ISO 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
SONG FOR THE DEAD * 
BY KATE WOODLAND. 
Awake my harp, tbv saddest strain, 
And all its mournful notes prolong, 
My heart is sad, and yet I fain 
Would sing my sweetest, gentlest song. 
All lightly should the zephyrs roam, 
And silently the waters flow, 
And lovingly the sunbeams come, 
And birds should carol soft and low : 
Hush, robins, hush thy joyous lay, 
And softly fold thy shiuing wing, 
Thy song should not be glad to-day, 
Or earth be bright mth blossomiug; 
For oh 1 ’twere mockery to rejoice, 
When Death hath hung our hearts in woe, 
Hath hushed for age the kindest voice, 
And laid our best loved treasure low. 
Weep, Mother, weep; thy tears are meet 
To glitter o'er thy loved one's head, 
Oft hitherward shall stray tby feet, 
And linger round the sleeper’s bed; 
Thou hast led him all life’s paths along, 
From youth, to manhood's dawning beams, 
And thine the holy prayer and song 
That lulled him to his baby dreams. 
Mourn Brothers, for ye may for him, 
And broken words your lips may breathe, 
For oh, the brightest dower is dim 
That blossomed in your household wreath. 
And thou, the pledged and loving one 
Who weepest o'er iiis early tomb, 
Ain truly hath thy murmuring sun 
Been veiled in midnight’s darkest gloom. 
Bereaved ones, mourn; but while your eyes 
Are glittering with affection’s dew, 
Uplift them to the beaming skies, 
And lo! what radiant scenes they new. 
The loved one whom ye gave to earth 
There soars on love’s untiring wing, 
Rejoices in immortal birth, 
Amid perennial blossoming. 
Parental footsteps lead him od. 
O’er sunny fields of balm and bloom, 
A Father joys to greet his son, 
And loves the grave that brought him home. 
Mourners, forget the tomb is drear, 
Through which hath passed your love and pride, 
For shadowy as the gate is here, 
’Tis radiant on the other side. 
Carlton, N. Y., May, 1853. 
*Inseribed to the friends of Franklin Dunham, who 
died in Orangeville, April 25th, 1853, in the 26th year of his 
age. 
THE FATHER’S CHOICE. 
BY SYLVANUS COBB, JR. 
Mr. Abel Veazie was the President of a 
heavy manufacturing company, a situation 
he had. held for many years, and as his in¬ 
terest in the corporation was considerable, 
ho was quite wealthy. By nature ho was 
blufi and off-hand in his manners, and the 
peculiar duties of his office—coming in con¬ 
stant contact, as ho did, with poople of all 
classes and dispositions—had not detracted 
from his characteristic bluntness. His fam¬ 
ily consisted of some half dozen sons and one 
daughter. 
The boys had all grown to be men, and 
were engaged in lucrative business, while 
Lelia, the youngest child, just opening into 
young womanhood, was the light and joy of 
the old man’s household. 
Among Veazie’s favorite clerks, there was 
a young man named Robert Winslow, who 
had been in tho company’s office several 
years, and who, by his untiring application 
and exemplary conduct, had - * insured for 
himsolf, not only a permanent situation, 
but also the respect and confidence of his 
omployer. Young Winslow had a mother 
and sister whom he supported, and with 
whom he lived, and consequently ho was 
obliged to economize with great nicety in 
order to keep matters straight. 
The fiscal year of the company was draw¬ 
ing to a closo, and for nearly three weeks 
previous to the opening of our story, Robert 
Winslow had boon in attendance at Mr. 
Veazie’s house every week-day evening, en¬ 
gaged iu comparing various accounts, and 
properly arranging them, in view of a con- 
tomplated change in tho direction of tho 
corporation. Duplicates had been taken of 
all the principal papers, and in the revising 
of them the services of Lelia were frequent¬ 
ly callod upon, for the old man could never 
be made to understand why even an heir¬ 
ess might not make herself useful. 
