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84 
MOORE’S EUEA1 NEW-YORKER! AN AGEICULTUEA1 AND FAMILY NEWSPAPEE. 
MAECH 8. 
flit! IflStttJ. 
THE SNOW MIRACLE. 
BY T. B. ALDRICH. 
The fairies are not dead— 
The fairies of our childhood, long ago 1 
There is an angel walking overhead 
When frosty eaves are hung with icy curls, 
And January shivers in the snow ! 
She speaks unto the North Wind, and her words— 
A miracle ! a miracle !—are pearls ! 
Lo ! how they flutter down, 
And fill each secret nook, 
The willow-hidden brook, 
And the house-tops of the town, 
And the chimneys as they look, 
With yawning mouths, to all 
The flakes, till in a pall 
Of white the earth is hid ! 
The pearls, the crispy pearls ! 
Lo I how they flutter down 
From the snowy angel’s lips ! 
Till the hemlock and the pines, 
And the ghastly poplar trees, 
Are like the shrouds and rigging of the ships ! 
Lo ! how they flutter down, 
So wondrously complete— 
So marvelously wrought— 
And in the stifled town, 
Each half-deserted street 
Is piled with her white thought! 
O, we are blind and weak— 
We daily yearn and seek 
For miracles like those long ago ; 
We moan and murmur still, 
As if this falling snow 
Were not a Miracle. 
[iV. Y. Tribune. 
ifs’0 Imams. 
A MARRI ED M AN’S EYE. 
“ There’s daggers in man’s eyes!” 
« Open the window Hetty,” said my nncle 
Andover, to the housemaid; “let in a little 
fresh air this fine morning !” 
Hetty threw up the sash quickly, and smash! 
went a pane of glass. The poor girl turned her 
frightened eye toward us, but my uncle went 
on talking as if he had not heard the noise. 
“Sir, Mr. Andover, please to look,” said Het¬ 
ty, “ I have broken a pane of glass, and Miss 
Andover will be so angry-!” 
“Angry—for what ? ' Here, take this money,” 
said he, “ and run off quickly for the glazier 
I will pick up the pieces while you are gone. 
Angry, indeed ! Miss Andover docs not get 
angry for such trifles; but be off before she 
comes, if you are afraid.” 
Dear uncle Andover!—he screened everybody 
from harm... All Camperdown knew the value 
of his friendship. - He was just turned of sixty, 
with a healthy, unbroken constitution, a fine 
flow of spirits, and an even temper. He was 
benevolent, and untiring in his disposition to 
do good ; and as all the world knew this, he 
was not suffered to remain idle a moment. All 
this, added to a large income, and a large heart, 
made him one of the most popular men in 
Camperdown. 
With all these qualifications, it was a wonder 
he never married, for he was a very handsome 
man, even at his advanced age. But he was a 
bachelor from choice, I assure you ; for many a 
lady, even now, would be glad to receive an 
offer from him. Strange as it may appear, it is 
nevertheless really true, my uncle was never in 
love—that is, violently in love, as I am at this 
moment —and therefore he never thought of 
marriage. 
“ My dear uncle,” said I, when the glaizer 
had gone, “ how has it happened that you never 
married ? You have always been rich, and 
from what I can now see, you must have been 
very handsome.” 
Here my uncle pulled up his collar, and set¬ 
tled his chin, casting his eye toward the glass. 
“ Why, as to that, Leo, I belieye I was toler¬ 
able well-looking in my youth, and I cannot 
but say I had many inducements to marry. My 
parents were very desirous that I should fall in 
love, and many a beauty was pointed out to me ; 
but I suppose I had no turn for the tender pas¬ 
sion. The fact is, Leo, that I loved every woman 
so well, that I was afraid of hurting the feelings 
of the Avhole sex, if I gave one the preference. 
This was not, however, the only reason, said he, 
after a pause. “ I had another and a stronger 
one. All my life I have been watching the 
behavior of men to their wives, and I never met 
with one man—no, not even your father, and he 
came ol a gentle kind—who did not scourge his 
wife the very moment she was in his power.— 
And, Leo, mark my words, you will do it, too. 
