MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
JAN. 5 . 
flWf li 0 
HAPPY HEW YEAR. 
BY BEY. E. S. BORTEK. 
A HAPPy New Year ! wishes one to the other, 
Little Yes roars it out in the ears of his mother, 
And Mary and Susy unite with their brother. 
A happy New Year ! exchange husband and wife, 
With smiles well becoming matrimonial life, 
Undisturbed by the thorns of connubial strife. 
But how shall the year in happiness speed ? 
What gardens will yield in the hour of need 
Sweet flowers, and true, without poisonous weed ? 
Flows there a fountain from time’s sandy waste 
With waters that never will pall in the taste ? 
Or joys that from memory ne’er are effaced ? 
That home will be happy when patience and love 
Draw their strength from the loving Redeemer above, 
And all of its inmates in harmony move. 
Ay, they will be happy -who love to do good, 
Who help clothe the naked and give the poor food, 
And feel for our race as one vast brotherhood. 
’Tis mockery all, happy New Year to speak 
To those who the pleasures of sense only seek, 
And love not the Christ, the holy, and meek. 
A happy New Year will they never find, 
Who know not the peace and contentment combined 
That dwell in the Christian’s love-lighted mind. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TELESCOPIC PHILANTHROPY; 
OB, JOEL SHBLDOFS MISSION. 
BY EDWARD WEBSTER. 
There exists in every community a kind of 
mistaken philanthropy, which goes abroad for 
objects on which to expend itself to the exclu¬ 
sion of others equally worthy and nearer home. 
The man who weeps over the wants and mise¬ 
ries of a foreign people, concerning whom at 
best his information must, in the very nature of 
things, be doubtful, and his chances of benefit¬ 
ing them uncertain, while at the same time he 
turns a deaf ear to the calls of distress in his 
own neighborhood, is, to say the least of it, a 
very unwise and a very unprofitable philan¬ 
thropist. Oppression, misery and wrong, pesti¬ 
lence, famine and death prevail to a greater or 
less extent in every community ; and, while we 
would not deaden the honest desire to lend an 
intelligent and appropriate aid to our far-off and 
suffering brethren of a common humanity, we 
would at least quicken into a greater activity 
the dormant inclinations for home missions of 
beneficence and mercy. 
Joel Sheldon was one of these far-seeing 
philanthropists. He was a young man of very 
creditable intellectual capacities, very credita¬ 
bly developed by several years attendance upon 
the excellent literary institutions of his native 
State Vermont. Born and reared amid her 
green hills and peaceful vallies, far removed 
from the haunts of poverty and crime, and 
mingling only with her free and virtuous pop¬ 
ulation, he very naturally and justly concluded 
that freedom and virtue were the normal state 
of human societv, and that vice and oppression 
were burdens of foreign imposition. Hence by 
a process of specious and plausible reasoning, 
he came to the conclusion that all kinds and 
degrees of servitude, serfdom, and slavery, were 
systems of unmitigated wrong, and that every 
man who held a check over the actions of others 
was a foe to humanity and God. He contem¬ 
plated the subject in the abstract, not in the 
concrete; and failed to see that his doctrines, 
carried out to their ultimate and legitimate re¬ 
sults, would do away with all penal law, crush 
out the supervision of the teacher, and nullifv 
the authoritv of the parent. He believed of 
himself, what is true of all men, that he had a 
mission to perform in righting the wrongs of 
humanity and succoring the distressed ; but he 
committed the mistake, too common in these 
days all over the world, of shutting his eyes to 
miseries at home, and looking afar off for ob¬ 
jects of commiseration. “ The poor always ye 
have with you” was a declaration of the Savior 
lost sight of by him—not because his heart was 
callous to an appeal of distress, but because he 
looked over the heads of minor and common 
sorrows near at hand, and lost himself in the 
contemplation of some monstrous wrong, that 
loomed up grim, shadowy, and terrible in any 
far-off quarter of the globe. 
