^Drttral. 
EKMEMBEH THE SUFFERING. 
[A maiden, beautiful as the fabled Hourie of the 
East, has just entered her chamber to array herself 
for her birth-night festival, when she is surprised by 
a vision of Charity.] 
Beautiful Vision I 
From whence comest thou ? 
What is thy mission. 
What seek’st of me now ? 
Art thou an angel. 
Beauteous and bright. 
Sent to watch o’er me 
To-night — to-night? 
Yes, gentle maiden. 
My mission’s to thee. 
From the high arch of heaven, 
The storm-cloud so free — 
The homo of the blessed 
And spirits of light, 
Come I to thee 
To-night—to-night. 
Rain-drops are falling 
And v^nds murmur low ; 
The twilight is fading. 
It is evening now. 
The store are o’erclouded. 
The moon gives no light; 
My mission I’ll tell thee 
To-night—to-night. 
Maiden of Beauty I 
I gaze on thee now 
There's a smile on thy lip. 
No care shades thy brow ; 
Lov€>d ones are round thee 
To gladden thy sight — 
Oh 1 think of the suffering 
'To-night — to-night. 
Bright Summer Is gone ; 
Chill Winter is here 
With tempest and storm 
And winds bleak and drear. * 
Oh! think of the friendless 
Whose hopes once were bright, 
And forget not the outcast 
To-night— to-night. 
littrari] alI^l 3Ei0ctllanfDUif. 
From Chambers’ Edinburg Journal. 
THE K 0 A 0 R OF H0IV ES T Y. 
“When shall I get a new bonnet?” 
doubtfully soliloquised a yoimg girl, who, in 
a dismal back garret, where a great baby 
was sleeping, was despondingly considering 
her head gear, as she prepared to go out 
on Saturday evening. She might be ex¬ 
cused for reflecting on the subject; for the 
coarse straw bonnet — which had never 
been handsome — was now sunburat and 
dirty, and with its soiled and faded ribbon, 
looked hai-dly neat, though it had been 
carefully kept “ I declare I’m almost 
ashamed to go to church in it, it is .so dirty,” 
she continued, as she turned it round in her 
hand; “though may be it’s of a piece with 
my gown and .shawl; but come they’re not 
dirty neither. 1 wonder whether mother 
can spare me my wages this week ? Per¬ 
haps she can; 1 know she was sure of work 
last Saturday; well, we’ll see.” So saying 
she tied on the shabby bonnet, and care¬ 
fully folding up two shilling's, which she 
took from the window' ledge, she put them 
into her pocket; and giving a last glance at 
her little bed, to see that her baby bed-fel¬ 
low was safely tucked in, .she hurried out 
of the room, and out of the house, away on 
her weekly visit to her family. 
Bessie Abbott was a pretty, pleasant- 
looking girl of nearly eighteen, strong, ac¬ 
tive, and industrioiLS. She was the daugh¬ 
ter of a worthless man, and an excellent 
woman. The teachings of the latter had 
borne good fruit in Bessie, who, though only 
a drudge in the family of a little shopkeeper, 
was a neat a.nd excellent seiwant, {is fai' as 
her knowledge went; while her integrity 
imd good temper would have rendered her 
valuable in iiny situation. She was in the 
receipt of what she called the luindsome 
income of two shilling's a week, for which, 
with board and lodging, she did everything 
in lier cmployei'’.s house; for its mistress 
was constantly engaged in the shop, and 
left the whole care of her live children, as 
well as all the household work, to “ Pretty 
Bessie;” iind never was burthen laid on a 
more willing -ft'orker. Bessie’s father did 
little for the support of his household; he 
spent half his time, than half liis earnings, 
in the beer shop; and the little money left 
for his wife did hardly more than supply 
his board; sometimes, indeed, he even de¬ 
manded food when he had given no means 
of procuring it The burthen of the fami¬ 
ly of course fell wholly on his poor wife, 
who i\'as a quick and dexterous needlewo¬ 
man, and who w'{xs glad to obtain any spe¬ 
cies of work by which she might earn a lit¬ 
tle ; for her supply from the tailons, who 
were her usual employers, was not very 
reguhu', and sometimes failed altogether for 
a Sme. 
