....... .. .......... ... .;... ^ 
q, MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. MARCH 15. 
sics ||flstcy. 
THE GOLDEN HOLE. 
BY THE “PEASANT BARD.’’ 
Air, “ Green grow the rushes O." 
See’st thou -within thy brother’s eye 
The mote, when thine is full of stuff, 
Enough to take, and easy make 
Your Haman long and strong enough. 
The Golden Rule’s the rule of rules, 
But few there be who follow it; 
Have you it not ?—have you forgot ? 
Go buy, beg, or borrow it. 
Why take advantage of the weak 
And simple-minded Josey, 0 t 
Why him deceive, and make believe 
A cat-tail is a posey, 0. 
The Golden Rule, &c. 
Why hold the noses of the poor 
Hard down upon the grinding-stone ? 
Full many flaws have Fortune’s laws, 
And you may yet be finding one. 
The Golden Rule, &c, 
0, dweller in the house of glass I 
Why will you aye be throwing stone ? 
If one you crack should cast it back, 
I tell you what it is—you’re done. 
The Golden Rule, &c. 
We know the human craft is weak, 
The sport of Sootie’s bellows, Sir ; 
But let us see if we can’t be 
Confounded clever fellows, Sir 1 
The Golden Rule, &c. [IV. E. Farmer. 
iff *5 1C C 5 5 fl 115. 
A MARRI ED M AN’S EYE. 
“ There’s daggers in man’s eyes 1” 
[Concluded.] 
Our next visit was to Mr. Renshaw, a retired 
merchant. He had an excellent wife, and 
lovely children, all of whom were in good health, 
and well managed. He was so cheerful, and 
she seemed so much at her ease, that I cast my 
eye toward my uncle; but he shook his head. 
“ Wait awhile !” said he, in an undertone. 
“How finely the children grow !” said he to 
Mr. Renshaw. “ Let me see, your eldest must 
he twelve years old, now ?” 
“ I really do not know,” was the answer.— 
“ My dear, how old did you say Augustus was ? 
You told me this morning, but I really have 
forgotten already.” 
“ But if it had been an animal,” said his 
wife, laughingly, “ you would not' have forgot¬ 
ten. You always remember the age of your 
horse and your—” her husband gave her a 
look. 
We saw several glances of the married man’s 
eye, for the first did not seem to quell her suffi¬ 
ciently ; yet she said nothing to deserve them. 
“ A woman,” said my uncle, as we passed on to 
the next house, “never knows when she may 
banter or trifle. Sometimes her husband is in 
an easy mood, and then he will fall into the 
nonsense of the conversation ; for, after all, it is 
nothing but nonsense that one talks, in these 
morning visits. Here lives our good Dr. Field¬ 
ing; let us stop here.” 
“ Doctor,” said Mrs. Fielding, after we had 
chatted a little while, “show Mr. Andover little 
Mat’s head, and see whether he pronounces the 
lump a wen or a bruise.” Ah, such a look as 
she gotl It stopped her short at once. The 
doctor had no desire that his old friend should 
suppose him so ignorant in so simple a matter 
as wen or no wen. 
« I have no doubt,” said uncle Andover, when 
we left the house, “thatthe doctor was wonder¬ 
ing and wondering about this wen, just for talk’s 
sake, before we went in ; and so his wife, feel¬ 
ing anxious, and for the want of something bet¬ 
ter to say, blundered on the wen. Are you 
satisfied now, Leo?” asked the good old 
bachelor. 
Everything that wealth and taste could com¬ 
bine, was centered in and around the house of 
Mr. Frazer, a manufacturer in large business, 
and of great popularity. He was still in the 
prime of life, although he had a daughter mar¬ 
ried, whose first baby was now on its first visit 
to his house. Nothing, of course, was too good 
for the child and its mother, and Mrs. Renshaw 
reveled in unalloyed happiness. We admired 
and wondered at the child’s precocity and 
beauty, till even the mother was satisfied, and 
we were wondering what we should say next, 
when Mr. Frazer came in from his office. 
After hearing all our praises over again, and 
getting our opinion of his daughter’s looks, he 
cast a cross glance at his wife, and said, “ My 
dear, I came near breaking my neck over the 
child’s wagon in the entry ; how could you let 
it stand there ?” “ Oh, father," said the daugh¬ 
ter, “ it was my fault; it was I that left it there.” 
