Punch intimates that the influence of 
Mons. Soyer, chief cook of the Reform Club, 
over the appetites of his patrons, is really 
stew-pan-doi(s ! 
If one sw(dlow does make one spring, 
how many swallows will it take to make one 
sprung? 
I?iininrau0 nn!) Slrausing. 
f’mitlj’s CmtiFr. 
I Jiterarq anh Mmlkmms. 
From the London Court Journal. 
VIRTUE REWARDED. 
AN EXCELLENT STOEY, WELL RELATED. 
A LIGHT knock at the door inten-upted 
the conversation. . Anna cast a look of in¬ 
quietude at her mother, for since the loss of 
their fortune rip visit had broken their soli¬ 
tude, 
“ Go and open it,” said the lady. With 
a smile she obeyed, and the opened door 
gave entrance to a man, whom she immediate¬ 
ly recognised as the stranger who had as¬ 
sisted the poor old sufferer. 
The countenance of Mademoiselle Revi- 
al at once assumed a grave and severe ex¬ 
pression. Her mother perceived the change, 
but before she could make an inquiry into 
the cause, the stranger advanced, and salu¬ 
ting her with respect, said:— . 
“ Madame, you are, I presume, the moth¬ 
er of this young lady ? ” 
Madame Revial made a sign of assent, 
and pointed out a chair to the stranger. — 
He took it, and continued: “ chance this 
morning brought Mademoiselle and myself 
together in affording assistance to an un- 
happy—” 
“ Oh! mother,” interrupted the young 
girl, whose neck and face w^as covered with 
blushes at this allusion to the morning’s ad¬ 
venture, “ I have not had time to tell you 
about it. Do you remember the poor old 
man who generally took up his station at 
the door of our hotel formerly? He al¬ 
ways wore a green bandage over his eyes, 
to conceal his face from the passers-by, and 
held a small basket of matches in his hand.” 
“Yes,” interrupted Madame Revial in 
her turn, “ I remember him well; your fath¬ 
er always dropped some money into the 
basket when returning from the Bourse.— 
You always used to call him ij our poor old 
man ; and you, as little as you were, delight¬ 
ed in giving him every thing that you could 
scrape together.” 
“ Well, since our departure from the ho¬ 
tel, we have asked each other a thousand 
times wdiat could have become of him.” 
“ Yes,” said Madame Revial with evident 
interest 
“ Well, mother, I found him to-day, at 
last, but in such a wretched state that I 
was really shocked. Stretched on the snow 
dying, absolutely of cold and hunger-; and 
without the assistance of this kind gentle¬ 
man, he must have perished where he lay.” 
“Say rather without yours,” said the 
young man earnestly. “ I could do noth-; 
ing for I had lost my purse. To you, and 
you alone, is he indebted for life. But,” 
continued he, in a different tone, seeing the 
color again mounting to Anna’s face, “ it is 
not for the purpose of disclosing to this la¬ 
dy the secret of your good actions that I 
have followed you here; it is to request you 
to take the trouble of buying a bed and 
some other little necssaries for this poor 
child of misfortune. Here are a hundred 
francs, that you will have the kindness to 
employ for this purpose. I pray you to be¬ 
lieve that if I was not a stranger in Paris, 
and on the point of quitting it this very 
evening, I would not fcake this liberty with 
persons to whom I am unknown. I trust 
that you will excuse my request” 
“ There is no necessity to ofier an apolo¬ 
gy,” said Madame Revial; “ on the contra¬ 
ry, we ought. to thank you for having se¬ 
lected us to complete a benevolent action.” 
“ Now, Madame,” added the young man, 
in a hesitating and timid manner, “ it only 
remains for me to inquire the name of my 
young sister in this work of kindness.” 
“ Mademoiselle Anna Revial.” 