The struggling rebel of China, the Serf of 
Russia, the manufacturing and the mining la¬ 
borer of England, the poor peasant of Ireland, 
the Slave of South Carolina, had each from him 
a tear for their sufferings and a word for their 
cause. But what could he do for them, living as 
he did in an inland town of Vermont ? He 
could now and then attend an emancipation 
meeting in the town hall, write a letter of en¬ 
couragement to the Irish League established in 
New York for the invasion of Canada, send a 
tract, upon the impiousness and injustice of a 
hereditary aristocracy, and the tyranny of capi¬ 
tal over labor, to a trade strike in Manchester ; 
and he could do nothing more. The South Car¬ 
olinian threatened to nullify unless Northern 
men let him alone; the Irish League wanted 
money and arms, not letters; and the Trade 
Strike of Manchester called for bread, not tracts. 
So Joel Sheldon resolved, in the fullness of his 
philanthropy, to carry the war into Africa, and, 
leaving the fresh, free air of his native hills, to 
pitch his tent and raise his voice amid some one 
of these scenes of oppression. Which one should 
it be ? was the question. After, as he thought, 
a mature deliberation, he resolved to go South 
and open the campaign in the Slave region.— 
His intention was not to preach human equality 
to the slave, but to convert the master—not to 
act as a conductor on the underground railroad, ' 
but to be a flaming sword to the Southern con¬ 
science. 
But now, upon the spur of this intent, sprung 
up difficulties in the path of our hero. He was 
of that age when the charms of the other sex are 
peculiarly effective, and as a consequence had 
been made a willing captive by one of them.— 
Her name was Frances Hayden, a bright, sensi¬ 
ble girl, and one who looked with less romantic 
eyes upon the duties and obligations of life.— 
Well educated, as most New England women 
are, even when born in the humblest station, the 
hardships imposed upon a portionless orphan’s 
lot had made her feet familiar with rugged 
places in the path of life, and fitted her to ap¬ 
preciate the value of a home philanthropy.— 
With a heart open to the approval of an honor¬ 
able passion, and a soul yearning, in the absence 
of home and parents, to bestow its priceless 
treasures upon a worthy object, need it be sur¬ 
prising that Joel Sheldon’s sentiments were 
speedily reciprocated, and that his image was 
readily established within its inmost shrine.— 
Vows of reciprocal and eternal constancy were 
mutually exchanged, and many an hour of bliss¬ 
ful anticipation had they spent together—his 
imagination running riot as was its wont upon 
glorious schemes of future usefulness, and her’s 
looking forward with a soberer and more sub¬ 
dued hopefulness to a future humble but happy 
home. 
Often, in the confidence of the relation that 
existed between them, had she endeavored to 
win him back from his erratic flights, and equal¬ 
ly as often had he in turn striven to impress up¬ 
on her soberer judgment the greatness of his 
aims; and now, when he had finally resolved to 
leave New England, and go upon what he called 
a philanthropic mission to the South, he urged 
upon her the propriety of uniting her destiny 
with his, and of sharing with him the merits of 
the enterprise. This, however, she pointedly 
declined, declaring, with more feeling than she 
had ever manifested before, that he would live 
to regret his folly. 
“ I would accompany you readily,” she said, 
“to the ends of the earth, with a reasonable 
prospect of bettering our condition. I would 
emigrate to the wildest prairie ol the West, or 
seek a habitation further onward towards the 
setting sun. I would cheerfully make Califor¬ 
nia or Oregon our future home in the pursuit of 
any legitimate employment that afforded reas¬ 
onable prospects of success, and I would even go 
South as a teacher for a time, if we could live 
there without interfering with their affairs. I 
am convinced, however, that this is impossible, 
and if you are therefore resolved upon this ad¬ 
venture, you must go alone. The fewer the 
number the better who touch with uninvited 
hand a bleeding wound.” 
He strove in vain to shake her resolution, but 
nevertheless being impressed with the sacred¬ 
ness of his mission, he resolved to sacrifice all 
selfish considerations, such as he deemed this 
matrimonial engagement to be, for the good of 
the race, and to set out for the South forthwith. 
