MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
old scythes—about the corner of his eyes, likeness by lamenting friends is considered 
that had a ceiling-ward look; a look, more- very perfect In one place I am giving 
[For the Rural New-Yorker.] 
MY CHILDHOOD’S HOME. 
over, of self-satisfaction. He was very so- away quartern loaves—in another I have 
berly dressed in black—very soberly; and taken off my own coat, and am serenely of- 
itntor. Corner. 
then his white neckerchief was white and I fering the garment to a beggar, and the third,” 
I see — I see it through the mist of years, 
With its vine-clad porch as of yore ; 
Where the woodbines creep. 
And sweet flowers sleep ; 
Oh ! home shall I see thee no more ? 
pure as snow-wreath. 
“ I recollect Good as a picture to look 
Mrs. Atkins thought she recognised in at it—I saw it with Tom and the children 
the miniature man a well-known face; one one Sunday. Then we could get a walk 
And there is the bridge — the grass-grown bridge 
O’er the rippling streamlet thrown, 
Where the tiny fish lave 
’Neath the sparkling wave, 
Of the brook that’s near my home. 
Nothing is near to disturb the repose 
That has settled on every thing there ; 
And the grass has grown tall 
As the old stone wall 
That encircled the cottage so dear. 
of those countenances that, like a royal face on a Sunday; and now it’s no walk, but for- 
•upon a shilling, is the property of every- ever stitch. La, bless me! and that’s you 
body who can possess it. She had seen a in that monument! Well, I never !”ejacu- 
piclure of The Poor Man’s Friend, and— lated Mrs. Atkins. “And now I recollect 
no, it could not be he; it was impossible— what alotof tine stuff'there’s writ aboutyou.” 
nevertheless, the face of the mannikin was “ Don’t name it, madam,” said the little 
wonderously like that flesh-and-blood good- man, hastily, “ even as I am, my cheek 
ness. tingles to think of it And when I reflect”— 
And the lijtle gentleman, though some- “ Never mind reflections,” cried the tai- 
SFBXNG, 
Died July- 29, 1843. 
On brute and monarch Death alike will call, 
Dogs have their day, and Spring hath had his fall; 
Doctors by barking. Lawyers, biting, thrive. 
Spring could do both, both could not make him live. 
From human puppies he had gifts apart. 
They, heartless souls, and he, a soulless heart; 
They, doomed to future life, meet death with fear, 
But he, more happy, sleeps forever here. 
“ Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but soarch will find it out.” 
ENIGMA, 
NICKS FROM THE KNICKERBOCKER. 
The January “ issoo” of the Knickerbock¬ 
er Magazine contains many “ anecdottles ” 
Ah ! ruin, deep ruin is reigning there, 
In the home that once echoed with glee ; 
And the merry feet 
That bounded so fleet 
Are now wandering far from me. 
what uneasily, sat among a spiig of Christ- lor’s wife, with decreasing deference towards that would delight our fun-loving readers 
mas holly that was upon the mantel-piece; her visitor, “but come to the story at once. Witness the annexed crumbs from the edi- 
sat, and with his best pains, looked secure How did you get m my thimble , , , 
They have passed away — they have passed away, 
Those loving and loved one’s of yore; 
Like sweet spring flowers, 
And childhood’s hours, 
They have gone to return no more. 
Rochester, 1851. Nonpariel. 
amid his bower of spikes. “ That was my sentence—that was my 
“ Hadn’t you better take a chair, sir, or dreadful punishment,” cried the little man. 
this stool?” said Mrs. Atkins, as she passed “ Punishment!” echoed Mrs. Atkins.- 
her apron over a three-legged piece of deal, <£ ^ eb > to be 6ure > little 
—“ you’ll be more comfortable, sir.” have cramped you territ 
“Thank you,” said the little man; his droll, I never felt you.” 
face puckered as he spoke, and shifting un- ^ ^^t you ev< 
tor’s table: 
Do you know that there are some people 
who can never say a plain thing in a plain 
“ Well, to be sure, little as you are, it must ^ They must mince and mouth, and 
have cramped you terrible. And what’s so a d°pt the “ high faluting ” style in every- 
oll, I never felt you.” thing they do or speak. Of such was the 
“ But I felt you—every stitch,” said the °^ d maid whom Ollapod encountered on a 
... . J ’ . _t'Xl_1 i. V. i. icTYU_ _ "XT 1 
I am composed of 26 letters. 