Once or twice only, had Voazio actually 
called upon his child for her services, and 
on those occasions she would read off tho 
original accounts while tho young clerk re¬ 
vised duplicates. Lelia read to Robert, and 
anon, when for a time tho labor was sus¬ 
pended, she hesitated not to talk. There 
was none of that formal constraint which 
fashion imposes upon common visits, for 
their acquaintance had commenced under 
the easy non-committing auspices of busi¬ 
ness, and without a thought of aught but 
that of business, they waded through some 
pages of tho company’s journal. Then, 
when at length they conversed, they thought 
only of social politeness, and their thoughts 
and feelings flowed unrestrained. 
The third or fourth time that Robert 
came to the house, Lelia offered her servi¬ 
ces, and while her father looked, over her 
shoulder, she read from the original drafts 
the entries, and always when the young 
man would stop to make a note or marginal 
reference upon his duplicate, she would peep 
over tho top of the large journal, and watch 
his handsome features as they worked and 
varied with his laboring thoughts. 
Thus passed away throe weeks. Every 
evening Lelia was sure to come into her 
father’s study, and she was equally sure to 
stay there till Robert went away. Tho old 
man seemed in very deed to be blind to the 
fact that these meetings were beginning to 
result in something elso beside the mere 
transaction of business. 
“Well, Robert,” said Mr. Veazie, one 
evening as the office was about being closed, 
“ you can now have a short respite from tho 
confinement of the counting-room. The 
affairs of tho concern are all settled, and wo 
shall not start again under two weeks, so 
you can have that time to yourself, to enjoy 
and to improve as you see fit.” 
“ I thank you kindly, sir,” returned Rob¬ 
ert, “though I must say I would rather 
make myself busy than lay idle so long.” 
“But you haven’t had a resting spell be¬ 
fore for four years.” 
“ True, sir, but my mother and sister 
need all my time, so I can hardly afford to 
rest, even now.” 
Veazie never held long arguments, and 
from his manner on the present occasion, 
Robert knew there was nothing more to be 
told, so ho put on his hat and started home¬ 
ward. 
The next day, or the day after that, Rob¬ 
ert Winslow took a walk over the city, and 
as he was returning home towards night he 
was accosted in tho street by a gentleman 
whom he had frequently seen in the count¬ 
ing-house, transacting business with Mr. 
Veazie. 
“ Mr. Winslow, I believe,” said the gontlo- 
man. 
“ That is my name, sir.” 
“ And mine is Dunham. You may have 
seen me at your counting-houso.” 
“ Yes, sir, I remember.” 
“Mr. Veazie tells me you would probabty 
like to employ your time to some pecuniary 
advantage during the business vacation.” 
“ Indeed, I should, sir,” returned Robert, 
while a bright ray of pleasure flashed over 
his countenance. 
“ Then I offer you a rare chance. I want 
you to accompany me to Troy, thero to as¬ 
sist mo in closing up tho books of a heavy 
firm who have failed and left matters at 
rather loose ends.” 
“ And when do you want me to go ?” 
“Oh, this very night. Now in half an 
hour from this time.” 
Robert’s countonanco fell as he heard this, 
and after a few moment’s thought, he said : 
“I cannot go so soon. If you could wait 
two hours, or postpone the matter till to¬ 
morrow, I would go.” 
“ That is impossible. Mr. Winslow, for tho 
boat starts in half an hour, and the business 
admits of no postponement. Veazie tells 
me that you would bo just the man to 
straighten out these accounts, some of which 
have been hanging for years, and are now 
put into the hands of the creditors in that 
dubious shape. I will pay your expenses, 
and give you ton dollars a day if you will go 
with me.” 
“ I cannot go,” said Robert, in a some¬ 
what disappointed tone, but yet with decis¬ 
ion, “ for when I came away this morning, I 
promised my mother that I would return 
homo before dark. My sister is away, and 
as my mother is quite weak, she would suf¬ 
fer exceedingly at my absence.” 
“You will have time to drop her a lino by 
the penny-post, informing her of the cause 
of your absence,” remarked Dunham. 
