
and violent; if therefore" continues
Sir Aaley, "you omit to keep the mind free
from agitation* your other means icill be
ungwinng" in the treatment from the injuries
of the brain. We are conscious,
indeed, of a flow of blood in the head when
we think intently, or are roused by passion;
and the distension or the small vessels of
the brain is not the less real or influential
on account of its being hidden from our
* T/w* nfuMi it reveals itself by its
V dk vv v* ?v?* *?
efforts when least expected, and leaves ]
traces after death which are but too legi. i
ble. How many public men, like Whit- i
break, Romilly, Castlereagh, and Canning
urged on by ambition or natural eagerness
of mind, have been suddenly arrested in
their career by the inordinate action of the
brain induced by incessant toil! And how
many more have had their mental power
for ever impaired by similar excess !?
\ When tasked beyond its strength, the eye
becomes insensible to light, and no longer
conveys any impressions to the mind. In
like manner, the brain, when much exhausted,
becomes incapable of thought,
and consciousness is almost lost in a feeling
of utter confusion.
At any time of life, excessive and continued
mental exertion is hurtful ; but in
infancy and early youth, when the structure
of the brain is still immature and del
icate, permanent miscbiet is more easuy
inflicted by injudicious treatment tban at
any subsequent period; and, in this respect,
the analogy is complete between the
brain and the other parts of the body, as
we Bate already seen and exemplified in
the injurious effects of premature exercise
of the bones and muscles. Scrofulous and
riekety children are the most % usual sufferers
in this way. They are generally
remarkable for large heads, great precocity
of understanding, and small delicate
bodies. But, in such instances, the great
size of the brain and the acuteness of mind
are the results of morbid growth; and, even
*' - 1 1 ?"^n>on( ftlO nVll Ifl THIS
Wllfl IHC DC91 uiaua^?i<iv>ii>| >?v t
ses the first years of its life constantly on
the brink of active disease. Instead,
however, of trying to repress its activity, j
the fond parents, milled by the early promise
of genius, too often excite it still further,
by unceasing cultivation and the
never failing stimulus of praise and emulation,
and, finding its progress for a time
equal to their wannest wishes, they look
forward with ecstacy to the day when its
talents will break forth, and shed a lustre
on its name. But, in exact proportion as
the picture becomes brighter to their fancy,
the probability of its being realized becomes
less; as the brain, worn out by premature
exertion, cither becomes diseased
or loses its tone, leaving the mental powers
slow and depressed for the remainder
of life. The expected prodigy is thus ultimately
and easily outstripped in the social
race by many whose apparently dull outset
promised him an easy victory.
Taking for our guide the necessities ol
the constitution, it will be obvious that the
modes of treatment commonly resorted tc
ought to be reversed, and that, instead o!
straining to the uttermost the already irritable
powers of the precocious child, ani
leaving his dull competitor to ripen at le
{^sure, a systematic attempt ought to 1
made, from early infancy, to rouse to a
-tion the languid faculties of the latter; whi
no pains ought to be spared to moi
erate and give tone to the - activity of tl:
former. Instead of this, however, the pr<
maturely intelligent child is generally sei
to school, and tasked with lessons at a
unusually early age; while the healthy bi
more backward boy, who requires to b
stimulated, is kept at home in idleness
perhaps for two'or three years Tongei
merely on account of his backwardness
A double error is here committed, and th
consequence to the clever boy is frequent
ly the permanent loss of health and of hi
envied superiority of intellect.
In youth, too, much mischief is done b;
the long school hours, and continued ap
plication of mind, which the present sys
tern of education" requires. The law o
arap/>ien flint tnnnr.onclnino^ arliftn ov
hausts the vital powers of an organ, applies
equally to the brain as to the muscles; anc
hence the necessity of varying the oceu
pations of the young, and, allowing fre
quent intervals of active exercise in the
open air, instead of enforcing the contin
ued confinement now so common. This
exclusive attention to mental culture fails
as might be expected, even in its essentia
object; for experience shows that, with c
rational distribution of employment anc
exercise, a child will make greater progress
than in double the time employed in
continuous mental exertion. If the human
being were made up of nothing but a brain
and nervous system, it would be very well
to content ourselves with sedantary pursuits,
and to confine education entirely to
the mind. But when observation tells us
that we have numerous other important
organs of motions, sanguification, diges
fl 9 u
tion, circulation, and nutrition, all demanding
exercise in the open air as essential
both to their own health afltl to that of the
nervous system, it is worse than folly to
shut our eyes to the fact, and to act as
if we could, by denying it, alter the constitution
of nature, and thereby escape the
consequences of our misconduct.
