MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
MARCH 29. 
I WOULD BE THINE! 
[This beautiful poem seems the expression of that true 
love which is the crown and happiness of womanhood, 
and which lifts him upon whom it is bestowed above life’s 
petty pursuits, and ennobles his whole being. With such 
a wife, and the heart to appreciate her priceless value, a 
man’s life will rise to true manhood, whatever may be his 
earthly lot.] 
I would be thine I 
Ah ! not to learn the anguish 
Of being first a deity enshrined, 
Then, when the fever fit is passed, to languish 
Stripped of each grace that fancy round me twined, 
Not such the lot I crave. 
I would be thine! 
Not in bright summer weather, 
A sunny atmosphere to breathe ; 
But fear and tremble when the storm clouds gather, 
And shrink life’s unrelenting frown beneath 
Failing, when needed most. 
I would be thine I 
To lose all selfish feeling 
Iu the sole thought of the far dearer one— 
To study every look thy will revealing, 
To make thy voice’s ever varying tone 
The music of my heart. 
I would be thine ! 
When sickness doth oppress thee, 
With love’s unwearied vigilance to watch ; 
Waking, to soothe, to comfort, to caress thee— 
Sleeping, to list in dread, each sound to catch, 
Thy slumbers that might break. 
I would be thine ! 
When vexed by worldly crosses, 
To cheer thee with affection’s constant care, 
To stay thee, ’neath thy burden or thy losses— 
By showing thee how deeply thou art dear, 
Most so in thy distress. 
I would be thine! 
Gently and unreplying, 
To bear with thee when chafed and spirit worn 
The hasty word, the quick reproach denying ; 
But by the soft submission which is born 
Of steadfast love alone. 
I would be thine ! 
My world in thee to centre, 
With all its hopes, cares, fears, and loving thought, 
No wish beyond the home where thou should’st enter 
Ever anew to find thy presence brought 
My life’s best joy. 
I would be thine! 
Not passion’s wild emotion 
To show thee, fitful as the changing wind, 
But with a still, deep, fervent life,—devotion, 
To be to thee the help-meet God designed— 
For this would I be thine ! 
THREE WIVES. 
I have, besides my town residence in Cecil 
street,—which is confined to a suit of two apart¬ 
ments on the second-floor,— a very pleasant 
country-house belonging to a friend of mine in 
Devonshire. This latter is my favorite seat, 
and the abode which I prefer to call my home. 
I like it well when its encircling glens are loud 
with rooks, and their great nests are being set 
up high in the rocking branches ; I like it when 
the butterflies, those courtly ushers of the sum¬ 
mer, are doing their noiseless mission in its 
southern garden, or on the shaven lawn before 
its front; I like it when its balustraded roof 
looks down upon a sea of golden corn and 
islands of green orchards flushed with fruit; 
but most it pleases me when logs are roaring in 
its mighty chimneys, and Christmas time is 
come. Six abreast the witches might ride up 
them, let their broomsticks prance and curvet 
as they would. If you entered the hall by the 
great doors while Robert Chetwood and myself 
were at our game of billards at its further end, 
you coukl not recognize our features. The gal¬ 
leries are studies of perspective,^tnd the bare, 
shining staircase as broad as carriage ways.— 
The library, set round from the thick carpet to 
the sculptured ceiling with ancient books, with 
brazen clasps, and old world types, and worm- 
drillcd bindings. The chapel, with its blazoned 
saints on the dim windows, and the mighty 
corridors with floors of oak and sides of tapestry, 
are pictures of the past, and teach whole chap¬ 
ters of the book of history; Red Rose and White 
Rose, Cavalier and Round-head, Papist and 
Protestant, Orangeman and Jacobite, have each 
had their day in Old Tremadyn House. 
One great Tremadyn dynasty has passed 
away. Robert Chetwood, late banker in the 
city of London, not so long ago banker’s clerk, 
now reignetli in their stead. The Tremadyns 
came in at the time of the seige of Jericho, or 
thereabouts, and the Chetwoods about ten years 
before the seige of Sebastopol; but there the 
advantage ceases. There is no man kinder to 
the poor, no man more courteous to all men, no 
man, whatever his quarterings, in all Devon¬ 
shire with a better heart than Robert Chetwood. 
Tremadyn House is open to the county, as it 
ever was, and his old London friends are not 
forgotten. A hale and hearty gentleman indeed 
he is, but he has had many troubles. He is as 
happy as any man bereaved of children can be, 
and it was the loss of them that made him buy 
the house and give up his old haunts and busy 
way — 
“ He saw the nursery windows wide open to the air, 
But the faces of the children they were no longer there;” 
and that, v'herever it may be, is too sad a sight 
to look upon. 