“ Tho penny-postman docs not go near 
my residence after this hour,” returned 
Robert. “ No sir,” he continued in a decid¬ 
ed tone, “ I cannot go. I would not leave 
my mother to suffer in ignorance of my fate 
this whole night for an hundred times the 
amount I might earn by the labor. I thank 
you kindly for your consideration, and I 
trust you will not blame me for tho result.” 
“Of course I cannot blame you,” answered 
Dunham, “ though I am sorry you cannot 
go. I thought you would need the money.” 
“ So I do need tho money, sir,” responded 
the young man, with a slightly flushed face, 
“ but I cannot take it at tho sacrifice of 
what I consider my filial duty.” 
“ Very well—I can find some one at Troy 
who can do the work. Good evening sir.” 
Robert responded a “good evening,” and 
then wended his way homeward. The cir¬ 
cumstance caused him some uneasiness for 
a short time, but he soon forgot it, and on 
the next day, he obtained a first rate job 
through the aid of Mr. Veazie, at an insur¬ 
ance office in copying policies. 
Again Robert Winslow was at his dosk in 
Mr. Voazio’s counting house. Business had 
commenced in good earnest and there was 
a fair prospect of being a long continuance 
of it. Nearly a week had passed away, 
when one afternoon a gentleman called in 
to see Mr. Veazie, and remained in an ear¬ 
nest and close conversation with the old 
man for full five minutes, and when ho 
turned to go away, Robert thought he heard 
something like an oath drop from his lips. 
“ Presuming puppy !” muttered Mr. Voa- 
zie, as he sank into a chair near Avhore his 
young clerk was writing, and pushed back 
from his desk some dozen important papers. 
“ Why, Robert, the fellow actually had the 
presumption to ask me for the hand of my 
little Lelia; and all he’s worth in the world 
is fifteen thousand dollars. Not another 
bit of real worth does ho possess. A pret¬ 
ty match for my daughter truly. Ha, ha !” 
Robert Winslow’s hand trembled, and his 
face crimsoned, as the old man spoke, and 
ho turned away to hide the emotion he could 
not suppress. Veazie took no notice of 
Robert’s manner, but having delivered him¬ 
self of his blunt opinion, he drew back tho 
documents ho had a moment before pushed 
away from him, and began to examine their 
contents, while Robert tried to calm his 
nerves so as to be able to go on with his 
business. 
Towards nightfall Mr. Veazie put away 
his papers, which ho had been inspecting, 
and having looked them up in his private 
desk, he began to pull on his gloves. 
“Robert,” said ho, “ are your evenings en¬ 
gaged during tho present week ?” 
“ Not particularly,” returned Robert, as 
he wiped his pen and placed it behind his ear. 
“ I want my own private accounts posted 
up, and if you will do it, I will amply com¬ 
pensate you for your extra labor.” 
“ I ask no compensation, sir. If you will 
bring your books to-morrow, I will take 
them home and post thorn with pleasure.” 
“No.no—you will have to do it at my 
own house. I don’t wish to let my private 
books go out of my sight. It will take you 
hut a few evenings to do tho wholo, and 
besides you will need some assistance in de¬ 
ciphering the various accounts, for some of 
the entries I have made, and some have 
been made by Lelia.” 
“ I could wish that the labor might be 
done here, sir,” said Robert, in a hesitating, 
nervous manner, while a strange emotion 
swept over his countenance. 
“ Done here, sir ?” iterated tho old gentle¬ 
man in surprise. “ I do not understand 
you. You found no fault when you labored 
at my house before. What have you found 
now in the shape of an objection.” 
“ Do not question mo, sir, but pray grant 
mo the favor I ask. Let me do the writing 
here.” 
“ This is a strange whim, Robert. No sir, 
if you cannot do the work at my house, I 
must strain my old eyes to do it myself.” 
“ Mr. Veazie, you misunderstand me, in¬ 
deed you do,” uttered Robert, in a painful 
and sad tone. 
