MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
LINES ADDRESSED TO GERALD. 
When bright Flora's wreaths were forming, 
And the Spring was earth adorning, 
In my balmy girlhood morning; 
When all life was merry laughter, 
And in joy no storm came after; 
When the children, birds were greeting, 
And I smiled to see the meeting— 
In joy I met thee, Gerald. 
When we culled Life's flowers together, 
Never dreaming friends would sever 
And the dearest fled forever,— 
When our friend of love’s own making 
Slept “ the sleep that, knows no waking;’’ 
When dark sorrow, like a shadow. 
Veiled all earth, each grove and meadow— 
In grief I met thee, Gerald. 
When no tears arc vainly streaming, 
And a heavenly light is gleaming, 
In a land of joyous dreaming; 
When in thought a fancy rover, 
And bright angels round me hover; 
When lost friends are seen all smiling, 
And no sin is aught beguiling— 
In dreams I’ve met thee, Gerald. 
When the birds, no longer singing, 
Far off South their way are winging; 
When I loved a school bell's ringing; 
When the autumn winds were sighing, 
And the flowers like friends were dying; 
When in thoughts deep regions mining, 
Gems to find, pure gold outshining— 
In school I met thee, Gerald. 
When to God, I’m nightly kneeling, 
And a joyful, tranquil feeling, 
Every care and grief is stealing; 
When thy name I’m gently saying, 
And for friends, I’m ever praying; 
When fond hearts will hold communion, 
By the Christian’s spirit union— 
In prayer I’ve met thee, Gerald. 
When to friendship cold and fleeting, 
I compare thy hearty greeting, 
And the last, our farewell meeting; 
When the burning tear is starting, 
For the bitter woes of parting; 
When the first bright star is twinkling, 
Oh! I’m sad, and sadly thinking— 
When shall I meet thee, Gerald ? 
When my grief is all too choking, 
And on earth, no lonely token, 
Speaks of ties so rudely broken; 
When “ the bow of Promise’s” keeping, 
Is reflected through my weeping; 
When new light the tear is staying, 
All my joy is found in praying, 
In Heav'n to meet thee, Gerald. 
Missourtr. 
llural ^Sketcfj §00(1, 
THE LOST FLOWERS. 
It was a beautiful morning in May, when 
Jeanie Gray, with a small bundle in her 
hand, took her leave of the farm house of 
Drylaw, on the expiration of her half year’s 
term of servico. She had but a short dis¬ 
tance to walk, the village of Elsington, about 
three milos off, being her destination. As 
she passed down the little lane leading from 
the farm to the main road, two or three fair¬ 
haired childron came bounding over the stile 
to hor side, and clung affectionately around 
their late attendant. 
“ Oh, Jeanie, what for maun ye gang 
away ? Mamma wadna let us see you out 
on the road a bit, but we wan away to you 
by rinnin’ round the stack yard.” 
Jeanie stood still as the oldest of her late 
charges spoke thus, and said : 
“Marian, you should have had mairsenso 
than to come when your mother forbade 
you. Kin away back, like guid bairns,” 
continued she, caressing them kindly. “Kin 
away hame. I'll may be come and soo you 
again.” 
“ Oh, bo suro and do that then, Jeanie,” 
said the eldest. 
“Como back again, Jeanie,” cried the 
younger ones, as they turned sorrowfully 
away. 
From such marks of affection, displayed 
by thoso who had been under her care, our 
readers may conceive that Jeanie Gray was 
possessed of engaging and amiablo qualities. 
This was indeed the case; a more neat, mod¬ 
est and kind hearted creature perhaps nev¬ 
er drow the breath of life. Separated at an 
oarly ago from her parents, like so many of 
hor class—that class so perfectly represent¬ 
ed in the character of Jenny, in the “ Cot¬ 
ter’s Saturday Night”—she had conducted 
herself in the several families which she had 
entered, in such a way as to acquiro uni¬ 
formly their love and esteem. Some mis- 
tressos, it is true, are scarcely able to appre¬ 
ciate a good and faithful servant; and of 
this class was Mrs. Smith, of Drylaw; a 
cold, haughty, mistrustful woman, who, hav¬ 
ing suffered by bad servants, had come to 
look upon the best of them as sordid work¬ 
ers for the penny fee. To such a person, 
the timidity and reserve which distinguished 
Jeanie Gray’s character to a fault, soemod 
only a screen, cunningly and deliberately 
assumed; and the proud distanco which 
Mrs. Smith preserved, prevented her from 
ever discovering the ei'ror. Excepting for 
the sake of the children, therefore, it is not 
to be wondered at that Jeanie felt no regret 
at leaving Drylaw. 