Bessie was the elde.st of a large family; 
the two next in cige to herseltj a boy and a 
girl of fifteen and thirteen, were both Avell 
placed, though neither could contribute to 
the family income; but there w'cre seven 
still younger, entirely dependent on their 
poor mother’s exertions. Such being the 
circumstances of the household, we need 
not wonder that a girl so aftectionate as 
Bessie should have felt very doubtful of the 
passibility of buying a new bonnet; for, un¬ 
like too many in her situation, she never felt 
that her money was her own if it were 
needed for her mother’s use, and was only 
liappy in the thought that she was enabled 
to contribute to that mother’s comfort; and 
in this respect her natural feelings were 
aided, by higher principles, implanted by 
Him who so severely censured the unfilial 
conduct of the professing Jews. 
As Bessie hurried along the streets to 
her mother’s house, which Avas on the other 
side of the town, she cast many a wistful 
glance tOAvards the displays of bonnets and 
ribbons in the shop windoAVS, and even 
paused once or tAvice to bestoAV particular 
admiration; nay, she Avent so far as to de¬ 
cide what shape she would buy, and how 
it should be trimmed, if she could but get 
the money for it; and she had strong hopes 
of being able to do this, because she knew 
her mother had been promised more Avork 
than she could accompli.sh for several weeks 
to come. At last Bessie reached her home, 
which was one ill-lighted room, Avith a dark 
closet adjoining, in a tumble-down old house, 
situated in one of the courts of a densely 
populated neighborhood, and tenanted by 
five or six families besides the Abbotts. It 
was home, however, and Bessie felt that it 
was so, as, after running up the tottering 
stairs, she opened the door of her mother’s 
room, which if not very comfortable, Avas 
at least veiy clean. 
“Oh, Bessie, Bessie!—here is Bessie!” 
cried a passe of little ones as she entered. 
“ Here is Bessie come, mother! Come to 
mother, Bessie; she’s crying!” and two of 
the young things seized their darling sister 
by the dress, and pulled her forward, as 
though at her coming their mother’s tears 
must dry. 
“ What is the matter, mother dear ?”— 
cried Bessie, frightened, as she approached 
a neat care-worn woman, who sat with her 
hands convulsively pressed together, and 
silent tears dropping fi*om her eyes, absorb¬ 
ed in hopeless distress. 
“ Bessie, Bessie, what shall Ave do ?” she ex¬ 
claimed, as her daughter knelt, and dreAV her 
arms round her; “ what Avill become of us ?” 
“ Oh, mother Avhat is the matter ? What 
has happened ?” returned Bessie, her own 
tears beginning to flow in sympathy and 
alarm. “ Oh, dear! I thought to find you 
all so comfortable to-night?” 
“ Ah, and so we might have been,” an- 
SAvered the mother in a tone of heiirt-bro- 
ken de.spondency — “ only for him — for 
your fiither, Bessie! Hoav could he do it ?” 
“Mother, mother, Avhat has he done?” 
exclaimed the terrified g'ii'l, all horrible vis¬ 
ions of crime starting up before her. 
“ He has taken aAvay my work, Bessie— 
my Avork that I hoped to get so much for 
—and he has paAATied it for drink — I don’t 
know Avhere; apd he beat me Avhen I beg¬ 
ged of him to tell me Avhere it av£is. And 
the master Avanted it, {ind I had’nt it for 
him; he Avas angry—and no Avonder; only 
it's hard upon me, Bessie. And he says 
the Avaistcoats arc Avorth tAVO pound.s, and 
he’ll have them, or their worth, if he takes 
my bed from under me. Then I OAve our 
landlord for a Ibrtnight's rent; for I did'ot 
pay last AA'cek, thinking I should be so mucli 
better off this. And I haven’t a penny in 
the house for the children’s food; they have 
been nigh famished as it is, for the Avaist¬ 
coats were almost the first Avork I did.— 
And noAv Avliore am I to look for money or 
Avork I don’ knoAv, or hoAV I am able to pay 
this dreadful debt; my poor little ones Avill 
all be starved about me. How long shall 
I bear it? And then to think Avho has 
brought {dl this upon me. Oh, Be.ssie, it 
almost breaks my heart ?” 
