MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER; AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
^ortical. 
THE CORN SONG. 
BY J. G. WHITTIER. 
Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoard! 
Heap nigli the golden corn! 
No richer gift has autumn poured 
From out her lavish horn! 
Let other lands exulting glean 
The apple from the pines, 
The orange from the glossy green, 
The cluster from the vines ! 
We better love the hardy gift. 
Our rugged vales bestow. 
To cheer us when tlie storm shall drift 
Our harvest fields with snow. 
Through vales of grass and meads of flowers. 
Our plows their furrows made. 
While on the hills the sun and showers. 
Of changeful April played. 
We dropped the seeds o’er hill and plain, 
Reneath the sun of May, 
And frightened from our sprouting grain 
The robber crows away. 
All through the long bright days of June, 
■ Its leaves grew green and fair. 
And waved in hot midsummer’s noon. 
Its soft and yellow hair. 
And now with Autumn’s moonlit eves. 
Its harvest time has come, 
We pluck away the frosted leaves. 
And bear the treasure home. 
There, richer than the fabled gifts 
Apollo show’cred of old. 
Fair hands the broken grain shall sift. 
And knead its meal of gold. 
Let vapid idlers loll in silk. 
Around their costly board; 
Give me the bowl of samp and milk 
By homespun beauty poured. 
Where’er the wide old kitchen hearth 
Sends up its smoky curls. 
Who will not thank thee kindly earth, 
And bless our farmer girls 1 
Then shame on all the proud and vain. 
Whose folly laughs to scorn. 
The blessings of our hardy grain,— 
Our wealth of golden corn. 
Let earth withhold her goodly root^ 
Let mildew blight the rye, 
Give to the worm the orchard’s fruit, 
The wheat field to the fly: 
But let the good old crop adorn 
The hills our fathers trod. 
Still tet us, for his golden corn. 
Send up our thanks to God; 
lifernuj nnh Mmlkmms. 
THE SILVER TANKARD. 
The following remarkable narrative I 
have told substontially as it was related to 
me. The main incidents are true, though, 
doubtless, as the story has been handed 
down from generation to generation, it has 
been colored by the imagination. The Sil¬ 
ver Tankard, as an heir-loom has descended 
in the family, the property of the daughter 
named Mehetabel, and is now in possess¬ 
ion of the lady of a clergyman in Massa¬ 
chusetts. 
On the slope of land opening itself to the 
south in a thickly settled town in the State 
of Maine, some hundred and more years 
ago, stood a /arm-house, to which the epi¬ 
thet of comfortable might be applied. The 
old forest came down to the back, of it, in 
front were cultivated fields, beyond which 
was ground partially cleared, full of pine 
stumps, and here and there, standing erect, 
the giant trunks of trees which the fire had 
scorched and blackened, though it had fail¬ 
ed to overthrow them. The house stood at 
the very verge of the settlement, so that 
from it no cottage could be seen’; the near¬ 
est neighbor .W 4 S distant about six_ miles. 
Daniel Gordon, the owner and ocupant of 
the premises we have described, had cho¬ 
sen this valley in the wilderness, a wide, 
rich tract of land, not only as his home, but 
prospectively, as the home of his children 
and his children’s children. He was willing 
to be far off from men, that his children 
might have room to settle around him. He 
was looked upon as the rich man of the dis¬ 
trict, well known over all that part of the 
country. His house was completely finish¬ 
ed and was large for the times, having two 
stories in front and one behind, with a slo¬ 
ping roof; it seemed as if it leaned to the 
south to offer its back to the cold winds 
from the Northern mountains. It was full 
of the comforts of life—the furniture even 
a little showy fora Puritan; when the table 
w’as set, there was, to use the Yankee 
phrase, “ considerable ” silver plate, among 
which a large tankard stood pre-eminent. 
The silver had been the property of his 
father, and was brought over from the moth- 
er-countrj’'. 
