MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
NOBLEMEN. 
BY C. n. STUAKT. 
The noblest men I know on Eartli, 
Are men whose hands are brown with toil 
Who, backed by no ancestral graves, 
Hew down the wood.s and till the soil. 
And win thereby a prouder fame. 
Than follows king or warrior’s name. 
The working men ! whate’er their task. 
To carve the stone or bear the hod— 
They wear upon their honest brows 
The royal stJimp and seal of Gou ! 
And brighter are their drops of sweat 
Than diamonds in a coronet 1 
God bless the noble working men. 
Who rear the cities, of the plain ; 
Who dig the mines and build the ships. 
And drive the commerce of the main ; 
God bless them '> for their swarthy hands 
Have wrought tho glory of all lands. 
DON’T FEET. 
Has n neighbor injured you ? 
l)on’t fret.— 
You will come off the best; 
He’s the most to answer for, 
.Never mind it let it rest; 
Don’t fret. 
Has a horrid lie been told ? 
Don’t fret— 
It will run itself to death, 
If you let it quite alone. 
It will die for want of breatli; 
Don’t fret. 
Arc your enemies at work ? 
Don’t fret— 
They can't injure you a whit; 
If they find you heed them not, 
They will soon ho glad to quit; 
Don’t fret. 
Is adversity your lot? 
Don’t fret— 
I’ortune’s wheel keeps turning roumi ; 
Every spoke w'ill reach the top, 
Which, like you, is going down ; 
Don’t fret. 
litErari] anb Mlmlkmum. 
THE STRANGE PROYIDENCE. 
BY T. S. ARTHUR. 
“ A STRANGE, sad Providence!” siglted 
one of a company of mourners, assembled 
to pay the last tribute of respect and affec¬ 
tion to a departed sister, who had been cut 
down in the very flower of womanhood, 
and at a time when a thousand of the ten- 
derest ties were binding her to the earth. 
“ What a strange, sad, mysterious Provi¬ 
dence.” 
“ Strange and sad enough,” was the so¬ 
ber response. “ Ah me! the ways of Him 
who sitteth amid clouds and shadows are 
dark and impenetrable. She was a thought¬ 
ful, loving mother.” 
“ None could have been more so,” ans¬ 
wered the first speaker. 
“ And her little ones need her care now, 
perhaps, more tlian they will ever need it 
again. Tender, innocent lambs! the chil¬ 
ling winds will blow too I’oughly upon them.” 
“Ah me! it is strange! very strange!” 
added the other. “ I cannot comprehend 
it. Why should God remove a true-heart¬ 
ed mother from the guardianship of her 
children ?” 
“ Often and often have I asked myself 
that question; but there has come no satis¬ 
factory reply.” 
But while these friends of the departed 
one are vainly stiiving to penetrate this 
mysterious Providence, let us glance back 
a little and see if some incidents in her life 
will not throw light upon the subject 
It was an evening in early spring. The 
day was warm for the season; so warm 
that the lingering fires of the departed 
winter oppressed the atmosphere, and the 
windows and doors were, iii consequence, 
thrown open to admit the fresher air without 
It was earjy' in the evening, and Mrs. 
Carlton, a bride of a few weeks, had seated 
herself at an open window, with her neck 
and part of her bosom bared to the in¬ 
pressing air, that came in cool and loaded 
with vapor. 
“ Why Clara!” exclaimed Mr. Carlton, on 
entering tho room and seeing the exposed 
position of his thoughtless young wife.— 
“ llow imprudent you are!” And he came 
fi.)i'ward quickly to close the window. 
“Oh, don’t shut it down, don’t!” inter- 
j)Oscd (fiara. “ The air is so refreshing.” 
There was a slight huskiness in her voice 
as she spoke, which was perceived by her 
ljusband, who, without hesitating, closed 
the window, remarking as he did so— 
“It is wrong to expose yourself in this 
way. Clara, dear, you might take a cold 
that would cost you your life.” 
Mr, Carlton spoke seriously, and he felt as 
he spoke. 
“Oh dear, no!” lightly returned the 
young bride. “ I’m not so tender as that. 
Fresh air vrili never kill me.” 
“ No, not dry, fresh air, blowing upon 
your hands and face. But, this evening 
the atmosphere is loaded with vapor, and 
you have thrown your handkerchief from 
your neck. Already I can perceive that 
ypu have taken cold.” 
