MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
> 92 
GOOD NIGHT AND PLEASANT DREAMS. 
BY ANSON G. CHESTER. 
When on its couch of rosy clouds 
The burning sun has sunk to rest, 
And, tired with song, the woodland bird 
Is rocking in its leafy nest,— 
When evening lays its misty palm 
On dewy flowers and silver streams, 
How sweet to hear, from lips we love, 
“ Good night, good night and pleasant dreams.” 
O, bitter is the pilgrim’s fate 
Who wanders from his peaceful cot, 
No tender wish and gentle word 
Rebuke the sadness of his lot: 
No wish ! no word 1 the blesed wind, 
The prayerful leaves, the hallowed beams— 
God’s chosen voices—breathe for him, 
“ Good night, good night and pleasant dreams.” 
[Morning Express. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
“I SHALL BE A FARMER’S WIFE.” 
BY CHARLIE CHESTNUT. 
“ O you eaves-dropper!” 
“ Beg your pardon, Mary, but I am not 
guilty of that” 
“Now toll mo, Warron, haven't you been 
hearing what wo girls have been talking 
about ?” 
“ Yes, I heard something, but let me pre¬ 
mise that I was not eaves-droppjng—but as 
I stepped on the piazza here, unconcious 
that I was in the vicinity of such a party, I 
stopped to examine this beautiful plant, and 
heard some one say, she never should marry 
a farmer—and another, ‘I shall bo a far¬ 
mer’s wife !’ ” 
“ Well, was that all you hoard ?” 
“That was enough to interest me, you 
know, Mary, since I am to bo a farmer, and 
of necessity will want a wife, and one of the 
right stamp, too — one not abovo tho busi¬ 
ness—but who ivere those who were decid¬ 
ing upon their future ? I am interested to 
know, and I may make you my informant, 
since you are disposed of, so much to tho 
dismay of all our hearts.” 
“ Warren !” said the maiden, blushing.— 
But let me introduce them. 
Warren A-was a young man of good 
character, education, family, &c.— a young 
farmer, and a favorite among those with 
whom he mingled — possessor of a beauti¬ 
ful farm, but without a helpmeet. Mary 
G—— was a pious, warm-hearted girl — 
one’of those who can keep a secret for each 
of her frionds, and one whoso hand had been 
sought for by many of tho young men of 
her acquaintance, but only one had obtained 
possession of her heart—of him we are not 
to speak. Warren A-and Mary G- 
had always been friends, intimate friends, 
from childhood, and had perfect confidence 
in each other. Tho gossips all said they 
wore engaged, but it provod otherwise, and 
the gossips were at fault. Mary G. was a 
girl that could be trusted, however, and 
Warren knew it. 
A company of girls aro spending the af¬ 
ternoon with Mary G. and her sister, and 
from among tho company, I wish the reader 
to make tho acquaintance of two—one, a 
blue eyed, laughing girl, called a beauty— 
admirod and flirted with by most of tho 
young beaux—open-hearted to a fault—on 
the whole, a good-hearted girl—so called at 
least, yet known to many of hor friends, as 
fickle-minded, ignorant and indolent — a 
farmer’s daughter, whose mother done the 
work, and she—did’nt. But she had a pe¬ 
culiar winning way, and many were attract¬ 
ed and thought they loved, but a careful 
study of her character soon convinced them 
she was not the woman “for their money.” 
Warren A. was one of those, and had tho’t 
of making her his wife, (if she agreed, of 
course,) but a faithful study of himself, his 
opinions and inclinations, with thoso of the 
fair, thoughtless girl, had brought him to 
the conclusion that it would not answer.— 
Mind as woll as form — worth as well as 
beauty—a true and affectionate heart, were 
necessary to constitute his “ideal of perfec¬ 
tion,” and though he once thought ho loved 
hor, yet a “vision lately floated by,” which 
had dispersed all the tendor memories of 
Ellen R-. It was she, who “would never 
marry a farmer.” 
That “vision” was the form of a beauti¬ 
ful, golden-haired girl, with eyes liquid with 
mirth, mingled with truth and affection.— 
She was beautiful, and no more beautiful 
than truthful; no coquetry— no heartless¬ 
ness, but true unaffected simplicity—not 
the simplicity of ignorance, but tho sim¬ 
plicity of honesty—always joyous, happy, 
and trying to make all happy around her. 
Such was Lois S-, she who “ would bo a 
farmer’s wife.” 
