iiKVW'i/’Ij'U'U'W'ilV 
. .PI.■I.mI/'.PU ......tP»..>.'M<.. ...................... 
60 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
FEB. 16. 
Sljaite '{Jiutr.y. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“I’LL PRAY FOR THEE.” 
BY IDA FAIRFIELD. 
*• I'll pray for thee,” my mother said, 
And laid her soft hand on my head ; 
« Lift up thine heart and bend thy knee, 
My bright boy, while I pray for thee.” 
I listened trembling by her chair, 
To catch the accents of that prayer 
Which softly on the night-breeze stole, 
Yet thrilled me to mine inmost soul. 
I grew a proud and wayward boy, 
My "father’s shame and not his joy ; 
Who spurned control, and only trod 
The path which leads afar from God. 
But in the still and holy night 
Unbidden tears would dim my sight; 
So illy could my spirit bear 
The memory of my mother’s prayer. 
I wandered further in the wrong. 
The oath, the jest, the ribald song 
Familiar were ; the maddening wine 
I clutched with joy and hailed it mine. 
But whispers haunt me as I tread, 
And shadows fill my path with dread ; 
I hear amid my wildest glee, 
My mother’s voice, «I’ll pray for thee.” 
It called me like a spirit back, 
To tread my childhood’s purer track ; 
It warned me of the coming woe, 
The sinner’s fearful overthrow ; 
The anger of offended Heaven, 
The doom which greets the unforgiven, 
And taught me how to lift on high 
My own, repentant, bitter cry. 
My mother slumbers, sweetly now, 
An angel light is on her brow ; 
My hair is whitened for the bier, 
My task is well nigh finished here ; 
But till life’s last blight sand is run— 
Until the lookod-for goal is won, 
A hovering vision shall I see, 
And heat my mother pray for me. 
New York, Feb. 1,1856. 
if*’* Ifmu*. 
ONLY TWO OF US. 
BY MBS. M. E. ROBISON. 
“ I’ve made an engagement for you to spend 
a day out, this week,” observed Squire Crosby, 
as his wife was placing dinner upon the table. 
“Have you ? I’m sorry, for I fear I shall be 
too busy to fulfil it,” she rejoined, in a slight 
tone of regret. 
« Busy about what!” testily exclaimed the 
speaker. “1 would respectfully inquire for 
somewhat less than the hundreth time, what 
you can possibly find to do ? It seems to me 
that you must really suffer for want of exercise.” 
«I do, undoubtedly,” said Mrs. Crosby, drily. 
“ It can’t be otherwise,” continued the Squire, 
decidedly. “ It is a comparatively idle life for 
a woman to attend to a few household cares 1” 
“ A few household cares !” 
« Yes, my dear Mrs. Crosby, and the washing 
put out into the bargain. What a laborious 
business.” Squire Crosby looked very wise, 
and spoke with a slight degree of irony. 
“ You talk like one who is unacquainted with 
his subject; but at the same time I am willing 
to allow that you know as much about it as the 
generality of men ; and that can’t be constructed 
into a compliment to the sex, by any means.” 
“But isn’t the fact a self-evident one, Mrs. 
Crosby ? Havn’t I eyes, and can’t I see — ob¬ 
serve— look about me — comprehend?” de¬ 
manded the Squire. 
“ You might without doubt; but whether 
you do, is another thing,” rejoined his wife. 
“ Be that as it may, however, I am satisfied that 
I can find enough to keep me out of idleness.” 
“ When there is only two of us ?” 
“ Only two of us,” added Mrs. Crosby, quietly; 
“ for it is just as necessary that two should eat 
as four.” 
“ Well, it certainly must be a great undertak¬ 
ing to cook a little food, wash a few dishes and 
lay the table three times a day ! Why, I could 
accomplish the whole in less than two hours 1" 
“ Those duties you have named do not com¬ 
prise the whole of housekeeping, Mr. Crosby.” 
« Perhaps not; I should not mind throwing 
in a little dusting and sweeping, once in a while. 
But it certainly appears laughable to hear a 
woman complain of the work when there’s only 
two in the family. I verily believe it’s nothing 
but habit,” quoth the Squire. 
“ Suppose you try it for one day,” proposed 
Mrs. Crosby. “ I’ll go to the office and do your 
work, and you can remain at home and do mine.” 