His face cleared up in an instant, for, as my 
uncle afterward observed, it makes a vast differ¬ 
ence whether the injury, or opposition, or vexa¬ 
tion, comes from a wife or a daughter. But with 
this branch of the question I have nothing to do 
at present. I am now only speaking of the 
married man’s eye. 
The next visit was to Mr. Graylove, the cler¬ 
gyman. I thought his wife could not be afraid 
of dogs, for there were no less than four lying 
about. Over one of them my uncle stumbled, 
as he entered the parlor ; but instead of apolo¬ 
gizing to him, Mr. Graylove cast a reproachful 
look at his poor wife. 
“I told Mrs. Graylove,” said he,with another 
glance, “ that if she persisted in driving old 
Carlo from the hearth-rug, he would take to the 
door-rug; and now she sees I was right.” 
“ Oh,never mind,” said my uncle mildly; “no 
harm is done ; only that Carlo has chosen a very 
inconvenient place of rest; for he must be con¬ 
tinually disturbed by the opening and shutting 
of the door.” 
“ Yes, but the door opens outward, as you 
see,” said Mrs. Graylove ; “ and people gener¬ 
ally see him, and so step over him, if he is too 
lazy to get up, as he was to-day. If I had my 
way, dogs should never come in the parlor; 
they are a perfect nuisance, and I tell Mr. 
Graylove—” 
The eye quelled her. “ What!” said I, “ is 
it always thus ? Is the married eye always 
ready to reproach ?” 
Our last visit was to a very aged couple, Tim¬ 
othy Winter and his wife. He was an old 
country gentleman, of eighty-six, affluent and 
respectable. On this day there were thirty-six 
children, grand-children, great grand-children, 
and two little twin boys, his great-great grand¬ 
children. It was their aged relative’s birth¬ 
day. “ Surely,” thought I, “ this man has 
scourged his eye out by this time.” 
“ Look out for his eye !” said my uncle. 
All seemed to hover about the old man, and 
I kept wondering why the same fuss was not 
kept up with the old lady, too. Very little 
notice was taken off her. There she sat, in a 
corner by herself, smiling and nodding, and 
looking so happy—poor old thing !—but to my 
eyes she did not seem to belong to the people 
around her. She was a delicate, lady-like 
looking womaij, with a mild expression, and of 
quiet manners; while the whole brood were 
needy, care-worn, sinister-looking people; 
rough and uneducated. Even the father, alt.ho’ 
of coarse exterior, had a cast of superiority.— 
We often see this in families, and there is no 
accounting for it. 
The only one that at all resembled the old 
lady, was the mother of the little twin boys, 
who died of a broken heart, from ill-usage. Her 
husband was a brute, and broke his neck in a 
horse-race, just one month after his wife’s death. 
The children were taken home to their paternal 
grand-mother, and this, as I have said, was their 
first visit. With that placid smile on her face, 
old Mrs. Winter was the only one in the group 
who felt a pang at the loss of the children’s 
mother ; and yet, living at a great distance from 
her, she had never been seen by the aged 
people. 
No one, as I observed, paid much attention 
to old Mrs. Winter; yet what had she not en¬ 
dured for them all! In some shape or other, 
her assistance, her feelings, were in constant 
requisition. To every one of the rough, un¬ 
gainly-looking people, she had more than acted 
a mother’s part; and yet they showed more re¬ 
spect to old Timothy, who had never volunta¬ 
rily, my uncle said, done them one kind act.— 
Young as I was, I had seen this before, in sev¬ 
eral families. The descendants make a greater 
ado with the old graud-father. 
“Stand aside, Sally dear,” said the aged 
woman. “ and let me have another look at the 
dear little boys. Alas for their poor dear mother! 
What are their names, did you say ?” “ Henry 
and George.” “Well, they are verv pretty 
names, but I wonder that one of them was not 
called Timothy.” 
Old Timothy had some such feeling in his 
own mind, for most old people have this passion 
of wishing their name to descend to their grand¬ 
children, let the name be ever so ugly. But if 
it was a mark of respect to give the child his 
name, so it was a mark of disrespect, or indiffer¬ 
ence, to neglect it. To make this neglect, appa¬ 
rent to others, was offensive to old Timothy ; so 
he cast his eye wrathfully toward his wife : 
“ Nonsense 1” said this old man of eighty-six. 
