MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
^Joriiral. 
THE PLOW AHD THE SICKLE. 
With the pioneer nxe whn* n conquest 1« made j 
Wh.it n field f om the forest is won ! 
What repions reduced from ihe wilderness shadCt 
Are DOW warmed in the beams of the tun ! 
From the rock where our fathers in exile firtUanded, 
Their clearing from river to river has sjwad: 
And inountninH and plains by their sons arc comraanderi, 
I'ill now on the beach of Pacific we tread. 
What a fann for a nation to cultivate now ! 
And gather the wonderful harvest it yields ; 
’Tis an empire reduced to the sickle and plow. 
An empire of gardens, and orchards, and fields. 
Hail, nation of fanners! rejoice in your toil. 
And thoul when your harve-t is o er; 
Eeccive the oppre.-sed to your land with a sniMc; 
But frown every foe from your iron bound shoro. 
The plow .and the sickle elmll shine bright in glory. 
When tbe ndtre and sceptre shall crumble in rust t 
Ajid the fhrmcr shall live, i>oth in song and in story. 
When biehO])8 and kings arc forgotten in dust. 
lituari] aiib Biisttllanwiis. 
THAT HOLE IN THE POCKET. 
( In this lies the true secret of economy— 
j the care of sixpences. Many people throw 
j them away without remorse or considera- 
I tion—not reflecting that a penny a day is 
? more than three dollars a year. We would 
I complain loudly if a tax of that amount were 
S laid upon us; but when we come to add all 
< that we uselessly tax ourselves for our pen- 
) ny expenses, we shall find that we waste in 
i this way annually quite enough to supply a 
< family with winter fuel 
( It is now about a year since my wife said 
} to me one day, “ Pray, Mr. Slack water, 
> have you that half dollar about you that 1 
S gave you this morning?” I felt in my 
< waistcoat pocket, and I felt in my breeches 
I pocket, and I turned my purse inside out, 
) but it was all empty space—which is verj^ 
s difierent from specie; so I said to Mrs. 
( Slackwater, “I’ve lost it, my dear; positive- 
) ly, there must be a hole in my pocket!” — 
b * i’ll sew it up,” said she. 
< An hour or two after, I met Tom Steb- 
) bins. “How did that ice-cream set!” said 
> Tom. “ It set,” said I, “ like the sun, glo- 
( riously.” And, as I spoke, it flashed upon 
( me that my missing half dollar had paid 
) for^those ice-creams; however, I held my 
s peace, for Mrs. Slackwater sometimes makes 
I remarks; and, even when she assured me at 
/ the breakfast table next morning that* there 
) was no hole in my pocket, what could I do 
< but lift my brow and say, “ Ah! isn’t there! 
^ really!” 
p Before a week had gone by my wife, who 
^ like a dutiful helpmate as she is, always 
( gave me her loose change to keep, called 
j for a twenty-five cent piece that had been 
) deposited in my sub-treasury for safe keep- 
\ ing; “there was a poor woman at the 
? door,” slie said, “ that she’d promised it to 
; for certain.” “ Well, wait a moment,” I 
I cried; so I pushed inquiries first in this di- 
l rection, and that, and then in the other; but 
) vacancy returned a horrid groan. “ On my 
> soul,” said 1, thinking it best to show a bold 
\ front, “you must keep my pockets in bot- 
< ter repair, Mrs. Slackwater; this piece, with 
> I know not how many more, is lost, because 
I some corner or seam in my plaguey pock- 
< efe is left open.” 
? “ Are you sure ?” said Mns. Slackwater. 
) “Sure! ay, that lam it’s gone!” My 
I wife dismissed her promise, and then, in her 
! quiet way, asked me to change my panta¬ 
loons before I went out, and to b^r all argu¬ 
ment, laid another pair on my knees. 