“ That can hardly be,” returned tho old 
gentleman, with a quiet smile, “ since I have 
no clue to any understanding at all. But 
really I should bo under obligations to you 
if you would inform me with regard to the 
cause of this curious affair.” 
For full two minutes tho young man sat 
with his eyes bent to tho floor, but at length 
he gazed up into the face of his employer, 
and getting down from his stool, he said 
while his eyes glistened with gathering 
moisture, and his lips trembled. 
“Mr. Veazie, you have been kind and 
considerate towards me and I will not now 
break the strict frankness and integrity 
which have thus far marked all my dealings 
with you. I trust you will not blame mo, 
sir, nor think mo presumptuous. I did 
work for you at your own dwelling, and you 
callod your daughter to assist me. Togeth¬ 
er Lelia and myself examined and compared 
notes and then conversed. Ere long, I be¬ 
gan to be anxious for the evening to come, 
that I might be again at her side, and when 
she came with her joyous smile, her happy 
look, and her sweet welcome, I began to 
count the flying moments as sands of gold. 
I almost prayed that my work might have 
no end, so that she might be ever my com¬ 
panion in its slow progress, and when the 
labor did draw to a close, I felt sad and 
lonely. Then was it that my heart awoke 
to a knowledge of its situation. I began to 
lovo the gentle being who had thus been my 
unsought companion—1 had loved her, and 
her image was on my heart. I cannot de¬ 
ceive myself, sir, nor will I prove unkind or 
ungenerous to you. No man can govern 
tho strong emotions of tho heart, though he 
may, if ho bo wise, guard against the cause 
of these emotions. Mr. Veazie, I dare not 
subject myself to a lcvo that must be hope¬ 
less, for poor as I am, my heart is as those 
of others. Now you know ail.” 
“ You are honest, at all events,” said the 
old gentleman, without any apparent emo¬ 
tion. 
“ So I trust I may always bo,” returned 
Robert. 
“But do you think you are very wise !” 
“ I could not help my emotions, sir.” 
“ And if they were as pleasant as you have 
described them to me, I see not why you 
should have wished such a thing as trying 
to prevent them.” 
Robert looked up into tho face of the old 
gentleman, but mado no answer. He could 
not comprehend his meaning. 
“ It is Lelia,” continued the old gentleman, 
“ who wished you to come and help her ar¬ 
range my household accounts. Would you 
refuse her as you have mo ?” 
Robert Winslow trembled from head to 
foot. He gazed into the face of his employ¬ 
er, and thought ho could detect a kind, 
meaning smile there. Ho attempted to 
speak, but his words came not forth. 
“ Como, come,” uttered Veazie, “ let us 
not boat around the bush any longer- I am 
not blind, and consequently I failed not to 
see some things that spoke louder than 
words. I took note of tho gentle love-god 
that danced in your eyes, and I read the 
language that came up from your heart, 
and stood in living characters upon your 
varying countonanco. Do you suppose I 
should have boon so utterly regardless of 
both your own and my child’s welfare, as to 
have allowed you to cherish the flowers of 
affections only that I might blight them at 
their birth ? Lelia is a faithful, a gentle, 
and loving girl, and if you love her truly, 
you may confess to her your enormous sin 
of love.” 
“Mr. Veazie,” exclaimed Robert, “ I can¬ 
not comprehend—I do not. No, no, you 
would not raise such a sweet, such a heav¬ 
enly hope in my bosom, to crush it again.” 
“ Hark ye, Robert,” said the old gentle¬ 
man, as ho took his clerk by tho hand.— 
“ Had I desired to havo my child married to 
a heartless bag of gold, I had the chance 
this afternoon. That man who came here 
to ask mo for the hand of my daughter, 
though ho has fiftoou thousand dollars worth 
of gold, is yet steeped to the very dregs in 
poverty. He has no heart! I havo watch¬ 
ed your course for the last five years with 
interest, and a week ago, when you refused 
a considerable amount of money which you 
very much needod, rather than your moth¬ 
er should suffer a single night’s uneasiness 
on your account, you proved yourself to be 
possessed of a mine of wealth which no 
legacy could have brought you; and which 
could nevor have been poured into life-cof¬ 
fers by speculation. Mr. Dunham brought 
mo your answer, and when 1 heard it, I re¬ 
solved within myself that tho son and broth¬ 
er who could Ioyg and honor his mother and 
sister, could not fail of making a most ex¬ 
cellent husband. Now go and tell all to 
Lelia, and if she- accepts your hand, you 
shall most freely have her’s in return.— 
There, don’t cry about it, you ain’t sure she 
will have you, yet.” 
