268 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“MY ANGEL WIFE.” 
BY IDA FAIRFIELD. 
She stole across my pathway, 
A vision of delight— 
A spirit, still and beautiful, 
Yet glorious and bright. 
She stood beside my hearth-stone, 
My fondly cherished dove, 
And round my heart she folded 
The pinions of her love. 
God gave her to my bosom, 
My own, my gentle bride, 
In treading life’s dim pathway, 
My counsellor and guide. 
If sorrow hovered o'er me, 
Her heart, so pure and warm. 
Was still a holy refuge, 
A shelter from the storm. 
When darkness was around me, 
Her love was still the ray, 
To light my weary footsteps] 
Along the thorny way. 
But from the distant Heavens, 
There came a voice of love— 
My angel wife was needed 
To swell the choirs above. 
Her spirit wings unfolded, 
The message to obey, 
And with one sigh at parting, 
She sped upon her way. 
Ah 1 me, the bitter anguish, 
My household bird has flown, 
And I am left in darkness, 
To struggle on alone. 
% 
But in the midnight watches, 
A form is by my side; 
And o’er my aching forehead, 
Soft fingers seem to glide. 
My glad ear drinks in music, 
The rustle of bright wings. 
And o’er my heart a rapture, 
Some blessed presence flings. 
I cannot catch the shadow, 
I cannot chain it here; 
But it brings a breath of Heaven, 
It bears away each tear. 
And I know that it will meet me, 
When this veil is rent away, 
When the spirit-bird is loosened, 
From its prison-house of clay. 
I know that it will guide me, 
Through the darkness of Death's night, 
To the presence of my Saviour, 
To His paradise of light. 
Walton, N. Y., 1853. 
Bunt! 
A LOVE EPISODE, 
WHICH IMPARTETH A GOOD MORAL. 
Albert Morris was a young Philadel¬ 
phian, of family, wealth, fine talent, consid¬ 
erable beauty, and with all these, an honest 
and feeling heart, acute sensibility, and 
pure, correct moral principles. 
It chanced that one sunny afternoon in 
October, this unexceptionable hero of ours 
was sauntering down Chestnut street, in a 
listless or rather unhappy mood, his brow 
lowering, and his eyes glancing about with 
a restless look of discontent. Now what 
possible trouble or annoyance could come 
nigh so fortunato and charming a young- 
man. 
Suddenly ho gazes an eager look forward, 
his eyes brightened, his cheek flushed, and 
his step quickened. Surely he could not 
mistake that form, that gait, that air— no, 
it was Clara Atwood. She did not see him, 
or seemed not to mark him till they were 
almost face to face. Then she smiled, 
blushed, and paused a moment, as Morris, 
lifting his hat, inquired with a joyful air, 
when she arrived in town. 
“ Only last night,” she replied, and after 
a few more words, passed on. 
Miss Atwood was an undeniable beauty, 
and a belle of much celebrity. Her taste 
in dress was exquisite, though rather on the 
magnificent order. She had many accom¬ 
plishments, a keen wit, and some genius, so 
it is little wonder that as far as she had re¬ 
vealed herself, she had been enchanting to 
the poetical and somewhat irrepressible Al¬ 
bert Morris. It was spring when they first 
met, and before they both left the city for 
the summer, dreams, wonderous pleasant, 
in which the peerless belle always appeared, 
became perilously frequent with him. 
And Miss Atwood ? Why, she smiled 
sweetly on all he said or did, and bent her¬ 
self toward him slightly—very slightly, from 
the pedestal of her pride. With a most 
comfortable faith in her own irresistibleness, 
she ever considered the heart of every man 
she met as a kind of fruit, very ripe, and very 
soft, and only waiting the least possible 
shake on her part, to fall into her hand or 
at her feet. 
But let us return to that walk of our he¬ 
ro’s down Chestnut Street. 