“It’s rather a novel proposition, and I don’t 
at this time, recall to mind any celebrated men 
that did housework. I havn’t the least objec¬ 
tion to trying it, however, and presume it will 
be the easiest day’s work I shall have this year,” 
rejoined the husband. 
Both being agreed, the next day was selected 
for the exchange of employments. A quiet 
smile lurked about Mrs. Crosby’s mouth, and 
the Squire evidently thought it a fine joke ; one 
which would afford him a large fund of merri¬ 
ment, and be the means of proving to his wife 
that housework was nothing more than a pleas¬ 
ant amusement. 
She, deluded woman, thought her time was 
fully occupied in keeping a good sized house 
tidy, and devising new means of gratifying the 
the palate of the Squire ; who, strange to say, 
liked good food, and an abundance of it. He 
seemed to think that this jumped upon the 
table ready cooked, and that Mrs. Crosby (or 
some other person,) had but to utter a few mag¬ 
ical words, and everything was done. But to 
hear these trifling duties termed enormous, 
when there was “only two of them” to look 
after, seemed a great absurdity to Squire Crosby, 
and he inwardly resolved to write an article on 
the subject, and let the sterner sex know how 
much they werefimposed upon. 
While reflecting upon this laudable determi¬ 
nation, Mrs. Crosby had occupied herself in 
jotting down a list of duties which demanded 
attention the next morning. This she folded, 
and quietly handed to her husband, requesting 
him to make out a similar paper, that no mis¬ 
management might ensue. 
“The list is no longer than usual,” said the 
lady, smiling at the earnestness with which he 
surveyed it. “ I go through the performance 
every day. It is necessary, for they cannot be 
omitted. But don’t be frightened; you can 
take your own time.” 
Feigning the utmost indifference to the re¬ 
sults, he remarked that he should probably 
“ make quick work of it,” and placing the paper 
in his pocket, he returned to the office. 
The liege lord of Mrs. Crosby practiced law 
in a suburban town, and had acquired consider¬ 
able property by the same. His wife had in¬ 
dependence enough to do her own work, but 
could not help thinking that she deserved some 
credit for so doing. She had no particular de¬ 
sire to be praised, “justice is due,” was her 
motto; and our readers will perhaps coincide 
with her in the belief that it was rather hard to 
work busily a whole morning, and then be told 
“ that she had done nothing comparatively.”— 
It was not encouraging, to say the least, and 
she awaited the experiment of the next day 
with much interest. 
Morning came, and the Squire aroused his 
w r ife, and informed her in a significant tone, 
“ that it was quite time to dress and make a 
fire.” Mrs. Crosby did not wait for a second 
bidding, but remarked that he “ might put him¬ 
self in readiness to see about breakfast.” 
Our heroine had taken the precaution the 
night previous to prepare the kindlings, and in 
a short time had a brisk fire. She allowed her¬ 
self to do just what her husband had been in 
the habit of doing, and no more. He usually 
left the old coal and cinders for her to clear 
away, as well as the remnants of wood and 
shavings to pick up ; and she didn’t feel in¬ 
clined to limit his privileges at this time. The 
dining table stood in the middle of the room 
also, covered with books and papers, writing 
materials, and other articles used the night be¬ 
fore. These she did not molest, and without 
pulling up the shades, or putting back the 
chairs, she took up a newspaper and began to 
read. 
The Squire had evidently completed his toilet 
quicker than usual, but it was, nevertheless, 
nearly an hour before he made his appearance. 
It was something novel to see his wifo reading 
a newspaper before breakfast, and he could not 
help smiling to witness her perfect sang froid. 
“ I’ve been up a long time, and renewed tire 
fire twice, Mr. Crosby,” she remarked without 
looking up. 
This was the Squire’s favorite salutation 
when his wife happened to take an extra nap 
of five minutes. 
The gentleman made no reply, for he under¬ 
stood what the remark meant without the aid 
of an interpreter. He proceeded to business 
with great alacrity, piling the books and papers 
upon chairs, and nearly upsetting the inkstand 
in his haste. After spilling some oil, by carry¬ 
ing a lamp the wrong way, and allowing the 
kettle to boil over some five minutes before he 
got ready to take it off, he succeeded in getting 
the cloth laid, though in rather an awkward 
manner. 
“ I think I should relish a piece of beef steak, 
Mr. Crosby,” remarked the lady in the rocking 
chair. 