But Mrs. Carlton made light of her hus¬ 
band’s concern, and, soon after went and 
stood in the door without protecting her 
neck and bosom with a shawl or handker¬ 
chief. The consequences were such as 
might have been naturally expected. On 
the next morning she had a cough, with 
slight ferbile symptoms, and a pain and 
soreness in her breast Her form being 
slight, her chest somewhat narrow, and her 
constitution by no means robust, the effects 
of this cold were more painfully marked 
than is usually’^ the case in such forms of 
indisposition. Several weeks passed before 
she recovered from its effects; or we might 
say, from its apparent effects—the seeds ol 
disease, which had been sown in her sys¬ 
tem remained. 
A few weeks later, at a large party giv¬ 
en to Mrs. Carlton by a friend, as a bridal 
party, she danced till nearly two o’clock, 
notwithstanding a slight indisposition which 
had manifested itself early on the previ¬ 
ous day. Moreover, she ate several times 
of rich cake, and other indigestible things, 
drank wine, and, to add the “last pound to 
the camel’s back,” took freely of coffee and 
oysters at the close of the party. 
On the following morning, in attempting 
to rise at ten o’clock, she felt a sharp pain 
through her left temple. Soon followed an 
attack of dim sightedness, accompanied by 
a sense of numbness in her tongue and 
along one of her arms. Faintness and 
a deathly .sickness succeeded; and Mrs. 
Carlton threw herself back upon her pillow 
with a groan. For hours she suffered from 
this sick^ness, which was accompanied by a 
most distressing pain through her left eye, 
that went deeply boring into her temple.— 
When at length under the active treatment 
of a physician—which “ active ” treatment, 
was added to the exhausting effects of the 
sickness — the violence of the attack abated, 
Mrs. Carlton was in a low, weak, nervous 
state, from which she did not recover for 
some time. The least exertion was ac¬ 
companied by a tremor and feeling of las¬ 
situde. 
Undeterred by this serious reaction upon 
a delicate constitution, Mrs. Carlton, in the 
face of warning and remonstrance on the 
part of her husband, continued to expose 
herself to cold, damp airs, while unprotect¬ 
ed with proper clothing; and to over¬ 
fatigue, when tempted by the allurements 
of pleasure. And thus it went on, from 
month to month, and from year to year, her 
frame gradually losing its vigor, and the 
beautiful freshness of her young cheeks 
fading away into a sickly paleness. Yet 
strange to say, Mrs. Carlton was as little 
mindful of her health as before, and ex¬ 
pressed herself with impatience when her 
husband sought to check her imprudence. 
Three days after Mrs. Carlton’s first 
sweet babe saw the light, her husband, on 
returning home found her sitting up in bed 
hem-stitching a fine cambric handkerchief. I 
“ Why Clara!” he exclaimed, “ isn’t that 
very imprudent?” 
“ Oh dear, no!” she returned. “ I feel al¬ 
most as well as ever I did. And it’s im¬ 
possible to lie here and do nothing.” 
“ It is very imprudent, Mr. Carlton,” said 
the nurse, seriously. “ I have tried my 
best to induce her to remain perfectly qui¬ 
et. But she will not listen to me. It will 
be all the worse for her. I’ve known 
many a woman to shorten her life by just 
such conduct as this.” 
“Come! Give me that work.” And as 
Mr. Carlton said this, in a firm voice, he 
took the sewing from his wife’s hands, and 
then, with a gentle pressure, forced her 
back upon the pillow. This done he ad¬ 
ded— 
“ How can you be so thoughtless, Clara ? 
Are health and life of so little value that 
you hold them in light estimation.” 
“ Oh dear! You’re always croaking about 
health,” returned Mrs. Carlton, in a half 
playful, half serious manner. “ I’m well 
enough. It’s all nonsense to keep me lying 
here.” 
“No, Madam; take m}- word for it, it is 
not,” spoke up the nurse. “ Upon perfect 
quiet, freedom from excitement and bodily 
exertion, depend your future health. Dis¬ 
regard the injunction of your physician— 
he spoke very plainly to you to-day—and 
you not only shorten your life, but mar 
your happiness, by bodily pain and self-up- 
bi aidinas, during the brief years that are 
left to you.” 