Reason and experience being thus set
at naught both by parents and teachers,
in the management of the young, the latter
naturally grown up with the notion that
no such influences as the laws of organization
exist, and that they may follow any
course of life whicq inclination leads them
ro prefer, without injury to health, proviJed
they avoid what is called dissipation,
[t is owing to this ignorance, that we find
k'oung men of a studious or literary habit
inter heedlessly upon an amount of menal
exertion, unalleviated by bodily exercise
or intervals of repose^ which is quite
incompatible with the continued enjoyment
of a sound mind in a sound body.
Such, however, is the effect of the total
neglect of all instruction in the laws of the
organization during early education, that
it becomes almost impossible to warn an
ardent atudentagainst the dangers to which
he is exposing himself, and nothing but
actual experience will convince him of the
v.nm AfntVior'i! Magazine.
JL 1 VM1 bUV 4?*VkMV? w
Mother, I have picked the sweetest flower
I could find in all the field for you. You
are always pleased with flowers,. are you
uot, mother?
Yes, when they are plucked by little
Mother, I want to tell you something, but
T fonr it will make vou foel bad.
What is that, my boy?
Why, mother, the boys say tiiat father
was poor, Does that make you blush, mother?
No, Frank, I am not ashamed to be ealled
But, mother, the boys laugh at poor peopie.
They call them mean. I don like to
have them say that my father was poor.
Is it wicked to be poor, mother?
No, my son, not if we are honest and in.
Mother, the boys laugh at me, at the Sab.
bath school. They point at my shoes anc
they say they are coarse and mean. Shal
I go anv more to the Sabbath school?
The boys do not hurt you. do they?
No, mother, they do not hurt me, bu
they make me feel bad when they do no
like me. I want every body to love rne
I love every body, mother. It makes mi
happy to see you smile,and to hear my teach
er say, "You are right, Frank, you ar
right." It almost makes me cry when
think you love mc, and that my teachc
loves me; but I am not sorry, mother.
Frank, if your mother loves you, an
your teacher loves you, you must not min
what the boys say.
But, mother, I think I should be happie
" '* /tnnln m ?v\
Ill nau line CiOUll'S, UIIU aumc luhj in in
pocket, and some bright buttons on m
Frank, could you recite your lesson an
better, or should I like you better, or woul
vour teacher like you any better?
No, mother; you like me because I ai
your little boy, and my teacher likes me b<
cause I study to get my lessons, and I ti
to be quiet and attentive to what he sa}
to us.
You see, then, my dear Frank, that it
not riches that makes you either good, <
f happy; and that it is not fine clothes tb
' makes your friends love you. Sensifc
> people think but little about fine clothes f
f children, if they are kept neat and clean.
Ever}' boy's mamma docs not think
i i j oU do, mother. Jack Woodbull's mamr
ii- gave him, the other day, a shilling, to buy
)e him sis rolls of gingerbread and some-sugar
c- candy, for being good ; and she promised
lo him a line suit of clothes on his birth day, if
J- he would not strike the baby, and if he would
ic not pick the buds from ofTthe lilacs, and did
not tread upon the beds in the flower garden.
!t Will you give me a new suit of clothes
n when 1 am eight years old, if I am good ?
No, my son, I shall never hire you to be
e good, or reward my children in that way.
5 If you should be a disobedient boy and
r should spoil my plants, I should not give
/ you sweet kisses, I should not smile Lupon
g you, I should not receive your flowers, but I
. should have to separate vou from mv coin's
" Mother, I should rather have your sweet
kisses, and your pleasant smiles, than ten
rolls of gingerbread. I should soon forget
what I had been eating, but I should not
p -forget it if you were angry with me. I
could not be happy if you did not love me.
But, mother, you arc not angry with me
! now I
No, Frank. I shall never be- diseased
with you when you try to do right.
[ Mother, you was not angry with me
' when I broke your large pitcne#, when
Pompcy ran against me, and knocked me
J down. You said it was an accident.
You are right, my love?lam only d ispleased
with my children when they are dis|
obedient and idle; when they are careless
' and inattentive; when they arc unkind to
each other, or impolite to strangers.
1 Mother, I remember that Dr. S. called
1 me a polite little boy, the other day; but I
1 did not know what he meant; I do not un'
derstand.that word. .
