MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
but one leaf be torn away, all others are 
4R/t|HintntIU» loosened. In poor Finlay's case they fol- 
. - - - lowed one by one in rapid succession. 
MY MOTHER’S VOICE. A few weeks in the country entirely dis- 
- pelled the illusion which love had thrown 
BT MRS. JASE B. G Bround his idol — the celestial halo, which 
Mv Mother’s voice! like sweetest lays, be saw, was on^ a hallucination of his own 
I seem to hear it now, imagination, had departed forever. He had 
As erst I did in former days, , ° ^ i i- 
WhL hope beam’d o’ot her brow ; a beautiful, weak woman, With whom his 
There was a tone in her sweet voice, cultivated, refined mind could hold no cond- 
As soft “lute : munication. 
And I her child could but rojoice, , . . u j 
Whene’er she deem’d to sing. Finlay returned to town an altered man. 
, .r„ Mntopr’fl voiee I His high ambition had been sanctified in 
I loved its very tone ; his own estimation, because it was not cn- 
No other cadence seemed so choice, tlrely a selfish feeling. In all his visions 
Lo^g^ear^havepireTsince last I heard, of SUCCCSS, his honors were tO be laid at 
Those accents mild and pure ; the feet of Caroline. 
^ Thel'L^tWefp^^bl^tu^^'^®^‘ He entered again upon his laborious em- 
. , , , ployment. He was for a time entirely de¬ 
btor TmaglcoSslomeT ®voted to buSiness and lost all care and re- 
And there within my sleeping room, flection in the close attention which he 
She bends the sainted knee ; tO his professional duties. But SOOn 
^rwouffi^hoM^remain ' he needed relaxation; some place to which 
A sainted one with angel care, he could resort, to spend a few hours in 
I’d hear her voice again. pleasure. Home did not afford it. The 
Go where I will, I can but feel spoiled, heartless Caroline was engaged in 
'r f t 1 endless round of fashionable amusc- 
The heart to fix—the mind to steel 
'Gainst wrong—to hope for Heaven. mcnts. When at home, she was weary, 
Oh, who but knows a mother’s loss— vapid, • peevish. She needed the excite- 
OatSdtoohgKpo^^^^^^^^ “lent and admiration of a crowd to give 
That shrines her ashes there. her animation. It was not worth wlule to 
My Mother’s voice! My Mother’s voice ! e^^ert herself to please one, and he only 
Remembrance brings tome ; her husband. 
And oft I sing these words yf choice. Thus driven from that home which sho’d 
There’s m^8*ic\n“a mother’s voice, have been the haven of rest and peace. 
As sweet as llouri’s singing ; Finlay fled to the society of the gay, dissi- 
There’s music in a mothers voice, pated young men. Soon his office and law 
s pure as _ books were forsaken. His clients’ frequent 
A FASHIONABLE LADY. knocks were unanswered; they became less 
- and less frequent, and at length ceased en- 
A BRIEF STORY WITH A GOOD MORAL. tircly. They had lost their advocate, their 
„ 1 T _counsellor. He had rendered himself un- 
vi/i III’ aoifl worthy tlicir confidcncc. The highly gift- 
chUd; I must have my way this time, said , a rlmnUail f 
MY MOTHER’S VOICE. 
BT MRS. JASE B. GOODWIN. 
Mv Mother’s voice! like sweetest lays, 
I seem to hear it now. 
As erst I did in former days. 
When hope beam’d o’ot her brow ; 
There was a tone in her sweet voice. 
As soft as lute or string ; 
And I her child could but rejoice. 
Whene’er she deem’d to sing. 
iMy Mother’s voice ! My Mother’s voice ! 
I loved its very tone ; 
No other cadence seemed so choice. 
So like to music’s own. 
Long years have passed since last I heard, 
Those accents mild and pure ; 
As when she breathed the farewell word— 
The heart’s deep tablature. 
When night is palled in darkest gloom, 
Her image comes to mo ; 
And there within my sleeping room. 