But what a wife the old man had ; to make 
up, as it seemed even to me, for all! I say to 
me, for one of those lost children, a maiden of 
seventeen, was my betrothed bride—the gent¬ 
lest and most gracious creature eyes ever looked 
upon. I think if I could write my thoughts of 
her, I should move those to tears who never 
saw her face, when they read “ Gertrude died.” 
She gave herself to me ; the old man never 
could have given her. I say no more. 
This is why Tremadyn House has become to 
me a home. It pleases Robert Chetwood to 
have his friend’s son with him, above all, be¬ 
cause he was his daughter’s plighted husband, 
and my father’s friend is trebly dear to me as 
Gertrude’s father. When the Christmas party 
has dispersed, and the great house is quite 
emptied of its score of guests, I still remain 
with the old couple over the new year. They 
call me son, as though I was their son, and I 
call them my parents. If Heaven had willed it 
so, dear Gertrude and myself could not have 
hoped for greater wedded happiness, more love 
between us, than is between those two. “ Per¬ 
haps,” he says, with a smile I never saw a 
young man wear, “ perhaps it is that my old 
eyes are getting dim and untrustworthy, but 
Charlotte seems to me the dearest and most 
pleasant-looking dame in all the world.” And 
his wife makes answer that her sight also is just 
as little to be depended on. To each of them 
has come the silver hair, and the reverence with 
it that alone makes it beautiful; and if their 
steps are slower than in youth, it is not because 
their hearts are heavier; they are indeed of 
those, so rare ones, who make us in love with 
life down even to its close. They always seem¬ 
ed to me as having climbed the hill together 
their whole lives long, and never was I more 
astonished than upon this new year’s eve, when 
Mrs. Chetwood being with us two in after- 
dinner talk, as custom was when all her guests 
were gone, her husband told his history. * 
He had always talked quite openly to me — 
“A pair of friends, though I was young, 
And Robert seventy-two 
and then, at the end of another year of love and 
confidence, I could not resist inquiring of them 
how long they two had been one. 
“Well, on my word, George,” said the dear 
old lady, “ you should be more discreet than to 
ask such questions.” 
But her husband answered readily ; 
“ This thirty years. I’ve been a married man 
myself this half a century.” 
“ Why, you don’t mean to say-” said I. 
“ Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “ Of course I do, 
Charlotte has been my wife too long, I hope, to 
be jealous now of either Kate or Mary ; but I 
love them each in turn, almost as dearly as I 
love her. Charlotte,” he added, turning towards 
her as she sat in the great arm-chair,” you don’t 
mind George being told about my other two 
wives, do you ?” 
“ I don’t mind your talking of Mary much,” 
she answered, “but get over that young Kate’s 
story as quickly as you can, please.” 
And I really thought I detected a blush come 
over her dear old face while she was speaking. 
“ It is rather less than half a century ago,” 
he began, “ since I first set foot in this beauti¬ 
ful Devon country. I came down on a short 
holiday from London, in the summer time, to 
fish, and I brought with me, besides my rod 
and musket, a portmanteau full of clothes, and 
about twenty-five pounds in gold, which was 
the whole amount of my savings. I was junior 
clerk in a house at that day, with one hundred 
and twenty pounds a year, and with as much 
chance of becoming a partner as you, my dear 
briefless Charles, have of sitting on the woolsack. 
From the top of Tremadyn House I could point 
you out the farm-house where I lodged, and 
will some day take you to see it—a mighty 
homestead, with a hugh portico of stone and 
flights of stone steps leading to the upper 
chambers from without. On one side was the 
farm-yard, filled with swine and poultry, with 
open stalls for cattle; and enormous barns, not 
so well kept or neat, perhaps, as the present 
day requires, but a perfect picture of plenty ; 
on the other stood the cider-presses, and beyond, 
the .apple orchards, white with promise, red 
with fruit, made the air faint with fragrance ; 
half orchard was the garden, too, in fruit, 
through which, beneath a rustic bridge, my trout 
stream wandered—have I not painted it ?” 
“You have, Robert,” she said. The tears 
were in her eyes, ready to fall, I saw. 
“ There, then, I met Kate. The good man of 
the house was childless, and she, his cousin, was 
as well cared for as his child. It was no wonder, 
George ; the dark oak parlor seemed to need no 
light when she shone within it. Like a sun¬ 
beam gliding over common places, whatever 
household matters busied her she graced. Some 
sweet art seemed to lie in her, superior to mere 
neatness', as high-heartedness excellcth pride. 