Her destination on departing from hor 
late abode was, as we have already men¬ 
tioned, the village of Elsington; and it is 
now necessary that wo should divulge a 
more important matter — she was going 
there to be married. Jeanie Gray could 
not be called a beautiful girl, yet her cheer¬ 
ful, though pale countenance, hor soft dark 
eyo and glossy hair, and her somewhat 
handsome form, had attracted not a few ad¬ 
mirers. Her matrimonial fate, howover, 
had been early decided; the circumstancos 
under which it was to be brought to a happy 
issue, were most honorable to both parties 
interested. At the age of eighteen, Jeanie’s 
heart had been sought and won by William 
Ainslie, a young tradesman in the neighbor¬ 
ing town. Deep was the affection that 
sprang up between the pair; but they com¬ 
bined prudenco with love, and resolved, 
after binding themselves by the simple lovo 
vows of their class, to defer their union un¬ 
til they should have earned enough to in¬ 
sure them a happy and comfortablo home. 
For six long years they had been true to 
each other, though they had met only at 
rare intervals during the whole of that 
period. By industry and good conduct. 
William had managed to lay up the sum of 
forty pounds, a great deal for one in his 
station ; and this, joined by Jeanio’s lesser 
earnings, had encouraged them to give way 
to the long cherished wishes of their hearts. 
A but-and-a-ben, or a cottage with two 
apartments, had been taken and furnished 
by William, and the wedding was to take 
place on tho day following the May-term, in 
the house of tho bride’s sister-in-law. 
Wo loft Jeanie Gray on her way from tho 
farm house of Drylaw. After her momen¬ 
tary regret at parting with tho children, 
whom tho affectionate creature dearly loved, 
as she was disposed to every living thing 
around her, her mind rovertod naturally to 
the object nearest her heart. Tho bright 
sun above sent his cheering radianco thro’ 
tlio light fleecy clouds of the young summer, 
tho revivified trees cast their shade over her 
path, the merry lark rose leapingly from 
tho fields, and the sparrow chirped from the 
hedge at her side; every thing around her 
breathed of happiness and joy, and her 
mind soon brightened into unison with tho 
pleasing influence. Yet ever and anon a 
flutter of indescribable emotion thrilled 
through tho maiden’s heart, and made her 
cheeks, though unseen, vary in hue. At an 
angle of the road, while she was moving 
along aborbed in her own thoughts, a manly 
voice exclaimed, “Jeanie!” and a well known 
form started up from a seat on tho wayside. 
It was William Ainslio. The conversation 
which followed, as the betrothed pair pur¬ 
sued their way and laid open their hearts 
to each other, we cannot, and shall not at¬ 
tempt to describe. 
After Jeanie had parted for a timo with 
William, and was seated quietly in her sis¬ 
ter-in-law’s house, a parcel was handed in 
to hor from a lady in whoso servico she had 
formerly been. On being opened, it was 
found to contain some artificial flowers, 
which the lady destined as a present to 
adorn the wedding cap—an ornament re¬ 
garding which brides among tho Scottish 
peasantry are rather particular. The kind¬ 
ness displayed in tho gift, moro than its 
value, affected Jeanie’s heart, and brought 
tears to her eyes. She fitted tho flowors to 
har cap, and was pleased to hear her sister- 
in-law’s praises of their beautiful effect.— 
Fatal present! but let us not anticipate. 