That evening allow me to remark, gen- 
tleracn of the species “ husband,” I was 
very loath to go home to tea; I had half a 
mind to bore some bachelor friend, and 
when hunger and habit, in their unassum¬ 
ing manner, one on each side walked me up 
to my own door, the touch made my blood 
run cold. But do not think Mrs. Slackwa¬ 
ter is a Tartar, my good friends, because I 
thus shrunk from home; the fact was that I 
had while abroad, called to mind the fate of 
her twenty-five cent piece, which I had in¬ 
vested in smoke—that is to say, cigars; and 
I feared to think of her comments on my 
pantaloons pockets. 
These things went on for some months; 
we were poor to begin with, and grew poor¬ 
er, or at any rate no richer fast. I'imes 
grew worse and worse. At length, one day 
( my wife came in with a subscription paper 
j for tlio Orphan’s Asylum. I looked at it 
I and sighed, and picked my teeth, and shook 
■ my head and handed it back to her. 
^ “ Ned Bowen,” said she, “has put down 
ten dollars.” 
J “ The .more shame to him,” I replied.— 
< “ He can’t afford it; he can but just scrape 
) along any how, and in these times it ain’t 
) right for him to do it” 
; My wife smiled.in her sad way, and took 
^ the paper back to him that brought it. 
; The next evening she asked me if I would 
go with her and see the Bowens, and as I 
I had no objections, we started. 
( I knew that Ned Bowen did a small busi- 
( ness that would give him about $600 a 
i year, and I thought it would bo worth while 
\ to see what that sum would do in the way 
( of house-keeping. We were admitted by 
j Ned, and welcomed by Ned’s wife. All 
( was as nice as wax, and jet as substantial 
( as iron; comfort was wi’itten all over the 
( room. 
The evening passed, some how or other, 
though we had no refreshment, an article 
which we never have at home, but always 
want elsewhere, and I returned to our own 
establishment with mingled pleasure and 
cliagrin. 
“ What a pity,” said I to my wife, “that 
Bowen don’t keep within his income.” 
“ He does,” she replied. 
“ How can he on $600 ?” was my an¬ 
swer; “if he gives ten dollars for charity 
and live dollars to that, and live so sung 
and comfortable too?” 
“ Shall 1 tell you ?” said Mrs. Slackwater. 
“ Certainly, if you can.” 
“His wife,” said my wife, “finds it just 
as easy to do without $20 or $30 worth of 
ribbons and laces, as to buy them. They 
have no fruit except wdiat they raise and 
have given them by country friends, whom 
they repay by a thousand little acts of kind¬ 
ness. lie buys no cigars, or ice-creams, or 
oranges, at twelve cents a piece, or new 
novels—in short, my dear Mr. Slackwater, 
he has no liole in his pocket,” 
It was the first word of suspicion my wife 
had uttered on the subject, and it cut me 
to the quick! Cut me? I should rather 
s iy itsewtd mo up, and my pocket®, t)o; 
they never have been in holes since that 
time. 
THE BILL PAID. 
BY UlLUK MILD. 
Medical students may be proverbially 
“ hard cases,” for aught we know. Yet it 
cannot be denied, that few are more benev¬ 
olent and kind-liearted than these same 
hard cases are. It may be because they 
witne.ss so much suffering and distress, that 
they become accustomed, as it were, to 
scenes from wliich at first they turned away, 
unable to witness. 
A few years ago we happened to be in 
the company of a number of students, from 
one of whom we heard the following story: 
It was on a cold Christmas mornino;, in 
the year 18—, a medical student, who 1 
will call Rudder, was proceeding on his way 
to meet some fellow -students in the beau¬ 
tiful little village of Richmond, wdiere for¬ 
getting books and studies, they intended to 
spend the anniversary of the day which 
brought peace and good will to men. As 
he was passing through one of tliose nar¬ 
row streets in the northern part of the citj", 
he met a small girl, weeping as if her heai-t 
would break. The crowd passed on witli- 
out noticing her; but when the poor stu¬ 
dent saw her, his lieart was touched, and 
he could not pass without enquiring the 
cause of her grief. 