A cry of astonishment broke from the 
stranger—“The daughter of M. Revial, of 
Bordeaux, who lost his fortune by trustmg 
in a friend, and died of grief? ” 
“Alas! you have but too truly stated 
GOOD “AT ALL TRADES-” 
The following advertisement ma'de its ap¬ 
pearance in a paper printed—no matter 
where—at the period of the general turn-out 
of the factory girls in Maine, on account of 
having their wages reduced. It shows the 
natural independence of Yankee girls, who, 
in general, can turn their hands to most 
any kind of employment 
“To THE World at Large. —We are 
now working out our notice and shall soon 
be out of employment—can turn our hands 
to tnost anything—don’t like to be idle— 
but determined not to work for nothing 
where folks can afford to pay. Who wants 
help ? We can make bonnets, dresses, pud¬ 
dings, pies or cakes; patch, darn, knit; roast, 
stew, and fry; make butter and cheese, 
milk cows, feed chickens and hoe corn; 
make beds, split wood, kindle fires, wash 
and iron, besides being remarkably fond of 
babies. In fact, can do anything the most 
accomplished housewife is capable of—not 
forgetting the scoldings un Mondays and 
Saturdays. For specimens of spunk, we 
will refer you to our overseer. Speak quick 1 
Black eyes, fair foreheads, clustering locks, 
beautiful as a Hebe, can sing like a Seraph, 
and smile most be,witchingly. Any elderly 
gentleman in want of a housekeeper, or a 
nice young man in want of a wife, (willing 
to sustain either ' character, in fact,) we are 
in the market. Who bids ? Going, going, 
gone! Who’se the lucky man ?” 
LISTEN! LADIES, TO PETER PIPKINS. 
I WISH that I was married, I’m tired of 
this life ; I think that I will turn a page, 
and try to get a wife; for 0! of all poor 
mortals, renowned in song or ditty, the 
bachelor who lives alone, de.serves most of 
your pity! Some call their wives extin¬ 
guishers, ’twould not be so with me; for I 
am quite extinguished now, at least I’m out 
you’ll see; quite out of cash, and so of course 
I am without a friend; I’m out of credit and 
out of coats, and no one wants to lend. I’m 
friendly to the married state, although its 
full of care, its best to have a kind help¬ 
mate, though joys must be but rare. It is 
not good to live alone, Avith scarce a friend 
to greet, I’m sure the bliss of wedded life, 
must be by far more sweet! I’ll marry! yes 
my mind is fixed. Ladies! now here’s a 
chance, I’m rather young and handsome 
too, can sing a song and dance; I’m Avorth 
Avhole cart-loads of “true love,” and of 
dimes about a score, all Avhich I freely offer 
you; sorry I’ve nothing more. Pray do 
not keep me waiting long, for mine’s a des¬ 
perate case; if no success attends me here. 
I’ll try some other place. Come and I’ll 
take you as you are, with faults and foibles 
in, if but one item you will bring, that is, a 
little Tin. 
Conundrums.— Why is a sick Jew, hke a 
diamond ? Because it is a Jew-ill. 
When do people drink music ? When ] 
they haA^e a piano for tea {Piano For-te) 
When is music like vegetables ? When 
there are tAvo beats in a measure. 
Why are teeth like verbs ? Because they 
are regular, irregular and defective. 
Why is an apple pie like a counterfeit* 
quarter of a doUar ? Because it ain’t cur¬ 
rent {curranti) 
Why is a vain young lady, like a confirm- 
'.ed drunkard? Because neither of them 
are satisfied Avith a moderate use of the 
glass. 
Why is a ragged coat like an iron pot ?— 
Because it is a species of hard wear {hard- 
war ei) 
AVhy is a good sermon like a kiss ? Be¬ 
cause it only requires two heads and an ap¬ 
plication,. ; 
Three -students at college met an aged 
countryman, and wishing to have a little 
sport Avith him, thus accosted him. The 
first said, “ Good morning, father Abraham,’’ 
the second, “ Good morning, father Isaac,” 
and the third. Good morning, father Jacob.” 
The old gentleman replied, “I am neither 
Abraham, Isaac, nor Jacob; but I am Saul 
the son of Kish, Avho went to seek his fath¬ 
er’s asses, and lo! I have foimd three of 
them.” 
Tavo old gentlemen of our acquaintance, 
were comphmenting each other on their 
habits of temperance. 
“ Did you ever, neighbor,” said one, “ see 
me with more than I could carry ?” 
“No indeed,” was the reply, “not I. But 
I have seen you when I thought you had 
better have gone twice after it” 
“I STAND upon the soil of freedom!” 
cried a stump orator. “ No,” exclaimed his 
shoemaker; “you stand in a pair of boots 
that have never been paid for.” 
“ Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 20 letters. 
My 5, 19, 14, 14 is the name of a county in Ohio. 