Now, we go back to this pleasant valley 
as it was in a bright and beautiful morning- 
in the month of June. It was Sunday, 
and though early, the two sons of Daniel 
Gordon, and. tl^ hired man, had gone to 
meeting on foot, down to the “ Landing,” a 
little village on the banks of the river ten 
miles distant. Daniel himself was standing 
at the door with the horse and chaise ready 
and waiting for his good wife, who had 
been somewhat detained; for even then, in 
those primitive ages, the women would be 
a little backward—for the last w’ord or the 
last house-keeping duty. He was standing 
on the door step enjoying the freshness of 
the morning with a little pride in his heart 
perhaps, as he cast his eyes over the extent 
of his possessions spread- out before him.— 
At that instant a neighbor of six miles dis¬ 
tant, rode up on horseback, and beckoned 
to him from the gate of the enclosure around 
the house. 
“ Good morning, neighbor Gordon,” said, 
he, “ I have come out of my way in going 
to meeting, to tell you that Tom Smith, that 
daring thief, with two others, has been 
prowling about in these parts, and that you 
had better look out, lest you have a visit.— 
I have got nothing in my house to bring 
them there, but they may be after the sil¬ 
ver tankard and silver spoons. I have often 
told you that these things Avere not fit for 
these new parts. Tom is a bold fellow, but 
I suppose the fewer he meets -when he 
goes to steal the better. I don’t think it 
safe for you all % go to meeting to-day ; 
but I am in a hurry, neighbor, so good 
bye!” 
This communication placed our friend 
Daniel in an unpleasant dilemma It had 
been settled that no one was to be left alone 
but his daughter Mehetabel, a beautiful 
girl about nine years old. Shall I stay or 
go, was the question. Daniel was a Puri¬ 
tan ; he had strict notions of the duty of 
worshiping God in His temple, and he had 
faith that God would bless him only as he 
did his duty; but then he was a father, 
and his little Hitty was the light and joy of 
his eyes. 
But these Puritans were stern and un¬ 
flinching. He soon settled the point. “ I 
won’t even take Hitty with me, for it will 
make her cowardly. The thieves may not 
come—neighbor Perkins may be mistaken; 
and if they do come to my house, they will 
not hurt that child. At any rate, she is in 
God’s hands, and we will go to worship 
Him who never forsakes those who put 
their trust in Him.” As he settled this, 
the girl and the mother came out ; the 
mother stepped into the chaise; the father 
after her, saying to the child, “ If any stran¬ 
gers come, Hitty, treat them well. We can 
spare of our abundance to feed the poor. 
What is silver or gold, when w-e think of 
God’s -word ?” With these words he drove 
ofif a troubled man in spite of his religious 
trust, because he left his daughter in the 
wilderness alone. 
Little Hitty, as the daughter of a Puri¬ 
tan, was strictly brought up to obssrve the 
Lord’s day. She knew that she ought to 
return to the liouse; but Nature this once, 
at least, got the better of her training. — 
“ No harm,” thought she, “ for me to see 
the brood of chickens.” Nor did she, when 
she had given them water, go into the house 
but loitered and lingered, hearing the robin 
sing, and following with her eye the bobo- 
lincoln as he flitted from, shrub to shrub.— 
She passed almost an hour out of the house, 
because she did not -want to be alone, and 
she did not feel alone when she was out 
among the birds, and was getting hei-e and 
there a wild flower. But at last she went 
in, took her Bible, and seated herself at the 
window, sometimes reading and sometimes 
looking out. 
As she was seated there, she saw three 
men coming toward the house, and she 
was right glad to see them, for she felt 
lonely, and there was a dreary, long day 
before her. 
“Father,” thought she, “meant some¬ 
thing when he told me to be kind to stran¬ 
gers ; I suppose he e.\'pected them. I won¬ 
der what keeps them all from meeting. — 
Never mind; they shall see that I can do 
soiflething for them, if I am little Hitty.” 
So, putting down the Bible, she ran to meet 
them, happy, and confiding, and even glad 
they had come; and without waiting for 
them to speak, she called to them to come 
in with her, and said, “ I am all alone; if 
mother was here she would do more for 
you, but I will do all I can;” and all this 
with a frank, loving heart, glad to do good 
to others, and glad to please her father, 
whose last words were, to spare of their 
abundance to the weary traveler. 