My 5, 9, 26, 13 is a metal. 
My 2, 3, 20 is a kind of meat. 
My 1, 26, 23 is a domestic animal. 
My 4, 26, 23 is a mischievous animal. 
My 13, 21 is a note in music. 
My 18, 22,1, 12 is the name of a female. 
My 28, 26, 25, 17 is a kind of food. 
My 27, 15, 3, 5 is an amphibious animal. 
My 6, 19, 9 is part of the body. 
My 25, 3, 23 is used on the floor. 
My 24, 21, 22, 7, 15 is what people live in. 
My 11, 6, 13 is a color. 
My 8, 26, 23 is worn on the head. 
My 28, 26, 17 is the juice of trees. 
My 13, 6, 6, 11 is an animal. 
My 16,14, 15, 10 is a kind of bird. 
My whole is the author's name and place of resi¬ 
dence. 
[O 3 Answer next week. 
Siye Skrtcl) (Wk. 
ENIGMA. 
THE POOR MAN'S FRIEND; 
OE, A THIMBLE-FULL OF ROMANCE. 
“Poor creatures!” cried Mrs. Atkins, “it the last da } 7 of life about the duties of thera ^phly spoken of. As a cataract, 
must be a strait lodging, goodness knows, the rich, and the rights of the poor—altho’ merely, their reputation was good. “Isnt 
I never heard of such a thing.” now and then, for the look of the thing, my lhat tb e ndge-road, where that stage is 
“Benighted, darkened being!” cried the name sparkled in a guinea subscription Tor S 01 n g- asked another passenger of the 
little man in black; “miserable, forlorn per- a Home for the Houseless, or some such same benign maiden-lady, pointing to a 
son!” he continued, as though from a plat- P ublic benevolence, I would buy —buy coach on an adjacent turnpike. “Oh, no; 
Oh, no; 
The tailor’s wife had stitched since five , orm ’ , 
in the morning. It was now noon—the day az ™ kettles . ’ 
after Christmas day, and there really was JN ever, sir, 
something for dinner. The tailor was from g rea ^ humility. 
wu . AA.^ t/UUUUUUU, ao UI1UUMJI uuill cl Ulcll- 1 -- 7 -- J - J 1 7 7 1 .1 , .! 
form; “did you never hear of Solomon’s where I might—I would buy cheap. Every on, me, no; oh, that were the ridge- 
. - J it • i i • , mini which rhov hnrt ctriy-lron unnn Ihn hill 
brazen kettles? 1 ’ shilling saved I considered as a new victory road wb ich they had stricken upon the hill, 
“ Never, sir,” said the tailor’s wife, with over th e extravagance of trade. It was not °’ er which the dnver had just riz as we 
great humility. for me to inquire about wages—it was no come past; A friend mentioned to us a 
° “ Know, then, that Solomon has at this P art of m y economy to be assured that the “ omen J a S° a similar specimen of aftecta- 
momenta thousand brazen kettles at the journeyman could get his shoulder of mut- tion and pseudo-sentiment m a medical stu- 
homp _fhp children wprp nut but it wac ivnow, men, mat fcoiomon nas at tills r u “v LV, uc 1 .MU 1 CU t uai Rii; 
r 
PH-y. confined for „„ ,, t £ potatoes!” 