“ Oh, sir,” she answered him, “ it is not 
for myself I care, but mother is so sick, and 
she sent me to the tailor for whom she 
works, hut he would not pay me.” 
“Where does your mother live?” he 
asked, after he had listened to her plain 
story. The little girl led him into a small 
house, where lay a sick woman laboring 
under great debility, and rapidly sinking 
for want of proper nourishment 
Ever and anon could be lieard the laugh 
of passers-by, clad in furs and well protect¬ 
ed from the keen blasts of Boreas, as they 
joined in the merry-making of that festive 
day—and the sick woman would sigh as 
their merry laugh fell upon her ears. It 
may be, her mind reverted to her happier 
days. Such thoughts will often steal upon 
the distressed, however much they guard 
themselves against them. 
“ I Avill get you some medicine which I 
hope will do you good,” said the student 
“ But no matter about that,” said he, know¬ 
ing full well what she was about to say.— 
No matter, you can pay me when you get 
money enough to spare,” and without wait¬ 
ing to hear any objections on her part he 
wished her a good day, promising to cal! 
soon again. So much time had elapsed, 
while the student was tlius engaged, that it 
was too late to meet his friends, as at start¬ 
ing in the morning he had intended. 
Every morning a supply of food and 
medicine was sent to the poor woman, who, 
under proper nourishment, rapidly improv¬ 
ed until convalescent; and every day did 
the student wend his W'ay to his patient, to 
inquire how she did. 
The commencement of the University 
took place, and Rush Rudder received a di¬ 
ploma with honor. Time rolled on, and Mr. 
now Rush Rudder, M. D., ivas attending to 
the arduous duties of his profession, in his 
native city,.Cincinnati, when one fine morn¬ 
ing, several years after he had left the Uni¬ 
versity, a splendid coach drove up to his 
doer, and a beautiful fern; le entered his of¬ 
fice. The young physici: n lifeed his eyes 
from the book he had been reading, he fan¬ 
cied he had seen that face bef'oi e, but when, 
or how, or where, he knew not. 
“ I have come, sir,” .said she, “ to pay 
you for medicine received from you long, 
long ago.” 
Id o ^ • • • 
“ WJien did you receive the medicines?” 
asked the Doctor in a business manner, but 
it was a counterfeit 
“On a cold Christmas morning in the 
year 18—, you met a poor girl crying in 
the city of Philadelphia, you spoke kindly 
to her, followed her to her sick mother, and 
purchased food and medicine until she re¬ 
covered. That woman was the only daugh¬ 
ter of a wealthy gentleman, but marrying 
cor.tr iry to her father’s wisli he banished 
her from his house. Her husband soon 
died, and she was forced to support herself 
and child by her needle, but unused to la- 
b »r, days and nights of toil were too much 
for her, and she sunk beneath the task, and 
had it not been for you she must have died, 
and her daughter txposed to tl e cha ities 
of a cold and heartless world; yea, to all the 
tamptations which helpless females are sub¬ 
ject to in our large cities. Her father died 
shortly after her recovery, without a wil', 
consequently she fell heir to all his vast es¬ 
tate. Kind sir, that woman was my moth¬ 
er, and I am the little girl you spoke so 
kindly to.” 
The rest of my story is soon told. They 
were married, Dr. Rudder and the wealthy 
heiress. And if you ever visit the city of 
Cincinnati, you may see the beautiful house 
where Rusli Rudder has retired from prac¬ 
tice; still he pursues tlie study of his fa¬ 
vorite science, and much we are indebted 
to him for his researches in the field of 
medicine. 
THE FLOWER THAT LOOKS UPWARDS. 
A GROUP of young, light-hearted girls 
sat together in the twilight busily arrang¬ 
ing the flowers they had been gathering in 
the pleasant woods and fields. 
“What beautiful things flowers are!” 
said one, “and wiiata pleasant amusement 
it would be, now that .we are all sitting here 
so quietly, if each were to choose which 
flower she should rather be like.” 