It is human nature ; it seems a thing not to be 
helped.” 
« Scourge their wives ! I scourge a woman ! 
— such a lovely creature as Flora Webb!” 
thought I. “But what do you mean by 
scourging?” 
“I mean what I say. Do you think there is 
only one kind of scourging ? I certainly do not 
mean beating, though many a fellow, if he dared, 
would strike his wife, or slap her face, if she 
only acted a little perversely, just as he had 
acted, perhaps, only the moment before; but the 
scourging I speak of, is with the eye ; aye, you 
may stare, but it is the Married Man's Eye .— 
Come, let us go the village; I owe everybody a 
visit, particularly Ormsby, who is just married 
to my little pet.” Every young woman, by the 
way, was uncle Andover’s pet. 
“ I cannot tell in which way she offends his 
married eye, but I will warrant that he has be¬ 
gun his scourging already. There is your aunt 
Phillida ; she sees this matter as I do, and that 
has kept her from marrying. Before we settled 
in Champerdown, she had plenty of offers, for 
rich women are scarce. The old Mr. Root 
offered his hand to her full thirty years ago.” 
Look over the way, uncle ; there stands the 
little red-haired Davison, the meanest looking 
man I ever saw. Is it true that he made an at¬ 
tempt to address my sister Fanny, while I was 
in Europe ?” 
“Yes, he made a desperate attempt, but he 
was repulsed with scorn. Do not speak of it 
before your aunt, for it puts her in a passion. I 
only wish we could keep him from coming so 
often to Camperdown, for lie is hateful to me, as 
well as to her ; and Mrs. Campbell—that is, our 
Jenny Hart that was — has set her face against 
him, and that has decided his fate here.” 
“What! is Mrs. Campbell the Jenny Hart of 
the thread-and-needle store ? she whom all the 
young men used to gaze at so ? the one that 
every one was in love with ?” 
“ Yes, and I will take you there to-morrow. 
She is on a visit to New York to-day. Your 
aunt told her about Davison ; and so, as I said, 
having set her face against him, he will not find 
it very convenient to settle in our neighborhood. 
Let him remain at Starkford.” 
“Why, uncle, I never knew you so bitter to¬ 
ward any one before. What has he done to 
merit all this ?” 
“ Well, Leo, we talked of scourging; of mar¬ 
ried men scourging their wives with the eye; 
but this man, for one that calls himself a man, is 
more brutal than a savage. Just look at him! 
a little paltry fellow, not bigger than my thumb; 
with red hair, a freckled face, a nose that you 
can hardly see, deep-set little' red eyes, an ear 
like a long oyster, and a neck like a crane.— 
There he goes ; and he has a laugh and a joke 
with every one he meets. There comes our 
good Mr. Foster, the engineer. Ah, Alfred Gray 
does not stop ; he touches his hat, and walks on. 
It has cowed Davison for a second ; but there 
comes Job Martine, the tax-gatherer ; now Da¬ 
vison has said a good thing, and they are laugh¬ 
ing at it. There comes our good Mr. Parsells, 
see how Davison’s hat goes off to him ; there 
was a bow for you !” 
“ Who is this Mr. Parsells, uncle ? I do not 
recollect ever hearing the name before.” 
“He is a retired merchant, aud has bought an 
estate at Wicklowe, in the next village. He is 
very rich, and little Davison fawns and cringes 
before him, like a spaniel. I see it all now ; 
there is an only daughter there, too. Miss Par¬ 
sells is not what I call an ugly wornau, but if it 
were not for her immense expectations, ugly as 
Davison is himself, he would look for more 
beauty. The fellow has been twice married.— 
Yes, there he goes ; he has left the others, and 
has walked off with good-natured Jemmy 
Parsells.” 
“ But, supposing that Miss Parsells is ugly ? 
Surely this man can have no pretensions to her 
hand ; he is upward of forty, by his looks.’ 
“ There is nothing better or worse to be said 
of him than that he scourged his wife to death. 