He meant that this look from his eye should 
have reached her, but it failed, for it fell on my 
uncle. Timothy was almost blind, yet he did 
his best. 
« And yet,” said uncle Andover, after we left 
the house, “ the old man was always thought to 
be a kind husband.” 
“ But why,” said I sorely puzzled, “ why is it 
that all hover around the old man ? I have ob¬ 
served it to be the case everywhere." 
“Why ?” said he ; “ why because men, to the 
last, hold the purse-strings, my son ; and be¬ 
cause all their children, grand, greal-grand, and 
great-great-grand children, down to such little 
ones as the twins we have just left, have seen 
the man’s eye quell their mother—the mother 
of all; she that suffered for them, that nursed 
them through many a desperate illness ; she 
that has toiled for them up to her eightieth year, 
and has for ever interceded for them, when the 
old man was churlish. The workings of that 
old man’s eye—of every man’s eye—has made 
her and all old women what they are, poor de¬ 
spised creatures ; so that to be called an “ old 
woman," is the most degrading epithet that can 
be applied. But their time is coming; their 
day is opening, Leo ; and those little twin 
brothers will not say “Nonsense!” and casta 
fierce glance at their wives, when they, tender¬ 
hearted to the last, are anxious that their hus¬ 
band’s name should be kept green and fresh in 
the minds of their descendants. Yes, my son, 
the moment a man marries, his eye begins to 
scourge his wife ; but many are now beginning 
to ask why this must be.” 
“ To be sure, my dear uncle,” said I, “ a man 
must often say and do foolish things, and often 
act contrary to his wife’s judgment. He must, 
therefore, be as liable to the fierce glance of the 
eye, as she is. The only wonderful thing about 
it is, that any man who tenderly loves bis wife, 
can let his eye fall on her as if she were his 
enemy.” “ No, Flora,” said I, “ never shall this 
eye reprove thine 1” Uncle Andover looked up 
and smiled. 
“Good-morning, Mrs. Tray ! How are you, 
and how do you like the railroad? They paid 
you well for cutting through your garden, didn’t 
they ?” 
“ Well, yes, thanks to you, bachelor Andover. 
I remember that, full forty years ago, you told 
me, then a young girl, and you but a few years 
older, that—. But may be you are one of those 
who do not like to speak of their age ; not that 
you are so very old, bachelor Andover.” 
“ I am turned of sixty, Mrs. Tray ; so do not 
fear that, you will hurt my feelings, by classing 
me among the old. How curious it is, Leo, that 
people have an aversion to be thought old, as if 
.age were disgraceful. Your good husband is 
looking well, too, Mrs. Tray. He smokes still, 
I see.” 
“ Yes, Peter is quite well, at present; but I 
was telling him, as you came along this way, 
that he had better come in doors and smoke, as 
sitting in the sun, with his head leaning against 
the cold brick wall, would bring on his old 
headache.” 
A fierce look from the old brute stopped her 
at once. He scourged her with the only eye 
he had. 
We both laughed heartily, when out of hear¬ 
ing. 
“ You see,” said my uncle, “ that it runs thro’ 
all ranks and degrees ; and if every one would 
keep a look out, as you and I have done to-day, 
the married man’s eye would be seen in every 
house. It is so common a thing, that it is never 
noticed. It is looked upon as part of the mar¬ 
riage ceremony, or rather as having been en¬ 
grafted upon a man, in consequence of the 
ceremony.” 
“Yes, I shall now be forever watching the 
married man’s eye ; but just for fun’s sake, if 
you are not too tired, let us go down into this 
oyster-cellar, and see what kind of an eye old 
Cato has. I hear the pan going; his wife is 
frying oysters.” 
“ His eye will work, too, depend upon it!” 
said my uncle, with a smile ; “he will quell her 
— he will quell her !” 
But no such thing. To our amazement, his 
eye never shot an angry glance at the poor, 
heated, tired woman, doing her best, as nine 
wives out of ten always do. My dear uncle was 
quite “put out” about it, for he was loth to 
admit that the rule did not hold good with all 
men. We stayed half an hour, seated on a clean 
bench near the door-way, chatting with the old 
man and woman, who, in the mean time, dis¬ 
pensed two panfuls of oysters, nicely fried, to 
their customers. 