I put on salmon flics to catch trout. I often 
fished without any hook at all. 1 strove to 
image her fair face and form in the clear waters, 
by the side of that hapless similitude of myself 
the reflex of a forlorn youth in his first love. I 
did my best at haymaking to please her. I took 
eternal lessons in the art of making Devon 
cheese. I got at last so far as to kiss her hand. 
I drew a little, and she sat to me for her por¬ 
trait. We sallied out a mushrooming and get¬ 
ting wild flowers, and on our way sang pleasant 
songs together, and interchanged our little 
stores of reading. On the eve before my long 
put off departure, we were thus roaming ; we 
had to cross a hundred stiles — the choicest 
blessings of this country, I used to think them 
—and once, instead of offering my hand to help 
her over, I held out both my arms, and, upon 
my life, George, the dear girl jumped right into 
them ; and that was how I got to kiss her check.” 
“What shocking stories you are telling, Rob¬ 
ert,” said Mrs. Chetwood, and certainly she was 
then blushing up under her lace cap to her 
white hair. 
“Well, my dear, nobody was there except 
Kate and myself, and I think I must know 
what happened, at least as well as you do ; so,” 
he continued, « after one more visit to the farm¬ 
house, Kate and I were married. She gave up 
all her healthy ways and country pleasures to 
come and live with me in the busy town; studi¬ 
ous of others’ happiness, careful for others’ pain ; 
at all times forgetful of herself; active and dili¬ 
gent, she had ever leisure for a pleasant word 
and a kind action ; and for beauty, no maid nor 
wife in the world was fit, I believe, to compare 
with her. To you, George, who knew and 
loved our dearest Gertrude, I need not describe 
her mother. She was not long with me, but it 
soon seemed as if it must hare cost my life to 
have parted with her; yet the girlish glory 
faded, and the sparkling spirit fled, and the day 
has been forgiven, though forgotten never, 
which took my darling Kate from my side.” 
The old man paused a little here. Mrs. Chet¬ 
wood kissed him softly upon the cheek. 
“My second wife,” he resumed, “was not so 
young, and certainly had not the outward 
graces of my first. She was beautiful, too, in 
the flower, as Kate was in the bud. Her face 
had not the vivacity, nor her eyes the dancing 
light of Katie’s, but there sat such a serenity 
upon her features, as we sometimes see upon a 
lovely landscape when the sun is near its set¬ 
ting , a look which no man ever tires of; and 
Mary bore me children, and then, much as I 
loved the sapling, it seemed to me that the full 
fruited tree was dearer yet. She was no coun¬ 
try girl from the Devon dales, but a town lady 
bred. I had a great house by that time, with 
all the things fitting about me, and my sphere 
was hers. The pearls suited her pleasant brow, 
and crowned her still raven tresses as becoming 
as the single rose in her hair had adorned sim¬ 
ple Kate. I think, if I may so say without in¬ 
gratitude for my present great happiness, and 
with the leave of my dear .Charlotte, that the 
happiest hours of my life were spent during 
those days, when our children’s voices rang 
cheerily over the house, and some little scheme 
of pleasure for them was my every-day desire 
and Mary’s. Even at the terrible time when 
boy and girl were being taken from us at once, 
never did their patient mother seem more dear 
to me. From when the hush of sickness stole 
upon us at first, to the day when that white pro¬ 
cession left our doors, what a healing spirit was 
she ! When we thought that the thickly folded 
veil of sorrow had fallen over us forever, how 
tenderly she put it aside ! 
“It must needs have happened that my 
speech has here been melancholy, but indeed I 
should not speak of Mary so. She was the 
blythest, cheerfullest, most comfortable middle- 
aged wife that man ever.had. Behind our very 
darkest trouble a smile was always lying ready 
to struggle through it, and what a light it shed ! 
One of your resigned, immovable females, who 
accept every blessing as a temptation, and sub¬ 
mit, with precisely the same feelings, to what 
they call - every chastening, would have killed 
me in a week. George, my Mary acted at all 
times according to her nature, and that nature 
was as beautiful and blessed as ever fell to the 
lot of womankind. You ought well think that. 
Kate and Mary were two prizes great enough 
for one man to draw out of the marriage lottery, 
and yet I drew another. When I lost my be¬ 
loved Mary, my third wife took her place in my 
inmost heart. 
« Kiss me, Charlotte,” said the old man, ten¬ 
derly, and again she kissed him on the cheek. 
“And now,” continued he, “let us fill our glass¬ 
es, for the New Year is coming on apace ; and 
please to drink to the memory of my two wives, 
and to the health of her who is still left to me. 