It was, after all, with a good many doubts 
of the wisdom of his course that he left his 
dear old State, and all her sacred scenes and 
associations—and it was with many a bitter 
heart-pang that he contemplated the severance 
of those tender ties that bound him to one of 
the noblest of her sex ; but duty called him, (so 
he said,) and before its imperative mandates all 
mere personal gratifications must give way. So 
he speedily arranged his affairs, which were 
none of the most extensive, betook himself to 
Boston by rail, and thence embarked upon a 
cotton trading vessel bound coastwise for New 
Orleans. 
It was after a long, rough, and tedious voy¬ 
age, in which he suffered intensely from sea 
sickness, and was both commiserated and laugh¬ 
ed at by the sailors, that the vessel touched at 
Charleston, and set the self-constituted mission¬ 
ary on shore, prepared to encounter at once all 
the horrors of negro slavery, oi which he had 
ever read or dreamed. Judge of his surprise 
then, as he stepped upon the wharf, to see, not 
a train of guant and stalking skeletons of men 
in chains, but a busy crowd of smooth-skinned 
Africans rolling bales and ban-els about the 
docks, and chattering and laughing with each 
other. He stepped into a store-house near at 
hand, and observing a well dressed and intelli¬ 
gent gentleman who had been reading a North¬ 
ern newspaper lay it aside, he approached and 
entered at once upon the initiatory labors of his 
mission by descanting upon tbe enormitios of 
the South in general, and of Carolina in partic¬ 
ular—laying open, at the same time, the scheme 
of travel and lecture he had marked out. 
“Where are you from ?” inquired the gentle¬ 
man addressed. 
“ From the green hills of the free and glorious 
old State of Vermont!” exclaimed our hero 
with enthusiasm. 
“ Then I would advise you as a friend to be¬ 
take yourself back again in all convenient haste 
to your own appropriate green hills.'” 
“ Why so ? ” inquired the other, somewhat 
uncertain as to the meaning intended to be con¬ 
veyed in the emphatic repetition of his own 
words. 
“ Because you have mistaken your mission 
altogether. You have overlooked crimes and 
abuses at home, which you can understand and 
might aid in correcting, to meddle with these 
things which you do not understand and can¬ 
not correct. We have our sins as a people, and 
they are bad enough, God knows! but we are 
not altogether the fallen and depraved wretches 
that many at a distance, and who do not know 
us, imagine us to be. Instead of fomenting 
strife, jealousy, and ill will between us, if both 
your people and our own would labor to pro¬ 
mote good feeling, affectionate intercourse, and 
brotherly love, the danger of collision, disunion, 
and bloodshed would be much less likely to oc¬ 
cur. It is impossible for you to carry out the 
scheme proposed, for Southern men won’t stand 
it, and if you make the attempt you will cer¬ 
tainly he lynched, perhaps killed.” 
“ Then I shall fall a martyr in a holy cause, 
and the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the 
church.” 
“ Fall a victim to your own folly, say rather,” 
rejoined the other, “ and the blood of a fool be 
on his own head ! ” 
The papers next morning contained an adver¬ 
tisement that Joel Sheldon, Esq., a gentleman 
from the North, would lecture in a certain hall 
that evening, on the subject of emancipation.— 
Had a live bombshell fallen into a powder mag¬ 
azine, it would not have produced a greater 
commotion. Committees of safety were sum¬ 
moned in all haste, fierce denunciations were 
uttered, a great amount of indignation expend¬ 
ed generally, strong resolutions passed, and an 
executive committee appointed to carry them 
into effect. It was resolved that the citizens 
should abstain from all overt acts of violence, 
and leave the committee to deal with the 
terrible incendiary and hated disturber of 
their domestic peace, as in their wisdom seemed 
most befitting. 