My uncle, as I thought, made several efforts 
to provoke a shot from the eye of old Cato ; but 
it made no impression, I told him that I sus¬ 
pected he was playing false ; but he denied it., 
though he said if the glance could be obtained, 
it would not signify whether it was provoked 
or whether it came naturally. It was the prone¬ 
ness to make use of the eye—the authority of the 
married man’s eye—that he rebelled against. 
But no unlucky word or deed from old Dinah 
had any effect upon her husband’s dim, bleared 
eves. My uncle now “set in to talk,” first to 
Cato and then to Dinah, who was now prepar¬ 
ing a third pan of oysters. 
“ I will show you Cato’s eye yet I” said my 
uncle. 
“ I doubt it,” I replied. 
“ How many children have you, Cato ? I 
used to see four or five playing about you, a 
year of two ago, and now I only see the little 
girl who carried out the oysters.” 
“ We have nine, rnassa Andover, and all 
doing pretty well, ’ceptin’ Clarissy, who lost her 
good husband, poor ting ! So I told my Dinah 
to let her and de children come home. Dat 
little girl is her oldest girl.” 
“ This comes very hard upon you, Cato. I 
must tell my sister to look into it.” 
« Tanlcy, massa, tanky ; but it is not for me 
to complain; only Dinah, my poor woman, I tell 
her she will fry her eyes out. I have nothin’ 
to do but to sit still half de time and open 
oysters ; but tank God we have a great run, 
massa; and Dinah, nobody can please de cus¬ 
tomer so well as she, massa. Den, when I have 
taken out de shells, I does nothin’ but go about 
and ’muse myself in de garden, or lean over de 
wagons, and get tings cheap. But it comes 
very hard upon my poor woman here;” and 
Cato cast a tender, humane glance at his wife, 
who, having just finished her oysters, was turn¬ 
ing them into a plate. 
My uncle looked at me from the corner of his 
eye, to see if I had observed the old man’s. 
“ I saw it,” said I, “ It was a glance worth a 
guinea.” 
In a moment Dinah stood before us with a 
trav,on which were two plates, each containing 
six of the largest and finest oysters I ever saw. 
A little table was placed between us, on which 
were a snow-white cloth, bread, pickles, mus¬ 
tard, pepper and salt. 
She turned aside to look at Cato; but oh, 
what a delighted eye the affectionate husband 
cast on her ! He fairly rubbed his hands with 
joy at this mark of attention to us. 
“ Dat’s it, Dinah, dat.’s it; now why didn’t 1 
tink of dis, too ? But she is always beforehand 
wid me, massa bachelor Andover. I tink women 
are always ’cuter dan men in such things ; but 
when it comes to open oysters, den we beat ’em ! 
Yah! yah!” 
“Oh, never mind it, Dinah, woman,” said he, 
when the poor soul, in her haste to hand my 
uncle a glass of water, knocked over the mus¬ 
tard-cup. the contents of which ran on his boots; 
“never mind it, old woman ; massa don’t care, 
for I can soon polish him up again, and I’ll buy 
you another mustard-cup.” 
“ Here is a dollar toward it,” said my uncle. 
“ And here are two,” said I, “ for not casting 
an angry look at your wife, when she knocked 
the cup over.” 
f “He look mad at me !” said honest Dinah.— 
« Lacky!—why, young massa, Cato never looked 
mad at me once in his life,as I can remember.” 
“ Well, who would have thought it ?” said my 
uncle, as we left the cellar. “I must own that 
I tried hard, at the first going off, to provoke his 
ZZZ* “ ed duty ' look- f a ut f ®o tn n. 
Little Davison came smirking along, with _____ 
Miss Parsells hanging on his arm ; when just as Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
they approached us, her bonnet caught in the miscellaneous enigma, 
straggling branch of a wild-plum tree, which - 
stood in a little group of trees near the edge of I am composed of 27 letters. 
the commons. The ribbon gave way, and the My 22, 23, 12, 27, 17 signifies frequently. 
bonnet was jerked from her head. Oh, how My 16, 20,24, 21 is a girl’s name. 
assiduous the fellow was in extricating it from My 1, 13, 11, 10, 14, 5, 27 is cultivated to a great 
the branch ! How devotedly he pinned the extent in France. 
ribbon fast, and how tenderly he tied the bon- My 11, 26, 9, 25, 19, 13, 12, 27, 5, 11, 6 we con- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 27 letters. 
net on again ! Then he laughed so good hu- sider we all are. 
moredly at the joke, and at her embarrassment. My 15, 18, 9, 10, 27, 2 is a valuable metal, 
and he drew her arm in his so gently, as they My 16, 1, 3, 20, 8, 9, 22, 19, 3 is a part of Gram- 
moved away! mar. 