The wedding came and passed, not ac¬ 
companied with boisterous mirth and up¬ 
roar, but in quiet cheorfulness ; for William, 
like his bride, was peaceful in his tastes and 
habits. Let the reader then supposo tho 
festive occasion over in decent order, and 
the newly married pair seated in their new 
house—their own house—at dinner, on the 
following day. William had been at his 
work that morning as he was wont, and his 
young wife had prepared their humble and 
neat dinner. Oh! how delicious was the 
food to both. Their happiness was almost 
too deep for language. Looks of intense 
affection and tenderness were its only ex¬ 
pression. 
“ I maun be a truant, Jeanie, to-night,” 
said tho husband. “My comrades in the 
shop maun hao a foy frao mo, since wo 
couldna ask them a’ to the wedding, ye ken.” 
“Surely,” said the wife,raising hor timid, 
confiding eyes to his face, “ whatever you 
think right, William; I ken you are nae 
waster, and they wad hae shown the same 
kindness to you.” 
“ I hope you’ll find me nae waster,” re¬ 
turned her husband smiling; “ nor am I 
fear’d for you turning out ane either, 
Jeanie, lass, though ye was sae very braw 
about tho head last night.” By tho direc¬ 
tion of his eyes to tho artificial flowers which 
had adorned her wedding cap, and which 
were lying on tho top of her now stand of 
drawers at the moment, Joanio saw to what 
her husband alluded. 
“ Oh, the flowers !” said she. blushing; 
“ thoy didna cost mo a mucklo, William.” 
The conversation of the pair was at this 
moment interrupted by tho entrance of Mrs. 
Smith, of Drylaw, who mentioned, with an 
appearance of kindness, that, having been 
accidentally in Elsington that day, sho had 
thought it her duty to pay a friendly visit 
to Jeanie and hor good man. Whether 
curiosity had any share in bringing about 
the visit or friendly feeling, it matters not. 
Jeanie and William received her as became 
her rank, and tho relation in which tho 
former had lately stood regarding her.— 
Bread and cheese wore brought out, and 
she was pressed to taste a drop of tho best 
liquor they possessed. 
Alas ! how sudden are tho revolutions in 
human affairs. The party was in the midst 
of an amicable conversation, when Mrs. 
Smith’s eye happened to be caught by tho 
boquet on the top of the drawers, and a ro- 
markable change was at once observed in 
hor manner. 
“Jeanie,” said she with deep emphasis, 
and rising anger, “ I did not expect to find 
my flowors lying thore. Say not a word— 
I see it all — I see it all — you have been a 
thief— there is tho evidence of it — I shall 
not stay another instant in your house !” 
So saying, tho infuriated and reckless 
woman rushed from tho dwelling of the 
wonder-stricken pair. Joanio, as we have 
already mentioned, was timid and modest 
to a fault. When her late mistress thus 
addressod hor, she motioned to speak, but 
could not, though tho blood rushed to her 
face, and her bosom heaved convulsively. 
When left alono with her husband, sho 
turned her eyes wildly towards him, and a 
flood of tears gushed over her cheeks.— 
What thought William of all this ? His 
emotion was scarcoly loss on hearing the 
accusation, and recollecting her saying that 
tho flowers cost her nothing, alas ! ho fear¬ 
ed that the charge was but too true. The 
moro than feminine delicacy and timidity 
of his wife was not fully known to him, and 
her voiceless agitation appeared, too, like 
an inability to confute tho imputation.— 
He rose, and while Jeanie. still incapable of 
utterance, could only hold up her hands 
deprecatingly, ho cast on her a glanco of 
mingled sorrow and rebuke, and left tho 
room. His wife—his bride—stricken in the 
first flush of her matronly joy and pride, 
sunk from hor chair on his departure—in¬ 
sensible ! 
It was rather lato, from a cause that has 
been alluded to, before William Ainslio re¬ 
turned to his home that night. His vyifo 
had retired to rest, but her sister-in-law, 
who had been sent for by Jeanie, was in 
waiting for him and revealed tho utter 
falsehood of Mrs. Smith’s accusation, sho 
having been an eyewitness of tho receipt of 
*tho flowers, as a present from another lady. 
“ Tako care o’ Jeanie, William,” said tho 
sister-in-law ; sho is ill— a charge o’ that 
kind is enough to kill her.” 