What were you doing Frank, when Dr. (
' S. called you a polite little boy? ' (
I found his whip for him when he* could
not find it. I thanked him for coming to {
see you, when you were sick. It was the (
same night, mother, that I walked on tiptoe,
in your room, because you said a noise *
, made your head ache. ^
Well, Frank, I understand politeness to
mean, doing the same for others that I ^
would have others do for us. I
. Mother, I did not understand Dr. S. be- ^
cause William Lacy said that I should ne- .
ver be polite unless I went to the dancing ,
schonl. whom I chnnld tmifrht tn nn
??? - ?
my head, and to make a genteel bow, and
to walk gracefully. ' ?
Well, my dear Frank, we will talk mc
about this another time. I see fromtne ?
window-that our neighbor, Mrs. Jones, is
coming in. You must not interrupt our
conversation, for that would not be polite. ?
You may now take your book, and get "
your lesson. - r
Good morning, Mrs Jones. P
How are you, Mrs. Smith? I hope you e
will excuse this early call; feeling unhappy v
at home, I have come in for a few minutes; ^
but I see you arc engaged, as usual, in con- 1
versation with your children; for my part, I ti
never find much to say to my children. I v
am always glad to get them offto school or li
out of the house; for they arc such noisy, 1<
racketing children, that I cannot collect my o
scattered brain where they are: they are so e
wild that my house is in confusion when
they are at home. But I never was fond of g
children. My husband and I try to do the r
best we can for them. We are busy night 1
and day, trying to scrape together a pretty p
little property, so that we may educate our c
children when they get old enough to send t
them away from home. . * b
But, my dear Mrs Jones, I fear there is *
often a sad mistake as to the import of the
word education. Many persons do not I
seem to be aware of the fact that some men 1
and* women, are well educated, who have sel- ^
dom, if ever, been sent abroad, and who
have had but limited advantages, even in a 1
common school. Is it right, Mrs Jones, to
send our children to school, expecting the
teacher to give them habits ofindustry and
application? How can this be done in the
course of a few months, in opposition to all
tlieir former habits? How can parents expect
teachers to form useful and agreeable
habits in their children, while there is little or
| no pains taken with them at home? How ]
can parents expect a teacher to correct a ]
selfish, and covetous, and ill natured dispo
sition in their children, while they are indul
ged in every idle whim at home by them
selves? My dear Mrs. Jones, before I had
I a family of my own, I taught school for a
I number of years. I found, from my own
experience, that those parents who felt the
least responsibility for the improvement of
t their children at home, and took the least
j pains to form their habits and manners, to
make them respectful, affectionate, and con*
descending, were always the most difficult
* to satisfy and please. The experience I
e then acquired has led me to take pains with
j my own little flock, and I find I need not
r wait till they are grown, before I see and
taste the fruits of my labors. Ever)' day I
j am more than compensated for the care and
j labor I have bestowed upon their education,
and I never find myself so happy as when
nnd what i? mrvst rrrntpful to.
tp 111 I Ills 11 j ? .W --r?
y a mother's heart, all my feelings of affection
v are fully reciprocated by them.
My dear Mrs. Smith, this conversation
y will put you in possession of a secret I no
d longer wish to conceal from one on whose
candor I can so fully rely. I have, for some,
n time, been sensible of the amazing differ2
ence there is between your children and
y mine. It was this conviction that brought
,'s me to your house this morning. I fear my
children are already beyond a mother's inis
fluence. I lcar I shall never know the sweet
Dr comforts of domestic life, while I have no
at one censure or to blame but myself. My poor
ile poor children! I need your advice, but I
or have already trespassed" upon your time.
Permit me to request the favor of resuming
as the painful subject of my present grief and
fi.a anxiety at a future time.
The late Rev. Robert Hall hadNflj
an aversion to every species of fal^
and evasion, that lie sometimes expre
himself very strongly on the subject,
following is an instance, stated in his lif
Dr. Gregory:?
Once while he was spending an cvei
at the house of a friend, a lady, who
there on a visit, retired, that her little ,gii
four years old, might go to bed. Sh<
turned in about half ati hour, and said
lady near her, "She is gone to sleep* 1
on my night-cap, and lay down by her
she soon dropped ofF."?-M* 'Hall, \
overheard this, said, "Excuse me, ma3i
do you wish your child to grow up a Ks
"Oil dear no, sir; I should be shocke<
such a thing." "Then bear with me w
1 say, you must never act a lie before 1
children arc very quick observers, and s<
learn that which assumes to be what is i
is a Jie, whether acted or spoljiwi." T
was uttered with a kindness which preel
ed offence, yet with a seriousness that co
not be forgotten.