Smith and his two companions entered. 
Now it was neither breakfast time nor din¬ 
ner time, but half-way between both; yet 
little Hitty’s head was full of the direction 
—“spare of our abundance,” and almost 
before they were in the house, she asked if 
she could get them something to eat.— 
Smith replied, “Yes, I will thank you my 
child, for we are all hungry.” This was in¬ 
deed a civil speech for the thief, vrlio, half 
starved, had been lurking in the Avoods to 
watch his chances to steal “the silver tan¬ 
kard” as soon as the “ men folks” had gone 
to meeting, “ Shall I give you cold victu¬ 
als, or -will you wait till I can cook some 
meat?” asked Hitty. “We can’t -n^ait,” 
was the repl}^ “give us what you have 
ready as soon as you can.” “ I am glad 
you don’t want me to cook for you; but I 
could if you did, although father would ra¬ 
ther not have much cooking on Sundays.” 
Then away she tripped about making her 
preparations for their repast. Smith him¬ 
self helped her out with the table. She 
spread upon it a clean white cloth and 
placed upon it the silver tankard full of the 
“old orchard,” -with a large quantity of 
wheaten bread and a dish of cold meat.— 
I don’t know why the silver spoons were 
put on; perhaps little Hitty thoua-ht they 
made the’ table look prettier. After all 
was done, she turned to Smith and with a 
courtesy told him that dinner was ready. 
The child had been so busy in arranging 
her table, and so thoughtful of her house¬ 
wifery, that she took little or no notice of 
the appearance of her guests. She did the 
work as cheerily and freely, and was as un¬ 
embarrassed as if she had been surrounded 
by her father and mother and brothers.— 
One of the thieves sat doggedly with his 
hands on his knees and his face _ down al¬ 
most to his hands, looking at the same time 
on the floor. Another, a younger and bet¬ 
ter looking man, stood confused and irreso¬ 
lute, as if he had not been w-ell broken to 
his trade, and often would go to the win¬ 
dow and look out, keeping his back on the 
child. Smith, on the other hand, looked 
unconcerned, as if he had quite foi'gotten 
his purpose. He never took his attention 
off the child, following her with his eye as 
she bustled about in arranging the dinner 
table; there was even a half smile on his 
countenance. They all moved to the table 
—Smith’s chair at the head, one of his 
companions on each 'side, the child at the 
foot, standing there to help her guests and 
to be ready to go for' farther supplies as 
there was need. 
The men ate as hungry men, almost in 
silence, drinking occasionally from the silver 
tankard. When they had done. Smith 
started suddenly, and said — “ Come let’s 
go.” “ What ?” exclaimed the old robber, 
“ go with empty hands, when this silver is 
here ?” He seized the tankard. “ Put that 
down!” shouted Smith; “I’ll shoot the 
man who takes a single thing from this 
house 1” Poor Hitty, at once awakened to 
a sense of the character of her guests, with 
terror in her face, and yet with a child-like 
frankness, she ran to Smith, took hold of 
his hand, and looked into his face, as if she 
felt sure that he would take care of hei\ 
The old thief looking to his young com¬ 
panion, and finding that he was ready to 
give up the job, and seeing that Smith Avas 
resolute, put down the tankard, groAvling 
like a^og Avhich has a bone taken from him 
— “ Fool! catch me in your company again,” 
and Avith such expressions, left the house, 
folloAved by the other. Smith put his liand 
on the head of the child, and said, “Don’t 
be afraid—stay quiet in the house—nobody 
shall hurt you.” Thus ended the visit of 
the thieves; thus God preserved the prop¬ 
erty of those who had put their trust in 
him. What a story had the child to tell 
when the family came home I Hoav liearty 
was the thanksgiving that went up tl^at 
evening from the family altar. 