At the hour appointed for the lecture, the hall 
was crowded to its utmost capacity with an ex¬ 
cited crowd, whose curiosity and impatience 
struggled against the resolution to remain quiet 
like the fires of a half awakened volcano pressed 
down by the weight of a superincumbent moun¬ 
tain. The important moment at last arrived, 
and the lecturer stepped out upon the platform, 
—not, as many of the audience imagined him to 
be, a monster in human form, with an incendia¬ 
ry’s torch in one hand, and an assassin’s dagger 
in the other—but a pale, pleasant looking, mild 
spoken,- well dressed young man, who evidently 
to an observant eye had much more of the milk 
of human kindness in his composition than 
wormwood and gall. His appearance somewhat 
mollified the ire of the crowd, but the simple 
announcement of the subject excited it again, 
and cries arose from all parts of the hall, “ Throw, 
him out of the window !” “ Trample him under 
foot!” “ Tar and feather the wretch !” and other 
similar threatenings of vengeance. It was a 
fact, however, worthy of observation, that the 
men most vociferous were those who had the 
least at stake ; the very dregs of the society in 
which they lived, and who never had, nor never 
could, muster sufficient funds to become the 
owners of slaves. 
Amid all this uproar and confusion, the com¬ 
mittee, consisting of a number of intelligent and 
respectable merchants, interposed, took the of¬ 
fending party into custody, and led him out of 
the hall. After subjecting him to a rigid exam¬ 
ination in private, interrogating him as to his 
views and intentions, and perceiving that his 
zeal in what was abstractly a good cause had 
outrun his discretion, they very promptly and 
kindly pointed out to him the impracticability 
of the course he was pursuing ; the insult and 
violence he would bring upon himself, and the 
utter uselessness it would be to others. 
“ The domestic institutions of the South,” they 
said, “ were in their own keeping, and whatever 
of wrong there was in them would be hugged 
all the closer in proportion to the severity of the 
outside pressure. It could not be denied that 
great abuses existed under the laws of the South, 
so they did under the laws of every community 
under heaven ; but the great heart of the people 
was on the side of truth and justice, and public 
indignation was sure to fall upon that man who 
violated its precepts.” 
“ Go home,” they said, “and exercise an active 
philanthropy upon whatever of woe and misery 
you find in the Northern States; visit the man¬ 
ufacturing cities in the midst of chilling winter, 
when trade is dull and provisions high; dive 
into the noisome cellars and dark polluted al¬ 
leys of your great emporiums, where festering 
corruption, bloated intemperance, gaunt starva¬ 
tion, and fiendish crime steal forth at midnight, 
and bury themselves by day ! But before you 
do that, make a tour of observation throughout 
the South, with eyes open- and mouth shut, and 
observe what there is of good as well as evil in 
our midst. You will be kindly treated by our 
citizens, and have an opportunity to see that we 
of the South, and you of the North, are one 
brotherhood both in present interest and future 
destiny. 
Acting upon these suggestions our missionary 
laid aside the toga of the orator, and assumed 
the staff of the pilgrim. He traveled exten¬ 
sively through the Southern States, and although 
he saw much to condemn, he saw infinitely more 
to approve. Instances of low avarice, coarse 
brutality, and unhallowed passion met his eye, 
as they meet the observant eye everywhere, but 
the manly virtues and noble sentiments of an 
enlightened humanity were as common in that 
section of the Union as in that of his own loved 
home. Sectional jealousies and prejudices, how¬ 
ever, had there, as at the North, struck deep their 
baleful roots, and lifted their darksome and pois¬ 
onous shades towards the heavens. A blind¬ 
ness to local evils, and a telescopic philanthropy 
for the benefit of distant objects were abundant¬ 
ly prevalent, some of the results of which will 
be given in another chapter. 
It- is a trying duty to speak plainly of wrong 
which good men perpetrate. It is very easy to 
cry out against crimes which the laws punish, 
and which popular opinion has branded with 
infamy. What is especially demanded of the 
Christian is, a faithful heart, honest, generous 
testimony against enormities which are sanc¬ 
tioned by numbers, and fashion, and wealth, 
and especially by great and honored names, 
and Avhich, thus sustained, lift up their heads to 
heaven, and repay rebuke with menace and 
indignation. 