“ This is trouble indeed,” sobbed poor 
Bessie, as she lejint against her mother’s 
shoulder, “ I little thought of finding you 
like this, as I came {dong. But, mother 
dear, you mustn’t be quite cast doAvn; put 
your trust in your Heavenly Father, Avithout 
Avhose knowledge not a sparroAV falleth to 
the ground.” 
“ Ah, Bessie dear; but it’s hard to put 
such trusts in Him, when nothing but trouble 
is to be seen. I’m sure I ti-y; but it’s very 
hard, my child.” 
“Yes, it is hard, mother; yet who else 
shall Ave trust in ? And, mother, here are 
my Avages for to-day and to-morroAv, and 
Avho knoAVS Avhat Monday may bring ?— 
Aren’t Ave bid in such times £is these to 
take no thought for the morroAV, for suffi¬ 
cient unto the day is the evil thereof?” 
Mrs. Abbott pressed her child more 
closely, Avkhout reply, and those of her chil¬ 
dren Avlio were old enough to understand 
Avhat passed, gathered reverently round to 
listen to Bessie’s Avords, as she continued 
her attempts to console her mother. Nearly 
an hour passed in tliis manner, and at last 
Bessie’s earnest, hopeful persuasion so far 
prCA'ailcd on her mother, as to excite a feel¬ 
ing of trustful resignation; and with lighter 
heart the girl began the children’s Satur¬ 
day night’s ablutions, Avhile her mother Avent 
out to make the necessary purchases of 
food; and when on the return of the latter, 
the hungry little ones Avere regaled Avith a 
hirge piece of bread, trouble seemed for a 
while forgotten. HoAvever, Bessie, when 
she had, as she expressed it, “ cleared all 
up,” was obliged to depart; and after a 
tearful adieu, she Avas once more hurrying 
through the streets, which she had so lately 
traversed with such different feelings.— 
“ Bo{i.st not thyself of to-morrow,” she mused 
as she reached'her abode. “We may 
Avell always remember that; av'C little tho’t 
last w’cek Avhen we were so pleased about 
the work what trouble it would bring.” 
Sunday morning came, and the sound of 
pleasant bells; but to Bessie it differed 
from other mornings only as far as her own 
thoughts made a Sabbath around her, for 
she could not go out until evening; and she 
had even more to do on that day than on 
the other six, especially as her mistres.s, 
Avho rarely attended church herself, Avas al- 
Avays on hand to find fault Many Avere the 
sad thoughts she bestowed on her mother’s 
troubles during the day; and when at last 
she was able to set out for church, under 
strict injunctions to return immediately on 
the close of the service, she Avas depressed 
in spirits more than she had ever before 
felt in her life. 
The service came to a close, and Bessie 
in a quiet mind left the church, and slowly 
and thoughtfully walked homewai'ds. She 
was one of the last who came out; and 
she walked across the wide churchyard to 
the least frequented gate, she struck her 
foot against something, which yielded to her 
step, and returned a rattling sound. She 
stooped to pick up the object, and it proved 
a well filled purse; the bright beads and 
tassels glittered in the half light of an au¬ 
tumn evening, and its weight and rotundity 
shoAV'ed it Avell supplied. Bessie stood pos¬ 
itively breathless for a moment in the excess 
of her joy; she felt a dizzy rush in her 
head, and for a moment all surrounding ob¬ 
jects seemed to SAvim before her; tlien 
clasping her hands in a mute aspiration of 
thankfulness, she recovered full possession 
of her faculties, and began to examine the 
treasure. 
