MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
SPRING’S FIRST SMALL FLOWERS. 
BY J. H. BIXBY. 
I dearly love the first small flowers of spring. 
That deck the leafless woods, and oft are seen 
Along the snow-bank’s marge, in stormy March, 
lifting the withered leaves from their damp beds. 
And showing ’mid the wrecks of old decay. 
The beauty of their fresh-awakened life. 
It cheers my spirit like the voice of Hope 
Long silent, when she whispereth again,— 
To rove (when come those sunny smiling days 
After warm rains, to bless the early Spring,) 
Along the paths I have not trod so long, 
That lead unto the leaf-strewn forest walks 
Where bloom the early flowers; blue violets, 
With tints so like the sky, and star-like flowers j 
Flung down by angels as a sign of Spring, 
And all the varied sisterhood of blooms, 
Breathing the fragTant airs of paradise i 
And pictured with the lesson of God’s love. 
Winter has lingered sadly; rural life. 
So long without the charm of birds or flowers. 
Seems like existence on another earth 
From that which Summer decks. 
Still dark and cold, 
And barren, save the slender spires of grass. 
The swelling buds that redden on the trees. 
And the pale smiling flowers I’ve gathered here; 
It is not strange I love them with deep love. 
And twine them in my brightest garlands oft, 
Decking with them my songs. Their tinted leaves. 
Nodding upon their slender stems can wake 
Thoughts of the time long gone, and bring again 
Scenes full of pleasant sadness. 
(Knickerbocker Magazine. 
LORD BYRON. 
BY THE LATE REV. WALTER COLTON. 
He might have soared, a miracle of mind, 
Above the doubts of this dim shadowy sphere, 
And poured from thence as music on the wind. 
Those prophet tones which men had turned to hear, 
As if an angel’s voice had sung of bliss. 
In some bright world beyond toe tears of this. j 
But he betrayed his trust, and lent his gift 
Of glorious faculties, to blight and mar 
The moral universe, and sent adrift 
The anchored hopes of millions: thus the star 
Of his eventful destiny became 
A wild and wandering orb of fearful flame. 
That orb hath set; yet still its lurid light 
Flashes above the broad horizon’s verge, 
As if some comet, plunging from its height, 
Sliould pause upon the ocean’s boiling surge; 
And, in defiance of its darksome doom, 
Light for itself a fierce volcanic tomb! 
THE TWO PURSES. 
it was a cold winter night, and the wind 
whistled through the bare limbs of the trees 
that lined the wall. The ground was cov¬ 
ered with snow, upon whose surface the 
licrht of the moon fell with dazzling splendor, 
skidding the incrusted ground with bril¬ 
liant diamonds. As the old south clock 
struck nine, a young man, wrapped in his 
cloak, sought the shade of the large trees 
in the park, from whence he watched the 
coming of the numerous carriage loads of 
the gaily dressed people of both sexes who 
entered one of the princely houses on Bea¬ 
con street 
Through the richly stained glass windows, 
the gorgeous light issued in a steady flood, 
accompanied by the thrilling tones ot music, 
fro ma full band; the house, illuminated at 
every point seemed crowded with gay and 
happy spirits. 
The stranger still contemplated the scene 
—his cloak, which until now had enveloped 
the lower part of his features, had fallen, 
disclosing a face of manly beauty, a full dark 
eye, with arching brows, and short curling 
hair, as black as the raven’s plumage, set¬ 
ting off to great advantage his Grecian style 
of feature. A becoming mustache curled 
about his mouth giving a slight classic ap¬ 
pearance to his whole face. The naval but¬ 
ton on his coat denoted that he belonged to 
that branch of our national defence. 