My 15, 19, 5, 17, lU, 14 was one of the signers of 
•the Declaration of Independence. 
My 3, 13, 6, 1, 16, 5, 10, 8, 10, 7, 7, 14 is the great¬ 
est natural curiosity in the world. 
3Iy 12, 16, 7, 18, 8, 19, 9, 11, 13, 6 is the cause of 
great excitement at the present time. 
3Iy 9, 19, 15, 6, 3, 14 was once a powerful nation 
but is now almost entirely extinct. 
My 14, 5, 15, 13, 20, 19, 7, 2 is the Indian name 
for wild. 
My 19, 3, 2, 1, 16 is a lake in Russia. 
My 6, 15, 4, 7, 13, 16 is a county in Virginia. 
3Iy 14, 2, 20, 4, 12, 6 is a lake in New York. 
My 12, 6,14, 12, 19, is a bry on the coast of Maine. 
.My 15, 6, 7, 10, 17, is a lake in Sweden. 
My 12, 6, 9, 19 7, 13, 20, 2 is an island in the Pa¬ 
cific Ocean. 
My 6, 7, 7, 2, 20 is a county in Kentucky. 
My whole Avas a brave and able officer of the 
Revolution. f. c. w. 
[O’’ Answer in two weeks. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. * 
PROBLEM. 
There are two numbers, one of which is four 
times greater than the other—and if the fifth pow¬ 
er of the less is increased by the product of the 
square of the greater, multiplied by the square root 
of the less, the sum will be equal to one thousand 
five hundred and thirty-six. Find the numbers. 
An algebmical solution required. Louisa. 
• [O’ Answer in two weeks. 
MENSURATION QUESTION. 
A tree standing at the foot of a steep place, 35 
feet of its top w-as broken off by a sudden blast of 
wind, and without slipping from the upper end of 
the stump rested over with its top to the side of the 
hill 73i feet from the foot of the stump. Coming 
that way I found that 5 feet 74 inches, up the yet 
standing part, it measured from its centre and in a 
right angle from it, exactly 3 feet across to the side 
of the hill. Pray tell me ye Geometricians the 
whole height of this yet standing piece. 
[0= Answer in two weeks. 
POETICAL ENIGMA. 
What sweet little w’ord is a “ Balsam of Life,” 
Expressive of happiness, comfort, and love? 
It dw’elis in the heart amidst turmoil and strife. 
And thrills it, as o’er the world’s desert we rove. 
In sorrow’s dark hour, still more dear ’twill become, 
In sickness, no ined’eine more healing is given. 
The Exile whom Tyranny drives to his doom. 
If he’s lost it on Earth, will find it in Heav’n. 
[HJ’ Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS, &c. IN No. 30. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma.—U ppeh Calikornia. 
Answer to Enigma.—G eneral Lewis Cas.s, of IVIicni- 
OAN. _ 
Answer to Charade.—The loiter O. 
DUNN’S SCYTHES. 
B y an act of incorjjoration of the Legislature of 
Maine the Scythe Manufacturing Establishment 
of R. B. Dunn, Esq., at North Wayne, Maine, has 
been formed into a corporate body under the style 
and name of the NORTH WAYNE SCYTHE 
COMPANY, with a Capital of S150,000. 
The Company are now fully organized, and fur¬ 
nished with means to continue the making of Scythes 
to a greater extent than any other manufactory in 
the world. Such is the perfection of the machinery, 
and the known skill and experience of the workmen, 
that the quality of the Scythe will be unsurpassep 
by any in tlie market. 
To their article of Cast Steel Grass Scythes tliey 
desire to call particular attention. Made from San¬ 
derson 1 ^' Bros. Genuine Cast Steel, imported ex¬ 
pressly for that purpose, they Avill always be what 
they are represented, and not like some tliat could 
be named, made of Hassenclever or German Steel, 
and stamped and palmed off as Cast Steel. No 
effort will be spared to meet the just expectation of 
dealers and consumers, and customers may be as¬ 
sured of prompt attention and honorable dealing. 
Particular attention will be given to furnishing 
Grain Scythes for Cradle makers, of any pattern de¬ 
sired, and of as good style, finish and temper as the 
best known. 