' rl'ral ecoxojiy.
From the Lexington (Ay.) Intelligent
The following remarks on the subj
of the culture of Silk, are from a let
of a gentleman of Lexington now in \
ginia to his friend.
Valley of Virginia, 5th March, )
1836, j
Dear Sir:?
With some limitation, it is confesses
?n axiomic truth, that he who, by prope
directed effort, become^ the instrument
:ausing two blades of grass to spring
ilace of one\ or, in any way multiplyi
be available means of sustenance?fo
)r raiment; is regarded as one of t
greatest temporal benefactors of his ra<
Believing in common with a compai
ively small number (I am sorry to sa;
)f the American people, that an extend
ield is now certainly open in nearly
atitudes of this widely extended count!
or individual enterprise and ernolume
n the Silk Culture, I have taken the libei
or the want of a better subject, to a
Iress you briefly within the limits of
ingle letter, a few conclusions which ha
>een arrived at on this subject by exten
id trial, in the experience of gentlem
ioth in the Eastern and middle States.
I write yoti with the more willingne
?n this subject, because I recollect
lave heard your favorable expressio
especting this branch of national ind
endence and profit?and believing, furl
r, that there are few in my adopted Sta
rho have the means more at disposal
Like the lead, by introducing immediate
he Morus Alba and M. Multicaulus,
rue'Chinese Mullberry tree; and w
vould become the organ with more w
ingness, of widely disseminating kno'
edge to our fellow-citizens in the Wei
?n*this interesting branch of pastoi
My principal design shall then be
five you an abstract drawn up by a gentl
^ - in (Ka oitir
Iiail U1 UApoi iViiiuvm ill k.iu V.>^
Ubany, New-York, embracing the e
>endituYcs and proceeds for seven su
cssive years, commencing with 200 ci
iugs, chiefly intended to show that t
usiness may be commenced without ca
tat, successfully. As follows :
lent for 1 acre for Nursery, $ 5 '
Two hundred cuttings, sav, 2 1
Trouble of Collecting, Setting,
&c., - 2
deeding 500 Worms, 2
CR. 50,000 Eggs, sold at
12 1-2 per 1,000 6
Rent for Nursery, 5
Propagating by Cuttings or
Layers 1000 trees, C
Feeding 15,000 Worms, 10
Reeling 6 lbs, Silk, 4
CR. Six lbs. Silk sold at
?5 per lb., ou
Nett gain second year. 4
Rent, 5
Setting 7,000 Trees, 21
Feeding and care of 5,000
Worms. 25
Reeling 20 lbs. Silk, 15
Twenty lbs. Silk sold at So .
per lb., 100
Nett gain 3d year, 30
Rent of Nursery, o
Rent of field 20 acres, at 2 dolI
lars, 40
j Preparing ground and transplanting
1200 Trees, 12
Attendance of Worms, and
reeling 50 lbs. Silk, 100
CR. 50 lbs at $5 per lb. 25C
Nett gain 4lh year, $92
Rent nursery and field, 4:
Transplanting of 7,000 Trees
Feeding and care of 1,000,000
^ . Worms, 250 00
Ereat Reeling 416 lbs. Silk, 312 00
639 50
416 lbs. Silk, at $5 per lb. 2,080 00
'*< Net! proceeds 5th year, $1,441 50
n,n8- ' SIXTH YEAR.
fcgnt, 42 50
rl of Twnsplanting 47,000 Trees, 235 00
34f rFecding and care of 2,5000t?
k 000 Worms, 300 00
Mf Reeling 1041 lbs Silk. 205 50
an<r interest of Cocoonery supl^foaed
to have been built
rlip^ear, 210 00
l?! j, . 1,308 00
Mc 1.041 lbs. Silk, at $3 per lb. 5,203 00
Nefrfcain'etli year, $3.897 09
"IS A Hrttuinn 4kr ran I and in
I HMVWHIg -fvt (VII t HUM IUu,
j terest tbi# year as before u
feeding and care of 15,536,*
000 Worms, and Reeling
6,886 pounds Silk, $4,000 00
6,886 lbs. Silk sold at $5 per
;er lb. 34,430 00
' Nett proceeds, 7ih year,
after liberal allowances, $30,430 00
rir- We
arc assured that there is nothing
visionary in this calculation ; and there is
no item in which it has not been far
outdone ir\ practice-nothing in it but what
.. any practical grower of Silk know* caif be
-v realized.