“Just as if there could be any choice,” 
exclaimed Laura Bennet, a little proudly— 
“Among all the liower-s that grow, there is 
none to vie in beauty with the rose. Let 
me be the queen of flowers or none!” 
“ For my part,” observed her sister Hel¬ 
en, “ I should like to resemble the luxuri¬ 
ant rhododendron, so beautifully described 
in our book of flowers. "Wlien any one in 
passing shakes it roughly, it scatters, we 
are told, a shower of lioney dew from its 
roseate cups and immediately begins to fill 
its chalices anew with transparent ambro¬ 
sia; teaching us to shower SAveetness even 
upon tlie hands that disturb us, and to fill 
again with pure honey-drops the chalices of 
our inw'ard thoughts. Oh! who would not 
wish to be and forgive like the rhododen¬ 
dron, if they could ? But it is very diffi¬ 
cult,” added poor Helen, with tears in her 
eyes. 
“ It is indeed,” said Lucy Neville, gently, 
“ if we trust only to our own strength.— 
And who is there to help us ? It is only 
when my father looks at me, in his grave, 
in a kind manner, that I have the slighest 
control over myself. What a pity it is,* 
said Lucy, simply, “that we cannot always 
remember that the eye of our heavenly 
Father is upon us!” 
“ I wish I could,” .said Helen. 
“ I have heard my mother say,” observ¬ 
ed Lucy, “ that praying is better than wish¬ 
ing.” “Now, Clara,” interrupted Laura 
Bennet, turning impatiently toward a fair, 
genteel looking girl by lier side, “ we are 
waiting for you.” 
Clara smiled, and immediately choose the 
pale convolvulus or bindwooti, winding so 
carelessly in and out among the bushes, and 
flinging over them a graceful covering, an 
emblem of meek beauty and loving tendei - 
iiess. “ The only pity is,” said she, “ that 
it should so soon close up and fade.” 
“But Avhat says our dear Lucy?” ex¬ 
claimed Helen. 
“I think that I can guess,” said Clara 
Seymour; “ either a violet or a heart’s ease 
—am I right?” 
“Not quite,” replied Lucy, with a deep 
blush; “ although both the flowers that you 
have mentioned are great favorites of mine. 
But I should like to resemble the daisy 
most, because it is always looking upward.” 
“ Do tell me,” said Helen, as they walk¬ 
ed home together, carrying the flowers 
which they had gathered to adorn their 
several dwellings: “do tell me why you 
wislicd, just now, to be always looking up¬ 
ward like the daisy?” 
“ Oh, Helen, can you ask! What more 
do wc^require for happiness than to be able, 
let the cloud be ever so dark, to look up¬ 
ward with tlie eye of faith, and say, “ It is 
the Lord’s ivill, and therefore it is best ?” 
“Do you always think thus?” asked 
Helen. 
“Alas! no;” replied poor Lucy, Avhile 
the tears fell fast “ But I am trying and 
praying to God to teach me.” 
A True Laavybr. —Alexander Hamilton 
Avas once applied to as counsel by a man 
having the guardianship of several orphans, 
who Avould, on coming of age, succeed to 
a large and valuable estate, of Avhich there 
was a material defect in the title-deeds, 
knoAvn only to their guardian, Avho Avanted 
to get the estate A'ested in himself. Ham¬ 
ilton noted down the faithless executor’s 
statement, and then said to him, “ Settle 
Avith these unhappy infants honorably to 
the last cent, or 1 Avill hunt you from your 
skin like a hare.” The advice Avas strict’y 
followed, and the man who gave it was an 
ornament to the bar, and to the age he 
lived in. 
He that would know what life is, must 
have its trials as Avell as its joys. 
iSuninrous niiii ilraiising. 
CURING A NTBBLER. 