-a very handsome waUtcoat of sky-blue A^d “.S uSS 
might be, with the zodiac, (the border was as ! n b^en kettles, so”—and the little man t0 ' Jci sure wehada bit of beef yes- 
so strangely beautiful)—clapt her thimble S 1 g bed heavily “ so m brass thimbles.” “T^arpd not if vnn "and suph ac vnu livpd 
on the mantel-Diece.and hurried to the cun- “ I don’t understand a word of it,” said _ ... ... , 1 i ° ^ 
tion and pseudo-sentiment in 9 , medical stu¬ 
dent, sojourning at that time in the beauti¬ 
ful “ City of EJms.” He was spending an 
I am composed of 27 letters. 
My 1, 14,16, 27,19, 12, 18 is a State. 
My 2, 17, 26, 19, 21, 4 is n territory. 
My 23, 26, 25, 23 14, 17 is often used on food. 
My 11. ", 8, 13, 26, 27 is a kind of gum. 
My 10, 20, 22 is a cape in the United States. 
My 14, 17, 12, 26 is a lake in North America, 
My 3, 5, 22, 12, 6, 20, 4 is a county in Vermont. 
My 9, 7 23, 25, 14, 11 is what we should not wish 
to do without. 
My 4, 12, 24, 19, 3, 27, 24 is a cataract in America. 
My whole is what every one should do, if they 
have not already done it. 
O’ Answer next week. 
ENIGMA. 
of culinary marvels of Mahomet’s Paradise. * n lbe <zummer time,” when one or two 
“ Well, to be sure, we had a bit of beef yes- perambulating, amatory cats, in a neighbor- 
terday, but before then—” bl g I ard ’ sa t U P an awiul catterwauling.— 
“ I cared not if you, and such as you lived ^ be student, anxious to “ improve the occa- 
to the taiiors’s wife a brighter time, and a over ana almost unconsciously- brought the * } ? economv of cost defied com- pensively, and with a manner replete with 
fuller table for the time to come. thimble to her nose. But it did not smell p e ^j on >> ^ ' benevolent meaning, remarked: “Those 
Atkins had gone to make inquiry about sulphur—the thimble was the thimble it 1 „ Mq ‘ e ghame fcr „ gaid the tai]or > s strains, which are so discordant and disa- 
a ship that was to sail for the other side of was before. ^ „ T ]ki 0 f waistcoats what do vou g reeab le to our ears, may perhaps to the 
the world; and though he had not at that “ ten y ears have 1 kved in that thim- t} ; k j , f ° h . quadrupeds themselves, be the expression 
time a single piece of Queen Victoria’s mint- bk. Ten years,” cried the Me mae-end answered 11he mLikin oftheewe. .. 
ed gold to purchase a passage for himself **»■ Atk ms stared now at her visitor, and „ for j ^ it is _oh, I know the sort be “'but 
“Starvation!” answered the mannikin, i be su eetest en^dearment! ’ 
expression 
And it may 
“ for I see, ibie as it is—oh, I kuow the sprt be bu ^ tbe y v< 7 an odd Y a 7 sbow jng 
and family, he nevertheless would learn all now took another look at the thimble; and f _l see it is one o’ the dories h ~ the quarrelsome, spitting, hissing, 
Urtv nartienlore rvf orvrl noMCmr,, tllPIl sllfi COliraO'Pmislv thriTSf. llPV t.IlImKt OIMUOgHW i SCC U IS One OI ICC glOHCS _ 1 » 1 t)» 
the particulars of cost and necessary prepa- then she courageously thrust her thimble f - ° f , , ■ f s * • • ' c . “critters!” 
Tt wnc n L, ItJl/ull fino-er into the familiar brass, and nodrl° f P nme C0S that . competition.^ A 
Come yc riddling, rhyming fellows, 
Come and hear a flimsy tale, 
Stir the lire, expand the bellows, 
Puff away and w arm the ale. 
Heat and motion both produce me. 
On the surface I am found; 
Yet so worthless all refuse me, 
And dismiss me to the ground. 