Warren had but rocently become ac¬ 
quainted with her, as her father had lately 
arrived in the vicinity with his family; but 
there appeared to be a something, (young 
men and women, guess what,) which fixed 
his attention on thoso eyes, and caused a 
throbbing in his bosom when they were 
turned upon him, and instantly withdrawn, 
with a blush on thoso fair cheeks, at the 
earnestness of his gaze. 
Reader, you have an introduction—let us 
return to Mary and Warren. 
“ Mary,” said Warren, “ let your sisters 
entertain their company, while you enter¬ 
tain yours, and walk with me. 1 have a de¬ 
sire to talk with you.” He drew Mary’s 
arm within his, as he said this, and though 
sho was about declining, said ho, “ I will 
make it all right with —; you need not fear.” 
Mary blushed again and said, “ I feel as¬ 
sured you will, Warren, but it must bo only 
a short walk, and what you have to say must 
be said briefly, as there is no excuse for mo 
to make to tho girls for absence.” 
They had left tho yard, and wore walking 
under a row of large maples. 
“Mary, you are my friend — I claim you 
as such — you always have been — yes, a 
sister to me. Now, as I have no other sis¬ 
ter, I may coufido in you as a brother. You 
are not like tho greater portion of women 
or girls, for very few can, or do, at least, 
keep a secret, but you can.” 
“ Enough, flatterer ! I will be your friend 
as I always have been, and your sister if 
you wish; but stop this useless talk— think 
what you please, but dont tell me my vir¬ 
tues—rather my faults.” 
“ Woll, Mary, tho truth is, you aro a good 
girl, and I am going to ask your opinion and 
advice. First, what is your opinion of El¬ 
lon R-?” 
“My opinion of Ellen R. ! Why you, 
who have known her from her infancy— 
who have been her school-mate for years— 
you, who have the reputation of being a 
good judge of character, asking mo my 
opinion of Ellen II.! Is her character so 
enigmatical, Warren ? You have studied it 
I am sure.” 
“Yes, Mary, I have studied it, but por- 
haps I have been prejudiced or blinded.— 
Sho is pleasant company, open-hearted, af¬ 
fectionate, and would it startle you should 
I tell you I am to bo married to hor soon ?” 
“Yow marry Ellen R. ! Why Warren ! I 
thought, but ”- 
“But what, Mary ?” 
“But I shall not tell what I thought.” 
“ Now, perhaps, you will give your opin¬ 
ion yet ?” 
“ No, indeed, I shall give no opinion if 
you are engaged.” 
“Will you, if I am not engaged ?” 
“ Yes, if you desire it.” 
“ I do, then, and am not ongaged.” 
“ Warren, I shall speak plainly—you aro 
worthy of a hotter girl than Ellen. Altho’ 
you aro not a professed Christian, you should 
seek a Christian companion — one who has 
principle, a mind, a truthful and affection¬ 
ate heart. I am not flattering you when I 
say you aro worthy of it — beside, you 
know what she said, this hour in your hear¬ 
ing—she never would marry a farmer, tho’ 
I suppose, and others with mo thought, that 
she never would have said so, had sho not 
been convinced by your actions of late, that 
if she did, it would not be you.” 
“ My actions ! Mary T 
“ Yes, Warren; you may not have ackowl- 
edged it even to yourself, but still”— 
“ Still what ?” 
“ No more of this Warren; let us return 
as you now have my opinion and advice.” 
“But I am not through ; your opinion of 
Lois S-?” 
“ Warren ! why did you ask ?—not be¬ 
cause she said she should marry a farmer, 
was it ?” 
“No, Mary, I did not think of that, but 
your opinion ?” 
“ Lois S. is a Christian— a warm-hearted, 
truthful and generous girl—the opposite of 
Ellen, in almost every respect. I should bo 
proud of you, Warren, were you to secure 
such a prize for a wife; but you aro to win 
her; believe me, sho is unconscious of your 
being attracted, though it is plain to all ob¬ 
servers. You have my best wishes; and 
now, Warren, open your heart, and— but 
here are tho girls on their way home.” 
“ 0 you truant, Mary !” exclaimed Lois 
S., as she, in company with Ellen R., met 
Mary at the gate. “Where have you been?” 
“I teased her to walk with me,” said 
Warren, as ho stopped from behind a large 
maple. 
“ 0 excuse mo, Mr. A., and Mary too ; I 
did not know you had company.” 
“ O, dear, she has been walking out with 
Warren— that's great!” said Ellen It. 