He married an only child ; I speak of his first 
wife, for the second one, poor thing !—no, lucky 
creature !—died of a pleurisy before he had time 
to commence operations. His first wife was a 
young lady of good birth, and, as was supposed 
at the time, of good fortune. She was an inti¬ 
mate school friend of your aunt Phillida, but 
their intercourse was interrupts after the mar¬ 
riage. Mr. Dell, the father ol Christiana, was 
reputed to be rich, and Davison so ingratiated 
himself with him, that, being a hypochondriac, 
and not a good business man, the fellow soon 
became his factotum. Everything fell into his 
hands ; and the short of it is, that he determined 
to have Mr. Dell’s money, and his daughter in 
the bargain, since he could not get one without 
the other.” 
« Ah, uncle, I recollect now ; did I not see a 
Mrs. Davison with aunt Phillida,at the springs, 
the summer before I went abroad ?” 
“ Yes, about four years ago, just before she 
died ; and it was there that I saw how the 
wretch treated her ; and yet no one else per¬ 
ceived it but your aunt and myself. Very few 
look deeply into such matters. Christiana was 
compelled into the marriage ; but your aunt 
thinks that if all the property had been settled 
on her, Davison would have treated her differ¬ 
ently. I doubt it. 
“ It is scarcely possible to tell you in what 
his deviltries consisted ; but they were of such 
a nature, that in ten years—it was a slow poison, 
that eye of his—he fairly worked this gentle 
creature out of existence. I only wish you 
dared ask your aunt aUjJibout it, for women 
understand this misery bejhir than men ; but it 
almost sets her rawiqpKur principal reason 
for quitting Starkford, was because he had 
bought an estate there. Before the wretch 
married poor Christiana Dell, he was the most 
devoted, the most obsequious, the most tender 
of lovers. He had to work hard to get the inno¬ 
cent creature, for her dislike to him at first 
amounted almost to aversion. He consulted her 
taste in everything, and seemed to have no will 
but hers. 
“Well, Leo, only look at this man one year 
after marriage, nay, one month, for he began 
immediately. He could not bear to hear her 
laugh ; he could not bear to see her pleased 
with any one’s conversation ; he sneered at her 
whenever she opened her lips—unobserved, 
mind, by others. By his hard manner, he drove 
off all her early associates, those who loved her 
dearly, and could have comforted her. His eye 
— that little red eye of his — was kept on her 
whenever she opened her lips to speak, or to 
give an opinion ; and it had the power of a ser¬ 
pent over her. There is no thraldom, Leo, like 
the thraldom of a married man’s eye. He ex¬ 
pected impossibilities, almost, from her, for her 
constitution was very delicate, and when she 
did the utmost her feeble strength allowed, he 
sneered at her. At table, lie never helped her 
to anything he thought she liked. She could 
not bear rare meat, neither could he ; yet I am 
told that in his own house he would not allow 
the cook to send the meat up well done, lest his 
wife might perchance get a piece that she liked. 
He actually punished himself, that he might 
scourge his unoffending wife. If, in the most 
humble way, when she thought he was particu¬ 
larly good humored, she asked him for a slice 
not quite so rare, he would say some brutal or 
unfeeling thing to her, for which the very negro 
in waiting would like to kick him. If he de¬ 
signed to help her to another piece, it was cut 
from a burnt, hard, part, equally unpalatable. 
She never ate a mouthful at that wretch’s 
table without insult or taunt. 
It was fortunate that this poor young crea¬ 
ture had no children ; for his nature was such 
that I verily believe he would have tormented 
them, for the pleasure of tormenting his wife. 
When she found that all happiness was denied 
her in this world, she turned her affection to 
another and a better. There she found peace 
and love—a love tender and enduring. She fell 
sick, at length ; and then you should have seen 
the hypocrite. Oh, how he -would run for the 
leeclier and bleeder — for the doctor and the 
clergyman ! You would have thought him the 
most devoted and tender of husbands. Almost 
every one, save the servants and our aunt 
Phillida, were deceived. Even the doctor called 
him a pattern-husband. 