“Shall I enter,” said he thoughtfully to 
himself, “ and feast my eyes on charms I 
never can possess ? Hard late that I should 
be bound to the iron chains of poverty— 
but I am a man, and have a soul as noble 
as the best of them. We will see”—and 
crossing over to the gay scene, he entered 
the hall. He cast off his overshoes, handed 
his hat and cloak to a servant, and unan¬ 
nounced, mingled with the beauty and fash¬ 
ion that thronged the rooms. Gradually 
he made his way among the crowd, in 
whose centre stood a bright and beautiful 
being, the queen in loveliness of that beauti¬ 
ful assembly. 
The bloods of the West End flocked 
a bout her, seeking for an approving glance 
from those dreamy blue eyes. Half ab¬ 
stracted, she answered or spoke upon the 
topics of conversation without apparent 
interest. Suddenly she started, blushed 
deeply, and dropped a half courtesy, in to¬ 
ken of recognition of some one without the 
group. Her eyes no longer lauguid, now 
sparkled with admiration, and as our naval 
friend entered the group about her she laid 
her tiny gloved hand in his, saying— 
“Welcome, Ferris, we had feared that 
your sailing orders had taken you to sea, 
this bleak weather.” 
“ We should not have lifted anchor with¬ 
out first paying tribute to our queen,” was 
the gallant reply. 
A titter ran through the cirole of exclu¬ 
sives at his appearance among them, but 
when the lady approved there was no cause 
for complaint 
The gay scenes of the evening wore on; 
several times had Ferris Howard complete¬ 
ly put at fault the shallow-brained fops 
around him, placing them in anything but 
an enviable light 
Ferris Howard was a Lieutenant in the 
Navy; and depended entirely, on his pay as 
an officer to support a widowed mother and 
young sister, to whom he was most devo¬ 
tedly attached. His father was a self-mdae 
man; had once been a successful merchant, 
who sailed and freighted some of the hea¬ 
viest tonned vessels that left the port of 
Boston—but misfortune and sickness over¬ 
took him, and he sunk into the grave, leav¬ 
ing his only son to protect his mother and 
sister from the wants and ills of life. Fer¬ 
ris had enjoyed a liberal education, and 
having entered the the Navy as Midshipman, 
was raised to a Lieutenantship, by reason 
of his acquirements and good conduct. 
His profession had led him to all parts of 
the world, and he had carefully improved 
all his advantages, though constrained by his 
limited means, to the most rigid economy. 
He had met with the only daughter of 
Harris H., one of the wealthiest merchants 
in Boston, at a fete given on board the ship 
to which he belonged, and had immediate¬ 
ly become enamored of her, but he well 
knew in his own heart that the difference 
between their fortunes formed a barrier to 
his wishes. He had been a casual visitor 
for some months previous to the commence¬ 
ment of our story, at the house of the H. 
family. 
“ I must think of her no more,” said Fer¬ 
ris to himself. “ If I am sneered at by her 
friends for offering her common civilities, 
with what contempt would her austere par¬ 
ents receive a proposition for her hand from 
one so poor and unknown.” 
Harris H. was indeed a stern old man, 
and yet he was said to be kind to the poor, 
giving freely of his bounty to all who were 
needy. Still he was a strange man. He 
seldom spoke to those around him, yet he 
evinced the warmest love for his only child, 
and Anne, too, loved her father with an ar¬ 
dent affection. His delight was to pore over 
his library, living as it were, in the fellow¬ 
ship of the old philosophers. On several 
occasions when Ferris was at his house, and 
engaged in conversation with Anne, he ob¬ 
served the eyes of the old man bent sternly 
upon him; then his heart would sink within 
him, and he would wake to a reality of his 
situation. 
Ferris was one evening in Bacon street, 
at the house of Mr. II. where in spite of the 
cold reception he received from those he 
generally met there, still he emjoyed him¬ 
self in the belief that Anne was not indif¬ 
ferent to his regard. He had been relating 
to her, at her request, his experience with 
the different national characters with whom 
he had met, speaking of their peculiarities, 
and describing the various scenes and effects 
of the different countries. Anne sat near a 
sweet geranium, whose leaves she was in¬ 
dustriously engaged in destroying. Ferris 
bent close to her ear, and said, 
“ Anne, will you pluck that rose for me, 
as a token of affection? You know how 
ardent is mine for you—or stop, dearest— 
behind it grows the codruft. You know the 
mystic language of both—will you choose 
and give me one ?” 