“ Call me Warren, Miss S., as that is tho 
name I am known by in this little society, 
and it is a hotter name than Mr. A.—at least 
more convenient,—is it not, Mary ?” 
“ I think so,” answered Mary. 
“I will then, if you will call me, Lois.” 
“ I’ll do it,” said Warren. “ And now 
Mary, you will excuse me, and I will, with 
their permission, accompany Ellen and Miss 
—excuse me ,—Lois homo.” 
“ Yes, sir, you may accompany me,” said 
Ellon, who had already hold of his arm. 
tie soon had the fair Lois’ arm within his 
own, and they were shortly at Ellen’s home. 
Bidding Ellen “ good evening,” they passed 
on in silence—strango, there was nothing 
they could converse about, was’nt it ? I 
have read somewhere, that “still waters run 
deepest.” At last, to break tho embarrass¬ 
ing silence, (for it must havo been embar¬ 
rassing.) Warron asked how she had enjoyed 
the afternoon visit at Mr. G.’s. 
“ O, very well indeed, though I missed 
Mary long before I came away. Sho is a 
good girl, Mr. A.—Warren, I moan.” 
“ Had I known it would have caused you 
an unonjoyed moment, I should not havo 
asked her to walk.” 
“ O, no ! I enjoyed every moment, only 
wo hunted for her. She was not to blame 
for choosing bettor company than us girls.” 
“Do you think it was better company, 
Lois ?” 
“I am no judge, but I presume she tho’t 
so, or sho would not have left us, and she is 
an acknowledged judge, you know; /judge 
from that.” 
“ Well. I think Mary is a good judge, and 
—but—” 
There was something choked Warren, 
then, or ho would have finished the sen¬ 
tence, for it was in his heart to do it; but he 
stopped suddenly, embarrassed. 
Lois noticed it, and said, “I did not know 
there were any buts to bo found in Mary 
G.’s character or actions, Warren.” 
“ Excuse me, so there is not,” said War¬ 
ren. They had reached tho yard, passed 
tho gate, and stopped at tho door—Warren 
in a roverio—pleasant of course—and Lois 
looking at him with an inquiring, ombar- 
rassed air, wondering why he was so sud¬ 
denly made silont and stupid—so perfectly 
opposite any thing she had previously seen 
in his actions—before so gay, companion¬ 
able, and unembarrassed. (Do you suppose 
sho couldn’t guess ?) 
“ Wont you walk in, Mr. A.—Warren I 
mean ?” asked Lois, as ho looked up. 
Warren made an excuse, bado her good 
evening, and departed as if in a dream. Ho 
passod mechanically along, and at last ejac¬ 
ulated, half aloud, “ So beautiful! earnest 
— and those oyos! What a sweet good 
night! She will be a farmer’s wife, and—” 
“ And you aro to blame if you don’t mako 
her yours” exclaimed a voice near. 
Warren looked up, astonished. 
“ O you eaves-dropper !” 
“No,” said Mary, laughing, “I am no 
eaves-dropper, more than yourself, but you 
should not soliloquise so loudly.” 
“ Well,” said Warren, “ I should not, but 
I am in tho midst of friends.” 
“Well, Warren, have you confessed, pro¬ 
posed, and been accepted ?— for it is my 
turn now.” 
“No, indeed, I have not, and have not 
concluded as it is best yet,” (for Warren was 
one of your cautious fellows.) 
“ O stupidity ! don’t you know that you 
lovo the best girl in-, and that she 
loves—” 
“ Who T gasped Warron. 
“ Why, you, of course.” 
“Well, I have yet to learn that” said 
Warren, appearing relioved, “ but has sho 
ever told you so ?” 
“ Told me so ! then you beliovo I cannot 
keep a secret, do you ? Do you think she 
instructed mo to tell you she loved you ?” 
“ O no, of course not,” said Warren, ab¬ 
stractedly.” 
“Warren,” said Mary, “you love that fair 
Lois S., and you may as woll acknowledge 
it to yourself, and to—” 
“Well, Mary — sister — dear,” said ho, 
grasping her hand, I I’athor think sho shall 
havo an opportunity to become a farmer s 
wife !” 
In the parish of-, near the - 
church, in tho beautiful village of M—, may 
be seen a neat little cottage, whore may be 
found the pastor of tho parish, with his be¬ 
loved wife—beloved by all who know hor— 
Mary G., sho that was. 