A year or tAvo after this, Tom Smith Avas 
arrested for the commission of some crime, 
was tried and condemned to be executed, 
Daniel Gordon heard of this, and that he 
was confined in jail in the seaport town to 
wait for the dreadful day when lie Avas to 
be hung up as a dog between heaven and 
earth. Gordon coidd not keep away from 
him; he felt drawn to the protector of his 
daughter, and Avent down to see- him.— 
When he entered the dungeon Smith was 
seated, his fiice Avas pale, his hair tangled 
and matted together—for Avhat should he 
care for his looks ? There was no expression 
in his countenance, except that of irritation 
from being intruded upon, Avhen he wanted 
to hear nothing or see nothing more of hi.s 
brother man! He did not rise, nor even 
look up, nor return the salutation of Gor¬ 
don, Avho continued to stand before him.— 
At last, as if Avearied beyond endurance, he 
asked, “ What do you Awant of me ? Can’t 
you let me alone even here ?” 
“ I am come,” said Gordon, “ to see you, 
because my daughter told me all you did 
for her, Avhich you—” 
As if touched to the heart. Smith’s whole 
appearance changed, an e.vpression of deep 
feeling came over his features, he was alto¬ 
gether another man. The sullen indiffer¬ 
ence passed away in an instant. “ Are you 
the father of that little girl ? Oh what a 
dear child she is! Is she well and happy ? 
Hoav I love to think of her I That’s one 
plea^fent thing I have to think of. For 
once I Avas treated like other men. Could 
I kiss her once, I think I should feel hap¬ 
pier.” In this hurried manner he poured 
out an intensity of feeling little supposed to 
lie in the bosom of a condemned felon. 
Gordon remained Avith Smith, Avhispering 
of peace beyond the grave for the penitent, 
soothing, in some degree, his passage thro’ 
the dark valley, and did not return to his 
family until Christian love could do no 
more for an erring brother, on Avhom scarce¬ 
ly before had the eye of love rested. 
What a croAvd of thoughts do these in¬ 
cidents cause to rush upon the mind!— 
Hoav sure is the overcoming of evil Avith 
good. Hoav truly did Jesus Christ knoAV 
Avhat Avas in the heart of man. Hoav true 
to the best feelings of human nature are 
even the outcasts of society. Hoav much of 
our virtue do we owe to our position among 
men. The reader w'ill not, however, need 
our help to make the right use of the guar¬ 
ding of the “ Silver Tankard” by the kind¬ 
ness and innocence of a child. 
Language —a conduit for distributing 
the stream of Knowledge as it floAvs from 
the reservoir of Mind. 
There are some people who do not ap¬ 
pear to know hoAv to think well of any hu¬ 
man being. 
lumotouH nnii Imiwtng. 'fnnWys Cnniu. 
THE MAYOR EXCEPTED. 
A TRAVELER liaA'ing made an excellent 
supper, at an Inn in North Wales, observed 
that nobody could have made a better. 
“ Stop, stop,” said the landlord, “ you 
are in Wales, sir, and must not make per¬ 
sonal comparisons Avithout adding “ the 
Mayor excepted.” 
“No,” rejoined the other, “I’ll except 
neither mayor nor aldermen.” 
“ Then let me tell you, that you’ll be fined 
five shillings.” 
“ Fined or confined. I’ll except neither.” 
The next morning the guest Avas sum¬ 
moned before the Mayor, for this act of pet¬ 
ty treason, when the traveler, turning round 
in open court, thus addressed the landlord: 
“ I have traveled through England, Scot¬ 
land and Ireland, and except the identical 
animal that chews the thistle, I have never 
met Avith so egregious an ass as your land¬ 
lord;” and then, Avith an air of profound 
reverence to the bench, he added: 
“ The Mayor excepted.” 
Them’s ’um.—“I say, captain,” said a 
little, keen-eyed man, as he landed from the 
steamer Potomac at Natchez, “ I say, cap¬ 
tain, these ’ere arn’t all. I have left some¬ 
thin’ on board, that’s a fact.” “ Them’s all 
the plunder you brought on board, any- 
hoAAL” “Well, see noAv, I grant it’s 0. K. 
according to list— four boxes, three chests, 
tAvo band-boxes, a portmanty, tAVO hams, 
one part cut, three ropes of inyans, and a 
tea-kettle; but you sec, captain, I’m duber- 
some—I ’feel there’s somethin’ short.— 
Though I’a'C counted ’um over nine times, 
and never took my eyes off ’um while on 
board, there’s somethin’ not right, some¬ 
how.” “ Well, stranger, time’s up—them’s 
all I knoAvs on; so just fotch your wife and 
five children out of the cabin, cos I’m off.” 