“ Hush—hush, Ferris,” said the blushing 
and trembling girl, plucking and handing 
him the rose. 
This passed when the attention uf the 
company present was drawn to some engag¬ 
ing object. Never before had Ferris receiv¬ 
ed any evidence of Anne’s love, save from 
her tell-tale eyes. The flower was placed 
next to his heart, and he left the apartment. 
He had proceeded but a few steps from the 
house, when he was accosted by a poor 
mendicant, clothed in rags, who was exposed 
at that late hour of the night to the inclem¬ 
ency of the season. 
“ Pray sir,” said the beggar to Ferris, 
“ can you give me a trifle ? I am nearly 
starved and chilled thro’ by the night air.” 
Ferris, after a few moments conversation 
with the beggar, for he had not the heart 
to turn away from the suffering of a fellow 
creature, handed him a purse containing five 
or six dollars, urging him to seek immediate 
shelter and food. The beggar blessed him 
and passed on. 
A few nights subsequent to this occur¬ 
rence, he was again at her father’s house. 
Mrs. H., Anne’s mother, received him as 
she did most of her visitors, with a some¬ 
what constrained and distant welcome.— 
Being a woman of no great conversational 
powers, she always retired quite early, con¬ 
ducting her intercourse with, society in the 
most formal manner. Ferris was much 
surprised that Mr. H. had taken no particu¬ 
lar notice of his intimacy at his house, for 
he seldom saw him, and when he could, the 
old man’s eye bent sternly on him in any¬ 
thing but a friendly and inviting spirit. In 
this dilemma, he was at a loss what course 
to pursue, since Anne’s acknowledgement of 
her affection for him, and now he was equal¬ 
ly distant from the goal of his happiness, 
for his better judgment told him that it 
would be presumption to ask the consent of 
her parents. On this occasion he had taken 
his leave as usual, when he was met by the 
beggar of the former night, who solicited 
alms, declaring that he could find no one 
else to assist him, and that the money be¬ 
fore bestowed upon him had been expended 
for food, and the rent of a miserable cellar 
where he had lodged. 
Again Ferris placed in his hand a purse, 
at the same time telling him that he himself 
was poor, and constrained to the practice of 
rigid economy in the support of those de¬ 
pendent on him. 
He left the beggar and passed on his way, 
happy in having contributed something to 
the alleviation of human suffering. 
Not long subsequent, Ferris called one 
evening at the house of Mr. H., and was 
fortunate enough to find Anne and her father 
alone, the former engaged upon a piece of 
embroidery of a new pattern, and the latter 
poring over a volume of ancient philosophy. 
On his entrance, the old gentleman took no 
further notice of him than a slight inclina¬ 
tion of the head, and—" Good evening sir.” 
He took a chair by Anne’s side, and told 
her of his love in low but ardent tones, beg¬ 
ging permission to speak to her father on 
the subject 
“ Oh, he will not hear a word of the mat¬ 
ter,” said the sorrowful girl. “ No longer 
ago than yesterday he spoke to me relative 
to a connection with R; but I never can 
love but one man,” said the beauty, giving 
him her hand. 
Ferris could bear this suspense no longer. 
In fact the hint relative to her alliance with 
another spurred him to action. He pro¬ 
ceeded to that part of the room where Mr. 
H. sat and after a few introductory remarks, 
he said, 
“ You have doubtless observed, sir, my 
intimacy in your family for more than a 
year past From the fact that you did not 
object to my attention to your daughter, I 
have been led to hope that it was not alto¬ 
gether against your wishes. May I ask, 
sir, with due respect, your opinion in this 
matter?” 
“ I have often seen you here,” replied Mr. 
H., “ and have no reason to object to your 
visits.” 