ry . Comment on the above is unnecessary:
? every one at a eingle view, may see and
*** decide for him or herself that even in this
rw* - . . / ., p. j
"jj notable age and generation, tor innu ana ;
speculation, that no branch of business or
pc investment can possibly yield such an
"e* astounding dividend, after the first few
rfi o t *
~ years of preparation. In a national point
of view, ita importance can only be
e.| measured by reference to the item of Silk
in the Treasurer's Report, which causes
P'' an annual drain from the United States of
from six to ten millions of dollars.
Y The Morus genus will thrive well in the
poor lands of Virginia, and I am very j
" - *r n V? T* '
" happy to say that iu. iv. r.sq., my
*e brother, has obtained through a correspondence
with Judge Spencer of Albany,
en the seed of M. Alba, the growing shoots
from which I saw in his nursery yesterday.
ss P. S. For want of room elsewhere, I
wish to say here that the Morus Multins
eaulus may be obtained at Prince's Garden,
New-York, St. Clairs, Baltimore or
Philadelphia, or at Newton, near Boston,
to Surface Manuring.
y [From the Farmers' Register.]
?r Until very lately, the opinion was very
v.? general, if not universal, that fermented- manures
should be turned under with the ploqgh
wI as soon as put on the land ; and that otherj
j wise their value would be much impaired, if
I not totally lost by evaporation. This was
1 - * "
thought especially necessary, 11 uio uwnurc j
*? used was rough or half rotted.
Ic" I hare thought much on this subject, and
?' for the last twenty years marked the effects
x" of manure in all its various modes of appliIC"
catiom both on my own farnrr and on my
neighbours'?and now propose to give you
he the results of my observation, leaving it to
P' persons more learned than myself to recbncile
these results to the principles of philosophy.
Fifteen or twenty years ago, I
observed an old man of good practical sense,
00 and successful as a farmer, carting manure
out in the month of July, on a field intended
00 for indian corn the next year: this was spread
00 as fast as carted, and remained in that situ?
ation until spring following. He justified
00 this practice by a perfectly unanswerable
reason, viz. that experience had taught hjjp,
25 that both his crop and his land were more
? improved by the use of his manure in that
75 way, than any other lie had tridti. The
I ennfiHence I had in the integrity and good
sense of this old gentleman induced me to
00 make repeated experiments on this subject,
all of which have been decidedly favorable
00 to top dressing, or surface manuring, and
00 proved to my entire satisfaction, "that ma50
nun?, when in contact with the earth, does
not loose its strength by evaporation." This,
50 I was exceedingly loth to believe, and I made
many efforts to account for the fact?(for
oo that 1 could not doubt)?and at length came
to the conclusion that the chemical affinity
50 between the parties of manure and the earth |
was too strong to be overcome by the power j
qq of evaporation; and that the apparent evaporation
is nothing more than the passing off
of the water, which had been contained in
the mauure. Whether this is so or not, I
am sure I do not know. But I do know,
that in the many different experiments I have
made, both the land and the crop are more
benefitted by the application of manure on the
land, than by turning it under the land. I
hope young farmers, who are not yet wedded
to any set of opinions, will be induced (at
00 least) to make the experimont.
Not having fame as a farmer, to give
00 weight to my opinions, I shall sign myself
00 Note.?The late Mr. Thos.West, brother
of Sir Benjamin West, settled on a farm in
00 New Jersey, after he had reached the age
of forty. His object was to make it a gra>
00 zing farm. He used no plough whatever,
but the hoc and scythe to eradicate briars,
r 00 weeds, &c. He top dressed his fields, or
> 00 some of them, every year, and in a few years,
he had the richest farm in the whole country
! 09 around. See Memoirs Philadelphia Agri
cultural Society.
2 50 On the feeding and management of milch
3 00 coics.?It is of great consequence iu th<
management of a dairy that the cows
?????a in saggar * i
should be treated with gentleness, so that*.
they may not be afraid of being milked of
dislike the milker. A cow win Hot yield . $
her milk williogly to orre She fears, rates,
or apprehends ill treatment from. Yootig
cows particularly may have their character
for gentleness and good milkers formed ;
by the manner in which they are treated.