(if auti 
DISASTROUS EFFECTS OF TERRA-CULTURE. 
First Farmer —In the name of wonders,, neigh¬ 
bor Smith, what have you got there ? 
Second Farmer —Why, you see last year I paid 
$1 for the secret of terra-culture, and this year 
it will cost me $1,000 to get my farm rid of 
these pumpkins, and the trunks of corn stalks 
which we have commenced chopping down this 
morning. Don’t forget to come to the logging 
bee! 
->*-—0.--r- 
HOW TO OPEN BIVALVES 
S«tm, 
AN OLD BALLAD. 
[ The following eccentric ballad is somewhat modernized 
from one given in the “ Songs and Carols, printed from a 
MS. in the Sloane Collection.” It was written about the 
3 -ear 1450.] 
I have a young sister, 
Far beyond the sea ; 
Many are the presents 
Tha,t she sent to me. 
She sent me a cherry 
Witliout any stone, 
She sent me a pigeon 
Without any bone ; 
Without any thorns 
She sent me a briar ; 
She bade me love my lover, 
And that without desire. 
How can a cherry 
Be without a stone ? 
How can a pigeon 
Be without a hone ? 
How can a briar 
Be without a thorn ? 
And who e’er loved without desire, 
Since true love first was horn ? 
When the cherry was a blossom, 
Then it had no stone ; 
When the dove was in the egg, 
Then it had no bone ; 
When first the briar sprouted, 
Never a thorn it bore ; 
And when a maiden has her lover, 
Oh, then she longs no more. 
For M-oore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PHYSIOLOGICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of thirty-eight letters. 
„ „ . , „ ., ,, TT . My 33, 7,15, 3, 37 is one of the vital organs. 
’Talk of opening oysters, said old Hum- , ir . C i ni , oc • ,,, 
, . , . ’ . . My 1, 10, 31, 24, 16, 21, 4, 36 is the name gr 
ie-“ why, nothing s easier, if you only know ,, ,, , - , - . atroa - • w- 
„ to the blood in certain stages of its circulation- 
, , , .... . . , My 11,27, 3,28, 32, 5, 12, 11 is a gas generated 
“ And how s how ? inquired Starlight. ^ . 
“ Scotch snuff,” answered old Hurricane, very ", ... A , „„ n . , , , 
, ■ ’ . , „ ,, . A My 6, 2, 13, 34, 35, 22, 9,21) is an abnormal state 
sententiously. “ Scotch snuff. Bring a little oi J .,, , 
J ° nr t.ho cwcfmri 
it ever so near their noses, and they’ll sneeze 
their lids off.” 
“ I know a genius,” observed Meister Karh 
“who has a better plan. He spreads the bi¬ 
valves in a circle, seats himself in the centre. 
of the system. 
My 29 begins and my 8 ends the name given to 
one of the principal organs of speech. 
My 36, 15, 11, 31, 17, 1, 36, 26 are the names of 
the vessels conveying nutriment to the blood. 
, , . . . .,, My 35,19,25, 7,29, 18, 6,4 is the name given 
and begins spinning a yarn, feometim.es it s an " . .. .. . . . , ... , . . 
. ° . 1 , r ? ,. . , to a family oi worms ol which the leech is a 
adventure m Mexico—sometimes a legend ol - _ J 
^ member 
his loves—sometimes a marvelous stock opera- . , . , 
.. . w ,, , , . , , ,, , My 11,38,14,26, 37 is the seat of the vital or- 
tion m Wall street. As he proceeds, the * na- ^ 
tives’ get interested—one by one they gape 
with astonishment at the tremendous and dire- 
My whole is' a proposition that should be 
e i i- n j heeded by all men. 
iul whoppers which are poured lorth, and as J 
they gape, my friend whips them out, peppers 
’em and swallows them.” 