Some people have a very ugly way of 
laying violent hands on small trifles that 
don’t belong to them, Avhich cost others 
money, and Avhich they don’t think of pay¬ 
ing for. Now, it is very Avell known that 
groceries pay about the smallest profit of 
any other merchandize; hence the habit of 
some folks of going into a store to purchase 
ten to tAventy-livc cents’ Avorth of groceries 
— to be sent home, too — and while they 
Avait for the goods to be put up, they amuse 
themselves by a mouthful of sugar, gor¬ 
mandize an apple or tAvo, or guzzle a bunch 
of raisins, figs, slice of cheese, plug of to¬ 
bacco, biscuit, or Avhatever else lies around 
temptingly exposed to vicAv. You may rest 
assured that people don’t trade or traffic for 
the fun of it, and if you gouge*the grocer, 
he will be justified in keeping square with 
you, by sending light Aveights and scant 
measure. A facetious old mercantile friend 
of ours up toAvn, was thus bled by a cus¬ 
tomer, Avho used to come in daily to order 
something or other in the grocery line, and 
Avho, having an amazing sweet tooth in his 
head, thought nothing of nibbling chunks 
of M'gr, bunches of raisins, &c. One 
morning, Nibble came into the store before 
breakfast, evidently disturbed in mind. 
“ Mr.-, you sent my quarter bill, 
last night ?” 
“Yes, sir, I did.” 
“Well, there’s one item I don’t under¬ 
stand,—‘Nibbles, 3 mos., daily, $3.’ What 
the dickens do you mean by tliat ?” 
“ You keep a dry goods store, Mr.-?” 
“Yes, I do.” 
“Noaa-, suppose I came in every day to 
buy two or three shillings’ Avorth of goods, 
and each time I should levy on a spool ol 
cotton, a paper of needles or a piece of tape, 
Avhich I never, of course, thought of ac¬ 
counting for —” 
“Oh, ah, yes, yes, I take the force of 
what you are about to say; those little things 
do count up. You’ve got me noAv.” 
The bill Avas paid. The dry goodist did 
not take the matter as an in.sult, and wliat 
is still more strange — has quit nibbling. 
A Dismal Prospect. — A young lady of 
18, Miss B., was engaged to be married to 
a gentleman of 36. Her mother, having 
noticed her Ioav spirited for some time, in¬ 
quired the reason, 
“ Oh dear! mamma! ” replied the young 
lady— “I Avas thinking about my husband 
being twice my age.” 
“That’s true—but he’s only thirty-six.” 
“ He’s only thirty-six now, mamma; but 
— Avhen I’m sixty—” 
“ Well ? ” 
“ Oh dear! Avhy then'.he’ll be a hxindred 
and twenty! ” 
Leaving off “Schnapps.”—" Veil, den, 
Hans, 1 tells you how to do. You go and 
puy un parrel of viskey, un take it hum, 
and put a foshet in it, und vhenever you 
A^ant un schnapp, go and traAV it, und sllust 
su much viskey as you truAV ofT der foshet, 
shnstso much vater you poot into der par¬ 
rel ; you see you haf alvays a full parrel of 
viskey; only directly, pooty soon, after a 
vile it coom veaker und veaker, und at 
lasht you have noting put a parrel of vater; 
den you vant no more use vor viskey, und 
you jine der demberanche. 
Neav Domestic Locomotive. —Grocer: 
“ Hoav did you like that old cheese I sent 
you home last night, Mr BroAvn ? ” 
Mr. BroAvn: “Old! I believe you—old 
enough to go alone. Got half Avay round 
the corner this morning, before I could stop 
it. Called to see if you had three more of 
the same sort—Avant them for Avheels, and 
intend to dispense Avith my pony in future. 
If I am called upon to state the market, I 
shall quote cheese as decidedly active!' 
“ Pa, Avhat makes the people go to hear 
Webster, if they liaA'e got to be put in 
irons ?” 
“ To be put in irons; Simon, what do you 
mean ?” 
“ Why, the papers say, that at his great 
speech, t’other day, the entire audience Avas 
chained to the spot.” 
“ Susan, give that boy a lump of sugar 
and put him to bed as quick as possible.” 
