APPLE MOLASSES. years, the posts rotting off in that time; and per- | farmers, involving as it does nearly twenty per haps fifteen years may be set down as about the cent. of their sales, and in some cases perhaps all ordinary duration of a wood fence, let the method their profits. of construction be what it may. This single fact should cause farmers and land owners to pause, and ask, where their fences are to come from, when their present, and perhaps already half decayed, worn fences are rotten and gone? We are convinced, that ere many years, want of fence will be one of the most serious evils the farmer will be called to encounter. SELLING GRAIN. Gen. Farmer. WE think there can be little doubt that in most cases the best time by far for the farmers to dispose of their surplus produce is after the harvest and before the closing of the canal. When there is much sowing to be done, as there usually is in western New York, the disposing of one crop must give way to the preparations for another, even at the risk of a little loss; but when there is difficulty in the way, nine times out of ten, loss is sustained by not disposing of the crop in the fall. There are conclusive reasons why this must be the case admitting the prices are the same in the fall of one year, and the summer of the succeeding one. THERE is many a good housewife, who has more faith in her own experience, than in the science of chymistry, that knows not the value of Apple Molasses; but still believes it to be the same kind of tart, smoky, worthless stuff, that has from time immemorial, been made by boiling down cider. It is not within my province, at this time, to attempt to convince such that there is a chymical difference, though it might easily be shown, that would, however, invite them to lay aside their they are almost as different as sugar and vinegar. cider this year, and try the plan of boiling down the juice of the apple that has not been exposed to the air by grinding and pressing. I Wetherill's sweeting apples in two large brass Last autumn I placed a number of bushels of when they boiled soft, I turned them into a new kettles, with water just sufficient to steam them; splinter basket, containing some straw, and placed on them a barrel head, and a heavy weight. The until I had juice enough to fill the kettles, when juice was caught in a tub. This was repeated The shrinkage and waste of grain when kept strictly, frequently skimming it, till it became of I commenced boiling it down, and attended to it over the winter may be mentioned as the first the consistence of cane molasses. The native source of loss to the farmer. Farmers in gener-acids of the fruit imparted a peculiar flavor, otheral are not aware of the deficiency created by these wise it could hardly be distinguished from the two causes. Experiments carefully conducted sirup of the cane. It was used in my family for have shown that the shrinkage alone in wheat, corn and barley, in the course of the year, that is from making sweetmeats, for sweetening pies, for dressthe time it is marketable at harvest, till harvesting on puddings and griddle cakes, and a variety of other purposes. The cost of making it is very comes again, is full five per cent.; and the loss from handling, by mice, &c., has been estima- trifling, and the means are within the reach of every ted at nearly as much more. That the loss from both causes will not fall short of ten per cent. in the course of the year can ly be doubted, and it certainly will not be less in the case of peas and oats. In addition to this sum lost by shrinkage, &c., there is that occasioned by not having the use of the money for which the wheat or other grain would have sold for in the fall, and this, if a year intervene, would be seven per cent more. scarce Let us see what the farmer who has one hundred bushels of wheat to sell in October loses by keeping it till July, or nine months, allowing prices to be the same. By selling in October he gets one hundred and fifty dollars, when the wheat is one dollar and fifty cents a bushel, and the interest of this sum for nine months, seven dollars eighty-seven cents, making one hundred and fiftyseven dollars, eighty-seven cents, for his wheat. If he keeps his wheat nine months, and sells at the same price he could have got in the fall, he loses the shrinkage, &c., amounting to eleven dollars, twenty-five cents, and to this must be added the interest on what he might have got in the fall, making together no less than nineteen dollars, twelve cents, on one hundred bushels of wheat. If we have erred in this calculation, or if there is proof that the shrinkage and loss be less than we have stated, we shall be happy to be set right, as this is a matter of no trifling importance to our farmer. RHUBARB. Ohio Farmer. THIS excellent plant which should have a place in every garden, is very easily raised, requiring nothing more than a rich loamy situation. It is an orchard in miniature, the stems of its leaves affording a substance which is an excellent substitute for apples, to make sauce or pies. The sauce made from it, is very wholesome and palatable, and will be a good preventive of bowel complaints. It is said that by stewing it with sugar and preparing it in the same manner as for the table, it may be bottled and corked up tight and preserved till winter. Indeed, we cannot see why it may not be kept as long as apple sauce, or any of the berries that are preserved in this Some of our way, without being bottled up. good housewives, had better try the experiment Maine Farmer. THE following extracts are from the "Travels in America," &c. by CHARLES AUGUSTUS MURRAY, and noticed in our last number: A