vol.. y\t. NO. 3. 



AND HORTICULTURAL REGISTER 



13 



THF, UNIVERSAL SWEET POTATO. 



The following nmusinjr illiistratioii of the divcr- 

 ified uses to which swei-t potatoes may be npplicil, 

 •e extract from Col. Cljiiborne's graphic sketches 

 fa "Trip through the Piney Woods," in the east- 

 rn pnrt of our State, (Mississippi.) — Soulh ll'estern 

 'armer. 



"In answer to our eager shout, a female voice 

 lat sniii-.ded most benignantly, bade us ' light.' 

 t/o walked in, drenched and dripping, and found 

 irselves at the residence of an aged widow, who 

 ilh four daughters and three sons, have lived there 

 any years, their nearest neighbor being twelve 



les off. They owned a large stock of cattle, and 

 e three boys (as the good mother called her sons, 

 ho were tall enough for Prussian grenadiers.) 

 ere llicn absent wiih a drove. Finding ourselves 



come, we stripped our horse, and led him to a 

 nail stable that stood near. We found the trough 

 led with polntoes, and the rack with hay made 



the dried vines. Our horse ate thcni with great 

 llish. On this farm, as on most of the others in 



I same locality, a few acres are cowpened and 

 nted in corn, for broad ; an acre or two for ice ; 



It the main crop is the sweet potato. .Some nations 

 last of their palm tree, which supplies them with 

 md, oil, light, fuel, shelter and clothing— but it 

 111 be seen that we have in the potato, a staple 

 tide scarcely inferior to it. It will grow upon 

 Is too thin to produce corn, and with little cul- 

 ■e. It may be converted into a valuable manure. 

 If forage, it is exxellent. Hogs and cows thrive 

 (on it exceedingly. An acre properly cultivated, 



II yield from three to five hundred bushels. Its 

 ■inaceous properties make it almost equal to bread, 

 «1 it supplies some of the most delicious dishes 



the dessert. 



"Supper was somewhat tardy; but in an adjoin- 

 t; room, lit up by a brisk fire, we heard sundry 

 otes of preparation.' It was a rare chance that 

 ought a guest to that lone dwelling, and its kind 

 nates were intent on making us comfortable. 

 lied by the cheerful signs and savory odors, we 

 St ourselves into an arm-chair and dozed, until at 

 Uglh a gentle touch and a musical voice, sum- 

 med us to the table. The repast was abundant, 

 •-ellent, and scrupulously neat — but almost every 

 h was composed of potatoes, dressed in many 

 io'js ways. There were baked potatoes and 

 ;d potatoea — bacon and potatoes boiled together 

 a fine loin of beef flanked round with potatoes, 

 ely browned, and swimming in gravy. A hash 

 wild turkey was garnished with potatoes mixed 

 with it. A roast fowl was stuffed with pota- 

 is : beside us stood a plate of potato biscuit, as 

 Iht as sponge : the coffte, which was strong and 

 ill flavored, was made of /)o(a(oe«, and one of the 

 lU drew from a corner cupboard, a rich potato pie. 

 In about an hour a charming little blue-eyed 

 1 brought us a tumbler of potato beer, that spar- 

 d like champagne, and rather archly intimated 

 t there were some hot potatoes in the ashes, if 

 felt like eating one. The beer was admirable, 

 1 we were told that good whiskey, molasses and 

 car, were sometimes made of potatoes. 

 ' At length we turned in. The little chamber 

 were shown to, was the perfection of neatness. 

 e floor was sprinkled over with white sand. A 

 ill mirror .«tood on the wall, from which was 

 pended a sort of napkin, tastily worked all over, 

 ove was a rosary of birds eggs of every color, 

 i over the window, and pinned along the white 



curtains of the bed, were wreaths of flowers — now 

 dry indeed, but retaining their beautiful lints, and 

 making really a very pretty ornament. An old 

 oaken chest, highly polished and waxed, set in a 

 corner, and over that a range of shelves stored with 

 quilts, comforts, coverlids, of many colors, the work 

 of the industrious household. The pillows were 

 bordered with fringed net work and the sheets as 

 white as the uritrod snow ; hut the bed itself, though 

 soft and pleasant, was made of potato vinfs. Either 

 from our fatigue, our'late and hearty supper, or 

 from our imagination being somewhat cxciteil, we 

 rested badly; the nightmare hroodcd over us; we | 

 dreamed that wc had turned into a big potato, and 

 that some one was digging us up. Perspiring, 

 struggling, we clenched the bed and finally leaped 

 up, gasping for breath. It was some time before 

 the horrid idea would quit us. In the morning, 

 owing to the drenching of the previous day, we 

 were an invalid, and threatened with fever and 

 sore throat. The kind old lady insisted on our re- 

 maining in bed, and she immediately bound a mash- 

 ed roa.sted potato, just from the ashes, moistened 

 with warm vinegar, to our nnck, and gave us pro- 

 fusely a hot tea, made of dried potato vines. These 

 applications acted like a charm, and with the addi- 

 tion of a few simples from the wood, were all the 

 remedial agents ever used by this happy family. 