A Hit. — A certain young clergyman, 
modest and given to bashfulness, Avas once 
asked by a country apothecary of a contra¬ 
ry character, in a public and croAvded as¬ 
sembly, and in a tone of voice to catch the 
attcniion of the wliole company,—“ How it 
happened that the patriarchs lived to such 
an extreme old age ? ” To Avhich imperti¬ 
nent question he immediately replied, “Per¬ 
haps they took no physic! ” 
Rather Difficult. —A professor from 
New Yoik is about to entertain the people 
of Cleveland, Chio, with a lecture on “Man 
in his Relations.” It will puzzle him, some 
think, to go beyond second cousins. 
He Avho has a high forehead, will have 
his eyes under it, and will live all the days 
of his life. 
Comer. 
Attempt the end, .niid never sund to d<'ul»< i 
Nothing’s ao hard, lint search will find it out.” 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA, 
l am composed of 15 letters. 
My I, 13,14, II, 131s a county in Gco’-gw. 
•• ‘2, 7, 5, 15, 13, 7 is a river in H. America^ 
“ 3, 1, 13,11 is a city in Peru. 
“ 4,12, 0, 4 Is a Like in North Amcric.i. 
“ 5, 11, 7, 13 is a inotiniain in N. Carolinit. 
“ 6, 7, 5, 12, li; 8, 8 is a county in Go^rgia. 
“ 7, 8, <1, 2, 3, i 1 is a city in Turkey. 
” 8,4, 4 is a county in Virginia. 
“ 9,13, 13 is a river in Eurofie. 
•* 10, 8, 11,1’, 4, 13, 0, 4 is a town In Alahanm. 
” 11,12, 11, 13,4, 11 is a inoiinlnin inUceanica. 
“ 12,7,0, 9,13, 4 is a county in Wisconsin. 
“ 13, 14, 8, 4 is a river in Africa. 
” 14, 11,13,14, 7 is a county in Michigan, 
15,8, 8, 4, 13 is a county in Ohio. 
My whole is an impuitant division of tbe territory of 
United States. 
O' Answer in two weeks. 
ENIGMA. 
CHARADE. 
It Is formcrl like the globe, and ’tis idhced In Its centre j 
It commands every tongue — every month H will enter t 
It is alw<ays in fashion, yet first to he odd ; 
It departs not from home, yet it wanders abro.td i 
It presides o’er tl c ocean — reigns likewise on shore ( 
It leads every object, enriching our shore — 
Aticuds all our actions — directs every omen — 
Turns one into ten—hates ninn, yctlovcs woman i 
Seen early in morning, it brightens at noon. 
Keeps dark in the sun, but shines out in the moon. 
It is sure to be foremost on many occasions, 
Socking office and profit, and quick at orations. 
It is taught with our lessons, in all we receive { 
It is mixed with our doctrines, in nil we believe i 
It is present in woe, is absent in mirth ; 
Yet was ne’er owned in heaven. In hell, nor In earth ) 
It leagues with the coward, as well as the bold) 
It combines with the hero, the young arul the old i 
It embraces all points, yet it stands in the wrong; 
It is courteous to those who arc robust and strong | 
It clings to the doctor, the parson, the pntroit $ 
It favors the bachelor, avidow and matron i 
It is kept from the father — bestowed on the nioUier | 
It disowns every sister, and courts every brother j 
It was partial to Solomon, inoiiaich of song— 
And ’tis ineloily sweet to Uie musical throng \ 
Yet ’fs known tlirough the land as the third of otir sorrow, 
And ihongh sleeping at night, it will wake on each morrow. 
It is shut from our notice ten montns in tbe year. 
And only in two does it d,are to appear ; 
Yet it clothes us with raiment, supplies us with food, 
And it now lives in Inpe that ’tis well umlerstood. 
ICTAnswer in two weeks, ’• 
ANSWER TO QUESTIONS, &o. IN No, 28. 
Answer to Charade— Ma-tr:-mon7. 