Across tho fields yonder, through those 
trees, and that shrubbery, you catch a 
glimpse of a beautiful modern cottage—a 
Rural homo—whore you will find Deacon 
Warron A., and — ho is a farmer, and has a 
“farmer’s wife.” 
I would be spared the rest, but I must 
finish ! 
Do you soo that wretch—a victim of the 
rum demon? — see him totter from that 
earthly hell — the dram-shop—(for there 
is one, in tho same village which contains 
tho happy pastor and his wife, Mary,)—he 
totters, and reels, and staggors towards a 
miserable, neglected, and dilapidated house; 
he enters !—thoro to meet, surroundod by 
shrinking, filthy, crying, half-starved chil¬ 
dren, tho once beautiful and thoughtless 
Ellen R.! Attracted by a gay, dashing and 
showy exeterior, sho married,—a costly and 
brilliant wedding — splendid mansion, ex¬ 
travagantly furnishod — tho novelty of a 
fashionable life — husband, clerk in an ex¬ 
tensive establishment in the city — Ellen 
thought herself happy. She had not mar¬ 
ried a farmer, but—a Gambler ! 
Reader, young man, maiden, take heed! 
anfr timer. 
GREAT REMEDY.-EXTRACT CF PEA NUTS. 
A day’ or two ago we cut a hole in the 
Carpet Bag and took out this; and persons 
who tako patont medicines will ploaso no¬ 
tice: 
Tho Great American Remedy! Hope 
for tho afflicted! Let invalids rejoice!— 
Tho greatest discovery of the ago! The 
genuine extract of Pea Nuts! Recommend¬ 
ed in all cases by members of tho faculty 
and members of tho no faculty at all.— 
Prepared by Nostrum, Gull & Co. Invent¬ 
ed by Esculpapius Quackcnboss, M. D., D. 
I)., L. L. D., an honorary membor of tho 
II. U. M. Society of B. U. G. $5 per bottlo 
—5 bottles for $25. Cures invariably tho 
following list of diseases, each in from 30 to 
45 seconds. Guittarin the head. Scoffs and 
Scolds, Brown creators, and Subjunction in 
tho last stage coaches. Slick headache and 
Sheep’s headache. Catches in the side and 
other violent cachinations. Chronic Rheu¬ 
matism and all other ’isms. Diary and the 
worst cases of (linen) collary. These and 
ten thousand other diseases yield to its hoal- 
ing propensities. A thick folio volumo of 
evidence in its favor will appear shortly.— 
Subscribers solicited. 
A Ladies’ Orthography. —The following 
“character” was suppliod to a house-maid 
in an English city by her mistress :—“ Tho 
barer, Mrs.— : —. is of great rispoktabilety 
and is amost exlant dumystick in a confi¬ 
dent kapacitv. Sho has iivod ate yedrs in 
her last plice, and has a hunimpichable car- 
reter. Sho is pirfect sober, and never drinks 
nothing but what does her good. Will be 
fund a grate aevsition to a single jintleman, 
or would shute a weddower. Tho lady who 
sho lives with givs hor this carreter, and nev¬ 
er would pearted with her, but she goes to 
osstrailye.” 
Dow to Make a Hen Lay. —Tie a stout 
string round the body, and lay the bird up¬ 
on its side on a board, and faston tho string 
underneath. You can put a pillow under 
its head if you wish. Hens secured in this 
manner will lay for any desired length of 
time. 
Curious. —Looking over other people’s 
affairs, and ovorlookmg your own. 
Dittos Canter. 
“ Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
A PUZZLE. 
2 
Cut out of a piece of leather or pasteboard, five 
pieces like No. 1, also five like No. 2. The Puz¬ 
zle is to put them together so as to form a square- 
Pompey, N. Y., Feb. 1. C. W. B. 
([^“Answer next week. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 25 letters. 
My 1, 7, 11, 22, 15 is often a great scoundrel. 
My 9, 20, 3 is the definite article. 
My 13, 11, 16 is what few wish to receive. 
My 23, 24, 25, 4 often trouble travelers. 
My 2, 3, 12, 3, 18 is the name of a lady. 
My 13, 10, 22 will trip one’s heels. 
So will my 19, 8,13. 
My 4, 5, 6 , 7, 8 , 9 cannot be seen. 
Add thereto my 4, and it can be tasted. 
My last six aptly describe my whole. 
My 1, 13, 21, 22, 15, 4 will often be heard at the 
card table. 
My 4, 16, 8 , 9,21, 14,12 is what we all should be. 