“ He is engaged to her—he has her !” said My 7, 4, 9, 20, 8, 26 is the name of a fish. 
my uncle ; “ but remember this scene, Leo, and My whole is what 
mark his behavior a twelvemonth hence. Here JtsF" Answer next 1 
comes our little beauty.” - 
It was indeed my dear Flora, blooming with ^ utUn for 111 
i* t r , PHOBLEM 
goodness, health, and loveliness. I forgot little 
Davison—I forgot the whole world—as I sprang My sister’s ye; 
to her side. As forty-six to 
“She is beautiful and happy,” said uncle And if you mu 
Andover, as I told him of my engagement, The product’s 
which I did as soon as we left the dear girl at 
„ , „ . , , „ . , Show thou our 
Oak Valley; “ but put off your marriage as long 
as you can. Ah! if you had told me of your " , y ^ 
love for her, I should have tried to persuade ° 101 . 
you to let her alone. She is too good, too inno- Eag]e> Wyom - ng Co > N 
cent, for the married eye.” ___ . 
’ J Answer next 
« What! do you think that my eye will ever _ 
try to quell that bright, beaming glance of lieis? Answer to Geograj 
“Yes, Leo, that it will. Old Cato has the George Washington. 
My whole is what you are all desired to do. 
STS?" Answer next week. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
PROBLEM FOR THE BOYS. 
My sister’s years are just to mine 
As forty-six to sixty-nine. 
And if you multiply them o’er. 
The product’s six times sixty-four. 
Show thou our ages unto me 
And I thy wedded wife will be ; 
All other proffers are in vain, 
No other shall that favor gain. 
Eagle, Wyoming Co., N. Y. J. V. D. 
ffiT" Answer next week. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma in No. 322 : 
only eye that does not carry a savage authority 
in it!” 
Answer to Charade in No. 322:—Broom-Corn. 
1 • . Answer to Philosophical Question in No. 322: 
Well, the short of the story is, that after a ^ j nc p eg 
little coaxing, my dear aunt and uncle consented 
to our marriage ; and it so happened that a few 
months after, as I was walking one fine after¬ 
noon with my lovely companion on my arm, and 
Answer to Arithmetical Question in No. 322: 
7/e- 
Answer to Algebraical Problem in No. 322 : 
n witn my lovely companion on my arm, anu - 
uncle at her side-for he became very fond 36 bushels ; $3 per bushel; $108. 
ler—we saw Davison and his wife, late Miss ~ j 
rsells, in the very walk were we had en- UUfrilSClllCltl'u 
of her—we saw Davison and his wife, late Miss 
Parsells, in the very walk were we had en¬ 
countered them before. Instead of her bonnet 
it was his hat that was knocked off by the 
branch, I dare say the same branch, of the wild 
plum. But the tone was altered now. 
A BANK BOOK, 
EXPRESSLY ADAPTED FOR 
FARMERS & COUNTRY GENTLEMEN, 
„ -vr , , _,i •_„ „ • j v. „ Is certainly a desideratum in these days, when the inhabitants 
IOU WOllld come this Way, said he, looking oP the Rural Districts hold so large a share of the Nation’s 
finvnnU ot ric ifn no Ino ronlnoorl liia lint nn wealth Banks are known to be important institutions, and 
fieicely at Ins wite, as he lepiacect his hat on absorb tbe attentinn of the pub i ic not i e ‘ ss than the Public Funds. 
his head - “vou are always doing something The States are favored witn all kinds —State Banks, Independent 
1 J J ~ Banks, Free Banks, Stock Banks, etc .—and last, but not least, the 
or other to make me look ridiculous. Your Union is favored with 
own foolish hat was dragged from your own “. MK * SPE )P KE !*” IIAXKS - 
But of more importance than either are the 
foolish head in this very spot, free soil banks, 
“Do VOU hear ?” said my uncle. which every resident of the country should know how to manage 
J ' and mould into beautiful and attractive, and therefore profitable 
“ J do,” Said I. forms. Before the deposits of frost have been withdrawn trom 
i on the clay, sand and gravel banks, fine opportunity is afforded for 
“Did yOll See the look he gave tier i a careful study of the subject, therefore buy and read 
“ To be sure I did ; and how meekly she bore practical landscape gardening, 
, j by g. m. kern, 
it- Containing 22 Illustrations and plans for laying out Grounds, 
“Flora, mv love, how you swing about!” with full directions for lUanting^Shade Trees* Shhtbbery, 
said I, not thinking that it W'as my attention to Third Edition, l voi. i2mo. Price $1,50. 