“ Them’s ’um ; darn it, them’s ’um ! I 
knoAv’d I had forgot somethin’.” 
A Dialogue. —“ Well, my son, can you 
giA’e me some supper ?” 
. “I reckon not. We haint no meat, nor 
Ave haint no bread, nor Ave haint no taters.” 
“Well you can give me abed, can’t 
j. - 
“ I reckon not ; for avc haint no- feathers, 
nor we haint no straw, nor we haint no 
floor to our house.” 
“ Well, you can give my horse something 
to eat?” 
“ I reckon not ; for Ave haint no hay, nor 
we haint no corn, nor Ave haint no oats 
neither.” ‘ 
“ In the name of human nature, hoAV do 
you a!] do here ?” 
“ Oh very Avell, I thank you. ZTow are 
all your folks to hump’’ 
A Shower of Compliments. —“ How 
fortunate I am in meeting a rain-heau in 
this storm,” said a young lady who was 
caught in a shoAver the other day to her 
“ lean of promise” who happened along 
Avith an umbrella. 
“And I,” said he gallantly, “am as 
much rejoiced as the poor Laplander Avhen 
he has caught a rain-dear.” 
These are the beau ideal of Avet weather 
compliments. . 
A Wish as is a Wish.— A love-lorn 
SAvain broke a wish bone with his “ heart’s 
queen,” somewhere up in NeAV Hampshire. 
“NeoAv what d’youwish, Sally?” demand¬ 
ed Jonathan, with a tender grin of expect¬ 
ation. “I Avished I was handsome,” replied 
the fair damsel—“handsome as—as Queen 
Victory!” “Jerusalem! what a wish!” re¬ 
plied Jonathan—“Avhen you’re handsome 
’nuff neow ? But I’ll tell ye Avhat I wishqd, 
Sally. I wished you was locked in my arms 
and the key was lost!” 
Mrs. Partington on hearing so much 
said about dissolving the Union, asked 
Avhether they Avould dissolve it in alcohol or 
hot Avater. She was told it could only be 
dissol\''ed in blood. “ Well,” she replied, 
with that fixed spirit of resolve beaming 
from her face, “ they shall never have any 
of my blood for that purpose. I’ll spill the 
last drop first” 
Hoav is it to be Done?—A n .Irishman, 
who was very near sighted, about to fight a 
duel, insisted that he should stand six paces 
nearer to his antagonist than the other did 
to him, and that they Avere both to fire at 
the same time! This beats Sheridan.’s tell¬ 
ing a fat man Avho Avas going to fight a thin 
one that the latter’s slim figure ought to be 
chalked on the other’s portly person, and if 
the bullet hit him outside the chalk line it 
should go for nothing! 
“ Do you,” said Fanny’t other daj’’, 
“In earnest loA'e me, as j'ou .say; 
Or are these tender Avords applied 
Alike to fifty girls beside?” 
“Dear, cruel girl,” cried I, “forbear, 
For by those cherry lips I swear”— 
She stop’d me ns the oath I took. 
And said, “ You’ve sworn—now kins the book!” 
“May a man marry his Avife’s sister?” is 
a question that can only be properly ans¬ 
wered by the sister herself, Avhen the wid¬ 
ower pops the question. 
“ Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 22 letters. 
My 1, 16, 10, 6 , 10, 19, 22 is a tribe of Indians in 
Oregon. 
My 2, 10, 10, 2, 12, 16, 11 , 11 is one of the U. S. 
i'ly 3, 15,16, 21, 21 is a county in loAva. 
My 4, 16, 1 , 6 , 20, 14, 19 21 is a county in Pa. 
My 5, 16, 17, 19, 22 is a county in North Carolina.' 
My 7, 11, 10 , 6 is a river in Africa. 
My 8 , 2,10, 19, 4 is a town in Miciiigan. 
My 9, 6 , 12,19, 4,19, 2 is a river in Siberia. 