The manner as well as the words of the 
nurse, rather startled the imprudent young- 
mother, and she turned to where her sleep¬ 
ing baby lay by her side, and, taking it in 
her arms, drew it, with an emotion of ten¬ 
derness, to her bo.som. 
On the next morning, it was with Mrs. 
Carlton as the nurse had told her, over and 
over again, it would be. Her over exertion 
had produced fever, and she w-as so sick 
that she could not raise herself from her 
pillow. When the Doctor came, and saw 
her condition, he looked sober, and rather 
sharply reproved the nurse, on learning the 
cause of this change, for having permitted 
his patient to do herself so serious an injury. i 
A day or two elapsed and the worst symp¬ 
toms abated; but Mrs. Carlton remained 
very weak, and could only sit up in her bed 
for a few minutes at a time. After that, 
her strength began to return, but it came 
back slowly. Imprudent as before, she over 
exerted herself at every stage of her con¬ 
valescence, so that at the time when full 
health should have been, regained, she was 
yet a drooping invalid. 
And so it went on. The wife and moth¬ 
er, upon whose life and health hung the 
comfort and happiness of the dearest objects 
in life, continued, almost daily, to violate the 
commonest laws of physical order; and daily, 
in consequence, was she undermining the 
foundations of health. * 
Five years have elapsed since Mrs. Carl¬ 
ton became a mother; and again'she has 
given birth to a lovely babe, the third which 
has blessed their union. 
Four days have elapsed since the birth 
of this child, and, earlier by some hours than 
is usual for him,- Mr. Carlton has returned 
from business. He has walked the streets 
hurriedly, and his face wears an anxious ex¬ 
pression. As he enters, he meets the Doc¬ 
tor, who is just leaving. 
“ How is Mrs. Carlton ?” he asks, in a 
voice of concern. 
The Doctor looks serious and shakes his 
head. 
“No worse, I hope!” 
She is no better.” 
“ There seemed to be a favorable change 
at dinner time.” 
“ So there was, but-.” 
There is a pause. The doctor adds— 
“ But she would get up for a little while, 
insisting that she felt stiong enough to do 
so. In consequence, all her worst .symp¬ 
toms have returned, and we have now every 
thing to fear. Keep her very quiet, as you 
value her life. I will come around again 
before 9 o’clock.” 
A long, tremulous sigh, comes up from 
the oppressed and troubled bosom of Mr. 
Carlton, and he passes up to the sick cham¬ 
ber of his wife. He starts, and a cold fear 
runs through his veins, as his eyes rest up¬ 
on her countenance, for he sees therein a 
great change. There is a deeper shadow 
upon it; and his .stricken heart tells him 
that it has fallen from the wing of death.— 
With his lips he touches her forehead—it is 
cold and clammy, and he almost starts at 
the chilling contact. He takes her thin and 
colorless hand —it, too, is cold. With a 
strong effort he masters his feelings, lest 
their exhibition should disturb, and thus in¬ 
jure his wife, in whose pulses life was beat¬ 
ing with a feeble motion. 
The hours pass on. There is a stillness 
through the house, for the inmates sj)eak to 
each other in low whispers, or walk through 
the rooms and passages stealthily and noise¬ 
lessly. Alas! Hope had failed. The wife 
and mother is about to die. Hark! She is 
uttering something in a low, murmui-ing 
voice, and a sudden light has fla.shed over 
her face. What does she say ? 
“ My children!” 
One by one they are brought to her.— 
Willy sweet ;^ced, bright-<jyed, loving- 
hearted Willy — is lifted, sleeping, from his 
little bed, and laid beside his dying mother. 
Grace, with her long, dark lashes resting 
upon her sweet )’onng cheeks, and all un¬ 
conscious of the sad loss she is about to sus¬ 
tain, is held for her to impress a last kiss on 
lips and brow and cheek; and then the 
feeble infant, to which she gave birth a few 
days before, and towards which her moth¬ 
er’s heart is yearning with a most intense 
affection, is laid against her bosom. A little 
while she looks upon these treasures of her 
heart, and then lifts her tearful eyes to the 
face of her husband. Her lips quiver for a 
moment, and tlien come forth, sobbing, the 
words— 
“ Oh, how can I leave you all! Who 
will be a mother to my children?—who 
will love them as I love them? Oh! it is 
hard!” 