“Ah, then you shall have it,” replied the 
housekeeper of the day, patronizingly, as he 
busied himself with napkins, cups, saucers, 
plates, knives, forks, etc. He tried to recollect 
how Mrs. Crosby arranged them, but in spite of 
all his attempts, he couldn’t; he made no appli¬ 
cation to that lady for advice, however, and she 
apparently was absorbed in her reading. 
Adjourning to the kitchen, the Squire at¬ 
tended to the making of a delicious cup of coffee, 
and had a long struggle with a beef steak, 
which refused to broil to his satisfaction. When 
returning to the dining room, after a long ab¬ 
sence, looking heated and impatient, Mrs. Cros¬ 
by remarked, consulting her watch, “ that he 
had been absent long enough to make a beef¬ 
steak.” 
The observation the Squire remembered to 
have heard before, but did not make it appa¬ 
rent. At length the coffee and meat were 
brought in, and all things were pronounced 
ready by the officiating master of ceremonies. 
Mrs. Crosby seated herself, and began to 
carve ; the Squire took his place at the head of 
the table, and proceeded to pour out the coffee. 
“ The bread, Mr. Crosby,” suggested the lady. 
“ Bless me, I forgot it!” he exclaimed, drop¬ 
ping the coffee-pot, and then jumped up so 
hastily that he came near overturning the table. 
The bread was soon produced, cut in slices 
varying in thickness from a wafer to four inches. 
“ The butter, Mr. Crosby,” suggested his 
companion, when he was again fairly seated. 
“ I declare, what a poor memory 1 have got!” 
And setting down the cup which he had taken 
up for the second time, he started for the miss¬ 
ing article. Placing it in triumph beside his 
wife’s plate, he renewed his attempt at coffee 
pouring, and this time was successful; but it 
must be confessed that he eyed the dark look¬ 
ing beverage with some uncertainty as he 
passed it across the table. 
“ Muddy coffee again, Mr. Crosby I” abruptly 
said the lady. 
The Squire hadn’t a word of reply. 
“Very smoky beefsteak, my dear. What 
have you done to it ?” she continued, pushing 
a large piece of the obnoxious article on one side 
of her plate. “ You must be extremely careless, 
or such things couldn’t happen so often as they 
do.” 
“ What a woman this is to remember, to be 
sure ! Any body would suppose that she had. 
kept a diary of my unlucky observations for a 
year. Why, she has them all at her tongue’s 
end !” thought the individual addressed, though 
be didn’t see fit to make any immediate reply. 
The Squire had but little appetite ; his wife 
remarked the fact, and hoped that the simple 
“ exercise of getting breakfast ” had not taken 
it away, as one person, who should be nameless, 
was in the habit of asserting. 
The gentleman winced, and prepared himself 
a generous slice of bread and butter, which lie 
proceeded to dispose of as though he had Jacked 
food for weeks. 
When the morning meal was concluded, Mrs. 
Crosby donned her bonnet and shawl, and re¬ 
marking that she would send home the dinner, 
left the house. Our hero was now alone, and 
could carry on operations without an eyewitness; 
which he observed “was much pleasanter.” 
“ How we’ll consult the list,” he added aloud, 
“ and have things go on in regular order. Here 
gees: get breakfast, clear the table, wash the 
dishes, put closets in order, wipe the shelves 
down, clean knives, clean sink, rub silver, black 
st^ve, keep fire, attend to door bell, sweep hall, 
dust stairs; sweep parlor, dining-room and 
kitchen, dust furniture, trim lamps, do chamber 
work, wash meat for oven, clean vegetables, stew 
cranberries, make pudding, and entertain visi¬ 
tors, if they happen to call.” 
“Bless me, is that all!” cried our housekeeper. 
“ I call that making a great fuss about a little 
matter. It sounds larger than it really is. I 
think I’ll clear the table, to begin with, as that 
is put down next.” 
So at it he went, knocking things hither and 
thither, at great hazard of their demolishment. 