“ How he must have shrunk from the touch 
of the good clergyman, on the day after the 
funeral! The reverend man dearly loved this 
pure and gentle wife ; and it went hard with 
him to part with her; but with all the confi¬ 
dence she reposed in him, she never breathed a 
syllable of her husband’s undeviating, petty 
tyranny. ‘Rest, therefore, in peace my son!’ 
said he, as he rose to leave the room, placing 
his hand on her cruel husband’s head, ‘ as she 
for whom we mourn, is now an angel in Heaven. 
You tenderly loved her ; you sustained her in 
sickness and sorrow, and you comforted her in 
the last trying moments. Your conscience 
must acquit you of the slightest intentional un¬ 
kindness, for you were all that a tender, con¬ 
siderate husband should be. Grieve not, there¬ 
fore, like one without hope ; but let us imitate 
the purity and integrity of her life, so that in 
the end your spirit may again be united to hers.’ 
“ Would .you believe it, Leo ! the hypocrite 
told all this to one of his friends! There he 
comes again. Only hear that laugh ! Just so 
he roared and ‘ made fun,’ when he was break¬ 
ing his wife’s heart at home. Jokes ! No one 
could have a dinner or supper party without 
him. He afterwards married Levinia Marks, 
on the strength of his goodness to his wife ; and 
I have no doubt the same thing will operate on 
the mind of Miss Parsells and her father. Poor 
Christiana Dell! But she is far happier where 
she is now, than she could be, even if Davison 
was not a brute. But come, let us sally out; it 
is visiting time, and we owe a great many visits, 
So, here we are ; this is Ormsby’s house. Now 
L<?n, look out for the man’s eye.” 
The newly-married couple were sitting to¬ 
gether very lovjngly, and every thing around 
them was bird-like and comfortable. They 
jumped up quickly to welcome us, for my uncle, 
as I said, was a general favorite. He praised 
every thing over and over again, even the ugly 
clock on the mantle-piece had his kind notice, 
“Yes, I knew you would like it,” said the 
lively little lady, “ but James does not think it 
suitable for this small room. It is rather large, 
to be sure ; but then bronze is so much more 
fashionable than gold. I am sorry now, since 
he dislikes it so much, that I did not take the 
gilt one ; but, Mr. Andover, how could I tell, 
then, that he preferred the gilt one ? Then, he 
thought as I thought, and as I uniformly pre¬ 
ferred the bronze clock, why he was only too 
happy to approve — were you not, James ! 
never heard, then, of his dislike to this poor 
clock ; but a month after marriage makes a 
great difference, you know, Mr. Andover.” 
While she was laughing out gaily, in the pride 
and joy of a young bride’s heart, Ormsby was 
trying to catch her eye. I saw that her prattle 
disconcerted him, and he wanted to stop her 
but she ran on, and my uncle listened with as 
much glee and innocence as herself. Ormsby 
walked across the room, so as to get in front 
of her, under pretence of pushing the clock 
straight.” 
“ I believe James is satisfied with all my 
purchases,” said she, “ but that foolish clock 
and if I could, I would change it- yet, for the 
gold one. Why, only a little before you came 
Her husband caught her eye this time, and 
his looks quelled her — lor her laugh and her 
joyousness were at an end. She was puzzled to 
know why her little nonsense was taken amiss 
now, when it was always pleasantly listened to 
before her marriage. This was evidently the 
first stroke of the married man’s eye. It em 
barrassed her; she cast a timid glance at her 
husband, and was silent. 
“ Did you see the fellow’s eye ?” asked my 
uncle, when on our way to the next house. 
“Now the poor child said nothing amiss; she 
was only a little bridish. Ormsby did not like 
the exposure. It showed he had struck the 
false colors of courtship, and had nailed up the 
red, stern flag to the mast-head. Men are all 
alike, Leo.” 