His heart was filled with indescribable 
emotion, he involuntarily turned his head 
to look after the fair lady. As he did so ho 
remarked that as she swept along with her 
half nonchalant, half haughty gait, the 
fringe of her rich mantle caught on the edge 
of a basket borne by a poor old woman who 
was hobbling with a crutch. Tbo basket 
was filled and piled up with large oranges, 
and as Miss Atwood gave an impatient pull 
to extricate the fringe, she half upset the 
basket—purposely it was evident—and out 
rolled a golden shower of oranges. With 
no expression of regret, but with a frown 
like midnight, and a cool “ You should keop 
out of the way,” she pushed majestically on, 
and entered Levy’s inviting doors. The old 
woman stood the image of despair; a poor, 
feeble creature, jostled by the fashionable 
throng, she could not help herself in this 
sad extremity. Surprised, indignant, and 
shocked beyond expression, Morris, with 
with one of his quick, humane impulses, 
turned hack to assist her; but he was too 
late, for a slight graceful figure sprang for¬ 
ward, and two dear little white gloved 
hands began picking up the oranges and 
replacing them in the basket of tho grateful 
old dame, and a sweet, kind voice said — 
“ O, do not thank me—it is nothing ! ” 
and then Morris caught a glimpse of a fair 
young face, not a beautiful face, hut ono 
fresh and sunny, and wearing an expression 
pure and noble, and good withal. IIo saw 
large brown eyes filled with soul, and warm, 
red lips, tremulous with feeling, and a clear, 
broad brow, stamped with intellect, over 
which waved hair of dark rich shade. All 
these he saw underneath a little cottage 
bonnet of white silk, unadorned by ribbon, 
laco or flowers ; for the young lady before 
him was that sweetest of imaginable crea¬ 
tures, a pretty Philadelphia Quakeress. 
At that moment tho soulless statue, Al¬ 
bert had half deified by his admiring hoin- 
ago, fell from its pedestal, and a fair ideal 
of womanly loveliness, sanctified by good¬ 
ness, mounted triumphantly to its place. 
Do not condemn my hero, when I say that 
he followed a respectable distance behind 
the young Quakeress, as she walked up 
Chestnut street, then turned and passed up 
Seventh street to Arch, and up Arch almost 
to Broad street. Finally, she ran lightly 
up some dazzling white marble steps, and 
entered a plain but elegant looking mansion. 
As Morris passed, ho glanced at tho door 
plato. It bore his own name; and with a 
feeling half pleasure, half pain, he recol¬ 
lected that hero resided a distant relativo 
of his father’s. There had onco been some 
difference botweon the families, and all in¬ 
tercourse had long since boen suspended — 
As might have been anticipated, Mr. Albert 
Morris suddenly became an active peace¬ 
maker. Such a cold feeling of estrange¬ 
ment between those connected by the ties of 
kindred, was unnatural, unchristian, and 
ought no long-er to exist. Thus ho argued, 
until his mother ( now a widow,) and his 
nice, obliging sisters, set forth on a visit of 
conciliation, or rather reconciliation. This 
was perfectly successful, and soon tho long- 
frozen tide of social intercourse flowed again 
sunny and swift. 
Oh, such times as the two families had to¬ 
gether ! Such morning walks and rides ; 
and then such social evening gathering for 
all sorts of innocent and sensible enjoyment. 
Indeed it was pleasanter and better, and 
more delightful, every way. than I can tell. 
I surely need not say how glad was Al¬ 
bert in his heart, when he listened daily to 
the praises of dear gifted cousin Annie, from 
his atfectionato sisters and enthusiastic 
young brothers, and even from his thought¬ 
ful, intelligent mother. All! tho heathen 
divinity's fairy hark sometimes has smooth 
sailing say what they will. 
It happened that Annie was deep in tho 
study of the German at tho time, and Al¬ 
bert presently discovered that ho x-eally 
must rub up his knowledge of that grand 
language. Aftor this what onchanting long 
mornings, what charming jaw-dislocating 
hours they spent over Goethe and Crabbo, 
and Gessner and Gleim, and Pleffel Pfizer. 
But the time came when it was away with 
these old fellows, and let the heart speak 
through lips and eyes, a pootrv more deli¬ 
cious, and eloquence more subduing. 
