The Newberry herald and news. (Newberry, S.C.) 1884-1903, 1891-06-18

There are two considerable stre:ches
of original forest remaining ID uutcn
Fork, to indicate what was the natu-
raj appearance of the country IN the
far past. One of these is the tract OF
one hundred acres of superb oakland
that surrounds st. Johns church, ana
belongs to it;the other contains ABOUT III
teen acres of heavily timbered land, and
lies in front of the Pomaria residence
alta distance of three hundred yards
from, it. There are many other snail
remnants of primitive woods scattered
about, but they are not sufficiently ex-
tensive to aid the fancy in plctu1ng
the "boundless contiguity of shade"
that once extended so widely over this
fair region. When the white people,
following John Adam Summer came
into these wilds, they found that the
Indians had made few small clear
,sings. and had been cultivating them
rudely for the production Of a large
kind of grain, since time to which
their memory did not reach. Botanists
have given to this grain the natne'
Zea Maize, but in common language,
it is called Indian Corn, from the fact
that it was first found among these
Indians. They, however, must have
used it very sparingly, in the form OF
hominy ian Indian name, according TO
Webster), or by simply parchlng the
grains, since their little fields probably
did not yield all together more than
three hundred bushels. 1t is easy to
infer that the white settlers, acc,s-
toned, as they were, to eat bread with
their meat, and soon discontented with
ierke6 beef and vsnison" dried in the
sun or smoked in the chimney jamo,
speedily brought. into tillage much
larger fields. which under the plough
share yielded prodigious crops OF this
new grain, as we'll as of wheat, rye, and
barley: so that it was not long before
the face of the country beamed with
the smiles of civilization.
When we walk through such memo
rial remnants of woodland as l have
mentioned we sigh over the destruction
of the forests,-the desolations which
the natural strength of the soil has so
beautifully struggled to repair by means
ofthe old-feld pine; and We say within
ourselves: The os Ks have been need
lessly wasted!
The tiiling of the ground to supply
man with necessary bread would not
require the yeomanry of the Dutch
Fork, nor of any other section OF coun-
try, to destroy the vast areas of original
growth which we see to-day abandoned
to the broom-sedge, wherever nature
has failed to refocest the waste places
with the old-held pine. Nor would
there have been a necessity for any
prodigal clearing of land even by the
introduction of cotton, so long as the
young people for pastime separated
from the seed, with their fingers and
thumbs, sufficient lint to aid the fax
and the wool in supplying raiment for
the families; but when the cotton-gin
was patented in 1898 by Eli Whitney,
and gin-houses and screws were erected
all over the land to supply the world
with what had suddenly become a
great staple,-then, and not til then,
did the murderous attack upon the
glorious forests begin.
Before cotton came into use in the
Dutch Fork, fax and wool were the
materials from which ordinary cloth
ing was obtained, and altogether oy
domestic manufacture. The cloth
woven upon the simple primitive loom
was wonderfully durable. Toillustrate
this quality as we'll as to publish fine
moral, venture to introduce here this
Prose Song of q Shirt. When I was
eight years old they made me shirt
out of fiaxen cloth which had been i'm
perfectly bleached by being spread
several nights upon the grass. After
it had taken on the shape of a garment
it became as white as snow, through
repeated washings during my intimacy
with it, inasL .uch as every other Sab
bath for four years (from my eighth to
my twelfth) we wentto church together
in the closest companionship. Those
were the days of ruffied shirts; and this
one (made for me, the favorite of the
family had profusion of ruffies that
engendered pride in my young breast
pride which, like all other instances OF
it, had its fall. 1t happened in Colum-
bia, on my first visit to that city, and
when I was ten years old. The shirt
was done up in the best style, two days
before my departure. The rnff1es were
crimped most delicately, and were
starched so rigidiy for this occasion as
to stand out in front like the quadrant
of glistening circular saw. The shir
was carefully folded and placed in 6
time honored, blue bandbox, in which
it was to rest uudisturbed until the
morning of leaving camp (for I went
with the plantation wagon, when
was to be dressed in my ruffled shirt
my striped waistcoat, my jacket dice
brown in decoction Of walnut-bark
my copperas-hued breeches, and my
little straw hat. It was bright, hot
day in June. We had camped at th:
s'Forks of the Roads," the well-knowl
camping place for wagoners, about fiv'
miles from Columbia. The season TO
the cotton market was over; but w
bod ono he1e-tha last of the crOp-ll