PAWNEE DANDY. I have seen some dandies in my life-English, Scotch, French, German, ay, and American dandies too; but none of them can compare with the vanity or coxcombry of the Pawnee dandy. Lest stripes of vermillion, and sometimes twisted a few feathers into his tail. He then put into his mouth an oldfashioned bridle bought or stolen from the Spaniards, from the bit of which hung six or eight steel chains, about nine inches long; while some small bells, attached to the reins contributed to render the movements of the steed as musical as those of the lovely "Sonnante," in the incomparable tales of Comte Hamilton. All things being now ready for the promenade, he threw a scarlet mantle over his shoulders; thrust his mirror in below his belt; took in one hand a large fan of wild goose feathers, to shield his fair and delicate complexion from the sun; while a whip hung from his wrist, having the handle studded with brass nails. Thus accoutred, he mounted his jingling palfrey, and rambled through the encampment, envied by all the youths less gay in attire, attracting the gaze of the unfortunate drudges who represent the gentler sex, and admired supremely by himself. A BRILLIANT WOODLAND SCENE. any of the gentry claiming this distinction, and belonging to the abovementioned nations should doubt or feel aggrieved at this assertion, I will faithfully narrate what passed constantly before my eyes in our own tent, namely, the manner in which Sa-ní-tså-rish's son passed the days on which there was no buffalo hunt. He began his toilet, about eight in the morning, by greasing and smoothing his whole person with fat, which he rubbed afterward perfectly dry, only leaving the shin sleek and glossy; he then painted his face vermillion, with a stripe of red also along the centre of the crown of the head; he then proceeded to his coiffure, which received great attention, although the quantum of hair demanding such care was limited, inasmuch as the head was shaven close, except one tuft at the top, from which hung two plaited "tresses." (Why must I call them pigtails?") He then filled his ears, which were bored in two or three places, with rings and wampum, and hung several strings of beads round his neck; then, sometimes painting stripes of vermillion and yellow upon his breast and shoulders, and placing armlets above his elbows and rings upon his fingers, he proceeded to adorn the neth- ON the second day of my arrival (on Grant er man with a pair of mocassins, some scarlet River, near Dubuque) it rained without ceasing, cloth leggins fastened to his waist belt, and bound and there was no wind; so that there was little round below the knee with garters of beads four chance of sport. At night the weather changed inches broad. Being so far prepared, he drew suddenly, and a severe frost ensued. On the folout his mirror, fitted in a small wooden frame lowing morning I went out soon after dawn to (which he always, whether hunting or at home, enjoy the fresh air, and the bright beams of a carried about his person) and commenced a course young sun. I never shall forget the beauty of of self-examination, such as the severest disciple that woodland scene. Every "herb, tree, fruit, of Watts, Mason, or any other religious moralist, flower," glistened with dew, and not only with never equalled. Nay more, if I were not afraid dew, but with the rain of the previous day, frozen of offending the softer sex by venturing to bring into the most bright and shining crystals, reflectman in comparison with them in an occupation ing according to their forms, the various prismatic which is considered so peculiarly their own, I hues with which they were impregnated by the would assert that no female creation of the poets, solar rays. Neither the pencil of the painter nor from the time that Eve first saw "that smooth the pen of the poet could convey a representation watery image," till the polished toilet of the love of the resplendent brilliancy of Nature's spangled ly Belinda, ever studied her own reflected self mantle of ice on that lovely morning. The anwith more perseverance or satisfaction than this cient forest looked like one of those great Pawnee youth. I have repeatedly seen him sit, crystalline palaces, created by the fertile imaginafor above an hour at a time, examining his face tion of Ariosto; and a northern Armida might in every possible position and expression; now have made her bower among the fantastic yet frowning like Homer's Jove before a thunder- graceful vines which hung from the spreading storm, now like the same god described by Milton, arms of the forest trees; every curl of their "smiling with superior love;" now slightly vary-leafy tresses" terminating in resplendent icicles. ing the streaks of paint upon his cheeks and fore-I have seen, in the court of the sovereign, and in head, and then pushing or pulling "each particu- some of the assemblies of British fashion, the lar hair" of his eyebrows into its most becoming place! brow, the neck and the waist of beauty, adorned with diamonds of inestimable value; shining and Could the youth have seen anything in the mirror brilliant they were, too-but oh! how far less half so dangerous as the features which the glassy bright and lustrous than those with which the wave gave back to the gaze of the fond Narcissus, humblest bush, or shrub, was decked on this loveI might have feared for his life or reason; but, ly morning by the icy breath of winter! I could fortunately for these, they had only to contend not help calling to mind one of those passages, with a low receding forehead, a nose somewhat in which the Divine Moralist and Legislator resimous, a pair of small sharp eyes, with