, , , . . , Mr. Kern has produced the right book at the right moment.— 
Davison s manoeuvres that prevented her from Putnam's Magazine. 
, . ,, „ t, i, ,1 i His suggestions are in an eminent degree valuable, and his 
keeping the pat h. Don t gaze on those people opinions, (which are expressed in clear, concise and lucid dic- 
T o-istino- the married eve on noor tion,i easily interpreted by even the most limited conception, 
SO, SiXltl x, casting UII ra<tirieu eye on poor f air i y Bssert his claim to a station in the foremost rank of rural 
Flora, W'ho was only following my example. My improvers.—A'. Y. Horticulturist. 
’ J ~ * “ It abounds in useful and tasteful suggestions and m practical 
uncle was a little in advance of us, and turned instructions .—Northern Farmer. 
‘ It is a very timely and valuable book * * better adapted 
llis head 111 tune to catcil tnc look. to the wants and circumstances of our people than any other up- 
,. .. , ,, -jiii on the subject .—Ohio Cultivator. 
his head in time to catch the look. 
“ Leo, write this all down,” said bachelor 
Andover, “for the good of the female sex.” 
“I will,” said I, looking abashed; “Flora, 
dearest! forgive me !” 
BUCHANAN ON GRAPE CULTURE, 
“I will," said I, looking abashed; “Flora, long worth on the strawberry. 
i fm-mvo ms I" Sixth Edition, Revised. 1 Vol. 12mo. Cloth, 63 cents. 
QCaiCSb . iuigive nit; i We cannot to strongly recommend this little volume to the 
i. i — ii . attention of all who have a vine or a strawberry bed .—Farm 
" ami Shop. 
C&\W * V V QHl This book embodies the essential principles necessary to bo 
4 II t P irmiW observed in the successful management of these fruits .—Boston 
-V- + We have oil two or three occasions said of this little book, 
that it is the best we have ever seen on the subjects of which it 
.— - treats. A mail with ordinary judgment cannot fail in Grape or 
Strawberry culture, if he tries to follow its advice .—Ohio Far. 
DISCONCERTING AN ORATOR. MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS & CO., 
_ Publishers, Cincinnati. 
_ . . . . , . . ,, For sale by Booksellers in Boston, New York and Philadel- 
It IS ail astonishing thing llOW little a matter phia, and the principal cities and towns, and will be sent by 
will sometimes disconcert, a man who is accus- ™aii for price remitted .-msteov^ 
, , , • , 1 - j V V- ROCHESTER SEED STORE, No. 4 Fogg’s Agricultural 
tomed to speak in public, anti lO liaie Ins Building, Buffalo street, Rochester, N. Y. All kinds of Garden 
tli«nirVito oknnf liim nnrl re-idv at command on Seeds, supplied to merchants, on commission. Cloverand Tim- 
tliougnts aoou t mm, ana ieaay at commanu on othy Seed American i mp0 rtcd Seeds, wholesale and re- 
DISCONCERTIN G AN ORATOR. 
othy Seed. Amerii 
almost all occasions. lail Apple Seeds [319-oow-tfJ JAS. 1*. FOGG. 
“I was once opening a speech from the MR. «fc mrs. sam’l l. fuller will receive into 
\ . ° ‘ . their family, and educate with their daughters, ten pupils. The 
Stump,” Said a distinguished Western political course of instruction to include English, French, Music and 
1 _ . . , , Drawing. Their residence is upon a large farm miles from 
Orator to US recently, “and was just beginning a nd in view of Geneva, and the same distance from Waterloo 
to warm with my subject, when a remarkably Ji^owi'^’tbikiand^Farm, Rose uni, b. A q!, Scncca^o^Nv’y. 