Where the brooks are swelled to rivers, 
Where the waving billows roll, 
Where the wind the topsail shivers, 
There I’m found from pole to pole. 
Yet so useless all reject me, 
Though I'm reckoned wondrous fair, 
Peace and quiet both dispel me, 
And I vanish into air. 
(nr Answer next week. 
ration. It was a whim, he knew, for all finger into the familiar brass, and nodded u . 
that; it was a whim that controlled him be- at the little man among the holly, as much SI » 
“ Not long since,” writes an old friend 
and correspondent, “ as I was returning 
from Buffalo, I was amused, while the cars 
made a momentary stop, at a demonstration 
CHARADE. 
wicu, ii was ix wunil tutu, uuuuuueu iiuii ue- liiuon M ” ^11 * _ • 1 i ' --— —- -**^* xv * 
yond his powers of self-argument, had he as to say— « Wnw nnrikhpd a-Vpd ° an( ^ corres P on( ient, as I was returning 
tried to exercise them. “Now you are well got rid of, I’ll take • afi ked Mrs. Atkms. f rom Buffalo, I was amused, while the cars 
And all alone, Mrs. Atkins spread the ta- you shan’t get in again.” 1 \ P' raade a n50mentai 7 st 0 P> at a demonstration 
ble. There was a piece of beef left, and a The little roan seemed to understand the ; T ! tlie “ ti e wliere * ore made by a crazy man, on lus way to the 
small piece of plum-pudding; and still the threat of the look, for he said, with a lan- a !? )n '"V 'i 1 f US e T n , n ' AV ’ State Lunatic Asylum, at Utica. He was 
pudding remained small, although Mrs. At- guid smile- ^ h th i r Standin S ° n the track ’ in fr0nt ° f tlie ‘ iron 
kins turned the plate that contained it round “ It’s no matter, now: my ten years are all i nS w ?° m f nt hoi ^ e ‘ You tblnk y ou are something!’ he 
and round half-a-dozen times, and took half- U P—my time’s out to day. All I have now + 1 . V. °* CSS .i' ian en sai J; looking wildly at the locomotive, and 
A weight and half a league combined, 
Will quickly bring to view. 
What’s in a windy cave confined, 
And yet a rambler too. 
inF Answer next week. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &C., IN NO 54. 
kins turned the plate that contained it round 
and round half-a-dozen times, and took half- 
a-dozen side-long looks at it, as tho’ endeav¬ 
oring to behold it in the most improved light. 
But pudding is not to be thus magnified. 
w o VUU V*C*y. -AX 1 JL J. nav J1U w xl 1 1 11 ? -O - J - -WWW-- W,- 
to do is to confess my past sins and the suf- thousa " d m< r n and women—excellent per- asuming a boxing attitude; ‘but look o’ here: 
ferings they purchased me, and then I pass soa s when alive; the very pin Rol goodness, i can whip you! I’ve flogged the fiery 
to peace. I’ve paid the penalty of my sel- Wlt 1 dellcate wblte satin feelings, as one bulls of Bashan, and broken their horns off! 
r i v 1 ■ , r , / J mav sav. ten thousand snints condemned for a — u a n _ i.- xi; _ j 
Ans. to Geographical Enigma.— Orange Co. Ag¬ 
ricultural Society. 
Ans. to Historical Enigma.— Cleopatra’s Nee¬ 
dle. 