“ Indeed, sir, you are very kind. I have 
neither fortune nor rank to offer your daugh¬ 
ter, but, emboldened by love, I ask you for 
her hand.’’ 
The old man laid down his book, and re¬ 
moving his spectacles, asked, 
“Does the lady sanction this request?” 
“She does.” 
“And you ask—” 
“Your daughter’s hand.” 
“It is yours.” 
Feiris sprang in astonishment to his feet, 
saying, 
“I hardly know how to receive your kind¬ 
ness, my dear sir—I looked for different 
treatment” 
“Listen, young man,” said the father. 
“Do you think I should have allowed you 
to become intimate in my family with¬ 
out first knowing your character ? Do you 
think I should have given you this precious 
child (and here he placed her hand in 
Ferris’,) before I had proved you? No, 
sir; out of Anne’s many suitors from the 
wealthiest and the highest in society, I long 
since selected you as one in whom I could 
feel confidence. The world calls me a cold, 
calculating man—perhaps I am so; but I 
had a duty to perform to Him who entrust¬ 
ed me with the happiness of this blessed 
child; 1 have endeavored to perform that 
trust faithfully. I know your life and hab¬ 
its, your means and prospects—you need 
tell me nothing, With your wife receive 
an ample fortune; the dutiful son and af¬ 
fectionate brother cannot but make a good 
husband. 
“But stay, I will be with you in a mo¬ 
ment,” and he left the lovers together. 
“The story of your marriage with R—, 
was only to try your heart, then, and thick¬ 
en the plot,” said Howard to the blushing 
girl. 
At this moment the door opened, and the 
beggar whom Ferris had twice relieved, en¬ 
tered, and stepping up to Ferris, solicited 
charity. Anne recoiled at first from the 
dejected appearance and poverty stricken 
looks of the intruder, while Ferris asked in 
astonishment how he gained entrance to 
the house. In a moment the figure rose to 
a stately height, and casting off the disguise 
it had worn, discovered the person of Anne’s 
father. 
The astonishment of the lovers can hard¬ 
ly be conceived. 
“I determined,” said the father, addres¬ 
sing Ferris, “ after I had otherwise proved 
your character, to test one virtue, which, of 
all others, is the greatest—Charity. And 
had you failed in that, would also have fail¬ 
ed with me in this purpose of marriage. 
You were weighed in the balance and not 
found wanting. Here, sir, is your first 
purse—it contained six dollars when you 
gave it to the beggar in the street—it now 
contains a check for six thousand; and here 
is your second, which contained five dollars, 
and is multipled by a thousand. Nay,” 
said the old man, as Ferris was about to 
object to it, “there is no need of explanation 
it was a fair business transaction.” 
This was, of course, all mystery to Anne, 
but when explained, added to her love for 
her future husband. 
Wit (mb (junior. Jhuiljz Corner, 
LINES ON A LATE BLACKSMITH. 
With the nerves of a Sampson, the Son of the Sledge 
By the anvil his livelihood got; 
With the skill of old Vulcan could temper a* edge, 
And “ strike when his Iron was hot.” 
With the sons of St. Crispin no kindred be claimed, I 
With “ the last” he had nothing to do ; j 
He bandied no brad-awl, but yet in his time 
Had made many an excellent Shoe. , 
He blew up no coals of sedition, but stiM j 
His bellows were always in blast; ; 
And I do maintain it, deny it who will, 
He had but one Vice to the last. 
No actor was he, or concerned with the stage, 
Had no audience to shout or applaud ; 
Vet oft in his shop, like a crowd in rage. 
The voice of a hissing was heard. 
The steeling of Axes was part of his care, ■ 
Yet in thieving he never was faund; 
And although he was constantly running on bars, 
No vessel he e’er ran aground. 
j 
Now, alas and alack! what more shall I say 
Of flld Vulcan’s unfortunate son ? 
The Priest and the Sexton have borne him away, 1 
And the sound of the hammer is gone. 
___ ! 
CHEESE vs. CANNON SHOT. 