My 12, 8 ,11, 7 is not to be behind. 
My 2, 10, 18, 9, 3, 7 loves my 19, 14, 22 3. 
My 25, 10, 3, 4, 4, 8 , 18, 19 is what you are now 
doing. 
My 5, 3, 14, 13 is a delicious fruit. 
My 7, 6,18, 19 is an emblem of eternity. 
My 4, 5, 8 , 13, 3 adorns a church edifice. 
My whole has made quite a stir in the United 
States. x. y. z. 
Answer next week. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHARADE. 
My first we all would be glad to own, 
And something we never can move alone, 
My second, in England, holds my first; 
My whole is a person that often is cursed. 
Poolvilie, N. Y. 
Answer next week. 
ANSWER TO ENIGMA, &c., IN NO. 10. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma —Unde Tam's 
Cabin. 
Answer to Arithmetical Question — Two 1 cent 
pieces, one 3 cent piece, one Scent piece,and a 10 
cent piece. 
Answer to Charade — Fox-glove. 
TO AGENTS AND OTHERS. 
Encouraged by the brilliant success which has 
thus far attended the publication of Moore’s 
Rural New-Yorker, the Proprietor has resolved 
to make still greater efforts to furnish the best 
and cheapest Agricultural, Literary and Family 
Newspaper in America. And he is likewise dis¬ 
posed to remunerate, as far as possible, all Post- 
Masters and others, who may aid in augmenting 
the circulation and usefulness of the paper. For¬ 
mer ageuts and friends are aware that he was the 
first agricultural publisher who offered prizes for 
subscribers—and he now signifies [see evidence 
below] a determination to keep in advance of all 
imitators and competitors, by offering the most 
liberal and valuable Premiums. But, satisfied with 
offering greater inducements than any other pub¬ 
lisher, he dispenses with all circumlution, and 
invites your attention to the following list of 
SPLENDID PREMIUMS! 
To the person or persons -who shall send us the greatest 
number of yearly subscribers to the Rural New-Yorker 
from any one town in the Slate of New York, in ckopor- 
tion TO ITS population, (Recording to the U. S. census of 
1850,) previous to the 1st of May, 1853, forwarding pay¬ 
ment according to our terms, VVE WILL SEND THE 
NUMBER OK COPIES SO ORDERED, ANOTHER 
YEAR, FREE OF CHARGE! 
For the largest number of yearly subscribers from any 
town out of the State oj New York, on like conditions, we 
will send the paper another year, as above specified, FREE. 
GRAND PRIZES! 
1st. FIFTY DOLLARS, IN CASH, to the person who 
shall send us tho greatest number of yearly subscribers, 
(six month subscriptions to be counted proportionably,) 
according to our terms, previous to the 1st of May, 1853. 
2d. THIRTY DOLLARS, in Books or Agricultural 
Implements, to the person who shall send us the second 
greatest number, as above. 
3d. TWENTY DOLLARS, in Books or Implements, to 
tho person sending the next (third) greatest number. 
4th. FIFTEEN DOLLARS, in Books or Implements, to 
the person sending the next (fourth) greatest number. 
5th. TWELVE DOLLARS, in Books, to the person 
sending the next (fifth) greatest number. 
6 th. EIGHT DOLLARS, iu Books, to the person send¬ 
ing the next (sixth) greatest number. 
7th. FIVE DOLLARS, in Books, to tho person sending 
the next (seventh) greatest number. 
tnr Persons competing for premiums should give us 
notice to that effect iu the letter containing first remittance. 
[In order to give Subscribers, Local Agents and Post¬ 
masters, a fair and equal chance, traveling agents, post¬ 
riders and citizens of Rochester are excluded from coin- 
potion for any of the above Premiums.] 
SPECIFIC PREMIUMS! 
In order to reach and reward every one who may lend a 
portion of influence in support of the Rural New-Yorker, 
we offer to those who do not compete for either of the 
preceding prizes, the following liberal gratuities : 
1st. FIVE DOLLARS, in Cash, or a copy of Webster's 
Unabridged Dictionary, (or $6 in Ag'l. Books,) to every 
person sending payment for fifty or more yearly copies 
(six month subscriptions proportionably,Recording to our 
terms, previous to the 1st of May next. 
2d. FIVE DOLLARS, in Books, or four extra copies of 
the Rural, to every person remitting payment for forty 
or more subscribers as above. 
3d. THREE DOLLARS in Books, or a handsomely 
hound volume of the Rural for 1852, to every person re¬ 
mitting payment for thirty subscribers. 