This prediction unhappily had truth in 
it. On tho ensuing morning, tho young 
wife was raving incoherently, in a state be¬ 
tween slumber and awaking. A deep flush 
remained permanently upon her counte¬ 
nance, most unlike her usual fair complexion. 
Her muttered exclamations shocked her 
husband to the soul. 
“ Oh, William, you believed it! but it’s 
not true ; it’s not true ; it is falso !” was tho 
languago she continually murmured forth. 
Medical skill was speedily seen to bo ne¬ 
cessary, and tho surgeon who was called in, 
; informed William that, in consequence of 
strong excitement, incipient symptons of 
brain fever had made their appearance.— 
The utmost quiet was prescribed, and blood 
i withdrawn from tho temples in considerable 
quantity. For a timo, theso and othor 
remedies seemed to give relief, and the 
poor husband never left tho side of the suf¬ 
ferer. Indeed, it seemed as if sho could 
not bear him to ho absent; her mind always 
reverting, when he was out of her sight, to 
the idea that ho believed tho charge which 
had been made against her, and had left 
her forever. The oft-repeated assurances 
to the contrary, from his own lips, seemed 
at length to produce conviction, for she at 
last was silent on tho subject. But tho 
charge—tho blow—had struck too deep.— 
Jeanie Ainslio, if we may call her by a name 
she was destined so short a time to boar, 
j fell, after two or three day’s illness into a 
I state of stupor, which continued with short 
and rare intervals, and on tho eighth day 
after her nuptials, her pure spirit departed. 
William Ainslio had shown on many oc¬ 
casions in life, great firmness and self com¬ 
mand ; and now, though deep suffering was 
! written on his brow, ho made, with at least 
1 external composure, tho requisite prepara- 
i tions for laying in tho gravo tho remains of 
her he had" loved so long and so truly.— 
As to retribution upon tho head of tho per¬ 
son who had been instrumental, through 
inconsidcrato hastiness only, it is to be 
hoped, in producing his misery, the be¬ 
reaved husband thought not of calling for 
it. Yet it did come to a certain extent; 
for our errors seldom pass, even in this life, 
! without a pang of punishment and remorso. 
Sevoral days after charging tho innocent 
Jeanie with the abduction of her flowers, 
Mrs. Smith of Drylaw, found, by a discov¬ 
ery of her new servant, that one of her 
younger children, impatient for the flower¬ 
ing of a rose bush in the little garden nigh 
the farm house, had lighted upon an arti¬ 
ficial flower in her mother’s dressing room, 
and had carried it out and stuck it upon 
the bush. There tho flowers were accord¬ 
ingly found; and Mrs. Smith, who was far 
from being an evil-intentionod woman, did 
feel regret at having charged the loss upon 
tho guiltless. Ignorant of all that had 
passed at Elsington in tho interval, sho de¬ 
termined to call at William Ainslie’s on her 
visit to the villago, and explain her mistake. 
The call was made two days after Jeanie’s 
death ; and on Mrs. Smith’s entering tho 
room, she found William sitting by his be¬ 
reaved hearth with his sister-in-law, and an¬ 
other kind neighbor, bearing him company. 
“Oh—by the by—thoso flowers!” said 
tho unwelcomo visitor, in a tone and in a 
manner which sho meant to he condescend¬ 
ing and insinuating, “ how sorry I am for 
what happened about thoso flowers! Where 
do you think I found them after all ?—on a 
rose bush in the garden whore Jemima had 
put them. And now I am come to say I 
am sorry for it, and hope that it will be all 
over.” 
William Anslio had risen slowly during 
this extraordinary speech; and, now, rais¬ 
ing his fingor towards his lips, ho ap¬ 
proached and took Mrs. Smith by tho hand 
bockoning at the same time to the two wo¬ 
men who were seated with him. They 
seemed intuitively to comprehend his wish¬ 
es, and rising, moved towards tho bed, 
around which tho curtains wero closely 
drawn, William leading forward also tho un¬ 
resisting and bewildered visitor. Tho wo¬ 
men drew the curtain aside, and William, 
fixing his oyes on Mrs. Smith, pointed si- 
lontly to tho body of his wifo, shrouded in 
tho coroments of death, and lying with tho 
pale uncovered face upturned to that heav¬ 
en for which her pure life had hoen a fitting 
preparation. The wrotched and falso ac¬ 
cuser gazed with changing color on tho 
corse of the dead innocent; and, turning 
hor looks for a moment on the silent faces 
around, that rogarded hor more in sorrow 
than in anger, sho uttered a groan of an¬ 
guish as the truth broke on her, then burst¬ 
ing from tho hand that held hor, she hasti¬ 
ly departed from tho house. 