“One, two, three, four, fiA'e, six, seA'en!” 
she counted—“ seven pounds! Oh, to think 
of mother, hoAV' delighted she Avill be! — 
Why, this will pay all, and I can’t tell Avhat 
besides. Oh, hoAV happy I am! And Avhat 
is this ?” she continued, as she took from 
the other end a roll of soft paper. “ Why, 
these must be bank notes, like that mis’ess 
I gave change for once; Avhy, these must be 
Avorth I can’t tell hoAv much. Here are 
one, tAVO, three, four of them, and that one 
mis’ess got Avas Avorth five pound itself.— 
What shall avc do with so much money ?— 
I’ll read Avhat’s on these notes, however.” 
So, approaching a lamp just inside of the 
gate, she with some difficulty deciphered 
the {imounts of tlic notes, of Avhich tAvo Avere 
for fifty pounds, the other tAA’O respectively 
for five-and-tAvent^. “ It’s quite a fortune,” 
she murmured, in a Ioav reverential tone, as 
she tried to gi-asp the idea of so many 
pounds. “ What a happy thing for me, and 
hoAV sad for the person Avho lost it?”— 
Here the current of Bessie’s rapturous 
thoughts received a sudden check; the 
smile faded from her lips, and she remained 
silent looking on the pretty purse Avith a 
perplexity amounting to distre.s.s. “ Oh me, 
but it is not mine!” .she continued, her 
thoughts fin.ding vent in {i half-articulate 
form. “ 'i'h’s belongs to sonudoody, Avho is 
as sorry to lo.se it as I am pleased to find 
it. Oh, Avhiit must I do ? I Avish I had 
never seen it Must I give it up just Avhen 
Ave Avant it so ? And then it was lying in 
my Avay, and nobody near who could liave 
dropped it” 
Poor Bessie! the struggle between con- 
sci(;ncc and \A'{mt Avas vei-y severe. She 
tried h{vrd for a little Avhile to convince her¬ 
self tliat she had a right to what she found 
on a liighAvay, but her principles Avere too 
strong to alloAV of such self-deception; and 
besides, in testing the matter by the golden 
rule, she felt that if she had dropped her 
tAVO shilling's on the previous night, she 
should have been vei'y indignant Avith {iny 
finder ckiiming a right to them. “ No, I 
have no business Avith it indeed,” she mur¬ 
mured, as the tears of disappointment start¬ 
ed to her eye. “ But, however, surely I 
may keep just one or two of these pounds! 
The person who lost this must be very rich, 
and Avould never miss them; surely I may 
have just tAVO pounds for finding it, and that 
would put poor mother out of her trouble!” 
Just at this moment these Avords AV'hich she 
had lately heard, darted through her mind 
like a gleam of light, “ Thou, God, seest 
me!” “ Oh, Avhat am I thinking of?” she 
exclaimed, frightened by her OAvn thoughts: 
“ isn’t it all just one as stealing ? Let me 
put this out of my sight as soon {is I can, 
lest I should be too much tempted; I Avon’t 
keep it an hour.” So, resolutely concealing 
the temptation, Bessie set off at her quick¬ 
est pace to the police station, where she re¬ 
solved to deposit the money immediately, 
for the tAvo-fold purpose of securing her¬ 
self ag'{iinst temptation, and of affording the 
owner the best opportunity of recovering 
the lost property. When she told her er¬ 
rand to the officer at the station, he looked 
at her from head to foot with some sur¬ 
prise. 
“ So you didn’t think of keeping it your¬ 
self?” he {isked,-as he took the purse. 
“ Yes, sir, I did for a minute, for we want 
it bad enough,” replied Bessie Avith an in¬ 
genious blush; “but I was kept from it, 
thank God! There’s a deal of money there, 
sir; Avill you please to count it, that you may 
know, when it’s owned, that I took none ?” 