* * sj: ^ 4c * * 
“ My dear Albert,” said A nnie Morris, now 
two months a wife, “ what possessed thee to 
send homo that enormous orange tree ? I 
could scarcely find room for it in our con¬ 
servatory.” 
“Ah, Annie,” he replied, “I love tho 
orange; it is a sacred fruit to me.” 
“ Now, what can’st thou mean ?” said the 
little wife with some surprise. 
“ Listen to me then, my lovo,” he rojoin- 
ed. “ As by the apple, Adam lost liis para¬ 
dise, so hv the orange have I found mine.— 
What! still mystified ? Ah, bless you, and 
bless all crippled old orange women, say I” 
“ Ah, Albert! said Annie, blushing deep¬ 
ly, and smiling through her tears as she 
wound her arms around tho neck of her 
young husband; “ didst thou see that ? I 
was a little ashamed at tho time; there 
were so many looking at me—but I could 
not help it.” 
“ To ho sure you could not help it ; your 
hands go about such work on their own ac¬ 
count. Help it. indeed !” 
* * * * * * * 
On the morning after tho little street in¬ 
cident, which was the stepping stone to tho 
happy fortune of Albort Morris, Miss Clara 
Atwood was seated in her most graceful at¬ 
titude on a purple velvet sofa, in an elegant 
parlor, awaiting a call from that self-same 
gentleman. There camo a ring at the door, 
and presently a servant entered, bearing a 
basket—a pretty little French affair—filled 
with oranges, and a card, on which was 
writton, “ With tho compliments of A. M.” 
The cheeks, neck, and brow of the haughty 
beauty becamo crimson, as sho dashed the 
significant offering to tho floor. 
Last winter she was married—well, all 
the world said. Sho has a largo house in 
Walnut street, a fine country soat, a mag¬ 
nificent carriage, and her servants sport a 
dashing livery. In short, luxury and dis¬ 
play surround her. Sho is still "beautiful, 
brilliant, witty, gay, and it may be happy; 
but I do not think she ever cultivated orange 
trees in her conservatories. 
Pride.— Pride is disgusting, if it manifest 
itself in contempt of others, even of the 
lowliest. A careless, frivolous follow, may 
doal in ridiculo and contempt. Without 
respecting himself, how can he respect 
others ? But a man who is conscious of his 
own worth, has no right to undervalue his 
fellow-men.— Goethe. 
He that too much refines delicacy, will 
always endanger his quiet. 
GRANT THORBTJRN. 
Your paper of July 7 (writes a corres¬ 
pondent of tho Beloit, Wis., Journal,) con¬ 
tains a paragraph, cut from tho New York 
Tribune, noticing the marriage of Grant 
Thorburn, the “Laurie Todd” of other days. 
It has occurred to me that*you and your 
readers might like an introduction to the 
old man and his personal characteristics. 
One would think, on reading his letters, 
that ho was of the phtriarchal style, with 
erect figure, long white hair and beard, and 
slow and dignified mien. His reminiscencos 
of tho past run so far back into the early life 
of tho city and country of his adoption, that 
we unconsciously silver his fancied appear¬ 
ance with the frosted accompaniments of 
age. But who ever, from a letter, a volume, 
or a discourse, formed a correct impression 
of an author ? 
A few weeks since I happened into the 
business office of a book-publishing friend 
in New York city. He was busy in conver¬ 
sation with tho funniest little old man I ever 
looked at. His diminutive figure was hid, 
and, as it wero, extinguished under a long, 
loose, immense gray overcoat, the skirts of 
which swept his ancles. His little bullet 
head was pushed up into a broad-brimmed, 
low-crowned gray hat. His neck, which 
seemed as largo as his waist, was envoloped 
in the snowiest of cravats, and his square- 
toed shoes, with their shining buckles, were 
polished to the highest degree, and alto¬ 
gether as restless as a popple leaf. Perceiv¬ 
ing that I had come on businoss, tho old 
gentleman turned to givo mo tho opportu¬ 
nity of addressing my friend, who, in his 
turn, perceiving that I was unacquainted 
with the ancient apparition before me, in¬ 
troduced me, by saying, “ Don’t you know 
Grant Thorburn ?” 