JAS. P. FOGG. 
clear and deliberate voice spoke out behind me 
saying: | MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
* Guess he wouldu t talk quite so liifalutina- the leadixg weekly 
tin’ if he knew that his trowsers was burst clean agricultural, literary and family journal, 
. i -i • i ii IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
out Demna . BY j> T . moore, Rochester, n. y. 
From that moment I couldn’t‘get on. The - 
people in front began to laugh, and there was a offlcc ’ Exchange i>i„c, Opposite the Post-Office. 
loud roar in my rear, and I dared not reverse terms, in advance : 
„ . ci- i ■ Subscription —$2 a year—$1 for six months. To Clubs and 
my position from fear of having a new audience A ls as foUows :_Three Copies one year, for $5 ; Six Copies 
THE LEADING WEEKLY 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY D. D T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Post-Offiee. 
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 
of my Condition. I made, or rather invented, (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) for$10 ; Ten Copies 
an excuse for delay, and sat down. The mali- < ft “ d one t0 A s ent -> for $ 15 ’ a » d a,, y * dditi ° n ai number at the 
_ , . , . , . same rate, ($1,50 per copy.) As wc are obliged to pre-pay the 
ClOUS Scoundrel . continued the OiatO), It vas Amer j can postage on papers sent to the British Provinces, our 
only a mean trick, after all, There was nothing Canadian agents and friends must add 12>£ cents per copy to 
Going Pretty Fast.- 
under heaven the matter with my unmention- of the Rural. * 
J Subscription money, properly inclosed and registered, 
ables 1” may be forwarded at our risk. 
*-- * # * The postage on the Rural is but cents per quarter, to 
Going Pretty Fast.—A n old man and his any part of the State (except Monroe County, where it goes free,) 
. . aud 6% cents to any other section of the United States-payable 
SOU, neither of them very well lntoi meet as to quarterly ill advance at the oflice where received. 
the railroads and their uses, chanced one day to r-: , , , .... 
J Advertising.—B rief and appropriate advertisements will be 
be at work in a field near a railroad track. inserted at 25 cents a line, each insertion, payable in advance. 
Railroads were a novel “institution” to them; Our rule is to give no advertisement, unless very brief, more 
, , 1 . 1 . *i -i . than four consecutive insertions. Patent Medicines, he., will 
and when a train of cars shot by, a thought was ‘ Qt ^ advertised in this paper at any price . ,. v -The circuia 
suggested to the lad, who said to his parent :— tion of the Rural New-Yorker is at least ten thousand greater 
“Dad why don’t ye take a ride in the cars than that of any other Agricultural or similar journal in the 
some day ?” “ 1 ake a ride in the cars ? VV by, paper published in this State , out of New York city. 
I liain’t got time, my son.” “ Got time ! Gra- 83*“ All communications, and business letters, should be ad- 
cious ! Ye can go anywhere in the cars quick- dressed to d. d. t. moor e, Roches ter, N. y. 
er than ye can stay at home 1” Dad’s reply is special notices. 
, , VjA" Local Agents do not require any certificate, but can 
not On 1 CCOl a. f orm clubs upon their own responsibility. Those who wish au- 
-- thority to act as Traveling Agents, must furnish the best of 
A Gross Libel.-/* is a singular fact that a recommendations as to integrity, responsibility, Ac, or good 
a , •' references in this city. References to persons at a distance arc 
woman cannot look from a precipice of any mag- useless 
nitude, without becoming instantly dizzy. But, The lowest club price of the Rural New-Yorker is $1,- 
What is Still more singular, the dizziness de- 50 per yearly copy and any one remitting at a less raWwill be 
V t 6 ’ credited in proportion to the money received. Those who send 
parts the very moment “somebody” puts his less than the mice, with request *o send the paper a specified 
arm around her waist to “ keep her from falling.” time or return the money, cannot be accommodated. 
In remitting $15, or more, please send draft on New 
‘ York, Albany, Buffalo, or Rochester, (less cost of exchange,) or 
To Cure poverty — sit down and growl about Check or certificate of deposit on any Bank in either oi said 
it Bv so doing, von’ll be sure to get rich and cities,-payable to our order. 
it. x>y su rug, 5 Agents.— Any person so disposed can act as local agent 
make yourself particularly agreeable to every- forlbe k ural , an d ail who remit according to terms will he 
body. entitled to premiums, etc. 
‘OMj’u'WW'irti'a'irt 
.ow-iiM.Mi/ri/’i.n./'i/’i, 