Robert Winslow did offer Lelia Veazie his 
hand and heart, and she smiled a most hap¬ 
py smilo as she gavo him hers in return.— 
People wondered much at the affair, and 
many attributed it to a freak of the old man’s 
oddity. They knew not—and many could 
not have appreciated, if they had known— 
j the deepest principle of paternal care and 
kindness which governed him ; nor was Mr. 
Veazie disappointed in his calculations.— 
Tho same heart that had cherished such 
pure and holy filial love proved a sacred 
altar for tho affections of the husband, and 
Lelia never had occasion to regret—but al¬ 
ways blessed—her Father’s Choice. 
M\t an* 
ORIGINAL COMMENTATOR. 
The best specimen of original criticism 
we ever heard, was in a stage-coach ride to 
-. Three of us were talking about 
Adam and his fall. The point of discussion 
was the apparent impossibility, that a per¬ 
fect man like Adam could commit sin. 
“ But ho wasn’t perfect,” said one of the 
throe. 
“Wasn’t perfect!” wo ejaculated in amazo- 
mont. 
“ No, sir, ho wasn’t perfect,” repeated our 
commentator. 
“What do you mean ?” wo asked. 
“ Well,” answered the authority, “ ho was 
made perfect, I admit, but ho didn’t stay 
perfect.” 
“ How ?” 
“ Why, did not his Maker tako out one of 
his ribs ? If he was perfect with all his ribs, 
he was not perfect after losing one of his 
ribs, was he, say ?” 
Our say was silent. 
A Strange Adventure. —Mr. Redblos- 
som drank moi’e than his usual allowance of 
rum and sugar, one cold night last week; 
the consequence of which was ho gave his 
wife a rather confused account of his con¬ 
duct, on his return home. 
“ Mr. Smith's grocery store invited mo to 
go and drink cousin Sam—and you seo, tho 
weather was dry—and I was very sloppy— 
so I didn’t mind punching one drink—and 
’squeer how my head went into the punch, 
though ! The way home was so dizzy that 
I slipped upon a little dog—tho corner of 
the street bit me—and an old gentleman 
with cropped ears, and brass collar on his 
neck said he belonged to the dog—and I 
was—you undestaml—’ic—that is, I don’t 
know nothing more about it!” 
Very green, indeed. —Mr. Green, the re¬ 
formed gamester, has been giving a lecture 
before some members of our Legislature, in 
which he explained his tricks. Surely, this 
is teaching your grandmother. Wo venture 
to say, that two out of three politicians 
could teach Mr. Green a few tricks he nev¬ 
er dream’t of.— Lantern. 
Hopeless. —One of the prisoners convict¬ 
ed last session, while being conveyed to 
Sing Sing, declared that his brothor was an 
Alderman, and he wasn’t ashamed to own it. 
The man not ashamed to bo related to an 
Alderman is too far gone for reformation.— 
Ho should be locked up for life!— Lantern. 
One of tho best universal panaceas is a 
half eaglo. For diseases which attack the 
poor, there is nothing that can begin with 
it. Peoplo who prescribe for tho widow and 
the fatherless will please enter it in their 
note book. 
Down South, a newly appointed jailor 
once told the convicts that if they did not 
behave themselves, he would kick them out 
of the establishment! 
“Mr. Swipes, I’ve just kicked your Wil¬ 
liam out of doors.” “ Well, Mr. Swingle, 
it’s tho first bill you’ve footed this many a 
day.” 
Hoiitlj’s Corner. 
“Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 19 letters. 
My 1, 3, 11 is an article of import. 
My 2, 5, 6, 3 is beautiful. 
My 3, 11, 12, 4 is one of the points of the com¬ 
pass. 
My 6, 5, 17,13 is a small insect. 
My 7, 18, 12, 17, 8, 19 is a city in the United 
States. 
My 13, 14, 19, 16, 3 is used in-doors. 
My 12, 2, 11, 15, 16, 11, 14, 3 are a species of 
fowls. 
My 10, 14, 19, 16, 12 all birds have. 
My 9, 11, 12, 2, 14, 8, 15 many follow. 
My 19, 3, 14, 16, 13 horses often do. 
My whole is annually visited by mauy citi¬ 
zens of the United States. • r. w. p. 
jggTAnswer next week. 
ANSWER TO ENIGMA, &c., IN NO. 21. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma — General 
George Washington. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma— Major Gen¬ 
eral Nathaniel Green. 
Answer to Arithmetical Question —7 shillings 
and 6 pence. I 
Breeders of Improved Stock, and all who have 
Domestic Animals for sale, will find the Wool Grower 
and Stock Register the best medium of communication 
witli those most interested in Sheep, Cattle, Horses, Swine, 
Poultry, &c. It is published monthly—is the only Ameri¬ 
can journal devoted primarily to Wool and Stock Grow¬ 
ing, and kindred matters—and has a general and increas¬ 
ing circulation throughout the Union. On the 1st of July 
ensuing, a cover of 8 pages will he added to the work, 
when the publisher will be enabled to accommodate adver¬ 
tisers, whose favors have heretofore been declined for want 
of space. Those who wish to avail themselves of the ad¬ 
vantages of its pages are informed that the terms of adver¬ 
tising are SI per square (ten lines, or 100 words; for each 
insertion. Advertisements for the July number should be 
forwarded on or before the 15th of June. 
Address, I). D. T. MOORE, 
Rochesier, N. Y. 
PEAS! PEAS! PEAS! 
AUE most respectfully call the attention of Farmers 
Y Y and others to our extensive assortment of Field and 
Garden Peas; among the former are 
200 bushels Common Marrowfats. 
400 do. Junes. 
200 do. Golden Vine. 
200 do. Creepers. 
400 do. Common Canada. 
And among the lattei are 
25 bushels Superior Early Kents, earliest grown. 
5 do. Prince Albert. 
100 do. Early Warwick—superior. 
200 do. do. Washington. 
100 do. Marrowfats, superior article. 
50 do. Black Eye Marrowfats. 
25 do. Dwarf Blue Imperial. 
10 do. Monastery Marrow. 
25 do. Blue Marrowfats. 
Also, various other choice kinds,—all of which will he 
sold at small profits for cash, at the Genesee Seed Store 63 
& 65 Buffalo st., Rochester. 
172-tf J. RAPALJE & CO. 
Imported Morse, “Consternation,” 
W ILL stand this season at the farm of the 
subscriber, two miles west of Syracuse 
and adjoining the village of Geddes. His 
colts and fillies are already in demand for 
breeding. Several have been sold duringthe past winter, 
at handsome prices, to go out of the State. 
Terms.—$10 for the season, and $15 to insure; the mo¬ 
ney to be paid in advance in all cases. When a mare is 
insured and left at the farm of the subscriber, or regular¬ 
ly returned to the horse until the groom is satisfied she is 
in foal, a receipt will be given promising to refund the 
money if the mare was not got in foal. Pasturage fur¬ 
nished at three shillings per week. Mares to lie at therisk 
of owners in all respects. J. B. BURNETT, 
May 14. [177-tf] Syracuse, N. Y. 