She bends the sainted knee ; 
Her lips apart—she seems in prayer ;— 
I would thatsho’d remain ; 
A sainted one with angel care, 
I’d hear her voice again. 
Go where I will, I can but feel 
An early impress given ; 
The heart to fix—the mind to steel 
'Gainst wrong—to hope for Heaven. 
Oh, who but knows a mother’s loss— 
A mother’s watchful care, 
Gan tread too light upon the moss 
That shrines her ashes there. 
My Mother’s voice! My Mother’s voice ! 
Remembrance brings tome ; 
And oft I sing these words of choice, 
“ Like her I hope to be.” 
There’s music in a mother’s voice, 
As sweet as Houri’s singing ; 
There’s music in a mother’s voice. 
As pure as flowrets dying. 
A FASHIONABLE LADY. 
A BRIEF STORY WITH A GOOD MORAL. 
JflisftEllantj. 
Mrs. Finlay, a beautiful bride to her ador¬ 
ing husband. 
ed, ambitious, had become a drunkard! 
After a few years, Caroline returned ‘to 
It was a matter of consequence to Finlay her father’s house, because her husband 
that she should not have her own way this was no longer nble to support her; she re¬ 
lime. It was the first time her way — that ^^'“■ned a faded, disappointed, wretched wo ■ 
odious, positive word —had made its ap- The viper sting of conscience told 
peai-ance, and now was the very time her that she had brought all her misery 
to crush, to subdue it, before it had Hercu- herself. 
lanean strength. Why will not woman learn her own hap- 
Finlay was a young lawyer of fine tal- piness? Can one whose every thought bc- 
ents, just getting into extensive practice; it forc^ marriage is selfishness, can she ever 
was necessary he should remain in the city, sacrifice her own interest to the will of an- 
but a stronger necessity was upon him, his other? Yet, submission on her part, will 
cara sposa would go to the country, to be alone ensure domestic comfort Pride 
present at the wedding of a friend. lifts itself in opposition to this doctrine, cry- 
“But, dearest, you know I have several ing “equal rights.” But down with 
important cases upon the docket, which are rebellious spirit; her suggestion a- 
just about to be tried; my client will be ^aonnts to this— 
dissatisfied,” said Finlay, in that mild tone “Better reign in hell than serve in heaven.” 
of entreaty, which Should find its instant Woman, too. must be man’s intellectual 
way to a.woman’s heart companion. Without this domestic life be- 
“ Nimporte; let therfi go, vou will have i comes so dull, so insipid, that to a man of 
something besides clients to iivc upon y,),- •j- .-efined taste and cultivated understanding, 
know some of these days.” is intolerable. 
There was much pride, little sense, and The weak idolatry of a fool is valueless 
a great want of feeling in this speech. — and disgusting to a man of sense, but the 
Mrs. Finlay’s expectations depended upon afifection, of a high-minded, virtuous woman 
a kind, indulgent father, during whose life- a discriminating, intelligent, deep aftec- 
time they could not be realized. Finlay tion, wVich is honor to gam, and a pleasure 
felt it jar upon his heart strings and vibrate to cherish. _ 
to the very core, but he excused it or set ~~ 
it aside. “She is a beautiful, thoughtless HARE , G IB S. 
creature, she cannot be unfeeling. t„ • Lj™!. time that* somebodv told vmi 
HARE YE, GIRLS! 
creature, sue cannot oe unieeiing. j.^, [jigii time that* somebody told you 
To the country they went. Well, a little plain truth. You have been watch- 
thought I inlay, “I shall have (^quisite for a long time—a certain class of you— 
pleasure in pointing out to my Caroline jg plain enough you are trying plans 
sorne favorite scenes, some striking views cheat somebody. You intend to sell 
which may have craped her notice. We chaff for wheat; and there is danger that 
must sometimes make sacrifices to those we gQ^e of the foolish “ gudgeons ” will be 
love; leaving town, after all, was a matter taken in. 