As the idea didn’t occur to him that he could 
carry a waiter .of articles at a time, he made a 
great many journeys between the dining-room 
and kitchen, which necessarily consumed con¬ 
siderable time. The dish-washing proved rather 
an awkward affair, and didn’t progress so rap¬ 
idly as he could have wished. He couldn’t 
wipe the cups handily, the saucers seemed 
bungling, and the plates would slip back into 
the water, but after breaking a cut glass tum¬ 
bler, (which he felt certain of matching the next 
day,) knocking off a platter, (which he resolved 
to paste together while dinner was cooking,) 
and cracking a pet dish of his wife’s, while set¬ 
ting up a pile of plates, the matter was brought 
to a close. The knife-cleaning was another 
thing altogether; there wouldn’t be any danger 
of breaking, and he could “ put ’em through ” 
quick. But the black spots were deeper set 
than he imagined, and required the exhibition 
of more “ elbow grease ” than he had any idea 
of. He contended longest with the carving 
knife, which, in consequence of being so awk¬ 
wardly handled inflicted i^deep cut, as a slight 
token of remembrance. This w T as a mistake 
that caused many other mistakes during the 
day, owing undoubtedly to the clumsy bandage 
which the Squire had wrapped about his hand. 
It may be well to remark, that the aforesaid 
list was laid carefully in a conspicuous position, 
and frequently referred to. He attended to the 
silver, and then glanced at the clock. The 
hands pointed to an hour which admonished 
that “ Time waited for no man,” and had no 
particular sympathy with inexperienced house¬ 
keepers. 
« What’s next on the docket, I wonder. Ah, 
stove to black. Well, I must admit that the 
coffee which boiled over, hasn’t improved its 
appearance much. I’ll look up the brush.” 
So saying, he prepared the polish and set 
about the operation at once. The stove was 
quite hot, and he couldn’t work to any advan¬ 
tage. The more liquid he put on, the more it 
would sputter about, and fly off with a crackling 
noise. He thickened the liquid, but it would 
not adhere to the stove, and he began to think 
it was bewitched. 
At this stage of affairs, he happened to recol¬ 
lect that somebody had said that milk was the 
best thing to wet the powder with, so he hast¬ 
ened to the pantry, and pouring out a quantity, 
applied it to the refractory stove. That didn’t 
mend the matter, and the smell of burned milk 
began to be quite disagreeable. The room was 
filled with smoke, the floor around the stove 
was ‘ dotted with blacking, and the Squire’s 
hands were certainly not the cleanest that ever 
was, when a violent ring of the bell resounded 
through the house, making our hero start as 
though he had been surprised in some dishonor¬ 
able act. 
He looked toward the door, then at his hands, 
and finally at a large stain on his shirt bosom, 
which bore a strong resemblance to blacking. 
“I won’t go ! they may ring all day if they 
like !” he exclaimed, impatiently, going to the 
wash basin and trying to bring his hands to 
their accustomed color; b it a second ring 
warned him that some person without was not 
inclined to “ give it up so.” 
“ Confound that tintinabuly ! I suppose it’s 
some old man after boots, clothes, grease or rags. 
If he does it again, I’ll bring a suit against him 
for assault and battery !” cried our incipient 
housekeeper, making a few desperate dashes at 
the dish-cloth, which he mistook for the towel, 
and hurrying toward the door, which he opened 
with a trembling hand. 
[ Concluded next week.] 
To be wise, and happy, and self-possesed, we 
must often be alone: we must mix as little as 
we can with Avhat is called society, and abstain 
rather more than seems desirable, even from the 
I better few. 
ill it anti 2)miuir. 
c.Fn«U£N«KacKR.i;<ii 
AN UGLY “FAUX PAS” (FORE PAW) TO BEAR. 
A WHITE MAN, 
A Washington letter writer tells the follow¬ 
ing, speaking of the presence of Philosopher 
Greely at the Federal Capitol: 
A trio of Irish servants were busy talking 
politics in the corner of the reading-room, (Irish 
servants are great politicians here,) when one of 
them suddenly exclaimed : 
“Be jabers, boys, an’ there’s ould Greely !” 
« Where ? ” exclaimed his companions, with 
as much interest in their looks as they would 
naturally exhibit on being told that St. Patrick 
or Bishop Hughes was before them. 
“Standin’ yon by the table talkin’ wid the 
tall gintleman.” 
The Hibernians gazed curiously and intense¬ 
ly at Horace for an instant, when the youngest 
of them, apparently a. late importation, with 
wonder in his voice, observed : 
“ Sure an’ he’s a white man !” 