Orders and inquiries are respectfully solicited; 
and any addressed to the subscriber at Mohawk, 
Herkhner Co., N.- Y., will meet with prompt atten¬ 
tion. [l-tf.] HIRAM C. WHITE, Agent. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprieter, 
Pubheation Office in Burns’Block, [No. 1, 2d floor,] 
corner State and Buffalo streets. 
Terms, in Advance: 
Two Dollars a Year —$1 for six months. To 
Clubs and Agents as follows; -7- 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. 
Post-Masters, Clergymen, Teachers, Officers and 
Members of Agricultural Societies, and other influ¬ 
ential persons, of all 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. 
ilT’ Subscription money, properly enclosed, may 
be sent by mail at our risk. 
TERMS OF ADVERTISING: 
■ A limited number of appropriate advertisements 
wall 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 each subsequent publica¬ 
tion. Casual advertisments to be paid for in adv.ance. 
Advertisements not accompanied with special direc¬ 
tions, will — at the option of the Publisher,— be in¬ 
serted un^ forbid, and charged accordingly. 
[p^ Notices relative to Meetings, &c. of Agricul¬ 
tural, Hortmultural, Mechanical and Edu&rtional 
Associations, published gratuitously. 
Publishing Agents, 
WHO WILL RECEIVE ..SUBSCRIPTIONS, AND, rORNISH OOPIBI 
OP TUB RURAL NEW-YORKER: 
ELON COMSTPCK, Rome, N. Y. 
Mr. C. is also generafngent for Oneida County. 
T. 8. HAWKS, Bufialo. 
W. L. PALMER, Syracuse, N. V. 
I. R. TREMBLY, Dansville. 
O’ Also Agent for Naples and HomelUville. 
E. HOPKINS, Lyons, N. Y. 
STEAM PRESS OF A. STRONG A CO. 
Lake of ray love! Ontario! while tliy wave 
Scatters its spray upon my grateful head -, 
While wide before me in the deep concave 
Thy pathless map — a painted waste — is spread -, 
Peculiar fancies haunt my wildered brain, 
And dreams of future years engage my soul. 
Now stern Ambition’s music — Hope’s refrain — 
In stirring cadence o’er iny senses roll. 
Far off I sec die mountain billow swell, 
It sweeps — it breaks against the jutting rock — 
While others riding o’er it seem to tell 
’Tis Uius tliat Fale our dearest pride will mock. 
Idle the lesson ! from the din of life 
There lingering steals a quick, inspiring strain 
To tell the palmlcss soldier of the strife, 
Still, still, ’tis sweet to battle — tho’ in vain. 
Behold ! the waves seem mingling with the sky, 
We sail to clasp it but it flies before. 
Stern moralist! what lesson fills thine eye ? 
The heaven of Peace thus mocks us evermore. 
Infelix! to thy green and wasted sight 
This generous truth had yet remained adark — 
The keel rides free that seeks a haven bright — 
The shaft wings high that woos a lofty mark. 
Thus know I love thee, Minstrel of my soul! 
Ambition I — tho’ they call thee friend of hell — 
From out these billows as they darkly roll, 
I quaff thee, Spirit of'the matchless spell! 
Rochester, N. Y. De Witt Matterhoom. 
MOORE’S RURAL MEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
.the case. How does it happen that you my misery being at an end. In an adver- 
are acquainted with these facts ? ” tisement which it bore, I read the intelli- 
“I am Jules Barsac,” said the young gence that a French gentleman named 
man, in a voice scarcely audible. Francois de Chazel, had been for years seek- 
Anna grew pale, and went and placed ing in vain for his brother, Jacques de Cha- 
herself near her mother’s seat. A mourn- zcl, ruined, like him, in the revolution; and 
ful silence succeeded for a short time, and that, by his will, he had ordered an adver- 
it was Jules who broke it. tisement to be inserted every week for three 
“ Ah! Madame,” said he suddenly rising, years, that the brother might come forward 
“ I perceive that I yesterday sent you my and claim his ample fortune. That Jacques 
renunciation of a life of happiness. This de Ghazel stands now before you—it is I. 