of little consequence. ., , .It may not be your fault that you belong 
The boat glided almost with the rapidity to the “ one idea party,”—that the single 
of lightning over the smooth, deep Hudson, getting a husband is the only one 
“ Come upon deck, Caroline, we are near- engrosses much of your time and at- 
ing the Highlands, never did they look so tention. But it is your fault that you pur- 
splendidly.” aue this idea in a wrong direction. Your 
It was the momentary glow of radiant venerable mother, of Eden memory, was 
coloring which a happy heart gives to na- called a “ help ” for man, and you are look- 
ture, that at this moment rested so glori 
ously upon the picturesque Highlands. 
ing for a man to help you; to help you live 
in the half idle and half silly way which you 
“ Come, Mrs. Finlay,” said Finlay, care- have commenced. Men who are worth 
fully wrapping the shawl about the fault- having, want women for wives. A bundle 
less forrh of his beautiful wife. 
of gewgaws, bound with a string of flats 
“Why, Gfeorge, one would think I had and quavers, sprinkled with cologne, and 
never been up the river before in my life,” set in a carmine saucer, this is no help for 
said Caroline, then in the midst of an ani- a man who expects to raise a family of boys 
mated discussion with a fashionable friend, and girls on veritable bread and meat.— 
upon the spirit of their respective milliners. The piano and the lace frame are well 
“I have seen the Highlands a thousand enough in their places; and so arc ribbons, 
times; all that romantic stuff is out of and frills, and tinsels, but you can’t make a 
fashion; quite outre; nobody talks of the dinner of the former, nor a bed blanket of 
beauties of nature, but boarding school the latter. And, awful as the idea may 
misses.” seem to you, both dinner and bed blanket 
The repulsed Finlay left her, and took are necessary to domestic enjoyment Life 
his seat upon deck with a sigh. has its realities as well as its fancies; but 
“ Out of fashion,” thought he, and his you make.it all a matter of decoration—re¬ 
noble forehead was wrinkled with frowns, membering the tassels and curtains, but for- 
his proud lip cUrled, and a momentary getting the bedstead. Suppose a young 
flash illuminated his dark eyes with man of good sense, and of course, good 
unwonted fire. “Out of fashion! These prospects, to be looking for a wife, what 
towering, frowning palisades, this dark riv'- chance have you to be chosen? You may 
er, yonder rising moon! ” He fell into a cap him, or trap him, or catch him; but 
revery, long and ^ deep, for now he could how much better to make it an object for 
not enjoy these things alone. At the end him to catch you! Render yourselves 
of it, all the world’s consoler, Hope, whis- worth catching, and you will need no 
pered kindly, “ she certainly has sensibility, shrewd mothers or managing brothers to 
her mind is plastic, I can mould it into any help you find a market, 
form, and make it a complete reflection of 
my own.” 
Conjugal affection is a tender plant — 
The tears of beauty are like light clouds 
Conjugal affection is a tender plant — floating over a heaven of stars, bedimming 
The first rude shock sometimes scatters its them for a moment that they may shine 
fair leaves to the four winds of heaven. If with greater lustre than before. 
From the Friend’s Review. > 
OIJB HOMESTEAD. 
BY PHEBE caret. 
Our old brown homestead reared its walla, 
From the wayside dust aloof, 
Where the apple boughs could almost cast 
Their fruitage on the roof; 
And the cherry tree so near it grew. 
That when awake I’ve lain 
In the lonesome nights I’ve heard the limbs. 
As they creaked against the pane ; 
And those orchard trees, oh, those orchard trees. 
I’ve seen my little brotjiers rocked 
In their tops by the summer breeze. 
The sweet brier under the window sill 
Which the early birds made glad. 
And the damask rose by the garden fence. 
Were all the flowei-s we had ; 
I’ve looked at many a flower since then. 
Exotics rich and rare. 
That to other eyes were lovelier. 
But not to me so fair. 
For those roses bright, oh those roses bright 1 
I have twined them with my sister’s locks 
'Fhat are laid in the dust from sight! ^ 
We had a well, a deep old well. 