“ No.” 
“Well, this is Laurie himself, or rather 
Laurie beside himself. If ho shows any 
aberration of mind, pray don’t notice it, for 
the old hoy is just going to marry a young 
girl.” 
“ And why shouldn’t I ?” broke in Mr. 
Thorburn : “ I am eighty-ono years old, to 
be sure, but look here”—and putting one 
hand on the counter or long table, ho sprang 
over to its other side as nimbly as a boy. 
“There ! if you can do that, you are fit to 
marry anybody. I can leap a five barred 
fence as well as ever I could; and see there 
too ”— and from under the skirts of his 
overcoat, he put out a leg, the symmetry of 
which was well shown by the closely-fitting 
tights and knee-breeches which enveloped 
it—“there’s as handsome a leg as any of 
you can brag of.” 
We assented, and I took tho opportunity 
of saying that I was extremely gratified to 
have met him, for I had heard of him, and 
boen familiar with his writings all my days. 
He graspetFmy hands, and for the first time 
looked me in the face. 
“ Sir,” said ho, “I feel complimented. I 
have written to gratify old and young, and 
I think I have been somewhat successful. 
You are young yet, and have a chance of 
doing a great deal of good, if you only try ; 
and I have this advice to give you : if you 
are a layman, don’t betray your country; 
if you are a clergyman, preach extempore 
sermons.” 
On these subjects, as on a text, the old 
man rattled on for somo minutes, giving me 
full opportunity for seeing that ho had short 
grey hair, large, bright, hazel eyes, and a 
restless, constant play of his featuros. He 
was constantly pulling off his hat and re¬ 
placing it, and making most extraordinary 
hows at his emphatic words, and catching at 
my coat button holes with one hand, and 
with the other hand, and with both hands, 
and seemingly forgetting where he was, or 
who was about him, ho flashed along in his 
discourse as if he and I were tho only per¬ 
sons in the universe, and that our lives de¬ 
pended on my conviction of the truth of his 
counsels. 
All of a sudden ho stopped, and demand¬ 
ed first my name, business, residence, and 
persuasion ; and second, which of his writ¬ 
ings I liked best. 
Easily satisfying his first question, I hesi¬ 
tated on tho second, but finally suggested 
his account of his visit to Jenny Lind. 
Tho old man fairly shook like an earth¬ 
quake with laughter. I had excited agree¬ 
able recollections, it seemed, and ho enjoyed 
the reminder. So ho laughed until ho made 
us all laugh in concert, although wo knew 
not what wo wero laughing at. I was be¬ 
ginning to feol “foolish,” when ho suddenly 
ceased roaring,and said, somi-confidentiallv, 
“ Sir, she did kiss auld Laurie Todd, right 
here!'' and he put his finger on his mouth. 
And so he went on in the same stylo 
about Jenny Lind for a moment, but un¬ 
consciously camo back to tho betrayal of tho 
country, and extempore sermons, which 
wore his hobbies for that day. 
Suddenly ho stopped, saying, “Good 
morning, gentlemen,” and dashed out, but 
instantly ro-adpeared, to give us tho benefit 
of some new idea on extemporo sermons, 
and to say that ho should write out his ideas 
on that subject, and send them to, I think, 
tho Christian Intelligencor. But having 
said that, he could not resist tho inclination 
to enlarge upon it. How like a great bob- 
o’link ho seemed, flirting about the room, 
now bowing an idea to me, now hat in hand, 
going over a dainty bit of personal recollec¬ 
tion of old times, and now with hands and 
arms in thoso great caverns of pockets, 
prophecying for the future ! 
Quaint old man ! He rode his hobby un¬ 
til he was out of breath, and then, with a 
“ God bless you, gentlemen,” tho elfish gob¬ 
lin dashed out into tho hall, and tripped in¬ 
to the street as lightly as the swallow flies, 
and as merrily as a robin sings. And that 
is all I ever saw of Grant Thornburn. 1 
l&lii mill Humor, 
“IT’S ALL RIGHT, CAPTAIN.” 