letter,’’, he repeated, as he slightly touched “ Without delay I set out for London, 
it with the finger of his right hand, with a and only returned yesterday. Your nota- 
look of disgust—“permit me to destroy it, ry,” continued he, speaking to Madame Re- 
and to forget that it was ever written.”— vial, “is mine; from him 1 heard of the in- 
Looking from one lady to the other, and 
seeing no. sign of opposition, he lore it down 
the middle, and threw the portions into the 
fire. He watched them until the flames 
had seized on every|||‘part; and then, as if 
content that it. was wholly and irrevocably 
destroyed, he approached Madame Revial, 
and bent his knee before her, as she regard¬ 
ed alternately, with the utmost satisfaction, 
her daughter and liim whom she would 
have chosen for her son-in-law, if the choice 
had been in her power. “ Or if the mem¬ 
ory of this unhappy letter can not altogeth¬ 
er pass away, and if part of it must still re¬ 
main in your remembrance, think only of 
the words which say, ‘ If your daughter 
and myself had been better acquainted.’— 
We are acquainted, and know each other 
already as if we had never been apart. I 
just now called Mademoiselle by the name 
of sister; let me call her by another name, 
not less kind, but more sacred—that of wife. 
I have no fortune to offer her, but I feel an¬ 
imated by double courage and hope. For 
her— for you, Madame, who will never quit 
us—I will work with energy and determi- 
naticH, and I feel that I shall succeed in my 
efforts. Oh, Madame, deign to answer me! 
But you weep —you give me your hand— 
you consent to my request ? ” 
“ And you, Anna, what do you say ? ” 
asked Madame Revial, as she held out the 
other to her daughter. 
“ Have I ever any other will than yours, 
dear mother? ” and she pressed the hand 
to her lips. 
“ You consent then, Mademoiselle ? ” said 
Jules; “then you will allow me to present 
you this ring as a mark of our engagement” 
He handed her a little ring set round 
with turquoises. 
“ It is Anna’s ring! ” said Madame Re¬ 
vial with surprise. 
“ Yes, mother,” said Anna, quite confus¬ 
ed; “I was obliged to sell it to replace the 
money I had received for my embroidery.” 
“ It was in purchasing it that I discover¬ 
ed your address, although you entered in 
the jeweller’s book only the name of Anna. 
It lo to tl:ilo I OTTO lllV \j£ 
again beholding you.” He took, as he spoke 
'the unresisting hand of the young girl, and 
placed on her finger the pledge of their 
union. 
The same evening, in order to fulfill the 
benevolent intentions of M. Barsac, who 
was obliged to leave town for Bordeaux, 
Anna returned to the old man’s lodgings. 
He was no longer to be found; be had dis¬ 
appeared without pointing out his new a- 
bode. 
* * * * * 
A month after, in the humble lodgings 
of Madame Revial, a few were assembled 
to witness the signing of the marriage con¬ 
tract before the. notary, who soon made his 
appearance; he was followed by an elderly 
man, richly attired. As the latter was not 
introduced, no person took much notice of 
him, for each was too much occupied with 
the ceremony for which they had come to¬ 
gether. Madame Revial was still an inva¬ 
lid, and had her daughter seated near her. 
The notary placed his portfolio on the ta¬ 
ble, and took from it a contract of marriage, 
which he proceeded to read aloud. After 
having specified the little property of the 
bridegroom, he went on to detail the fortune 
of the lady: “ Madame Revial makes over 
to her daughter the sum of Tl,000 per 
year—” 
“ You are making a mistake, Monsieur,” 
interrupted Madame Revial: “ formerly, in¬ 
deed, I did intend—” 
The notary, without paying any attention 
to the interruption, continued: “ £1,000 a 
year, arising from money in the public 
funds, for which here are the securities.” 
Saying this he displayed the coupons on 
the table, and Madame Revial, the daugh¬ 
ter and Jules Barsac, all made a movement 
as if about to speak, when the aged stran¬ 
ger arose and made a'sign for them to re¬ 
main silent Surprised at this interference, 
they awaited with interest the result of this 
strange scene. 
“ What! ” said the old man, with a bro¬ 
ken voice, and addressing Anna, “what. 
Mademoiselle, do you not remember gour 
poor old man? ” 
While she was looking earnestly at him, 
trying to read in his venerable countenance 
the marks of misery and suffering, he con¬ 
tinued : I 
“You have, then, forgotten ten years of 
daily kindness ? You have forgotten the 
Ihird day of January, with the assistance 
you gave so opportunely—the fire, the wine, 
and the wing of fowl wrapped up in a piece 
of newspaper? All forgotten ? Well, that 
very piece of newspaper is the cause of all 
tended marriage of your daughter. To 
that angel I owe my life, and the least I can 
do is to present her Avith a part of that for¬ 
tune which, without her, never Avould have 
reached my hands.” 