high proves the vanity of man: "Look at the lilies cheek bones, and a broad mouth well furnished of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin; with a set of teeth, which had at least the merit yet Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed of demolishing speedily everything, animal or like one of these!" vegetable that came within their range. His toilet thus arranged to his satisfaction, one of the women or children led his buffalo horse before the tent; and he proceeded to deck his steed by painting his forehead, neck, and shoulders, with St. Paul exhorts to pray without ceasingHabitual piety is ceaseless prayer. Ir is an error to condemn pleasures merely as such they may be innocent as well as criminal. RESIDENCES OF THE PRESIDENTS. views of the Residences of the Presidents of the tion which took place at Quincy in September The following notice of an interesting celebralast, we copy from one of our public journals. tled in 1630, has been transmitted from father to THE OLD CHURCH AT QUINCY, MASS.-The two son through successive generations till the pres- hundredth anniversary of the gathering of this ent time. And it is a remarkable fact that the Church was celebrated a few days since, and apprinciples of civil and religious freedom which pears to have been an occasion of great interest, the original settler maintained, have been handed though as it fell on the sabbath, few ceremonies down in in all their purity, unscathed by colonial difficulties and the storm of the Revolution. No name has so long stood conspicuous in the annals of our Republic, as that of Adams, and we now view one who was the son of a President, and a President himself, actively engaged as a legislator in the inferior branch of our country's coun cils. were observed. A Discourse was delivered by the Rev. Mr. Lunt, junior pastor of the society, a hymn furnished by the Hon. J. Q. Adams, one of the members, &c. The exercises were in fact on the simple plan of those observed one century before, when the Rev. John Hancock, father of the illustrious patriot of the Revolution, was the sole pastor of this venerable church. This gentleman's ministry lasted from 1726 to 1745. The present senior incumbent, Mr. Whitney, has occupied his situation about forty years. Many circumstances correspond to give interest to this commemoration. Mount Wollaston, as Quincy was first called, was settled as early as 1625, five years only after Plymouth, and five before Boston; and it is supposed to have been the first permanent settlement in the Massachusetts Colony. Great names too are connected with this humble institution. We are told by the Boston Register that among the early baptismal records of the century now closed, is written the name of 'John, son of John Adams,' It was Samuel Adams who, in connexion with John Hancock and a few other choice spirits, first carried into execution the design of resisting British oppression and of lighting an altar-fire of civil and religious liberty in the western hemisphere. And John Adams, the father of the present occupant of the mansion, was one of the most active and influential men during our revolutionary struggle. He took an active part in his native state, in the events which there transpired in first opposing the usurpations of Great Britain; and, when the Colonies united in a bond of holy union for the protection of their dearest interests, JOHN ADAMS was foremost in the general Congress a name which has been since deeper written in the as a firm patriot and inflexible friend of republi- history of our nation and in the hearts of men. The church counts him among her sons-his facan principles. He was the man who nominated ther waited at her table; and he was at his death Washington to the post of Commander-in-chief of her oldest member. Rarely was he absent from the American armies, and was one of the com- the services of the Sabbath, and he now lies bemittee chosen to draft the Declaration of Inde-neath the stone Temple which his munificence pendence. Next after Washington he was chosen endowed, and which but lately has risen, a conPresident of the new Republic, and through a necting link between the centuries which have long life was honored and beloved by his country- gone and the future. Inscribed on the same recmen. Just fifty years to a day after the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, he and his fellow committee-man, Thomas Jefferson, resigned up their spirits to the God who gave them, and the last words that fell from his dying lips were, INDEPENDENCE FOREVER! ords, and from the pen of the same pastor, is the name of "John Hancock my son." Again, it appears that from this ancient church in July, 1767, John Quincy Adams received the sign of baptism, and on the list of her communicants his name is enrolled. Thus has this little Society, founded in feebleness, nurtured in its JOHN Q. ADAMS has also been actively engaged bosom two of the Presidents of the Union, and in public life from earliest manhood, and in the the President of that glorious body which issued brilliant career he has run, has honorably sustain- the Declaration of American Independence. To ed the noble character of his lineage-noble not these names may be added that of QUINCY also, hardly less distinguished. Edmund, the progenby ancestral heraldric bearings and titled names,itor of all that race, was one of the earliest membut for public and private worth, and every virtue bers and founders of this Church. which constitutes the character of the patriot and Those of our readers familiar with the accuschristian. His life is now in the "sere and yellow tomed observances of our New England brethren |