The officer counted it accordingly, and 
gave her a receipt for the amount, taking 
down her address at the same time, which 
she thought nothing about; then, with a 
thankful happy heart, and clear conscience, 
she hastened home. 
Frequently, during the labors of the next 
day, Bessie Avondered Avhether the owner 
of the purse had regained it, and pleased 
herself in imagining the pleasure its recov¬ 
ery must have caused. Then her thoughts 
sadly turned to her poor mother, and she 
Avould speculate on the possibility of her 
receiving a reAvard. Some one she kneAv 
had been reAvarded Avith ten shillings for 
finding a iive pound note; perhaps she 
might have a pound given her. HoAvever, 
she sedulously endeavored to Avithdi'aAv her 
thoughts from the subject, and occupied 
them in the attempt to devise some means 
of earning a little money in the family some¬ 
how, to carry them through this terrible 
crisis. So passed Monday, and Tuesday 
Avas p{issing in a similar manner. Bessie 
was busily W{ishing the kitchen floor — talk¬ 
ing to amuse the baby, who was tied on a 
chair in one corner of it, and thinking over 
a brilliant plan Avhich had just occurred to 
her, of proposing one of her brothers as 
errand-boy to the grocer round the comer, 
when her mistress looked in, and sharply 
said some one w{mted to speak to her. In 
great haste and surprise Bessie started up, 
and as quickly as possible wiped her wet 
hands, threw off her apron, settled her 
gown {ind cap, and hurried into the shop, 
Avhere she found a middle aged gentleman, 
of very pleasant demeajior, leaning care¬ 
lessly against the counter. He turned as 
she entered, and advanced a step as she 
courtesyed and looked, {is if to inquire the 
object of his visit. 
“ Your name is Elizabeth Abbott?” he 
asked; “ is it not ?” 
“Yes, sir,” Avas Bessie’s reply. 
“ You found a purse on Sunday night, I 
believe ?” 
“Yes, sir,” she replied, coloring as she 
spoke. “ Did it belong to you, sir ? Did 
you get it ? I hope it Avas all right, sir! 
1 got a note of the money at the police,” 
continued Bessie, speiiking rapidly, and as 
if luilf frightened; for just then she only 
remembered the possibility of some money 
being missing, Avhich might be demanded 
of her. 
“Oh yes, all was right,” reuirned the 
gentleman, smiling. “ I only come to see 
Avhat made you return my purse so hon¬ 
estly {ind quickly. Were you not in want 
of money ?” 
“Oh, indeed, sir, yes!” she emphatically 
replied, as tears filled her eyes; “ but that 
money Avas not ours.” 
“ Perhaps you were afraid to keep it, 
lest it should be discovered ?” continued 
her interrogator, looking earnestly at her, 
as a deep crimson flush rose even to her 
forehead. 
She niised her eyes to his boldly, though 
modestly, as she ansAvered in all the firm¬ 
ness of truth, “ Sir, I never thought of that 
But I Avould not be so misenihle as theft 
Avould m{ike me, for as much again as is in 
yo nr purse, sir!” / 
“That is Avell, that is Avell,” quietly re-| 
plied the gentleman Avith a satisfied smile. 
“ Noav you say you Avant money very much; 
I came here to offer you a roAvard for the 
return of my purse. How much would 
you Avish me to give you. 
Oh, sir,” exclaimed poor Bessie in a 
transport of delight, clasping her hands — 
“ oh, thank }'0U! th{ink you ! Tavo pounds, 
sir, if you could be so kind, Avould make us 
all happy {ig'{xin!” 
“ It Avould not be buying happiness very 
de{irly,” ansAvered the stranger, “but let 
me hear Avluit you AA'Ould do Avith the tAvo._, 
pounds.” 