“ That’ll do,” said Starlight, with a long sigh- 
I wish we had a bushel of ‘millponds’ here 
now—they’d open easy.” 
Answer next week. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
now they a open easy. Three men. A, B and C, buy a grindstone, 
' 1 * which they are to use in the order of their 
YOU KNOW-SAYS HE. ,/ . , , ,, 
_ names. B is to have three per cent, of the 
Many persons, while in conversation, constant- s ^ onc f° r waiting until A has used his part, and 
ly indulge in the use of such expressions as ^ have five per cent for waiting until A 
“ you know,” and “ says he.” Let us consider an< l ® are through. The stone is fifty inches in 
the following reading from Halleck’s beautiful diameter and the shaft is four inches square, 
poem of “ Marco Bozzaris,” and judge of the fit- What part of the radius does the shaft occupy, 
ness of these verbal extras : an d what part must each grind off to have his 
“ At midnight, in his guarded tent—you know, share. N. K. 
The Turk lay dreaming of his power—you know, lESF* Answer next week. 
ness of these verbal extras : an(1 what part must each grind off to have his 
“ At midnight, in his guarded tent—you know, share. N. K. 
The Turk lay dreaming of his power—you know, £@§1“ Answer next week. 
When Greece her knee in suppliance bent—you know, -_ 
Should tremble at his power-you know. Answer to Geographical Enigma in No. 312 : 
“ Strike, till the last armed foe expires—says he, Christopher Columbus. 
Strike, for your altars and your fires—says he, . , 
Strike, for the green graves of your sires—says he, Answer to Algebraical Problem in No. 312 : 
God and your native land—says he!” No. of barrels, 200; price of a barrel, $2,00; 
—*-- No. of dollars received, $400. 
“Let’s see you Travel.” — A strong, hearty, -- 
lazy loafer, who preferred begging for a preca- A friend may be ofien found and lost, but 
rious subsistence to working for a sure one, an old friend can never be found; and nature 
called at the house of a blunt farmer, and, in has provided that he cannot easily be lost, 
the usual language of his tribe, asked for some .. ..... . 
“cold victuals and old clothes.” “You appear MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
to be a stout, hearty-looking man, said the 
r L i. J 1 C ,. . „„ , Irl THE LEADING WEEKLY 
farmer , what do you do foi a living . M liy, Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
not much,” replied the fellow, “ except travel- is published every Saturday 
ing from one place to another.” “ Traveling by n. ». t. moore, Rochester, n. y. 
about, eh ?” rejoined the farmer ; “can you travel office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Poat-osiee. 
pretty well?” ' “Oh, yes, I’m pretty good at terms in - ADVANCE • 
that.” “Well, then,” said the farmer, coolly. Subscription- $2 a year-$l for six months. To Clubs and 
Opening the door, “let’s see you travel.” Agents as follows :—Three Copies one year, for $5 ; SiACopies 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY B. ©. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, Jf. Y. 
Office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Post-Office. 
r j 7 J 7 r j TERMS IN ADVANCE * 
that.” “Well, then,” said the farmer, coolly. Subscription- $2 a year-$l for six months. To Clubs and 
Opening the door, “let’s see you travel.” Agents as follows :—Three Copies one year, for $5 ; SiACopies 
__^ , ft_ (and one to Agent or getter np of club,) for §10 ; Ten Copies 
. . (and one to Agent,) for $15, and any additional number at the 
SPEAKING of politics, we may as well mention same rate, ($1,50 per copy.) As we are obliged to pre-pay the 
that instead of “ Whigs to the Rescue !” “ Dem- American postage on papers sent to the British Provinces, our 
, , ,,, ,, , . , i , Canadian agents and friends must add 1214 cents per copy to 
ocrats Arouse ! “ Americans, stand to your the club rates of the Eural . 