Her lids had closed, and her voice has 
sunk into silence. But tears glistened on 
her cheeks, and the expression of her pale 
face is sad beyond conception. 
For half an hour a stillness like that of 
death broods over the chamber; and now 
the last struggle has come. The overtried 
and overworked physical system can no 
longer re-act upon the influent life of the 
spirit, and death quickl3'' closes the brief 
earthly existence of one who hoped to live 
for her husband and children, yet commit¬ 
ted, dail)’^, some act of violence against the 
unchanging laws of health. 
There is a bereaved husband and three 
motherless children left in the hushed and 
lonely house.' “ What a strange, sad Prov 
idence!” This is said on every side. 
Is it strange? Was it Providence? 
Let the reader glance back at the brief 
history of Mrs. Carlton, and answer these 
questions for him or herself 
The longer, I live, the more I am certain 
that the great difference between men, the 
great and the significant, is energy—invin¬ 
cible determination — an honest purpose 
once fixed—and then, death or victoi-jL— 
That quality will do anything that can be 
done in the world; and no talents, no cir¬ 
cumstances, no opportunity will make a 
two-legged creature a man without it. 
A Beautiful Sentiment. —A nameless 
French author truly says:—The modest de¬ 
portment of those who are truly wise, when 
contrasted with the assuming air of the igno¬ 
rant, may be compared to the different ap¬ 
pearances of wheat, which, while its ear is 
empty, holds up its head proudly, but, as 
soon as it is filled with grain, bends mod¬ 
estly down, and withdraws from observation. 
SuniDrouB null Imusiiig. ^mil^’0 Cornu. 
KEEP YOUR TEMPER. 
Mr. C., of Newbury port,,was one of the 
irrascibles. Many a story is told of his fret¬ 
ful temper. One winter, his son, who kept 
a grocery in that town, was elected as rep¬ 
resentative to the State Legislature. The 
store was left in charge of the old man and 
a boy. One day, whilst the boy was gone 
to dinner, the old man happened to have a 
flood of customers, all at a time; one lad 
wanted a cent’s worth of sand put up in a 
paper—another, a cent’s worth of milk, and 
wanted to borrow the measure to carry it 
home in; while a little, girl was waiting for 
a cent’s worth of black pepper, which the 
old man was trying to put up for her; the 
paper was too small, and in putting it in an 
envelope, he got some of .the tittilating 
powder in his eyes, which started the tears, 
and his temper, which had been brewing 
and simmering during the whole operation, 
now burst forth: “I wish the gin’ral court 
was in Tophet!” growled he forth—“What 
in creation did they choose my son for; yes, 
and he was a fool to accept it, too—to go 
and leave his shop with me to take care of 
—pretty doings!” Here a little boy came 
in for a cent’s worth of vinegar, in a hurry. 
“A cent’s worth of vin-e-gar!” drawled out 
the old man, maliciously— “ a cent’s worth 
of vin-e-gar! And I ’.spose you want that 
put in two papers! I wish the old store 
was sunk in Merrimac river, with the whole 
gin’ral court inside on’t—I do, by ginger!” 
Sweet Kate was heard one day to sigh. 
With beauty lo.st, I’d wi.sli to die.’’ 
‘‘ Oh, no! ” said Torn, witli iiiimor quaint, 
“ .\ot wish to </ye, but merely 
.Some say that .Mary’s breast is steel,— 
'I'lie lying ra.sc.ils have forgotten, 
That bosoms now have eca.sed to feel. 
And wliy? Beeause they’re made of eotton. 
“Julius, do you know the halls of the 
Montezummers ?” 
“ Ob course I does; he’s de lyudder of 
General Taylor, and was nussed by Sarali 
Gordon, (Cerro Gordo.) 
“ Why how de darkey talks; by-and-bye 
colored men will know as much as the mi- 
lishv.” 
A Mr. Wilkinson has written to a wes¬ 
tern pajier, informing the public that he 
thinks the newspaper-record of his death is 
incorrect. He says, to the best of his 
knowledge, he is alive, and would be kick¬ 
ing, if he could find the author of the report. 
A Western Gkator haranguing his au¬ 
dience on the vast extent and overwhelming 
population of tho American republic ex¬ 
claims by way of climax, “ Faneuil Hall was 
its cradle, but whar, wliar shall we find 
limber enough for its coffin!” 