Where the spring was never dry. 
And the cool drops down from the mossy stones 
Were falling constantly ; 
And there never was water half so sweet 
As that in my little cup, 
Drawn up to the curb by the rude old sweep. 
Which my father’s hand set up ; 
And that deep old well, oh, that deep old well! 
I remember yet the splashing sound 
Of the bucket as it foil. • 
Our homestead had an ample hearth. 
Where at night we loved to meet; 
There my mother’s voice was always kind. 
And her voice was always sweet; 
And there I’ve sat on my father’s knee. 
And watched his thoughtful brow. 
With my childish hand in his raven hair— 
Tliat hair is silver now 1 
But that broad hearth’s light, oh, that broad 
hearth’s light! 
And my father’s look, and my mother’s smile, 
They are in ray heart to-night. 
A NEW ORLEANS HUMOR. 
“A correspondent of the Buffalo Ex¬ 
press writes from New Orleans as follows: 
“We had a pleasant incident on Tuesday last, 
which relieved for a little time the monoto¬ 
ny of our quiet existence. Perhaps you are 
aware that there is in New Orleans a ‘char¬ 
itable’ association yclept the ‘Sheet Iron 
Band’—that is, they are charitable indirect¬ 
ly. Whenever any old gentleman blessed 
with plethora of purse,- who should be think¬ 
ing of closing his earthly matters, manages 
to buy or coax some blooming maiden to 
marry him, or when some rich widow, ‘fair, 
fat and forty,’ entices a ‘nice young man, to 
her arms, forthwith appears a notice for the 
‘Band’ to meet at their rendezvous. They 
obey the order with ‘idicsome alacrity, are 
marshalled by their chief, and at dusk take 
up their line of march for the residence of 
the happy pair,'armed vfith*tin pane, crack¬ 
ed kettles, tin trura;^.v;to. hon^s, and in fact 
every iastruinent or -al^icle capable of pro¬ 
ducing a harsh and discordant sound. Ar¬ 
rived at the domicil of the probably uncon¬ 
scious couple, their leader gives the signal 
and the ‘concert’ commences with a grand 
overture, composed expressly for the ‘Band.’ 
Imagine, if you can. the racket, the awful 
uproar which two or iliree hundred men 
can make when they set to work with a 
will. It is loud enough to ‘vex the drowsy 
ear of night’ with a vengeance, and set any 
bride of weak nerves crazy. The ‘concert’ 
lasts until the bridegroom comes to terms, 
i, e. sends out a check for a handsome sum 
for the Orphan Asylum. Something of this 
kind we had on Tuesday evening. An old 
bachelor of forty-five had married a young 
maiden; the ‘Band’ was called together and 
had already taken up the line of march, 
when an envoy from the frightened brides 
groom met the head of the column bearing 
a check for'$250. This was satisfactory; 
the ‘Band’ gave three cheers for the happi¬ 
ness of the wedded pair, and withoutd elay 
the order was given ‘to the right about— 
march.’ Since the formation of the ‘Street 
Iron Band,’ they have actually extorted 
$45,000 as donations to the different chari¬ 
table institutions of the city.” 
The Secret of Success.— The secret of 
success is—what is it? It lies in the pur¬ 
suit of intelligence, temperance and frugal¬ 
ity. If the great fortunes which dazzle the 
misjudging poor be analyzed, they will be 
found, in ninety-nine out of a hundred cases, 
to have sprung and matured from calm, pa¬ 
tient and simple toil, which had an endu¬ 
rance and fiiitli behind, and an object and 
hope before it. So, too,, with success, in 
whatever man ,seeks to accomplish. A 
clown may stumble upon a splendid discov¬ 
ery in art or science, but a fi.xed general law 
provides that high achievements shall re¬ 
quire profound and ceaseless labor. The 
price of success, in isolated cases, is the de¬ 
votion of one’s life. He is a fool who trusts 
to any dream for possession or advancement, 
unless he connects with it the prudent ex¬ 
ercise of his own energy and judgment— 
The little spring in the mountain rock be¬ 
comes a brook, a torrent a wide rolling riv¬ 
er, and a part of the fathomless ocean, sim- 
ply by pushing steadily and bravely forward. 