This truth, of much importaneetoollcdQ*
cerned in a dairy or its products,, ia well
established and illustrated by a com? ,-A
munication from Mr. Bussel Woodward,
publ ished in Memoirs of the New Yotk
board of Agriculture, in substance ra fol- # "
Having formerly kept a laigojnumber
of cows I observed many them
dried up their milk so early in the Ml that,
they were not profitable# whHer ethers
with the same keeping, gave tnRfc plenty
until late in the season. I likewise have
often heard my neighbors observe, lost
>- .. .L L. -J iiSt_
some o? weir cows, tuougu verj gvuu ?f*~
the forepart of the season, dried up thtff.,
milk so early that they were unprofitable* fcv ^
and they would have put them off; I accordingly
found it expedient to find^u!
the cause, if possible; and when I brought
to mind the way some of my young,
cows had been kept and milked, I attributed
the cause to the milking of them
the first season they gave milk ; and by
many experiments since, 1 have found that
young cows, the first year they pare milk
may be made, with careful milking and
good keeping to give milk almost any
length of time required, say from the first
of Way to the first of February following,
and will give milk late always after with,
careful milking. But if they are left to
dry up their milk early in the fail, they,
will be sure to dry up their milk each succeeding
year, if they have a calf every year
the same season of the year?and nothing
but extraordinary keeping will prevent if,,
and that but a short time. 1 have had them
dry up their milk in August and couldnot
by any means make them give milk roachpast
that time in any succeeding year. 1
had two heifers which has calves in April,
and after getting them gentle, I set a boy
to milk thetn for the season, (which is
often done the first season on account of
Iinninn amall toala A tlO l*flrflll>88
11j11 uaviiig oiiHi i ivuiaf j mv ? ?? w?
and dried them both up in August. Although
I was satisfied I should lose the
greater part of the profit of them afterwards,
yet I took it upon me the following,
year to milk them myself and give them,
good feed,,bot to no purpose. I could
not make them give milk much past the
time they dried the year before. X have
two cows nowBtbat were milked the first
year they had calves, until near (he time
of their calving again, and have continued
to give milk as late ever since, if we *
will milk them.?Geneuet Farmer. FOREIGN.
The orange Associations in Ireland;
have been finally dissolved, a measure
which will probably be productive of inK
portant results. The Duke of Cumber- ',
land,?the grand master,?in obedience
to the command of the King, has given,
formal information of this event to the
subordinate lodges, arid it would seem
they intend to foirow the course of conduct*
of which he has given them an example.
A select committee of the House of
Commons were in session on the subject
of the money, which Mr. Raphael asseis
ed he had paid Mr. O'Conuell to obtain
a return for that place to Parliament^ The
examination of Mr. Raphael had began,,
and thus far nothing more had been elicited
than a confirmation of what he stated,
in his published letters, except one important
point, which was that O'Connell in a
letter to Raphael asks him " Will you. let
mo linnu) it* villi u'aiiId like to acceot of &
?..W .. j __ _
Barronetcy ? I do not make this offer
without authority.".
New York, April 18.-^Latest fvm
Spain.?By the brig Caroline, we nave
a file of the Gibraltar Chronicle to the.
12th of March, inclusive, it bra remark*
able circumstance, and without a parallel,
in our recollection, that we have'ini these
Gibraltar papers advices from London;
and Paris as late as we have received;
direct, previous to the anivaii of the
Sylvie de Grasso and OcwulgeCv y ester*j
The intelligence from Spain, is not important.
No event of importance bid
taken place nt the seat of war ; them had:
been marchings and counter:-marchings,. #
some changes of position,, ana * ijsw
skirmishes, in which bod? sides*,'as usual* K.->
claimed the victory. - The Cfriaibi had
made themselves masters of another small
fortress called La Plencia.
The elections were not yet completed?,
it was confidently expected that they
would terminate greatly in favor of the
ministry. *'
From the following paragraph* which
appears in the Chronicle of the T5th*TiL~ r
appears that the war is still carried on^n
Catalonia with more than savage ferocity:
In orderto avenge the death, of hia old
mother, executed in Tortosa, pursuant to
Gen. NuguerasUorders, confirmed by
Gen. Kina, the Carlist leader Cabsera directed
whatever prisoners should be
, taken by his followers* to be shot; and
' the wife of Col. Fontileras, military com.
mander of Chelva, and three mote ladies
who were in his haods, to be shot, and the
number to be coafepleted to thirty; and
i farther announced, that for every Ceriist
; that should henceforward be put to death,
j twenty relatives of those by whom sucb

xml | txt