4U UUUUUJP lb I1UU LVJ Ul LJU Ub UiairmilliU. j- »^ l v Uiy OU" X al j • *, j f. - ' -7-----—w- - • 
The table laid. Mrs. Atkins thought she febness. and my unquiet ghost will cease to “YrSn Swi” ^ 
would execute a few more stitches, filling haunt your brazen thimble.” 
up the time until Atkins and the children «A ghost!” cried Urn Atkins " Well, «I n thimbles,” repeated the miniature of J out 'of you Vyou"Yld ' cookinoatwe 
As Mrs. Atkins approached the I never thought I could be so bold to a the departed Poor Man's Friend. "And Ms”" 7 cocking stove 
iror'O sivrrurtnirtfY nor iinnroro 1 ou-ordo rrI,o.-f II..t 1 1-.>. ♦ V.^7..., —... 1 . 1 . _ to/tt rto . 
a certain time to be imprisoned in thimbles.” smoking, like a blackguard in a bar-room; 
“In thimbles.’ exclaimed the tailors wife, jest jump to me, and I'll take the conceit 
mantel-piece, extending her fingers towards ghost But then, to be sure, you’re such their prison is far worse than the brazen 
the thimble, the thimble — ol its own mo- a very little one. What was your name ?” in iJoio m o„ _m 
Ans. to Grammatical Enigma. —Gen. Worth. 
Ans. to Problem.—Fifteen apples—leaving eight 
at the first, four at the second, and two at the third 
gate—having one left. Havn’t I won the gal ? 
3. B. F. 
First Riddle unanswered. 
Ans. to second Riddle.—A Mouse in a Library. 
- . . i . , ., , y? ur name • dungeon in which Solomon shuts up his you tell, particularly, madam, why 
tion—fell over upon its side, with one d.s- “ Never mind,” said the sma1 man. «I g eni ? ; for the y, at ] east> are rot mocked with tins is very good ? It is good, whether yoh 
Unci, prolonged sound, as from a silver bell; was called The Poor Man's Friend. And open cell-with a promise of liberty never cm tell or no: “The Fro?t spirit wooed Ld 
Mrfl At rinQ’ i.himh p hxr fhp waxr Imino- rtf T nnn foil trrvn Mkc AiEmn ihni- T , A J 1 
Mrs. Atkins thimble, by the way, being of I can tell you, Mrs. Atkins, that I have paid un til the appointed time be come, to be ob- would marry a sweet Flower. He said to 
no such precious metal, but of working-day pretty sharply for the vanity and vexation taineq. Kow the victims of the thimble the Flower, ‘ Wilt thou?' and the Flower 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, AT ROCHESTER, BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, Proprietor. 
brass. Mrs. Atkins drew back her fingers of the title.” 
from the thimble as from a nettle, when the “ That is, ’ 
rm l - T . . may not budge. They have employed the 
Tnat is, I suppose, answered the spir- cheapest thimble when alive, and the cheap- 
f little woman, “vnn wasn’t Lib fi-ierwt tit ... ,1 • 1 i - r .i • ■ . 1 
wilt’-ed.” 
Publication Office in Burns’ Block, [No. 1,2<1 floor,] 
comer of State and Buffalo sts. 
thimble—self-moved-rolled off the man- ited little woman, “you wasn’t his friend at est thimble is for a time their nunishment 
tel-pieee and fell upon the hearth. And all ? Only the name like ?” I - ' • - - ? • - P umsl '™n‘ 
CONUNDRUMS. 
then, to tlie astonishment and terror of Mrs. I “Listento my story,” said the little gen- I ^eh^gbufhowXthL^TonJy™* 
AtKinf; xv no ftfrnnurp in g^tt pnnIH -nni of tlnmon ofrom oUiffi*-*™. ..x. .° . . , oJ. J 
We know not the author of the following 
excruciating puns; but as enemies to mob 
Atkins, who, strange to say could not at tleman, again shifting himself among the ‘ “That’s just about the time—not quite- f xcruciatl + n S P un / : but ^ enemies to mob 
that moment scream, though m no former holly leaves. “ I was, when alive and p om a!K j q j iave wor ] ie( j f or _» 1 iaw > we tru «b for the sake of the public 
' accident had she failed, when otherwise de- enjoying my proper stature, I was a man of « p 
tormined—then, from the thimble began to exceeding wealth. Rich indeed was I, and 
pour forth, in small, quick puffs, smoke of as everybody thought—and at last I got tured 
silvery clearness. Mrs. Atkins dropt in her myself to think so too—very good, very « j. 