The first fault that a man commits is to 
take theories for experience; the, second to 
consider his own experience as that of all. 
People seldom improve when they have 
no other model but themselves to co])y. 
THE LIVES OF BANE-NOTES. 
The average period which each denomi¬ 
nation of London notes remains in circula¬ 
tion, is shown by the following “ Account 
ef the number of days a bank-note issued 
in London remains in circulation— 51, 72- 
7 days; 10?., 77-0; 20?., 57-4; 30?., 18-9; 
40?., 13-7; 50?., 38-8; 100?., 29-4; 200?., 
12-7; 300?., 10-6; .500?., 11-8; 1000?., 11- 
1. The exceptions to these averages are 
few, and therefore remarkable. The time 
during which some notes remain unpresent¬ 
ed is reckoned by the century. On the 
27th of September, 1845, a 50?. note was 
presented, bearing date, 20th January, 
1743. Another for 10?., issued on the 19th 
of November, 1762, was not paid till the 
20th of April, 1843. There is a legend 
extant of the eccentric possessor of a thou¬ 
sand pound note, who kept it framed and 
glazed for a number of years, preferring to 
feast his eyes on it, to putting the amount 
it represented out at interest It was con¬ 
verted into gold, however, without a day’s 
loss of time by his heirs, on his demise. 
Stolen and lost notes are generally long 
absentees. The former usually make their 
appearance soon after some great horse 
race, or other sporting event, altered or dis¬ 
guised so as to deceive bankers, to whom 
the Bank of England furnishes a list of the 
numbers and dates of stolen notes. Care¬ 
lessness gives the bank enormous profits, 
against which the loss of a mere 30,000?. 
is but a trifle. Bank-notes have been known 
to light pipes, to wrap up snuff, to be used as 
curl-papers; and British tars, mad with rum 
and prize-money, have not unfrequently, in 
time of war, made sandwiches of them, and 
eaten them between bread and butter. In 
the forty years between the years 1792 and 
1812, there were outstanding notes (pre¬ 
sumed to have been lost or destroyed) 
amounting to one million three hundred 
and thirty odd thousand pounds; every shil¬ 
ling of which was clear profit to the bank. 
— Hoxmhold Words. 
RESTORING AND PRESERVING THE SIGHT. 
A FRIEND who had read the following 
valuable item of information, but who had 
forgotten which way to rub his eyes, for the 
loss of sight by age, requested us yesterday | 
to republish the process. It is as follows: 
For Near Sighiedness.—G\os,Q the eyes 
and press the fingera gently, from the nose 
outward, across the eyes. This flattens the 
pupil, and thus lengthens or extends the 
angle of vision. This should be done sev¬ 
eral times a day till short sightedness is j 
overcome. i 
For the Loss of Sight by Age .—Such as 
require magnifying glasses, pass the fingers 
or towel from the outer corner of the eyes 
inwardly, above and below ihe eyeball, 
pressing gently against them. This rounds 
them up, and preserves or restores the 
sight 
It has been already said that this is noth¬ 
ing new. The venerable John Quincy Ad¬ 
ams preserved his sight in this way, in full 
vigor until the day of his death. He told 
Lawyer Ford, of Lancaster, who wore glass¬ 
es, that if he would manipulate his eyes 
with his fingers from their external angles 
inwardly, he would soon be able to dispense 
with glasses. Ford tried it and soon re¬ 
stored his sight perfectly, and has since pre¬ 
served it by the continuance of this prac¬ 
tice, — Pennsylvanian. 
MAEING MICE USEFUL. 