“ Av course he’fi a white man,” said the first 
speaker in a patronizing tone, as though Horace 
and he were the gre atest of cronies. 
“Well, be my sowl, I’ve been decaved in the 
ould fellow intirely,” continued the other; “ I 
thought he was a nagur !” 
OUTRAGE UPON STRANGERS. 
A few nights since, says the Troy Budget, a 
well dressed man, apparently a stranger in that 
locality, sauntered into the watch-house and 
called for a glass of brandy. 
“ Don’t keep it here," remarked the rounds¬ 
man ; “ you will have to go to some place else 
if you want brandy.” 
The stranger walked toward the official, and, 
with a nod and a wink, gave him to understand 
that if he sold him some brandy, he need not 
fear from prosecution on account of the prohib¬ 
itory law. 
“ I tell you we don’t sell any brandy here !” 
reiterated the roundsman, in a vehement tone.' 
“ Don’t sell any brandy ? ” remarked the 
stranger, looking curiously around the room, 
and walking with an air of suspicion towards 
the door; don’t sell any brandy ! what do you 
want to keep open so late for, then /” 
Soon after, the indignant stranger left the 
watch-house for more congenial quarters. 
Repartee. —In the House of Representatives 
last week, Mr. Giddings, while delivering a 
speech, said that Mr. Richardson was like 
Baalam’s ass— he would not speak. 
“ It is true,” said Mr. Richardson, in reply, 
“I am somewhat like Baalam; when I am in 
presence of the gentleman from Ohio, I let the 
ass speak !” 
This; of course, occasioned much laughter.— 
Wash. Sentinel. 
Hot Dangerous. — A. friend of Cuvier’s once 
took the horns and hoofs of an ox, and ap¬ 
proached the bedside of the great naturalist, 
and awakening him from a sound sleep, an¬ 
nounced himself as the devil, who had come to 
eat him up. Cuvier rubbed his eyes, and 
glanced at the nondescript from horns to hoof, 
when he lay down, and quietly remarked : 
“ Horns, hoofs — gramnivorous — eat grass — 
can’t come it; go away.” 
An exchange paper asks very innocently if it 
is any harm for young ladies to sit in the lapse 
of ages. Another replies that it all depends on 
the kind of ages selected. Those from eighteen 
to twenty-five it puts down as extra hazardous. 
Haughty. —Prentice, it is useless to say, is 
responsible for the following naughty slip-of-the- 
tongue : — “ Our contemporary undertakes to 
discuss what he calls a ‘ knotty question.’ Can 
he untie anything knotty? Echo answers, not he.” 
“ Why, II mis, you have the most feminine cast 
of countenance I have ever seen.” 
« 0, yaw, I know the reason for dat—mine 
moder vas a roman.” 
The Dentists generally have acknowledged 
their business a gum one, inasmuch as they are 
using guttapercha to set their artificial teeth in. 
A late philosopher says that if anything will 
make a woman swear, it is looking for her night¬ 
cap when the light is blown out. 
In Brown’s Hotel, Washington, they have a 
room which is lighted only by the keyhole of 
another room. 
nuUj’s toim. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 26 letters. 
My 8, 14, 22, 25, 19 is a silver coin. 
My 3, 5, 25, 4, 18 is a kind of theatre. 
My 12, 9, 17, 23, 10 is a flowering shrub. 
My 21, 20, 9, 24, 25 is used for drawing water. 
My 7, 1, 2, 19 is a pledge. 
My 16, 6, 15, 4,18 is a man’s name. 
My 13, 26, 11, 25 is not false. 
My whole should be in the possession of ev¬ 
ery farmer. e. w. d. 
Hartford, Washington Co., Wis. 
Answer next week. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALGEBRAICAL PROBLEM. 
A miller mixes wheat flour, which costs him 
ten shillings per bushel, with barley flour, which 
costs four shillings per bushel, in such proportion 
as to gain 43% per cent., by selling the mixture 
at eleven shillings per bushel. Required the 
proportion. l. s. a. 
Almond, Allegany Co., N. Y. 
Answer next week. 
For Moore s Rural New-Yorker. 
PROBLEM. 
How large a cube may be inscribed in the 
planet Cures, its diameter being 163 miles? 
New Somerset, 0. E. S. E. 
JgjF’ Answer next week. 
MIND YOUR STOPS. 