There is little now to add to this melan- 
cnoly story, which, unhappily, is but too 
true. Tho little wo havo to add, is but in 
accordance with what has been told. After 
the burial of his Jeanio, William Ainslio de¬ 
parted from Elsington ; and what was his 
future fortune no one can tell, for he never 
was seen or heard of again in his native 
place. As for tho unhappy woman who 
was the occasion of tho lumentablo catas- 
trophe which we havo related, sho lived to 
deplore the rashness of which sho was 
guilty. Lot us hope that circumstances 
had an influence on her future conduct, and 
will not be without its moral efficacy in the 
midst of our .readers. 
m)s lumor. 
Tiie Barrister Matched. —At a lato 
quarter sessions a man was brought up by a 
farmer and accused of stealing some ducks. 
Tho farmer said ho should know them any¬ 
where, and went on to describo their pecu¬ 
liarity. “Why,” said tho counsel for tho 
prisoner, “ they can’t bo such a rare breed 
—I have some like them in my yard.”— 
“ That’s very likely, sir,” said tho farmer. 
“ thoy aro not tho only ducks I have had 
stolen lately !” 
Site had Him. —Dr. Boynton, in a recont 
lecture, stated that wishing, on one occa¬ 
sion, to explain to a little girl the manner in 
which tho lobster casts its shell, when it has 
outgrown it, ho said : what do you do, when 
you have outgrown your clothes ? You 
throw them aside, don’t you ? “ O no,” re¬ 
plied tho little ono, “ we let out tho tucks !” 
Tho Doctor confessed that she had the ad¬ 
vantage of him there. 
A Drunken Fellow ran against a house 
which had been newly painted. Shoving 
himself clear by a vigorous effort, ho took 
one glimpse at his shoulder, another at tho 
house, and a third at his hand, and exclaim¬ 
ed :—“ Well, that is a darned careless trick 
in whoever painted that house, to leave it 
standing out all night for peoplo to run 
against!” 
The Chatauquo Democrat tolls a protty 
good story concerning tho post-office in 
Wostfield. A letter was put into tho box, 
the appearance of which denoted that tho 
writer was unaccostomed to tho use *of 
stamps, and had failed to mako ono stick at 
all. Ho had tried and vainly tried, but tho 
inveterate portrait of Benjamin Franklin 
would curl up. At-last, in despair, ho pin¬ 
ned it to the envelopo, and wroto just under 
it—“ paid if the thing slicks!” 
An old Count paid his addresses to ono of 
the richest heiresses of Paris. In asking hor 
hand in marriage, he frankly said to her: 
“ Miss B., I am very old and you are very 
young—will you do mo tho honor to be¬ 
come my widow ?” 
The reason that the organ in Dr. S -’s 
church, did not “ play,” last Sabbath, says a 
Boston paper, was caused wo learn, by its 
having a new “ stop” put to it. It was ad¬ 
ded, we believe, by tho deputy sheriff. 
Wide Awake. —A good lady at Frank- 
ford refused to let her daughter dance with 
a young Univorsity man, because sho un¬ 
derstood ho was a Bachelor of Arts. 
A Puzzle. —I tied a knot in a cord of 
wood, || I caused tho wood to grow,|| I now 
would like to soo tho man || That made a 
hay-cock crow. 
One friend asked another why ho mar¬ 
ried so little a wife. “ Why,” said ho “ I 
thought you had known that of all evils wo 
should choose the least.” 
“Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Njthing’sso hard, but search will find it out.’ 1 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am comprised of 22 letters. 
My 7, 1, 19, 15, 6, 9, 4 is a town in the State of 
New York. 
My 12, 3, 5, 16, I is a part of the human body. 
My 14, 15, 1,3, 8 is the name of the apostle 
who sat with the servants in the high priests 
palace. 