As tho fleet steamer R. was coming up 
tho Mississippi, not long since, several way 
passengers came on board at Vicksburg, 
and among others a giant looking middle 
aged Kentuckian, who very soon became 
tho subject of curiosity, wonder and gen¬ 
eral remark. Aftor traveling a short dis¬ 
tance, tho party, except “ our hero,” made 
their way to tho “ Captain’s Office ” and 
paid their faro to the place of destination. 
The next day, the clerk made bold to call 
on the delinquent passenger, who had taken 
no berth, but had passed the greater part 
of his time in his chair, and with his usual 
urbanity of manner, asked tho Kentuckian 
to give him his place of destination, as it 
would help him in making up his book, in¬ 
tending his question also as a gentle hint 
for him to pay his fare. 
The giant roso from his lethargy and re¬ 
plied, 
“ I’m going up tho river a-pioco. It’s alt 
right, Mr. Clerk.” 
The clerk not being much tho wiser from 
this answer, again politely asked— 
“ At what point do you intend to land, 
sir ?” 
“ Don’t land at no point, Mr. Clerk. It’s 
all right though.” 
Here the clerk loft our hero and wont to 
consult tho Captain, who at once lost his 
wonted good humor, as tho clerk related 
the result of his interview with the delin¬ 
quent customer. Tho Captain proceeded 
forthwith to bring tho matter to a focus, 
and accosted tho Kentuckian saying, 
“ How far are you going to hear us com¬ 
pany up tho river, Uncle ?” 
“ Oh ! I’m going a-piece with ye—but it’s 
all right, Captain !” 
“But, sir,” said tho Captain, “you have 
neither paid your fare nor given the clerk 
your place of destination, and you are old 
enough to know the custom of steamboat 
men, that when a man rofuses to pay his 
fare, or to givo a good reason for not pay¬ 
ing, wo put him ashore immediately.” 
“ W-e-I-1, Captain, ’sposo ’tis your custom, 
but it’s all right /” 
Here the Captain lost his patience and 
rosolvod to put him ashoro forthwith, and 
accordingly ordorod the pilot to land, and 
told him to mako ready to go ashoro, to 
which he very graciously replied : 
“ It’s all right, Captain.” 
The boat landed; and tho plank put out, 
the giant was told to walk, to which he 
readily assented, saying : 
“ It’s all right.” 
After getting on terra firma, tho Captain 
gave him a short blessing forgiving him the 
trouble to land and threatened him a tip 
top dressing if he ever saw him again, &c. 
To which the old man rosponed again with 
an air of triumph, pointing to a fine looking 
cottage just above him on tho bank : 
“ It’s all right, Captain ; that’s my house. 
It’s all right.” 
Spiritual Facts. —That Whiskoy is the 
key by which many gain an entrance into 
our prisons and almshouses. 
That Brandy brands tho nose of all those 
who cannot govern their appetites. 
That Wine causes many to talco a wind¬ 
ing way home. 
That Punch is the causo of many un¬ 
friendly punches. 
That Ale causes many ailings, while Beer 
brings many to the bier. 
That Champaigne is the source of many 
real pains. 
That Gin slings havo ‘ slewod’.moro than 
the slings of old. 
That tho reputation of being fond of cock¬ 
tails, is not a foather in any man’s cap. 
That tho money spont for Port suppod by 
portly gents, would support many a poor 
family. 
fjflfftjfs Cffrntr. 
“Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing's so hard, but search will And it out.” 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA 
I am composed of 14 letters. 
My 1, 9, 7 is a species of wood. 
My 2, 5, 6. 9 is the first name of a noted dan- 
seuse. 
My 3, 12, 14 is a female deer. 
My 4, 2, 14, 9, is the name of an insect. 
My 5, 9, 10, 8 is a species of grain. 
My 6, 9, 7, 14 is a small body of water. 
My 7, 9, 10, 14 is the nickname for a glrL 
My 8, 11, 1, 14 is much worn by ladies. 