4th. To every one remitting payment for twenty copies, 
we will give an extra copy of the Rural, and four (the 
present and three past) volumes of The Wool Grower 
and Stock Register —or, if preferred, an extra copy of 
the Rural and $1,50 in books. 
5th. To every one remitting for ten copies, an extra 
copy of tlie Rural and three volumes (past or present) of 
the Wool Grower— or, instead of vols. W. G., SI in books. 
6th. To every one remitting for six copies, an extra 
copy of the Rural and either volume of Wool Grower. 
7th. To every one remitting for three copies (S5,) 
either volume of the Wool Grower, and a bound volume 
of Gen. Farmer for 1848 or ’49. 
8 th. To every person remitting for one copy, ($2,) we 
will give a copy of either vol. Wool Grower, or the Far¬ 
mer for ’48 or '9, as preferred. 
All competitors for Premiums aro expected to adhere 
trictly to the following 
TERMS,—IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year. Three Copies, one year, for $5— 
Six Copies for $10—Ten Copies for $15—Twenty Copies 
for $25, and any additional number at the same rate. Six 
month subscriptions in proportion. Names of subscribers 
written on the pnpers if desired, however large the club. 
Club papers sent to different post offices if desired. 
Friends of the Rural and its objects 1 will you not re¬ 
spond to these offers in a spirit of liberality such as is 
therein manifested ? The premiums are certainly worth 
contending for by Subscribers, Agents, Post-Masters, and 
all others who desire to benefit themselves and community. 
O’” Specimen numbers, &c., furnished free tp all dis¬ 
posed to compete for the Premiums, or who desire to ex¬ 
tend the circulation of the New-Yorker. Subscription 
money properly enclosed, may be mailed at our risk. 
Address ’ D. D. T. MOORE, 
Rochester, N. Y. 
Moore’s Rural New-Yorker is one of the very host 
family journals with which we are acquainted. Its me¬ 
chanical execution, its illustrations, and the arrangement 
of its contents are complete. The character of its edito¬ 
rials, communications, &c., are of the highest order. It 
must obtain a wide circulation.— Louisville Journal. 
The Rural New-Yorker, we say again, is as interesting 
and useful a paper as can be found in the State or Union. 
This is no puff, hut our real sentiments, and expressed 
because justly demanded.— Sackcll's Harbor Gazette. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: 
A WEEKLY HOME JOURNAL, 
For both Country and Town Residents. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year — $1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows:— Three Copies, one year, for $5; Six 
Copies (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) for $10; 
Ten Copies (and one to Agent,) for $15; Twenty Copies 
for $25, and any additional number, directed to individuals 
at the same rate. Six months subscriptions in proportion. 
87if“ Subscription money, properly enclosed, may be 
sent by mail at the risk of the Publisher. 
Terms of Advertising: 
One Dollar per square (ten lines—100 words, or less,) for 
the first insertion, and 50 cents for each subsequent puhli- 
tion, — in advance. fjgr" The circulation of the Rural 
New-Yorker is much larger than that of any other news¬ 
paper published in the State, out of New York city Only 
a limited space, however, is devoted to advertisements, and 
hence preference is given to those most appropriate—such 
as the cards and notices of dealers in Agricultural Imple¬ 
ments and Machinery,—Horticulturists and Seedsmen,— 
Booksellers and Publishers,—Inventors, etc. All orders 
by mail should be accompanied with the cash. 
To enable us to accommodate as many as possible, brie 
advertisements are preferred. Patent medicines, &c., will 
not be advertised in this paper on any terms. 
All communications, and business letters, should 
be addressed to D. D. T. Moore, Rochester, N. Y. 
THE WOOL GROWER AND STOCK REGISTER. 
This is the only American Journal primarily devoted to 
the interest of Wool and Stock Growers, and should he in 
the hands of every owner of Domestic Animals. It is ably 
conducted, published in tho best style, and finely illustra¬ 
ted. Each number contains a careful Review of the Wool 
and Cattle Markets, and much other useful and reliable 
information which can be obtained from no other source. 
The Fourth Volume commenced in July. 
Terms:—Fifty Cents a Yf.au; Five Copies for $2; 
Eight for $3; Eleven for $4. Back volumes, bound in 
paper, at 40 cts. each,—unbound at 35 cts., or three for §1. 
Published monthly, in octavo form Specimen numbers 
sent free. Money, properly enclosed, at our risk. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