 They could scarcely form a conception of a physi- 

 cian, such as we see hiiii here — riding day and 

 night — keeping half a dozen horses — following the 

 pestilence to enrich science with its spoils — at- 

 ter.ding the poor from charity — accumulating for- 

 tunes from the infirmities of the human family, but 

 not unfrequently losing life in the effort. The mis- 

 tress of the house had never known a fever, old as 

 she was ; — her blooming daughters looked incredu- 

 lous when we described the ravages of diseas(rin 

 other parts of the State, and certain it is that none 

 of them had ever before seen one the worse for 

 having rode six hours in wet clothes. When we 

 took leave of our kind friends, it was in vain that 

 we offered them compensation. They welcomed 

 us to every thing, and we set oflf with our pockets 

 filled with biscuit, jerked venison and potato chips, 

 a sort of crystalized preserve, steeped in syrup and 

 then dried in the sun." 



CAN SHE SPIN.' 



It is said that a young girl was once introduced 

 to King James I., and that the person who intro- 

 duced her, boasted of her proficiency in the ancient 

 languages. "I can assure your Majesty," said he, 

 "that she can bolh speak and write Latin, Greek, 

 and Hebrew." "These aie rare attainments for 

 a damsel," said the King, " but pray tell me, cnn 

 she spin ?" 



This is rather an important question to ask at 

 the present time, when music, dancing, painting, 

 &c. are considered the only requisites in the educa- 

 tion of young girls. They can paint, sing, dance, 

 but few, very few of them can spin, or perform any 

 of the simpler household duties. A painted doll 

 would, in most cases, make quite as good, profitable, 

 and economical a wife, as the great majority of 

 young women of the present day. A singing, 

 dancing, and par consequence an extravagant young 

 girl, may make a good wife fur a man of wealth, 

 who is not obliged to labor with his own hands for 

 his livelihood, but to the young merchant or me- 

 chanic, such an one would prove a constant source 

 of annoyance and a complete drain upon all that he 

 could acquire by honest industry. It is much more 



important to the nii^rchant and mechanic, that a 

 young woman should know how to spin (not street 

 yarn,) and perform all tho various household duties, 

 than that she .hould be ac<|uninted with the ancient 

 languages, possessing a smattering of the modern 

 also, »vith an imperfect knowledge of the fine arts. 

 Times are indeed strangely altered, and much 

 for the worse. It was once thought honorable to 

 toil in some useful avocation ; — there was a day 

 when labor was no disgrace ; when he or she who 

 worked hard for a livelihood, was not considered 

 an unfit associate of the wisest and best of the 

 land. But how different is the case now. It is a 

 disgrace to labor, even with the pen. .\ young 

 woman, especially if she is oi/ige(i to work, takes 

 every pains in her power to keep this fact conceal- 

 ed from the world, — she would not have it known ; 

 as in case it should be, she would lose caste with 

 her associates, and perhaps her friends. Most of 

 them tliink more of dressing up in the latest fash- 

 ion, with the dresses trailing upon the ground, 

 laced as tight as possible, sleeves pinching the 

 arm, and worst of all, with a most unsightly article 

 worn over the hips — they think much more of these 

 matters than of fitting themselves for wives or 

 mothers, and to fill their stations in society, when 

 the present generation shall have made their exit 

 from the stage. We wish they could be brought 

 to imitate the matrons of our Revolution ; — it 

 would be better for them, for the men of our coun- 

 try, if such could be the case — Bost. Daily Bee. 



Plaster. — Sometimes the increase of crop from 

 the use of this article has paid four or five times 

 the cost, and old pastures have been improved by it 

 so as to support twice the stock it had been accus- 

 tomed to do ; while in other cases it has had no 

 perceptible effect ; it would bo well, therefore, to 

 make the experiment cautiously, until it is ascer- 

 tained what are its real effects. 



In the British American Cultivator, a farmer 

 states, that on 12 acres of land that usually pro- 

 duced six tons of hay, by sowing four barrels of 

 plaster in May, 1837, he cut from it the same sea- 

 son 1.5 tons. He had applied plaster every year 

 since with great success, except the last, which 

 was unfavorable to grass on all soils, in consequence 

 of the drought. But he finds that plaster applied 

 in the spring to any kind ofgrain, although it causes 

 a good and quick growth, adds nothing to the crop 

 at harvest, nor does it ripen so well and uniformly. 

 — Far. Jour. 



Slf.ep. — " Blessings on him who first invented 

 sleep," said the immortal SanchoPanza; "it wraps 

 a man all about like a cloak." Never did grateful 

 heart utter a truer saying. What is like sleep? 

 As the rains of heaven, it comes to all — the rich 

 and poor, the healthy and sick, the happy and tin- 

 happy. It is a perfect leveller, knowing no dis- 

 tinctions, and making all classes and conditions 

 for awhile alike. Under its influence, the poor 

 forget thfir poverty, the rich their cares, tho well 

 their weariness, the sick their disease. The happy 

 wake from it to a keener enjoyment of life's plea- 

 sures — the unhappy forget in it that the world has 

 gone hard with them. Even to the criminal in his 

 cell, it brings an occasional cessation of the pangs 

 of conscience ot the dread of punishment. It alike 

 sustains and blesses life. God has denied it to 

 none, and what physical gift like it has he bestowed 

 upon our race .' Be grateful for it, and be prepared 

 for it when it comes for the last time — " the sleep 

 that knows no wakin?."— Con''"''' ^ 