Our next visit was to Mr. Emerson, the 
chemist. He lived in the greatest harmony 
with his wife ; they had been married seven 
years, and had several fine children. The very 
moment we entered the house, he cast a fierce 
look at his better half. “My dear Jane,” said 
he, with a look and tone that badly accorded 
with the tender epithet, “ why do you shut out 
Mr. Andover’s dog ? Do open the door, and 
let him come in. Pray excuse her,” continued 
he, casting aside the marriage glance, and look¬ 
ing most kindly on us; “she has such an aver¬ 
sion to dogs, nay, such a foolish fear of them, 
that my poor Romeo has but a sorry time of it, 
for when my back is turned, he is banished to 
the kitchen.” 
“ Then why,” said my uncle mildly, “ do 
you keep a dog, if Mrs. Emerson is afraid ot 
them. I am very fond of cats, and I should 
have two or three Maltese and Angolas, if Phil¬ 
lida were not averse to it. She dislikes cats as 
much as your wife fears dogs, and in conse¬ 
quence I have banished them. Leo, ray son, 
step out and drive Brutus from the door ; he is 
scratching at it, and Mrs. Emerson must not be 
kept uneasy.” Emerson here cast another look. 
“What,” thought I, “ do all men change in 
this way after marriage ?” My ' uncle, as if 
divining my thoughts, nodded his head, but I 
shook mine. “ Never. Flora, shall this eye of 
mine look otherwise than tenderly on thee!” 
“ Did you see Emerson’s eye ?” said my uncle, 
when fairly on the pavement; “and yet he is a 
pleasant fellow. How well he talks, and how 
kind and considerate he is to everybody, poor 
and all. He is really a good man, and we could 
not get on well without him ; and I have no 
doubt that he is, in the main, an indulgent 
husband. Now he might as well give up his 
fancy for dogs, seeing that his wife dislikes 
them. I cannot for my life conceive why he 
persists in it. Leo, it gives a woman a very 
bad opinion of her sex, when she finds how 
different a lover and a husband are. I remem¬ 
ber the time when this very man, that lords it 
so with the eye, used to leave his dog at home 
when he went to Brighton to visit his sweet¬ 
heart. He was tender enough of her feelings, 
then. He gave up smoking, too, knowing that 
she disliked the smell of tobacco-smoke, yet the 
cigar is hardly ever out of his mouth now. Did 
you see what a sarcastic look she put on, when 
I said that I gave up cats to please your aunt ? 
The expression amounted to this : ‘Yes, bach¬ 
elor Andover, but there is all the difference in 
the world between giving up your whims to 
please your sister, and renouncing them to 
please your wife. If Phillida had been your 
wife, instead of your sister, the cats would have 
been paramount.’ And, indeed, my dear 
nephew, I am much afraid this would be the 
case. It is this fear that has kept me an old 
bachelor.” 
[ Concluded next week.] 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 16 letters. 
My 12,15, 4, 14, 10 is a cape on the east coast 
of South America. 
My 7, 10,11, 14, 6 Is a river in Utah Territory. 
My 3, 10,11, 15 is the name of a western State. 
My 14, 2, 16, 12, 2, 9, 9, 6,2 is a river in Tenn. 
My 3, 9, 8, 13, 2 is the name of a river in Mo. 
My 8, 16, 1, 2, 4, 12, 13, 16 is a town in the 
Kingdom of Soudan. 
My 5, 3, 3, 9, 6 is a lake in California. 
My whole is the name of a celebrated Gen¬ 
eral. j. G. w. 
Marengo, N. Y , 1856. 
Answer next week. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHARADE. 
My first for being neat and clean. 
In almost every house is seen ; 
And yet is often in the dirt. 
By all considered but a flirt. 
My second, dressed in lively green, 
And splendid silks, oft too is seen ; 
Yet heedeth not the wind and weather, 
But stands exposed for weeks together. 
My whole is planted—groweth tall, 
Its fruit is valued least of all ; 
And yet with truth it may be said, 
Is chiefly valued for its head. 
North Pitcher, N. Y., 1856. 
Answer next week. 
E. F. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
ALGEBRAICAL PROBLEM. 
A man sold a number of bushels of wheat; 
the square root of the whole number of bushels 
is equal to the price of two bushels. The units 
in the number of bushels, divided by the tens 
is equal to one-third the price of two bushels. 