A gentleman in Kirkaldy, Scotland, has 
trained a couple of mice, and invented ma¬ 
chinery for enabling them to spin cotton 
yam. The work is done on the tread-m'ill 
principle. It is so constructed that tlie 
common house-mouse is enabled to make 
atonement to society for past offences, by 
twisting, twining and reeling from 100 to 
120 threads per day, of the same length 
and quality with the enclosed hank, which 
I send as a specimen of their work, for the 
inspection of the curious. To complete this 
the little pedestrian has to run 10^ miles. 
This jom-ney it performs with ease every 
day. An ordinary mouse weighs only half 
an ounce. A half-penny’s worth of oat-mcal, 
at 15d. per peck, serves one of these tread- 
wheel culprits for the long period of five 
weeks. In that time it makes 110 threads 
per day, being the average 3,850 threads 
of 25 inches, which is nearly nine lengths 
of the stranded reel. A penny is paid here 
to women for every cut made in the ordi¬ 
nary way. At this rate a mouse earns 9d. 
every five weeks, which is one fiirthing per 
day, or 7s. 6d. per annum. Take 6d. off for 
board, and is. for machinery, there will arise 
63, of clear profit from every mouse yearly. 
The mouse employer was going to make 
application for the lease of an old empty 
house, the dimensions of which are 100 by 
50, and 50 in height, which, at a moderate 
Calculation will hold ten thousand mouse 
mills, suSicient room being left for keepers 
and some hundreds of spectators. Allowing 
£200 for rent and task-masters, £500 for 
the interest, £10,000 to erect machinery, 
there will be a balance of £2,300 per an- 
MISQU0TATI0N8 FROM SCRIPTURE. 
“ God tempers ..the wind to the shorn 
lamb,” A smooth line from Sterne. Com¬ 
pare Isa. 27: 8. 
“ In the midst of life we are in death.” 
Drawn from the burial service. 
“The merciful man is merciful to his 
beasi” The- Scripture is, “A righteous man 
regardeth thaJife of his beast.” Prov. 12: 
10 . 
“ A nation shall be born in a day.”— 
“Shall a nation be bom at once?” Isa. 
66 : 8 . 
“ Iron sharpeneth iron, so doth a man the 
countenance of his friend.” “ Iron shar¬ 
peneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the coun¬ 
tenance of the friend.” Prov. 27: 17. 
“That he who runs may read.” “ That 
he may run that readeth it.” Heb. 2: 2. 
“ Owe no man anything but love.”— 
“ Owe no man anything, but to love one 
another.” Rom. 13: 8, 
fin the following passages the italics are 
not in Scripture.] • 
“ There am I in the midst of them, and 
that to bless them!' Corap. Ex. 20: 24. 
“ That the word ef the Lord may have \ 
free course and run and be glorified.” 2 
Thess. 3: 1. 
“ Above all that we ask or think, or are 
worthy to receive." Eph. 3: 20. 
“ With him a plenteous redemption, that 
he may be sought unto." Ps. 103: 7. 
Prayer that “ what was sown in weak¬ 
ness, may be raised in power.” Comp. 1 
Cor. 15: 43. 
“ Neither hath it entered into the heart 
of man to conceive the things,” Script: 
“Neither have entered into the heart of 
man the things,” etc.; “but^God hath re¬ 
vealed them unto us by his spirit” 1 Cor. 
2; 9. __ 
FOB LIT’TLE READERS. 
Don’t be eye-servants. Never slight or 
slacken your hand because the eye of your 
parent or teacher is not upon you—but 
strive to be more studious, more orderly, 
more persevering, more dutiful and obedi¬ 
ent Remember the eye of God is upon 
you, the Searcher of all hearts, who will 
bring every secret thought, word and action 
into judgment Some children are loose, 
idle, slack, play truant, act the hypocrite, 
slight their work, or neglect it entirely, un¬ 
less they are watched, drilled and driven— 
driven into measures: shameful! .Do such 
children honor their parents? Are they 
happy ? Is not God angry with them ev¬ 
ery day? Children,God says, “Obey your 
parents in all things,” yes, “ in all things, 
for this is w?ll pleasing in the sight of the 
Lord.” 