My 9, 2, 14 is a favorite drink of the English. 
My 10, 14, 9 is a popular beverage. 
My 11, 9, 10 is au article worn by men. 
My 12, 11 is an interjection. 
My 13, 12, G, 14 is a small animal. 
My 14, 2, 13 is a species of wood. 
My whole is the name of a popular song. 
Geddes, N. Y., 1853. l. w. a. 
Answer next week. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
PARADOXICAL EXAMPLE. 
Three boys, A, B, and C, went to market with 
eggs. A had 50, B 30, and C. 10 eggs ; each sold 
their eggs at the same price per piece,— and each 
received.the same amount of money. At what 
price did they sell their eggs, and how many cents 
did each receive ? J. h. h. 
State Normal School, Albany, N. Y. 
jggT Answer next week. 
HALLOCK'S 
AG’L WAREHOUSE AND SEED STOHE. 
No. 24 Exchange St., Rochester, N. Y. 
T HE subscriber, late from the Establishment of Emery 
& Co., Manufacturers at Albany, where he lias been 
engaged for the past six years, has been appointed tiieir 
Sole Agent in Rochester and Western New York, for the 
sale of 
Emery's Celebrated Railroad Horse Powers and Threshing 
Machines; Circular and Cross-cut Saw Mills, Feed 
Mills, Corn-stall!, and Hay-Cullers, !\-c., 
adapted to the Power, and now oilers them at manufac¬ 
turer's prices, with the transportation added, and subject 
to the warrantee, as follows :—“ To work to the satisfac¬ 
tion of purchasers as represented in Circulars and Cata¬ 
logues, or to he returned within three months, and full 
purchase money to be refunded.” The attention of Far¬ 
mers is solicited, and a careful investigation into the con¬ 
struction of this Power, and its comparative merits, as 
well as price requested, before purchasing elsewhere. He 
is also agent for their 
Combined Reaper and Mower. 
and keeps constantly on hand, Plows, Hay Cutters, Corn 
Shelters, Seed Planters, &c., &c., comprising a complete 
and extensive stock of Agricultural and Horticultural im¬ 
plements generally, together with a full assortment of 
Field and Garden Seeds, of the best Imported aud Shaker 
growth. 
He is also agent for the sale of Seymour and Morgan's 
New York Reaper, Pierpont Seymour’s Grain Drills and 
Broad-cast Sowers, Wheel Cultivators, Gang Plows, Clover 
Hallers, Cider Mills, Clover Gatherers, Horse Rakes, 
Scythes and Snaths, Hand wakes, Grind Stones, &c. 
He will be prepared to furnish dealers with Dunn and 
Taylor’s well-known Scythes; also Manure, Straw, and 
Hay Forks, Snaths, Rifles, and other haying tools at manu¬ 
facturers’ prices, wholesale and retail. 
Particular attention is called to a New Plow, which is 
believed to be the best cast iron Plow ever offered, and 
which is warranted to do better work, with less expense 
of team, than any Plow heretofore sold iu Rochester— 
while the price is less than any other equally well finished. 
The “ uniform one-price cash system” will he adopted, 
with prices as low as the cost of articles, and just compen¬ 
sation for labor and time, will allow. 
Farmers and others are invited to call and examine the 
stock of Machines and Implements, and are assured no 
effort shall be wanting to meet promptly the wants of a 
discriminating public. 
Circulars and Catalogues furnished gratis on ap¬ 
plication personally or by mail. E. D. HALI.OCK, 
177tf No. 21 Exchange st., Rochester. 
GARDEN Oil EIRE ENGINE. 
rytHE Subscribers manufacture, and furnish to order, 
1 a Garden or Fire Engine, which for its power, capaci¬ 
ty and usefulness cannot be surpassed. From the size of 
the Air Chamber, sufficient power is obtained to enable 
one man to throw a steady stream of water to the height 
of 50 feet perpendicularly, thereby rendering it a desira¬ 
ble article as a protection against fire, for washing win¬ 
dows of second and third stories of buildings, carriages, 
&c. With our newly invented Water Diffuser, as a Gar¬ 
den Engine it defies competition : tho Diffuser is a perfect 
and simple article, (which we intend to get patented.) and 
its superiority over the Rose Sprinkler, is that it will throw 
four times the quantity of water a much greater distance, 
and spread it perfectly even, with less power applied. 