Required—number of bushels, price per bushel, 
and amount received. 0. l. c. 
Portage, N. Y., 1856. 
Jggp Answer next week. 
it anti ©uim 
A BAFFLED ATTACK, 
Or, the Advantage of Wearing Hoops. 
THE EDITOR TOASTED. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION. 
Suppose the axletree of a windlass to be six 
inches in diameter, what must the diameter of 
the wheel be so that one pound applied to the 
wheel may balance 12 lbs. suspended from the 
axletree ? s. w. 
Mt. Clemens, Mich., 1856. 
pgp Answer next week. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ARITHMETICAL QUESTION. 
If 3 is one-third of 6, what will one-fourth of 
20 be. c. l. c. 
2^” Answer next week. 
At a Printer’s Festival at Boston a short time 
since, the following capital toast was drank : 
The Editor —The man who is expected to 
know everything, tell all he knows, and guess 
at the rest; to make oath to his own good char¬ 
acter, establish the reputation of his neighbors, 
and elect all candidates to office; to blow up 
everybody, suit everybody, and reform the 
world ; to live for the benefit of others, and have 
the epitaph on his tombstone, “ Here he lies his 
last;” in short, he is a locomotive running on the 
track of public notoriety ; his lever is his pen ; 
his boiler is filled with ink, his tender is his 
scissors, and his driving wheel is public opin¬ 
ion ; whenever he explodes it is caused by non¬ 
payment of subscription. 
A lady correspondent of the Boston Times, 
gives her ideas “ of perfect bliss” in the follow¬ 
ing paragraph :—“I’m a woman, with a wo¬ 
man’s weakness, and having a good constitu¬ 
tion, can bear a great deal of happiness ! If I 
was asked my idea of perfect bliss, I should 
say, a fast horse, a duck of a cutter, plenty of 
buffalo robes, a neat-fitting overcoat with a 
handsome man in it, and — one of Madame 
Walsh’s little French bonnets ! If that wouldn’t 
be happiness for one life-time, I’m open to con¬ 
viction as to what would !” 
Cool. —The Lafayette (Ind.) Journal pub¬ 
lishes the following frigid extract from a reply 
by a Boone county subscriber to a dunning let¬ 
ter ; —“ Sorry to say old Hoss that I can’t pay. 
I am very tight up, which is to say I haintnary 
red. Ef lard oil was ten cents a barrel, I 
couldn’t buy enough to grease my bar. Don’t 
worry about it, I freely forgive you the debt,” 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma-in No. 321 : 
Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her 
ways, and be wise. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem in No. 321: 
Whole length, 216 ft. ; 24 ft. in the mud, and 
180 ft. in the air. 
Answer to Geometrical Problem in No. 321 
Three rods and nearly two-tenths of a rod. 
We give the above answer as furnished us by 
the author, without vouching for its correctness. 
Two or three problems have been given hereto¬ 
fore, the answers of which turned out to be 
wrong ; and we would especially enforce upon 
all who send problems for the Rural, to verify 
their own work, as the multiplicity of duties 
crowded upon us precludes the possibility of 
our doing so.—E ds. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LEADING WEEKLY 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY I>. I> T. MOOICE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Exchange l’Ince, Opposite the Post-Office. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE : 
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Ifij" 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 6% cents to any other section of the United States—payable 
quarterly in advance at the office where received. 
An old Greenland seaman said he could really 
believe that crocodiles shed tears, for he had 
often seen “whales” blubber. 
Hezekiah says that if his landlady knew beans 
she wouldn’t buy the article called “ burnt and 
ground coffee.” 
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, Ac., will, 
not be advertised in this paper at any price. £j/“ 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. 
All communications, and business letters, should be ad¬ 
dressed to 1). D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
SPECIAL NOTICES. 
I3r” Local Agents do not require any certificate, but can 
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recommendations as to integrity, responsibility, &c., or good 
references in this city. References to persons at a distance are 
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The lowest club price of the Rural New-Yorker is $1,- 
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entitled to premiums, etc. 
.. ..* ... '* »«'*■ 
