Constitutional Whig

The late unparalleled rains—unparalleled in duration, for we believe there was not more than one day in a period of three weeks, in which rain did not fall in this city, and frequently in destructive torrents—seem to have pervaded most of the Atlantic states, inflicting a vast amount of damage.—Of Maryland and Pennsylvania, we read of much injury to the crops of wheat and hay, the wheat stacks in many fields having sprouted, and presenting a green and flourishing appearance.—In North Carolina, the Indian corn in many places was overwhelmed and destroyed. In the middle and tide water regions of Virginia, the wheat crop, small at best, has been much damaged, and the corn and tobacco especially on lands subject to overflow, also injured. A writer in the Petersburg Intelligencer, in Nottoway, says that but a small portion of the wheat was secured, and the remainder so much damaged as to be hardly worth transporting to market, which he seems to think is also true of the crop of Brunswick, Dinwiddie, Lunenburg and Amelia, and no doubt of many other counties.—

That writer, however, is not disposed to yield to despondency. He suggests the following expedients to repair the misfortune:

One alternative however is left us—We must begin in time to make a retrenchment in all of our expenses, which may be compatible with the necessaries and comforts of life, not to say luxuries.

First, we should mix less whiskey, brandy or wine, with our water.

Second, we should spend less time in reading newspapers, unless we can have better food and raiment sent us from Washington City.

Third, we should send into the field all of our hands except the old cook, dairy maid, and nurse.

Fourth, let us substitute four plough horses, for a pair of carriage horses.

Fifth, let us stay at home and exercise the masterly supremacy of our domestic affairs.

Sixth, let us not forget the parson.

I have no doubt if a strict adherence to the above half a dozen axioms be made, the close of the next Wheat harvest, will find us remunerated for the injury of our once promising crop.