“ But, Monsieur,” said Madame Revial, 
with emotion, “ perhaps you have a family ?” 
“Yes, Madame,” replied he, bowing low 
as he spoke, “ if you will admit me into 
yours.” 
“ Ah, you have made part of our family 
for such a long time! ” said Anna, pressing 
in her hands those of M. de Chazel: then 
with a gesture full of naivette and grace, 
pointing to her intended husband, she add¬ 
ed, in a low voice, “ It is he Avho took you 
up. Do you recollect him ? Ah! you say 
that to me you owe your life; if you only 
knew how much I am indebted to you—if 
you only knew it? But we will separate 
no more, and I shall have time to tell you 
all about it.” 
Jules came forward to present the pen to 
his bride, and they both signed the marriage 
contract Formed under such auspices, 
who can doubt that it Avas a happy one ? 
HELP ONE ANOTHER. 
We haA’e just found in our reading a 
capital stor}'^, Avhich Ave copy for the benefit 
of young readers. The lesson it teaches 
Avill be at once apparent to a reflecting 
mind:— 
A traveler who was crossing the Alps, 
AA'as overtaken by a snoAV storm at the top 
of a high mountain. The cold became in¬ 
tense. The air Avas thick with sleet, and 
the piercing wind seemed to penetrate his 
bones. Still the traveler, for a time, strug¬ 
gled on. But at last bis limbs Avere benum¬ 
bed, a heavy droAvsiness began to creep over 
him, his feet almost refused 10 move, and he 
lay down on the snow to give Avay to that 
fatal sleep which is the last stage of extreme 
cold, and from Avhich he Avould certainly 
never have Avaked again in this Avorld. 
Just at that moment he saAV another poor 
traveler coming along the road. The un¬ 
happy man seemed to be, if possible, even 
in a Avorse condition than himself, for he, 
too, could scarcely move; all his poAvers 
were frozen, and all appeared to be just on 
the'point to die. 
When he saw this poor man, the traveler 
who “was just going to lie doAvn to sleep, 
made a great effort He roused himself 
up, and he craAvled, for he was scarcely able 
to walk, to his dying felloAv-sufferer. 
He took his hands into his OAvn, and tri¬ 
ed to Avarm them. He chafed his temples ; 
he rubbed his, feet; he applied friction to 
his bod}’-. And all the time he spoke cheer¬ 
ing Avords into Ins ear, and tried to comfort 
him. 
As be did thus, the dying man began to 
rCATvc, his powers were restored, and he 
felt able to go forward. But this Avas not 
all; for his kind benefactor, too, was recov¬ 
ered by the efforts Avhich he had made to 
save his friend. The exertion of rubbing 
made the blood circulate again in his own 
body. He grew warm by trying to warm 
the other. His droAvsiness went off; he no 
longer wished to sleep, his limbs returned 
again to their proper force, and the two 
travelers went on their Avay together, hap¬ 
py, and congratulating one another on their 
escape. 
Soon the snoAv storm passed away; the 
mountain was crossed, and they reached 
their home in safety. 
Now, then, young readers, you will un¬ 
derstand, that to be happy and enjoy life, 
you have only to try and make others hap¬ 
py. Do this, and you will be happy as 
singing birds. 
Genius, inspired by invention, rends the 
veil that separates existence from possibility, 
peeps into the dark, and catches a shape, 
a feature, or a color in the reflected ray.— 
Talent though panting pursues genius thro’ 
the plains of invention, but stops short at 
the brink that separates the real from the 
possible. 
None are so hard to please as those 
whom satiety of pleasure makes weary of 
themselves; nor any so readily provoked as 
those Avho have been ahvays courted with 
an emulation of civility. 
He who will take no advice, but be al¬ 
ways his own counsellor, is sure to have a 
fool often for his client 
The three most difficult things are—to 
keep a secret—to forget an injury—and to 
make good use of leisure. 
In every heart there are secrets which 
are never disclosed, and which cannot be 
wrested from it 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
BESIDE ONTARIO. 