My 11, 5, 6, 6, 13,15 is the name of my friend, 
My 10, 5, 22, 3 is most frequently used by the 
gentlemen. 
My 17 is odc of the letters of the alphabet. 
My 8, 21, 20, 15 is a beautiful flower. 
My 18, 2, 17, 22, 5 is the name of a far distant 
country. 
My whole is one of the great inventions of 
modern times. l. w. s. 
Meeklenburgli, N. Y., 1853. 
Answer next week. 
RIDDLE FOR YOUNG AMERICANS. 
The North British Advertiser gives the follow¬ 
ing dialogue over a draper’s counter ; 
Old Woman —(looking at a piece of cloth)—Aw 
oo ? 
Shopman —Oo i, aw oo. 
Old Woman —Aw ae oo ? 
Shopman —Oo i, aw ae oo. 
{^'Translation next week. 
ANSWER TO ENIGMA, &c., IN NO. 30. 
Answer to Charade— Hail-road Stock. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma— 'The Crystal 
Palace at Now York. 
Ornamental and Domestic Pouliiy. 
T HE subscriber having invested a large amouut in this 
business, is now prepared to fill any orders which he 
may receive. The celebrated Brahma, Sumata, Game, 
Palmer, Marsh and White Shanghais, with many oilier 
popular varieties, are from the yard of C. C. Plaisted, Esq., 
Great Falls, N. II., and of course cannot he surpassed in 
the world. My Imperial Cochin China Fowls are from 
Col. B. P. Johnson, his stock imported last year, ’52,from 
the best breeders in England. All who well know Col. 
J., will understand that he lias the best or none. My 
black Spanish are quite late, and will not be ready for 
market before next spring. They are from Mr. John 
Giles, late imported, the best blood in the country. These 
birds arc so fast coming into repute that the price will 
doubtless run high for some years to come, as will also be 
the case with the Brahma, Sumatra, Game, &c. All per¬ 
sons purchasing fowls from me, can enjoy the benefit of 
my advertising, in case they wish to sell Chickens next 
year. 
I am quite sure that our southern and western fanciers 
can be better suited here than farther east, as the long 
distance on railroad much injures the health and growth 
of the fowls. 
As there are many fowls in market which have no claim 
upon the public favor, I will give my patrons something 
more tangible than my own words, for 
“ If self the wavering balance shake, 
It’s rarely right adjusted.” 
I am therefore permitted to refer all who entertain any 
scepticism, to the following gentlemen :—Col. B. P. John¬ 
son, Secretary N. Y. State Agricultural Society, Albany, 
N. Y.; Hon. Ambrose Stevens, N. Y. City; lion. LewisF. 
Allen, Black Rock, N. Y. 
Address O. B. EVANS, 214 Main street, 
194-3m _ Buffalo, N. Y., Box 1602. 
C I St C 5J I, A K . 
W E have just published, and would respectfully in¬ 
vite the attention of the trade to 
DANIEL WEBSTER’S LIFE, EULOGY, AND 
FOUR GREAT ORATIONS. 
This volume is printed in the best style of typographical 
art, on a superior quality of paper. It contains one hun¬ 
dred and eighty-four pages, and is illustraied with tho 
most accurate and splendid Steel Portrait of Mr. Webster 
extant. Tne Life is from the accomplished pen of Louts 
Gaylord Clark, the able and popular editor of the Knick¬ 
erbocker Magazine. The Eulogy is by an eloquent and 
appreciating American writer. The four great Orations 
comprise the most eloquent and popular of Air. Webster’s 
intellectual efforts, viz: 
Adams and Jefferson, Bunker Hill Monument, 
First Settlement of N ew England, and 
Reply to Hayne. 
The work is duly entered according to Act of Congress, 
and is stereotyped in the best manner. It is an authorized 
edition, and sanctioned by Air. Webster's family and 
executors. 
Terms :—Paper hound—For 100 copies, 35cents; lj'00 
copies,30cts.; retail,50cis. Muslin bound—for lOOcopies 
50ets.; 1,000 do., 45 cts.; retail, 75 cts. 