chair, and sat with her eyes upon the thim- benevolent, very pious. Indeed, I had the s ] iarp 
ble, still puffing a shining vapor—puffing habit of talking so much about the duties ' v 
“ For my tailor that was,” said the man- 
;in. “ How, for the time, have you tor- 
peace, that the wretch has “left town.” It 
is difficult to conceive of a human brain 
that could perpetrate anything more villain¬ 
ous than the toUov. 'no-; 
Why was the hero of New Orleans like 
The New-Yorker contains more Agricultural, Horti¬ 
cultural, Scientific, Mechanical, Educational, Literary and 
News matter, than any other Agricultural or Family Jour¬ 
nal published in the United States. Those who wish a 
good paper, devoted to useful and instructive subjects, are 
invited to give this one a careful examination—and to bear 
in mind that tlie postage on a first class periodical is no 
more than on the smallest sheet, or most trashy reprint. 
“I—I couldn’t do it,” cried Mrs. Atkins, ,, ‘ . . ' ' , T _ . ... 
sharply '^ HY was bero °* ^ ew Orleans like 
“ You couldn’t help it—’twas your duty the P ork but ? ers ? Because he was death 
■» « . rm 1 ^ . * I nn I'/i n L'o'it n n n 'syi 
and puffing, until, in a few minutes, the of the rich to the poor that, for the life of anf i mv f a <« Thus^for pvorv CtitoL on Packing ham. 
room was filled as with a cloud, and every me, I never could find sufficient time to per- took , I felt your needle-head go clean into What kind of 
object enveloped in it, save the small brass form them. Neverthless, I could not for- wha t see med mv flesh And mv sense of sneeze? Tissue. 
thimKlo that rrliHoT-nrl UL- 0 o orm.L I. ™ .. . ... SCLmeU Hiy IltSIl. Alia my SeUSe OI . 
paper most resembles a 
thimble that glitter ed like a speck upon the bear to talk it was so pleasant, so easy too; feeling was sharpened into spiritual suffer- j Why is a carving knife like a pig’s tail ? 
hearth. In the midst of her terror, Mrs. and with no other effort, it made me a name 1 • - - - 1 - 
Atkins thought of her little bit of beef and that smelt among my particular friends like 
fragmentary pudding—but they were lost a nice ointment,” 
For fourteen hours a day have I felt Because it is flourished over a ham. 
—incessantly felt—the punctures of the tor- Why is a man pulling up his shirt-collar 
to her sight, muffled up in one white cloud 
that possessed the apartment. 
“ The more shame for you,” said Mrs. 
Atkins. “To get a good name, and live 
menting steel. Hundreds of thousands of like Haman ? Because he is after Mordecai. 
little daggers piercing me through and [more Dickey.] 
through, and with every stitch a jerk that 
After some minutes, the cloud cleared upon it and do nothing for it; why it’s seemed to snatch at every nerve.” 
r Oi 7 G mrhr vnl hnrr f lm in _1 1_ . _ J 
away, slowly rolling itself up in the chim- worse than coining—yes, passing bad money 
ney, and Mrs. Atkins’ brass thimble lay, is nothing to it” 
like any other two-penny implement, upon “Very true, Mrs. Atkins,” answered the 
the hearth. The same well-worn thimble unruffled mannikin. “ Very true. 
— the same familiar commonplace that for 
many aday had armed herserapstress finger. 
“Mercy on us!” cried the tailors wife. 
“Ay, mercy on us,” said the little man. “But 
we ask mercy in vain, who have had no mercy 
on others. Live and let starve was my in- 
Why is the author of the pleasures of the 
Imagination like the colic ? Because he’s 
Ache-inside. 