A Wag who had listened to a long and 
insipid addre.ss delivered before a public as¬ 
sembly, Avas asked how he liked the speaker. 
‘‘ AYry well,” he replied, “ to-night has au- 
(jered well for his fiituVe success—as a bore" 
“James, what are the olfactory organs?” 
asked a teacher. “ 'f hey’s the machinery 
in factories where oil is made,” tvas the 
prompt reply. The master lifted his cow¬ 
hide, but tiie next instant went into .spasms. 
Dick Greely courted a girl by the name 
of Pond. Having a quarrel with her one 
day, he went off swearing he was not fond 
of poxits though he had a Pond that w'as 
full of them. 
A Puzzler. —If the apple which William 
Tell shot from the head of his son gave lib¬ 
erty to Switzerland, how many bushels, of 
the same size, would it take to make a bar¬ 
rel of cider, from the same orchard ? 
Punch knows an instance of a single old 
gentleman in London, old Father Thames, 
who leads a “ cat and dog life” in the most 
literal sense of the term, as a walk by the 
side of his bed will amply testify. 
Somebody, in quoting Gen. Jackson, says; 
“The Union — it must be preserved”— 
Well, isn’t it going to be ? In our opinion, 
our wiseacres in Congress have pickled it 
pretty wmll by this time. 
“What is that dog .barking at?” asked a 
fop, whoso boots were more polished than 
his ideas. “ Why,” replied a bystander, 
“because he sees another puppy in your 
boots.” 
“I wonder this child don’t go to sleep,” 
said an anxious mother, to a female friend. 
“Well, I don’t,” replied the lady. “It’s 
face is so dirty that it can’t shut its eyes.” 
Generous. —A director of one of our 
banks not only gave a cent to a beggar the 
other day, but he told him to keep the 
change. There’s a heart as is a heart! 
We saw a man out in all the rain, yester¬ 
day, Avithout his umbrella. He said the only 
one he had was neAA^ and he Avan’t a going 
to soil it by getting it Avet! A prudent man! 
An Irishman Avriting a sketch of his life^ 
says he early ran away from his father, be¬ 
cause he discovered that he Avas only his 
uncle. 
“ Nea’-er put oft’ till to-morrow Avhat you 
can do to-day,” said an advising mother to 
her child. “ Well, then, mammy, let us eat 
the cranberry pie that’s in the safe,” was 
the child’s precocious reply. 
“ Attempt tlie end, and never stand to doubt; 
Notliing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 23 lett-ers; 
My 1, 4, 7, 18 is a terrritory in the U. .S. 
My 1. .5, 12, Ifi, 23 is a bay in Texas. 
My 3, 1(1, 11, 23, 18 is a sea in Europe. 
My 4, J, 10, 21, 14i.sa town in .Sardinia. 
My 5, 10, 3, IG i.s a lake in X. America. 
My 6, 9, 16 is a river in Scotland. 
My 7, 1, 23, 4. 11,2 is a town in Texas. 
My 8, .'A, 10, 22, il, 10 is .'i county in I’enn.sylvama. 
My 9, 20, 2, 11, 23 is a town in Ireland. 
My 10, 7,.22, 11, 2, 16 i.s a town in Wisconsin. 
My 11, 14, 20 is a river in Germany. 
My 12, 18, 3, 14, 7 is a country in Asia. 
My 13, 8, 21, 4, 16 is a cotnity in Mississippi. 
My 14, l!l, 21, 10, 20 is a town in Scotland. 
My 15, 5, 12, 22, 1!) is a town in Arabia. 
My 16, 7, 23, 4 is a cape in Australia. 
My 17, 11, 20, 12,3, 14, 2, 19, 4, 21 is a town tn 
Texas. 
Mj' 18, 3, 4, 4, 16, 10, .5, 14 is an European Island. 
My 19, 23; 4,10, 19, 22,18, 7, 2is .atown in Russia. 
My 20, 7, 23, 18, 1, 13 is a town in New Hamp¬ 
shire. 
My 21, 23, 5, 10 isa river in Germany. 
My 22, 1, 16, 20, 12, 19 is a town in Eqnador. 
My 23, 1, 8, 19, 4, 10, 7 is an Island in the Indian 
Ocean. 
My whole is the name of one of the most re¬ 
spectable and prosperous institutions of the present 
age. 