Bethesda Water-Cure, 
AT RICHf'ORD, TIOGA CO., N. Y. 
rYillIS highly succe.-sful Instinition for the cure of dis- 
J. eases by Water, Air, Diet, Exercise, fc-lcciriciiy, &c , 
is plcnsaiiily situated at nearly equal diotanccs from the 
fiourisliiiig villages of luiaca, Greene. Homer, and Owogo. 
Ill regard to soilness and purity of water, and every other 
iinportant means of cure, it will not suffer iu comparison 
with more cx|)ciisive establiscnients. 
Terms, Four Doi.i,ar8 (icr week for hoard and all ordi¬ 
nary treatment. Each patient must furiifsh 4 coarse tow¬ 
els, 2 cott m or linen sheets, 1 woolen sheet, and 3 or 4 
comfortables. J. 11. STED.'.lAN, M.D., 
{28-Ow] Proprietor. 
Biirrall’8 PrcDiiom (xraiu Reaper. 
T he subscritier inanufactnrcs, sells and warrants a 
Reaper, which is tiiisui passed by any in market. It* 
gearing is perfectly strong end simple, and is nut liable to 
gel out of order. It fias been thoroughly tested and given 
the highest satisfaction. 
The first premium was awarded it at the late State Ag¬ 
ricultural Fair. 
Price Sluu. Orders or enquiries respecting it, promptl 
a'tended to. K, J. BUKRALL. 
Gkneva, July, 1850.—[2S-8t] 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, BY 
the 
I am composed of 26 letters: 
My 1, 4, 17, 5, 24, U, Ills oicof the United State*. 
“ 17, 12,13, 9,17,7, 14 is a town in Arkansas. 
” 21, 22, 25, 5, 8, 2, 16 is a m.aseulioc proper name. 
" 7, 17, 2'», 12 is the name of a female. 
“ 15, 2, 21', 3, 4 is a river in France. 
“ IP, 25, If, 26, 2 is one of the United States. 
“ 21, 22, 23,13, 6, 24, 17is acily in the U. State*, 
“ 10, 14, 8, 4,16 is a country in Eu'Opc. 
“ 3, 20, 7, 9, 12 is a town in Micfiigan. 
“ 2, 8, 10 is a tree. 
“ 18, II, 1 is a fruit. 
“ 19, 14, 5, 21, 22 is a sp-ing month. 
“ 17,3, 23, 17, 26 is a vegetable. 
My whole is the name of an American Statestnan, and 
the State in which he resides, 
IT Answer in two weeks. 
Answer to Grammatical Enigma— Henry Waimwouth \ 
LONaFECIAJW. 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprietor. 
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be sent by mail at our risk. ) 
TERMS OF ADVERTISING: j 
A limited number of appropriate advertisements ) 
will be inserted in the New-Yorkkr, at the rate of ( 
50 cents per square (twelve lines or les.s,) for the first j 
insertion, and 25 cents for each subsequent publica- j 
lion. Casual advertisments to be paid for in advance, ) 
Advertisements not accompanied with special direc- < 
tions, will — at the option of the Publisher,— be in- J 
serted until forbid, and charged accordingly. ; 
[J3= Notices relative to Meetings, &c. of Agricul- < 
tural. Horticultural, Mechanical and Educational J 
Associations, published gratuitously. ) 
Publishing Agents, < 
WHO WILL RECEIVE SUBSCRIPTIONS, AND PURNISU COnjCfl | 
OP THE RURAL NEW-YORKKR: ) 
ELON COMSTOCK, Rome, N. Y. | 
Mr. C. is also general agent for Oneida County, , 
T. 8. HAWKS, BuffUk). | 
W. L. PALMER, Syracuse, N. Y. 
•* I. R. TREMBLY, Dansville. \ 
[n=* Also Agent for Naples and Homelbville. i 
E. HOPKINS, Lyons, N. Y. ) 
8 TKAM PRESS OF A. STRONG it CO, 