NORMAN HORSE ROUXS PH : 
^ T111S Celebrated llorse, owned by Robert 
B. Howland, of Union Springs, Cayuga Co., 
N. Y., aiid bred by Edward Harris, of Mor¬ 
ristown, New Jei sey, from liis pure imported 
Norman Stock, will be kept the present season at the fol¬ 
lowing places, to wit:—On Mondays, Tuesdays and Wed¬ 
nesdays of each week, at the stable of I{ B. Robinson, in 
Farmington, Ontario county; on Thursday, at Victor vil¬ 
lage ; on Friday, at Fairport, Monroe county, and on Sat¬ 
urday, at Egypt. 
Terms:—$8,00 for the season, and $10,00 to insure.— 
Mares to be returned to the Horse once a week, or until 
the groom is satisfied they are with foal, and to tie, in all 
respects, at the risk of the owners. Pasturage furnished 
at four shillings per week. JOS. K ROBINSON. 
176w6* 
MORGAN HORSE “GEN. GIEEORJ).”~ 
THIS justly celebrated horse will be kept tho 
_ present season at Lodi Village, Seneca Co., 
New York. 
Gen. Gilford received the 1st Premium in the class of 
Morgans at Rochester, in September, 1851, and is regarded 
by experienced horsemen as the best living specimen of 
this invaluable breed ;—is a perfect model in form, a sharp 
goer, and style aud action unsurpassed. Terms of insur¬ 
ance, twenty dollars. CHARLES W. INGERsOLL. 
Lodi, April, 1853. 164vv8 
SPRING GRAIN AND SEEDS. 
W E have now on hand and i'or sale at the Genesee 
Seed Store, the following Field Grains : 
100 bushels Pure Fife Spring Wheat. 
100 
do. 
Barley, 4 or 6 round. 
25 
do. 
Do. superior new variety, 2 round. 
100 
do. 
B uckwlieat. 
100 
do. 
Racine or Cat-tail Oats. 
200 
do. 
Feapt Timothy seed. 
400 
do. 
Common do. 
25 
do. 
Large Clover. 
25 
do. 
Red Top. 
20 
do. 
Orchard Grass. 
50 
do. 
Millet. 
'2-tf. 
J. RAPALJE & CO. 
SEED POTATOES. 
W F, have on hand 200 bushels of the celebrated White 
Mercer Potatoes, at $2 per barrel, delivered at the 
Railroad or Canal, in this city. 
100 bushels Early Junes. 
50 do Mountain Junes. 
25 do Wild Mexicans. 
25 do Carters. 
50 do Irish Cups. J. RAPALJE & CO. 
172-tf. 63 & 65 Buffalo st., Rochester. 
GREAT PRIZE MEDAL. 
■ THE WORLD’S FAIR AT LON DON, awarded us 
a Mammoth Silver Medal for the Best Hats.— 
Gents wishing the Spring and Summer style, w ill 
call. We are prepared to serve you with a superior arti¬ 
cle, and of the most becoming stvie. 
CLARK & GILMAN, 23 State St., 
[169-3m.] _ Rochester N. Y. 
I TtODDER MAY I5E .SHORT!—So plant an acre 
j or so of Carrots, Ruta bagas, Beets, and Swede’s Tur¬ 
nips. Don’t get the back-ache doing it, but use tiie New 
Hand Seed Drill, got up and sold (witli the seeds for 
planting) at HALLOCK’S, 
177tf 24 Exchange st., Rochester. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: 
A WEEKLY HOME JOURNAL, 
For both Country and Town Residents. 
PUBLICATION OFFICE, 
Burns’ Block, corner State and Buffalo Sts., 
Rochester, N. Y. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE; 
Two Dollars a Year — $1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follow's:— 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 tiie same rate. Six months subscriptions in proportion¬ 
ing' 1 ’ 1 ’ 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 
each insertion,— in advance. tHh" The circulation of the 
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, aud 
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 1 the cash. 
To enable us to accommodate as many as possible, brief 
advertisements are preferred. Patent medicines, &c., will 
not be advertised in this paper on any terms. 
Egt*” 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 be in 
tho 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 tiie Wool 
and Cattle Markets, and much other useful and reliable 
information whicli can be obtained from no other source. 
The Fourth Volume commenced in July last. 
Terms;— Fifty Cents a Year; 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. 