N. B.—A Garden Engine with a Diffuser of the above 
description, used in orchards and gardens, to throw soap¬ 
suds on the young trees, will destroy many kinds of ver¬ 
min likely to destroy the fruit, and be an invaluable addi¬ 
tion to the implements of the nurseryman and horticul¬ 
turist. COWING & CO. 
Seneca Falls, N. Y., June, 1S53. 183wl0 
X’isE J EVEN CUE INSTRUCTOR, 
BY UNCLE LUCIUS, Syracuse. 
A SEMI-MONTHLY PAPER, expressly for children. 
It aims to attract their attention by simplicity and 
beauty of style, and to infuse into the young mind appro¬ 
priate sentiments of piety and love for parents—sympathy 
for human suffering, and an abiding hatred of oppression 
in all its forms. It ought to be circulated over the eutire 
Union, for this last reason. There is much at stake in 
the question of freedom, and but little said or done to ef¬ 
fect favorably the youtlrful mind. Within the State of N. 
York, the postage is 6 cents per year, paid at the office 
where it is received. In all other Slates, 12 cents yearly. 
In packages of 24 or more the postage, if pro-paid at the 
office of publication, is about 4 cts on each paper. 
Price per year—single copies, 25c.; Five to one address, 
SI; Ten do, SI,70; Twenty do, S3; Thirty do, S4,20; Fifty 
do, §6,50; One hundred do, SI2. 
Address LUCIUS C. MATLACK, 
183m3. Syracuse, N. Y. 
' ATKINS’ SEEF-RAKING REAPER. 
nnlllS MACHINE is now offered to the public and war- 
I ranted to be a good Self-Raking Reaper. It is also 
believed to be a good mower, but not yet having been suf¬ 
ficiently tested in grass (though it soon will be) it is not 
warranted to be equal to a machine made mainly or wholly 
to mow. 
The raking apparatus is of novel and very simple con¬ 
struction, and not liable to derangement, ami every farmer 
who has seen it in the harvest field, says it performs the 
raking better than a man can possibly do it. 
Price of machines at Chicago, §175, of which, S75 must 
be paid on giving the order, §50 upon successful trial, and 
$50 in note payable 1st Doc. 
The machines are most thoroughly built and warranted. 
lYjjF" Descriptive circulars, with cuts, sent to post-paid 
applications. [182m3.] J. S. WRIGHT. 
“Prairie Farmer” Warehouse, Chicago, June, 1853. 
MARSHALL’S HOOK. HINDERT, 
BURNS’ BLOCK corner of State and Buf¬ 
falo street,over Sage & Brother’s Bookstore, 
Rochester, N. Y. 
Music Hooks, Pamphlets, Periodicals, &c., hound in 
plain and fancy bindings; old books rebound; Blank Books 
ruled to any pattern, and bound to order; Public and Pri¬ 
vate Libraries repaired at short notice. Packages con¬ 
taining irections for binding, punctually attended to. 
N. B.—All work warranted, and done at low prices. 
April, 1852. fl22tf] F. H. MARSHALL. 
M ONEY TO LOAN on Bond and Mortgage, on im¬ 
proved farms. L. A. W A RD, 
1 ItiSmfS.] 36 State St., Rochester, N. Y. 
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 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 CopieB 
for §25, and any additional number, directed to individuals 
at the same rate. Six months subscriptions in proportion* 
tusf" 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,— iti advance. OP” 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, 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, brief 
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 be in 
the hands of every owner of Domestic Animals. It is ably 
conducted, published in the 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 Fifth Volume commences with July, 1853. 
Terms:— Fifty Cents a Year; Fivo Copies for §2; 
Eight for S3; Eleven for §4. Back volumes, hound 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. 