Accordingly Bessie related lier simple 
little history as the reader knows it At 
the conclusion, her attentive listener smiled 
kindly. “You are a good girl, Besssie,” he 
said. “Well, the reward I shall give you is 
tAventy pounds instead of two. I had de¬ 
termined upon this if I Avere satisfied Avith 
your ansAvei-s.” 
Bessie Avas 'speechless in grateful aston¬ 
ishment 
“ Yes, it is a little fortune for you,” s{iid 
the gentleman ansAvering her look. “ You 
will of course relieve your mother from her 
troubles, and you had better put the rest 
in the Savings’ Bank, and ti'y to add a 
little to it, as a provision in case of need.” 
So saying, the gentleman produced the 
same identical beaded purse, and counted 
twmnty sovereigns into Bessie’s hand, Avho 
could only look her thanks; and he then 
Avent and Bessie hurried up to her little 
room to give vent to her grateful happiness, 
thinking how different Avould have been 
her feelings had she otherwise acted. 
I need not make my stoiy longer by de¬ 
scribing the joy excited by her next visit 
to her home — hoAv the debt was paid — 
and hoAv one pound more was devoted to 
the purchase of sundry articles of comfort 
and decency (amongst Avhich Bessie’s bon¬ 
net was not forgotten)— and hoAv the re¬ 
maining pounds were safely deposited.— 
But I must not omit to iidd, that the gen¬ 
tleman whose acquaintance Bes.sie had so 
happily made, did not forget her. Though 
his residence was many miles distant from 
hers, she was shortly afterw'iirds taken into 
his family as nurse, wdiich post she filled in 
comfort and respectability for many ye{ir.s, 
carefully impressing upon the minds of her 
young charges the same principles which 
governed her own. 
^ontli’s Cmiitr. 
‘ ‘ Look to the end, nor stand to doubt, 
Nothing 80 hard but search will find it out.' 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
BT MISS F. C. W. 
I am composed of 28 letters. 
My 1, 4, 16, 21, 28 is the name of a river in Europe. 
My 3,12,16, 21, 23,2, 21 is a county in N. Y. State. 
My 2, 21, 27, 17, 9,16,11 is a lake in the U. States. 
My 20, 13, 12, 24, 21, 11,16, 6 is one of the United 
States. 
My 10, 2, 21, 6, 25, 17, 21, 3, 5 is a lake in Switz¬ 
erland. 
My 2, 4, 16, 11 is one of the States of the Union. 
My 21, 2, 9, 25, 4 is a sea near Europe. 
My 7, 17, 15, 26, 6 is a river in Europe. 
My 15, 8, 21, 14, 22, 8, 28 is a river in the State of 
New York. 
My 6, 22, 21, 5, 3,17 is a lake in the State of New 
York. 
My 8, 7, 21, 17 is a volcano in Europe. 
My 10, 4, 24, 21, 17 is a country in Asia. 
My 10, 4, 17, 9, 12, 28, 22 is a cape on the coast of 
the United States. 
My 17, 21, 6, 2, 21 is a county of North Carolina. 
My 15, 8, 21, 2,12 is a city in Italy. 
•My 9,17, 12, 5, 16,15, 4 is a city in North Carolina. 
My 3, 4, 9, 16, 22, 7, 24, 17, 21,17 is a city in Nor¬ 
way. 
My 21, 16,15, 8, 9 is a river in Africa. 
My 3,17, 24,9, 2 is a city of Africa. 
My 17, 27, 4, 8, 21, 6 is an ancient city of Greece. 
My whole is an institution in Western New York. 
Answer in two weeks. 
CHARADE. 
When man, with false ambition fired, 
Proud leadership assumes ; 
And is by anarchists admired, 
Tho’ deck’d in flimsy plumes. 
Of my First he advocates the cause. 
And tramples on hie country’s laws. 
My Second loosed, in quest of prey. 
Is gentler in his mood ; 
Than fierce sedition on its way 
To glut its taste for blood. 
And is far easier turn’d aside. 