The greatest ammunition that we have 
heard of lately, was used by the celebrated 
Commodore Coe, of the Montevedian Na¬ 
vy, who, in an engagement with Admiral 
Brown, of the Buenos Ayres service, fired 
every shot from his lockers. 
“What shall we do, sir ?” asked his first 
lieutenant: “we’ve not a single shot aboard; 
round, grape, cannister, and double-headed 
are all gone.” 
“Powder gone, eh!” asked Coe. 
“No, sir, got lots of that.” 
“We had a confounded hard cheese, a 
round Dutch one, for dessert at dinner to¬ 
day—don’t you remember it?” said Coe. 
“I ought to, I broke the carving knife in 
trying to cut it, sir.” 
“Are there any more on board ?” 
“About two dozen; we took ’em from a 
droger.” 
“Will they go into the 18 pounders?” 
“By thunder, Commodore, but that’s 
the idea. I’ll try them,” cried the first luff.” 
And in a few minutes the fire of the old 
“Santa Maria,” (Coe’s ship,) which had 
ceased entirely, was re-opened, and Admi¬ 
ral Brown found more shot flying over his 
head. Directly one of them struck his 
main-mast, and as it did so, shattered and 
flew in every direction. 
“What is that which the enemy is 
fireing ?” asked Brown; but nobody could 
tell. 
Directly another one came in through a 
port and killed two men who stood near 
him; then striking the bulwarks burst into 
flinters. 
“Jove, this is too much, this is some new 
fangled Paixhan or other; I don’t like ’em 
at all!” cried Brown, and then, as four or 
five more of them came slap through his 
sails, he gave the order to fill away, and 
actually backed out of the fight, receiving a 
parting broadside of Dutch cheeses! 
An Old Joke.— The stereotype joke at 
the expense of the doctors, (says the Lynn 
News) which intimates that they “help one 
through ” the world, is familiar to every 
body. -We did not know that there was 
such high authority for the smart sayings 
which the medical fraternity encounter. In 
thes ixteenth chapter of II. Chronicles, we 
find the following statement, which is brief 
and pointed; 
“His disease was exceeding great; yet 
in his disease he sought not to the Lord, 
but to the physicians. And Asa slept 
WITH HIS FATHERS.” « 
“Said” and “Done.”— Once upon a 
time on a Sunday afternoon, a lad was so 
lazy in his motions that he did not get to 
the church door till the congregation were 
coming out, and he said to the first man he 
met— 
“ What! is it all done ?” 
“ No,” said the man, “ its all said\ but I’m 
thinking it will be a long time before its all 
done” — Lay spring. 
A Story is told of a substantial country 
gentleman with money, who for a second 
wife, took a young boarding-school miss. 
Being asked what kind of a girl his new 
wife was, he declared her learning was tre¬ 
mendous. “ She has,” said he, “larnt kemes- 
try and meterology. I used to think every 
time I drew a breath, I inspired nothin’ but 
air; but she tells me, I take down at every 
gulp, two kinds of gin, oxy-gin and hydro¬ 
gin, and I a tee-totaller, too !” 
The Olive Branch tells a story of a 
sarcastic old fellow, who, being asked one 
day by parson A., if he had any treasuae 
laid up in heaven, replied, with a doleful 
look, “ Sartin, sartin, I guess they must be 
there if anywhere—I hain’t got none laid 
up to hum, sartin !” 
1 wish you would not smoke cigars,” 
said a plump, little black-eyed girl to her 
lover. “Why not I smoke, as well as your 
chimney ?” “ Because chimneys don’t smoke 
when they are in good order.” He has 
quit smoking. 
“ Attempt die end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
ACROSTICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 24 letters. 
My 1, 11, 6, 1G, 20, 4 is a celebrated dancer. 
My 2, 13, 24, 4, 19, 17, 22 is a woman mentioned 
in the ancient Mythology. 
My 3, 14, 23, 11, 10, 18 was prince of Englaad 
My 4, 10, 13, 5, 11, 20, 14 is an Island. 