Guns !” a Southern paper rallies the voters to Subscription money, properly inclosed and registered, 
the polls in this wise : may he forwarded at risk - 
*** The postage on the Rural is but 3% cents per quarter, to 
“ Blow the fuzzy guzzy, an y p nr j. gj a ^ e ( exce pt Monroe County, where it goes 
Sound the hewgag, free,) and 6% cents to any other section of the United States— 
Let the hozannah ring, payable quarterly in advance at the office where received. 
Smite the tomjohn, - 
Whack the dumbuzzy, Advertising.—Brief-'and appropriate advertisements will he 
And permit miscellaneous things to rip generally.” inserted at 25 cents a line, each insertion, payable in advance. 
--j .1 i , j Our rule is to give no advertisement, unless very brief, more 
feucil spirited appeals naturally awaken war- than four consecutive insertions. Patent Medicines, &c., will 
like feelings. not be advertised in this paper at any price. The circula- 
-----_ tion of the Rural New-Yorker is at least tm thousand greater 
A Little Incident.-AI an assemblage of a “ ,atof “y °£ e AA s “ r f or s i milai ’J? 1 ™ 1 in 
. ° World,—and from 20,000 to 30,000 larger than that of any oiker 
few friends, one evening, the absence of a lady paper published in this State, out of New York city. 
Was noticed, which was apologized for by an £3 p»A 11 communications, and business letters, should be ad- 
acquaintance, who stated that she was detained drossed to D - D - T - moore, Rochester, N. Y. 
by a little incident. special notices. 
“ Ah, yes, exclaimed Mrs. J ohn Smith, “ and Local Agents do not require any certificate, but can 
a beautiful little incident it was, too ; weighs form clubs "P° n their own responsibility. Those who wish au- 
. , • -i j icij thority to act as Traveling Agents, must furnish the best of 
just nine pounds and a half. recommendations as to integrity, resoonsibility, &c„ or good 
like feelings. 
A Little Incident. —At an assemblage ol a 
• , • -i j , i j? j) thority to act as Traveling Agents, must furnish the best of 
just nine pounds and a half. recommendations as to integrity, responsibility, &<=., or good 
-- references in this city. References to persons at a distance are 
A friend of ours says that he intends apply- useless - 
• ^ , , n i The lowest chib price of the Rural New-Yorker is 
mg for a patent for a machine, which he says, $1 J per yeariy copj , a J any one remitting at a less rate will 
when Wound up and set in motion, will chase a be credited in proportion to the money received. Those who 
hog over a ten acre lot, catch, yoke, and ring send less than the price, with request to send the paper a speci- 
.. t-i.lt „ J fled time or return the money, cannot be accommodated, 
him ; or by a slight change of gearing, it will remitting $15> or raor( , please send draft on New 
chop him into sausages, work his bristles into York, Albany, Buffalo, or Rochester, (less cost of exchange,) or 
shoe-brushes, and manufacture his tail into a clieck or Certificate of deposit on any Bank in either of said 
t ti l t • lt l cities,— payable to our order. 
cork-screw. Great machine, that. , , , 
Those who are forming large clubs can send on the 
■*"*■*■ names and money of such persons as do not wish to wait, and 
Wanted —By a maiden Lady, “ a local habi- complete their lists afterwards, 
tation and a name.” The real estate she is not Agents will please make their first remittance as early 
particular about, so that the title is good. The “ “oks! ™ S ^ ^ ° f 
name she wishes to hand down to posterity. BCF For $4 we will send one copy of the Rural, and either 
--— Putnam’s, Harper's, the Knickerbocker, Lady’s Book or Gra- 
A wag says that Dr. Kane tried to get to the ham ’ 3 Magazme for one year - 
Pole to deposit his vote ; hut the iceberg faction . S^AGENTS-Any person so disposed can act as local agent 
1 ’ & for the Rural, and all who remit according to terms will be 
prevented him. entitled to premiums, etc. 
cork-screw. Great machine, that. 
tation and a name.” The real estate she is not 
particular about, so that the title is good. The 
name she wishes to hand down to posterity. 
Pole to deposit his vote ; hut the iceberg faction 
prevented him. 