Never tease. When your parents or 
a^^o.hers say “ nay," bo etill, say "Amen, all 
right, /ather knows best, I mijst submit 
cheerfully, without a scowl or murmur.”— 
A spirit of teasing is a spirit of selfishness 
and rebellion. It is as much as to say, 
“ Father, I’ll have my way; I know best — 
Mother, I know better tlian you, let me do as 
I please.” 
£e neat. Jack Spruce was a neat boy. 
He had a brush for his clothes, and kept 
them clean and nice. He would not run 
out into the mud, and thus splash his legs 
and wet his feet, nor did he kick up the 
dust; and when he came in he would rub 
his feet on the mat, and hang up his hat up¬ 
on his own hook. No one saw him with 
dirt upon his hands, nor with a rough head 
MAEING MICE USEFUL. SO he was at all times fit to be seen. 
—— He did not tear his book or blot it> or ink 
A gentleman in Kirkaldy, Scotland, has his hands at school.— Golden Rule. 
jhinery for enabling them to spin cotton A A iT , ^ 
pm. The work is done on the tread-m'ill 
orincinle. It is so constructed that, th^ 
COItlHiOH hoilSG-IIlOUSG is GnablGd. to m^ko ** Atte*npt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
atonement to society for past offences, by Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
auu iCCUitg irum lOO lO GTfnOTlAPTTTrAT PTCTPlurA 
120 threads per day, of the same length RAP HICAL ENIGMA, 
and quality with the enclosed hank, which i am composed of 21 letters. 
I send as a specimen of their work, for the My i, 2,8,16,21, 6 is a county in Georgia, 
inspection of the curious. To complete this 1^* island in the West Indies, 
nA • x. J. *1 My 3, 18, 5, 10 IS a county m Pennsylvania, 
the little pedestiian has to run 10*^ miles. ]\|y 4 ^ 12 , 17, 1 1 is a county in Tennesee. 
This joiu’ney it performs with ease every My 5, !i, 15, 21 is a province of Persia, 
day. An ordinary mouse weighs only half .i’ ^ "l^rginia. 
nn ounce. A huu-penny s worth of OAt-mcnl, My 8, 2, 19, 13 is ono of tho United States, 
at 15d. per peck, serves one of these tread- My 9,15,18 is a department of Fr^ce. 
wheel culorits for tho lonrr oorinrl rvf Hvo 6 is a river in Westphalia, 
wneei cuipriis lor mo long periOU or nve My 11, 2,17,21 is a county inTenneaee. 
weeks. In that time it makes 110 threads My 12,15,1,17, 6 is a county in New York. 
- 1 —:— ii-., - r. , My 13,19, 11. 17 is a town in Naples. 
My 14, 8 , 19, ^12,1. 2 is a county in Georgia. 
My 15, 6 , 2, l?fc a county in North Carolina. 
My 15, 10, 18,*, 17, 12 is a river in England. 
My 17, 6 , 1, 10 is a town in the Venetian territory. 
My 18, 13, 6 , 20, 11, 17, 21 is a town in Ireland. 
My 19, 2, 5, 16, 10 is a seaport in Asiatic Turkey. 
My 20, 8 , 13, 6 , 15 is a county in Alabama. 
My 21, 16, 2, 10, 18, 6 , 1 is a county in Virgiiua. 
My whole was a great event. 
O’ Answer in two weeks. 
RIDDLES. 
In Holy Writ you’ll find it said, 
From Adam’s rib was woman made; 
Now, if you’ll take one-fiftli from a woman, 
What remains will make Father Adam. 
My first is tho name of a fish in the sea ; 
My last you would say to a friend at the door ; 
And my whole works in wood, who so handy os he? 
Framing of houses or laying a floor ? 
(LJ’ Answers in two weeks. 
Rum*_ _ _ ANS’WSRS TO ENIGMAS &o,. IN NO. 40 . 
Most of the miseries of life result from Answer to Enigma;— Thomas O’Brikr, Collins, 
our straying from the path which leads to Erie county. N. Y. 
content Algebraic Problem not answered. 