My 5, 11, 21, 18, 16, 17 was a poetess. 
My 6, 19, 7, 4, 8, 22 was an Empress. 
My 7, 21, 4, 16, 20 is a ship on which a beautiful 
poem has been written. 
My 8, 19, 14, 11, 23, 11, 9, 13, 10 is an agreeable 
beverage. 
My 9, 11, 10, 24, 7, 8 is n constellation. 
My 10, 19, 21, 14, 16 is a musical composition. 
My 11, 18, 14, 4, 8, 14, 17 was an English author. 
My 12, 11, 10, 11 is a species of palm. 
My 13, 20/ 18, 16, 10 is a place where a woman 
mentioned in Scripture lived. 
My 14, 11, 10, 18, 13, 21, 3, 6. 15, 24 is a British 
station. 
My 15, 4, 17, 14, 11 is a beautiful story. 
My 16, 23, 6 is a bird. 
My 17, 1, 23, 8 is something that all wish to hear. 
My 18, 11, 20, 14, 1,5, 4, 16, 17 is a plant. 
My 19, 12, 2, 22, 6, 15* 19 is a character in or.e of 
Shakspeare’s plays. 
My 20, 7, 21, 14, 11 is worshipped by the Hindoos. 
My 21, 7, 17 is a member of a religious order. 
My 22, 15, 4, 18, 11 is a ship mentioned in German 
verse. 
M 23, 16, 10, 14, 24, 3,19,10, 1, 2 was an English 
- poet. 
My 24, 7, 21, 14, 11 is a strait. 
My whole is a celebrated paper. Clara. 
0= Answer next week. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
HISTORICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 20 letters. 
My 4, 2, 1, 8, 11, 8, 6, was the founder of Rome. 
My 6, 15, 11, 11, 10 was an able Roman General. 
My 5, 7,10, 6, 1, 8, 6 was an eminent Dutch author. 
My 12, 13, 17, 16 was a cruel Roman Emperor. 
My 12, 19, 17, 5, 8, 6 is the name of a heathen 
deity. 
My 6, 3, 11, 16, 1, 2, 12 was the third king of Is¬ 
rael. 
My 13, 8, 11, 5, 9 was a Swiss Mathematician 
My 1, 19, 12, 5, 6 was the founder of Egypt. 
My 1, 10, 20, 15 was a queen of Scotland. 
My 14, 10, 11, 5, 6 was a country under the sway 
of Great Britain. 
My 15, 3, 9, 18 was a celebrated duke of England. 
My whole is what every one who deciphers this 
enigma will see. s. k. k. 
0= Answer next week. 
For tlie Rural New-Yorker. 
A PUZZLING PEOELEM 
A man sent his three sons to market ’vith apples, 
one with 10, another with 16, and the third with 
22, requesting them to sell them all —to sell them 
at the same rate—and to get the same sum of non 
ey for each lot, which they accomplished. At 
what rate did they sell them and what was the 
amount received by each. Lillie. 
Niagara Falls, Feb. 24,1851. 
O’ To give the puzzle solvers of the Rgjral a 
chance to try their skill we shall defer the answer 
to the above for four weeks. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
I have a weight weighing 121 lbs., but by acci- 
it is broken into five pieces. By these pieces I can 
now weigh any number of pounds from 1 to 121.— 
What is the weight of each broken piece? w. 
Benton, N. Y„ Feb. 17,1951. 
0= Answer next week." 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &C., IN NO, 01. 
Answer to Historical Enigma.—W ebster's Dic« 
tionary. 
Answer to Enigma.—“ Having light, we seek 
TO IMPART IT.” 
Answer to Puzzle.— Mum, Anna, Deed, A wan a, 
Minim, both the first and last letters of which com¬ 
prise Madam. 
Answer to Historical Enigma— Man-hat-taw. 
Answer to Riddle in No. 58.—A nail in a 
horse’s shoe. 
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