My 10, 16, 17, 13, 16, 12 is a city of the British 
Empire. 
My 18, 16, 20 , 17 is a group of Islands on the coast 
of Yucatan. 
My whole is the great conversation of the day. 
nU’ Answer in two weeks. 
RIDDLE. 
We are a couple sharp and bright. 
And yet, when far asunder, • 
We never .aided mortal wight. 
Which may excite your wonder. 
And yet w-e must divided be. 
To prove of any use; 
And then you every day may see 
The wonders we produce. 
The most uncoutliand shapeless mass 
To form full well we know; 
We ornament the sprightly lass, 
,We decorate the beau. 
Children, you must to us apply, 
For every robe you w-ear; 
' I is we the cut and shape supply. 
And make it debonair. 
That pretty trifle too we fill. 
That’s call’d a chiffonier; 
And now if you have any skill. 
Our name you may declare. 
inp Answer in two weeks. 
CHARADE. 
My first is of use Avhen excursions you make. 
My second with fondness j’ou greet. 
Though strange it may seem, while caressing my 
second. 
My whole may be under your feet. 
O’ Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS &c. IN NO. 46, 
Answer to Enigma.— United American Me¬ 
chanics. 
AnsAver to Riddle.—C hapeau. 
Answer to Poetical Enigma.—Unanswered. 
Answer to Problem.—Unanswered. 
WHAT “THEY” SAY OF THE RURAL. 
Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. —We are in the 
regular receipt of this valuable Agricultural New's- 
paper, and consider it by far the best work of the 
kind with Avhich wc have any acquaintance. The 
indefategable proprietor has taken just the right 
course to make it o.xccedingly useful, and also ren¬ 
der it very popular, as he has called to his aid in the 
Editorial Department several gentlemen of the first 
order of talent. The paper, though apparently 
dear, is nevertheless, cheaper than any other Ag¬ 
ricultural Journal published in the country._ Her¬ 
ald, Greencastle, Pa. 
Of this publication, w-hich hails from Rochester, 
N. Y., wc can only speak from a perusal of three or 
four numbers, and from the character of those who 
cater to the public taste through its columns. We 
have had a long personal acquaintance with Mr. 
Moore, its editor and proprietor, and hesitate not to 
say that he possesses the requisite talent forgetting 
up the best and decidedly the most beautiful paper in 
Western New York, if not in the whole western 
country. Ilis associate editor L. B. Langw-orthy, 
Esq., is a man of math experience and an excellent 
writer. Mr. L. Wetherell, who has charge of the 
Educational Department, has been long and favora¬ 
bly known as a successful teacher in the “ Colle¬ 
giate Institute ” of that chy-—Racine Com. Adv. 
It is filled with useful and interesting reading on 
Agriculture, Horticulture, the news of the day, 
iMiBcellany, &;c., and each number is embellished 
with engravings. The plans of the cottages al¬ 
ready published, are very fine, and cannot fail to 
make it very attractive and worthy of a large sup¬ 
port. It is of the large quarto size, convenient for 
binding, and most admirably executed.— Livingston 
Republican. 
Moore’s Rural New’-Y'orkcr is one of I/ie papers, 
and no mistake! It is of mammoth size, quarto, 
and got up a little ahead of any w-eekly in the 
country. We welcome it to our exchange list.— 
Mich. Expositor. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YOKER: 
published every THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprieter, 
Publication Office in Burns’ Block, mo. 1, 2d floor,] 
corner State and Buffalo streets. 
^ Termsj in Advance: 
Two Dollars 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 
moil will be 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. 
O’ Subscription monej’, properly enclosed, may 
be sent by mail at our risk. 
[O’Notices relative to Meetings, &c. of Agricul¬ 
tural, Horticultural, Mechanical and Educational 
Associations, published gratuitously. 
Publishing Agents, 
WHO WILL RECEIVE SOBSCRIl-TIONS, AND FURNISH COPIES 
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. TRE3IBLY, Dansville. 
[O’ Also Agent for Naples and Hornellsville. 
E. HOPKINS, Lyons, N. Y. 
STEAM PRESS OF A. STRONG & CO. 