Liberal terms of exchange. Address all orders to 
WIBUR M. HAYWARD & CO, 
Publishers, Rociiesler, N. Y. 
N. B.—Agents wanted to wholesale and retail the above 
work. 193-4t 
Rochester, Sept. 5, 1853. 
Improved Portable Cider Mill arid Press. 
H ICKOK’S Improved Portable Cider Mill and Press, re¬ 
ceived the following premiums ir. 1352, viz.:—A Sil¬ 
ver Medal at the Fair of the American Institute, N. York. 
Diploma at the Franklin Institute, Philadelphia. First 
premiums at the State Fair at Utica, and at the Columbia 
and Rensselaer County Fairs, and diploma al the West¬ 
chester County Fab-. 
Descriptive circulars sent free to all post-paid applica¬ 
tions. See page 254 of this paper, for engraving. Price, 
•840,—and all persons living near Rochester or away from 
any agency, may order of me, and when they get ttie mill 
they may deduct the freight and remit the balance to me. 
Manufactured by VV. O. 111CKOK, 
Harrisburg, Pa. 
Sold by LONGETT & GRIPPING, 25 Clifi’-st., N. Y. 
EMERY & GO., Albany. 
DANA BROTHERS, Utica. 
PROUTY & CHEW, Geneva. 
HIGGINS & CALKINS, Castile, Wyoming Co. 
C. E. YOUNG. Maiu-st., Buffalo. 
O. GREGORY, Binghamton. 
CHAS. ASHLEY, Ogdensburg. 
D. LANDRETH, Philadelphia. 188-Stwlm 
Springfield, Ohio, May 1, 1852. 
Mr. W. O. Hickok : Dear Sir ,—I purchased one of 
your improved cider mills at the State Fair at Lancaster, 
Pa., last year. Since then I have tested it effectually, and 
must say it surpasses any machine, for the purpose it is 
intended for, that I have ever seen, and I have examined 
a go >d many, before purchasing and since. Its construc¬ 
tion being simple, it never gets out of order. It supasscs 
my most sanguine expectation. Could I not procure an¬ 
other one, I would not part with mine for four times the 
priee of them, as 1 know its value. 
_ Yours truly, CHAS. M. CLARK. 
FOIE SAILE. 
JHe\ A VALUABLE FARM OF 103 ACRES, four 
w, V..r miles North-west of Weedsport, (a good market, 
■Mall 011 Erie Canal,) and miles from the Syracuse 
and Rochester direct Railroad. The said Farm has 140 
acres improved, and in a good state of cultivation, and is 
well situated for two farms if desirable, as there are two 
houses, two barns, two orchards of a good variety of fruit, 
and a fine timbered lot on each end of the farm. Fifty 
acres is seeded to Clover and Timothy, and 30 acres is in¬ 
tended for wheat this fall. For further particulars, inquire 
of, or apply to the subscriber on the premises. 
N. B.—Purchasers wishing only a hundred, or fifty acres 
can be accommodated. JACOB EAKER. 
Conquest, Cayuga Co., N. Y., Aug. 5, 1853. k 
SUFFOLK PIGS FOR SALE. 
rpWENTY PAIRS of pure bred Suffolk Pigs for sale 
X by the subscriber. Also Breeding Sows. They can 
be safely forwarded by Railroad, Express, &e., to almost 
any part of the country. C. J. HOLDEN, 
June, 1853. * fl86m3] Walepoie, N. II. 
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 Copies 
for §25, and any additional number, directed to individuals 
at the same rRte. Six months subscriptions in proportion* 
OF” Subscription money, properly enclosed, may bo 
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. 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 arc preferred. Patent medicines, &e., will 
not be advertised in this paper on any terms. 
YW 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 
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 the Wool 
and Cattle Markets, and much other usefvl and reliable 
information which can bo obtained from no other source. 
The Fifth Volume commences with July, 1853. 
Terms: — Fifty Cents a Year; Five Copies for §2 ; 
Eight for §3; Eleven for §1. Back volumes, bound in 
paper, at 40 cts. each,—unbound at 35 cts., or three for §1. 
Published monthly, in octavo form. Specimen numbers (j 
sent free. Money, properly enclosed, at our risk. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