OU’ Answer in two weeks. 
A RIDDLE. 
Dksti.nkd by fate to guard the crown, 
Aloft in air I reign ; 
.‘Above the monarch’s haughty froAvn, 
Or statesman’s plotting btain. 
In hostile fields, when dangi^'s near, 
I’m found amidst alarms ; 
In crowds Avhere peaceful beaux appear. 
I instant II}" to arms. 
10“ Answer in two weeks. 
ENIGMA. 
.Mv first a distance siguifios ; 
My second's formed by congellation ; 
.My whole is what few men despise 
In this or any other nation.. 
(O^ Answer in two weekk 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
PROBLEM. 
RKguiKKU the number of gallons of water con¬ 
tained in a circular cistern, 8J feet in diameter and 
7 feet 3 inches deep, but in which there arc 3 thin 
stones, the first being spherical, the diameter of 
which is 13 inches, the second a square pyramid, 
each side of the base being 15 inches, and 2 feet 
high, and the third a perfect cube each side of 
which is 1 foot. Jl'vex.al. 
Hoffman’s Ferry, Nov. 4, 1850. > 
0“ Answer in two weeks. 
ANSAVEES TO ENIGMAS IN NO. 44. 
Answer to Enigma.—Fit re .Schools .vnd Free 
People. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma,—Ilii.i.iiias 
«.\TE Fish Mauket. 
.Answer to Riddle.—A Mask. 
Answer to Rebus.—The letter K. 
Answer to Problem.—Length 68 Rous.. Breadth 
32 Rons. 
■WHAT “THEY” SAY OF THE RURAL. 
* * *■ It i.s jn.st tlie pajicr for tho farmer, and 
takes like wild-fire in this section. We cheerfully 
recommend it to all. Wc notice among the receipts 
already received, that our excellent Postmaster has 
transmitted thro’ tho mail nearly $.50 for tho Rural 
New-Yorker. .Success to the enterprise.— Ovid Bee. 
It is in quarto form, of beautiful typograpliy, and 
adorned by elegant wood engravings. Mr. .Aloore 
is well qualified to conduct a popular journal, and 
he is assisted by L. B. Lanworthy, I'^sq., I’rofessor 
Wcthcrell, and other highly competent gentlemen. 
—liochesler America?i. 
Moore's Rural New-Yorker is one of the 
finest things in the way of a weekly paper that has 
lately made its appearance. All the subjects indi¬ 
cated by its title arc ably treated in its columns, and 
its pages are beautified by clean and neat type, and 
a plenty of engravings.— Utica Teetotaller. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, Bf 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprieter, 
Publication Office in Barns’ Block, [No. 1, 2d floor,] 
corner State and Buffalo streets. 
Terms, in Advance: 
Two Dollarc a Year — $1 for six months. To 
Clubs and Agents as follows: — Three Copies, one 
year, for .$5; Six Copies for $10; Ten Copies (and 
one to Agent,) for $15. All moneys received by 
mail will he acknowledged in the paper, and re ■ 
ceipts 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. 
[LF Subscription money, properly enclosed, may 
be sent by mail at our risk. 
TERMS OF ADVERTISING: 
A limited number of appropriate advertisements 
will be inserted in the Nevv-Y'^orker, at tho rate of 
50 cents per square (twelve lines or Jess,) for the first 
insertion, and 25 cents for each subsequent publica¬ 
tion. Casual ad vertisments to be paid for in advance. 
Advertisements not accompanied with sjiccial direc¬ 
tions, will — at the option of the Publislier,— bo in¬ 
serted until forbid, and charged accordingly. 
Notices relative to Meetings, &:c. of Agricul¬ 
tural, Horticultural, Mechanical and Educational 
Associations, published gratuitously. 
Publishing Agents, 
WHO WILL RECEIVE SUBSCRIPTIONS, AND FURNISH 
OF THE RURAL NEW-YORKER: 
ELON C03ISTOCK, Rome, N. Y. 
Mr. C. is also general agent for Oneida County. 
T. S. HAWKS, Buffalo. 
W. L. PALMER, Syracuse, N. Y. 
I. R. TREMBLY, Dansville. 
03= Also Agent for Naples and Hornellsville. 
E. HOPKINS, Lyons, N. Y. 
STEAM PRESS OF A. STRONG <t CO, 