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there s a deal of brassy character passed lor ner creed; it’s a wicked religion, Mrs. At 
A Comparison.— A friend of ours, while 
telling of his travels, spoke of a farmer who 
had lost a favorite cow, which had been 
4 1 * , 1 T, "j --' --- 7 -- iVDH E* HUOIHO Wf Tj lUOll XJtlU. UUUU 
“ How do vnn do Mr- A tl-inB 9 » B-rid o ° S ° U11( ? "? ht enou g h kins, and carries its after-punishment. And brought up by hand with the utmost atten- 
voice Cm Ve m-intol rik, M p0n f, ■ ? * T ’ V T • ’ de P end u l ,on the y who ' withont care for After narraUng the virtues of the de- 
Ira!.- 7“i , , Mrs Atkins, when the angels come to ring the comforts, the necessities of the workers, parted cow, he would up his eulogv by 
Mrs. Atkms lumped round with the short- it It won’t do. ma’am.” l ._a _i. i- ’ F . U Y 
Mrs. Atkins jumped round with the short- it. It won’t do, ma’am.’ 
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published gratuitously. 
est of jumps, 
tleman- 
She looked and saw a £> - en- 
will have only the cheapest work, big as saying—“ She was as handsome as a school 
I 
“I should say noV ? replied the tailor’s their names may sound, and large as their marm.” 
ifp with wnman u riPPiGinn • .i ^ 1 i 
Well, he was the strangest of gentlemen, 
wife, with womanly decision. 
“ And so I found. It is now, madam, ten 
presence in the world may be, their souls 
dwell in a thimble.” 
A man in Michigan, not long since, com- 
ii •.i,*-' . 7 7 uvrcii in a uuuiuiv. -n. mao m iuilib'' ewi, nut juiij 7 oiiiuu, uuin- 
an le s magebt position. But years ago since I died. If you doubt me, And here the little man vanished, and mitted suicide by drowning. As the body 
WP Wll I t.o i I nvnr\r ti Hip wn InouT ohnuf tnl-A _ 4. _ rm_ _ _ ’ . _ J _ o ... J 
*11 , II A ,*.,1 1 , . , . , J 7 nuic tile iitbiC Iiicili vaui&ueu, auu nnttcu ouiuiuu uy uiu vyijiijl;. uiu uuuy 
if e e ^ c ' now a bout him. take your way to the cemetery. There, the Dutch clock struck 12 j and Atkins with a could not be found the coroner held an in- 
. a f U1 .? + y ai ors measure, the gen- madam, you will see my monument. There brightened face, with a child in either hand, quest on his hat and jacket found on the 
man s s <. ure mig aye eenn out six is no mistaking it—’tis such a handsome and two following, came home to dinner.— bank of the lake. Verdict, “found empty.’’ 
f gentleman with a very clean thing, with work enough in it to have kept Now whet her Mrs. Atkins did, or did not, - 
«nd lofty look, his ban an iron grey, with the sculptor and his family for a twelve- tell to her husband her interview with the Young ladies are like arrows—they are 
a lew wisdom scratches made with an iron month. I am there, madam, m alio relievo mannikin, is not here or elsewhere the ad i n a quiver when the beaus come, and 
pen the sort of pen made out of Time’s in four compartments; and in all four my business of Red Riding Hood. can’t go off without them. 
jy* This number of the Rural New-Yorker will be ( 
sent to many farmers and others who are not subscribers, c 
in tlie belief that its objects and character will meet their < 
approval. We respectfully ask all who thus receive the pa- S 
per, to lend their kind offices toward giving it a general in- ) 
Reduction in their respective localities. We print several ) 
thousand extra copies, and can therefore supply the first ) 
number to all who desire to commence with the year and ) 
volume. ( 
We can recommend nothing better, in ita way, 
to farmers; or to farmers’ good wives; or to all 
young ladies who ever expect to become good wives; 
or to any and all, of whatever sex or age, engaged 
in rural, economical, and industrial pursuits, than 
the Rural New-Yorker, published at Rochester. N. Y., 
at $2 a year. — Mich. Christian Herald. 