Than malice, envy, strife, and pride. 
’Gainst men who speciously instil 
My Whole into the mind; 
’I’ill the infectious virus fill 
Each heart to ill inolined; — 
May each one make a noble stand, 
And God preserve our Fatherland ! 
[O’Answer in two weeks. 
ARITHMETICAL ODDITIES. 
Can you so arrange four 9’s that they shall count 
or equal 100 ? Arrange four I’s so that they shall 
equal 12. Can you place the 9 figures so that they 
shall count or equal 80 when added ? Can you take 
one from nineteen and leave twenty ? 
PROBLEM. 
.4. and B. start a fishing. A. h.as 5 loves of broad, 
and B. has 3. They are joined by C., who shares 
the bread equally witli them, and pays them one 
dollar for his share of the bread. How shall A. and 
B. divide the money, all having eaten equally of 
the bread ? 
m/’Answer in two weeks. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma m No. 10.— 
Auburn Thkoi.ogical Seminary. Answered by 
A. I. B., Josephine, and L. C. D. 
Answer to Astronomical Enigma in No. 10.— 
Serbentarius Vel Ophiuciius. Answered by 
Miss M. Sperry, of Chili, and Josephine, of Roch¬ 
ester. __ _ 
Answer to Poetical Enigma in No. 10.-—The 
letter II. Answered by A. I. B., and Josephine. 
Answers to Mathematical Questions in No. 10—^ 
I. Lyman Kingsbury, of Verona, has sent a capital 
Algebraic solution to the first mathematical question, 
which from its length wo are obliged to omit. An¬ 
swer: 19 cows, 80 geese, 1 sheep. 
No. 2. IX is I of six, 
VII is ^ of XII, 
IV is i of five, 
VI is i of XI. 
No. 3.—13,346 balls. 
MOORE’S RlIJRAL NEW-YORKER, 
published every THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprieter. 
Publication Office in Burns’ Block, [No. 1, 2d floor,] 
comer State and Buflalo streets. 
Terms, in Advance: 
Two Dollars a Year — $1 for six months. To 
Clubs and jigents as follows: —Four Copies for $7; 
Seven Copies for $12; Ten Copies for $15. All 
moneys received by mail will be acknowledged in 
the paper, and receipts sent whenever desired. 
It is not required that all papers in a club 
should be directed to one person, or sent to one post 
office. We will address as desired, and to as many 
different offices as may be necessary. 
Post-Masters, Clergymen, Teachers, Officers and 
Members of Agricultural Societie.s, and other influ¬ 
ential persons, of nil professions —friends of Mental 
and Moral as well as of Agricultural Improvement — 
are respectfully solicited to obtain and forward sub¬ 
scriptions to the New-Yorker. 
[Jj’ Subscription money, properly enclosed, may 
be sent by mail at our risk. 
TERMS OF ADVERTISING: 
A limited number of approjiriate advertisements 
will be inserted in the New-Yorker, at the rate of 
50 cents per square (twelve lines or less,) for the first 
insertion, and 25 cents for eacli subsequent publica¬ 
tion. Casual advertisments to he paid for in advance. 
Advertisements not accompanied with special direc¬ 
tions, will — at the option of the Publisher,— be in¬ 
serted until forbid, and charged accordingly. 
O’ Notices relative to Meeting, &c. of Agricul¬ 
tural, Horticultural, Mechanical and Educational 
Associations, published gratuitously. 
Pahlishing Agents 
WHO Vi^lLL RKCEIVK SUCSCRUTIO.NS, A.ND SCUNISU COI’liiS 
OF TUB RURAL NEW-YORKKR; 
ELON COMSTOCK, Rome, N. Y. 
Mr. C. is also general agent for Oneida County, 
T. S. HAWKS, BuflUlo. 
1. R. TREMBLY, Dansville, 
O’ Also Agent for Naples and Hornellsville. 
8TEAM PRE88 OF A. STRONG <k 00. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