There is not a lady in the land 
But has ten fingers on each hand 
Five and twenty on hands and feet 
And this is true without deceit. 
MEND THE EMPHASIS. 
“ And he said unto his servant, saddle me the 
Ass ; and they saddled him.” 
“ He takes young children in his arms. 
And in his bosom bears.” 
HOW -TO OVERCOME EVIL. 
Johnny Wilson sat on the stairway, crying as 
though his young heart would break. I took 
him on my lap, and told him to tell me why he 
was crying. 
“ Billy Johnson was just above me in the 
spelling class, and because I turned him down, 
he got angry. At noon I w'as flying my new 
kite on the plain; He came up, asking me to let 
him fly it. Thinking it would make us good 
friends, I let him, but on purpose he let it go 
into a tree, and tore it. I’ll be revenged, yes. 
I’ll be revenged !” 
“Do good for evil,” said I. 
“ I will try,” came sweetly from Johnny’s lips. 
That evening, as Johnny was engaged in a 
“famous" game of ball, Billy came up, and 
wished to play, but could not, as he was odd. 
“ Here, Billy, you can have my place,” said 
Johnny. 
Billy looked at Johnny a moment in silence, 
and then said, “ Johnny, I tore your kite ; I am 
sorry; mine is behind that tree, it is yours; and 
after this we shall be good friends.” 
That night, as Johnny knelt, and said, “For¬ 
give us our trespasses, as we forgive those that 
trespass against us,” he felt he had forgiven one 
who had trespassed against him. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma in Ho. 318 : 
Subscribe for Moore’s Rural Hew-Yorker. 
Answer to Algebraic Problem in Ho. 318:— 
x — 11 ; m = 5. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LEADING WEEKLY 
Agricultural, Literary and JFainily Newspaper, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY I>. I>. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Powt-Oftice. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Subscription —$2 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, and any additional number at the 
same rate, ($1,50 per copy.) As wo are obliged to pre-pay the 
American postage on papers sent to the British Provinces, our 
Canadian agents and friends miiBt add 12>£ cents per copy to 
the club rates of the Rural. 
1 3?" Subscription money, properly inclosed and registered, 
may be forwarded at our risk. 
•„* The postage on the Rural is but 3>^ cents per quarter, to 
any part of the State (except Monroe County, where it goes 
free,) and cents to any other section of the United States— 
payable quarterly in advance at the office where received. 
Advertising. —Brief and appropriate advertisements will be 
inserted at 25 cents a line, each Insertion, payable in advance. 
Our rule is to give no advertisement, unless very brief, more 
than four consecutive insertions. Patent Medicines, &c., will 
not be advertised in this paper at any price. 13'“ The circula¬ 
tion of the Rural New-Yorker is at least ten thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or similar journal in the 
World,—and from 20,000 to 30,000 larger than that of any other 
paper published in this State, out of New York city. 
S3J“‘ All communications, and business letters, should be ad¬ 
dressed to 1). D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N.Y. 
SPECIAL NOTICES. 
13TI jOCal Agents do not require any certificate, but can 
form clubs upon their own responsibility. Those who wish au¬ 
thority to act as Traveling Agents, must furnish the best of 
recommendations as to integrity, responsibility, &c., or good 
references in this city. References to persons at a distance are 
useless. 
J^yTnE lowest club price of the Rural New-Yorker is 
$1,50 per yearly copy, and any one remitting at a less rate will 
be credited in proportion to the money received. Those who 
send less than the price, with request to send the paper a speci¬ 
fied time or return the money, cannot be accommodated. 
In remitting $16, or more, please send draft on New 
York, Albany, Buffalo, or Rochester, (less cost o exchange,) or 
check or certificate of deposit on any Bank in either of said 
citios,— payable to our order. 
13^* Those who are forming large clubs can send on the 
names and money of such persons as do not wish to wait, and 
complete their lists afterwards. 
Agents will please make their first remittance as early 
as convenient. This will greatly facilitate the entry of names 
on our hooks. 
For $1 we will send one copy of the Rural, and either 
Putnam’s, Harper’s, the Knickerbocker, Lady’s Book or Gra¬ 
ham’s Magazine for one year. 
t3"AGENTS.—Any person so disposed can act as local agent 
for the Rural, and all who remit according to terms will be 
entitled to premiums, etc. 
. ;... . . . . . . . .. . . . ...*.... 