The two first toasts must necessarily be some¬ 
what painful lo my dear Charlotte, and we will, 
therefye, receive them in silence; but the third 
we must drink with all the honors.” 
So after those, he stood up, glass in hand, and 
said to her— 
“Kate, Mary, Charlotte—bride, matron and 
dame in one, to whom I have been wedded this 
half a century—for I have had no other wife, 
George—God bless you, dear old heart! We 
have had a merry Christmas, as we have ever 
had, and I trust it may be permitted to us to 
have, still together, one more happy New Year. 
Hip ! hip ! hip ! hurrah !” and the echoes of 
our three times three seemed cheerily to roam 
all night about Tremadyn House.— Selected. 
WASHINGTON AND HIS FAMILY. 
“I had feasted my imagination, for several 
days, in the near prospect of a visit to Mount 
Vernon, the seat of Washington. No pilgrim 
ever approached Mecca with deeper enthusiasm. 
I arrived there in the afternoon of January 23, 
1785. I was the bearer of the letter from Gen¬ 
eral Green, with another from Colonel Fitzger¬ 
ald, one of the former aids of Washington ; and 
also the books from Granville Sharp. Although 
assured that these credentials would secure me 
a respectable reception, I felt an unaccountable 
diffidence as I came into the presence of this 
great, man. I found him at table with Mrs. 
Washington and his private family, and was re¬ 
ceived in the native dignity, with that urbanity 
so peculiarly combined in the character of a 
soldier and eminent private gentleman. He soon 
put me at ease, by unbending, in a free and af¬ 
fable conversation. The cautious reserve, which 
wisdom and policy dictated, whilst engaged in 
rearing the glorious fabric of our independence, 
was evidently the result of consummate pru¬ 
dence, and not characteristic of his nature.— 
Although I had frequently seen him in the pro¬ 
gress of the Revolution, and had corresponded 
with him from France, in 1781 and 1782, this 
was the first, occasion on which I had contem¬ 
plated him in his private relations. 1 observed 
a peculiarity in his smile, which seemed to illu¬ 
minate his eye ; his whole countenance beamed 
with intelligence, whilst it combined confidence 
and respect. 
The gentleman who had accompanied me 
from Alexandria, left in the evening, and I re¬ 
mained alone in the enjoyment of the society of 
Washington, for two of the richest days of my 
life. I saw him reaping the reward of his 
illustrious deeds, in the quiet shade of his be¬ 
loved retirement. He was at the matured age 
of fifty-three. Alexander and Caesar both died 
before they reached that period of life, and 
both had immortalized their names. How 
much stronger and nobler the claims of Wash¬ 
ington to immortality 1 In the impulses of mad 
and selfish ambition, they acquired fame by 
wading to the conquest of the world through 
seas of blood. Washington, on the contrary, was 
parsimonious of the blood of his countrymen, 
and stood forth, the pure and virtuous champion 
of their rights and formed for them (not him¬ 
self ) a mighty republic. To have communed 
with such a man in the bosom of his family, I 
shall always regard as one of the highest privi¬ 
leges, and most cherished incidents of my life. 
I found him kind and benignant in the domes¬ 
tic circle, revered and beloved by all around 
him; agreeably social, without ostentation ; de¬ 
lighting in anecd<4e and adventures, without 
assumption ; his domestic arrangements harmo¬ 
nious and systematic. 
His servants seemed to watch his eye, and to 
anticipate his every wish ; hence a look was 
equivalent to a command. His servant Billy, 
the faithful companion of his military career, 
was always at his side. Smiling content anima¬ 
ted and beamed on every countenance in his 
presence. The first evening I spent under the 
wing of his hospitality, we sat a full hour at 
table by ourselves, without the least interrup¬ 
tion, after the family had retired. I was ex¬ 
tremely oppressed by a severe cold and exces¬ 
sive coughing, contracted by the exposure of a 
harsh.winter journey. He pressed me to use 
some remedies ; but I declined doing so. As 
usual, after retiring, my coughing increased.— 
When some time had elapsed, the door of my 
room was gently opened, and on drawing my 
bed curtains, to my utter astonishment, I beheld 
Washington himself, standing at my bedside, 
with a bowl of hot tea in his hand. This little 
incident, occurring in common life, with an or¬ 
dinary man, would not have been noticed ; but 
as a trait of the benevolence and private virtue 
of Washington, deserves to be recorded.”— 
Watson's “ Men and Times of the Revolution.” 
Pit anti Umar. 
INFLUENCE OF DIET ON LABOR. 
A farmer once employed a man in hay-time, 
and set him to mowing. The employer was a 
mean man, and kept his help as short as possi¬ 
ble—making butter-milk and whey a good 
portion of their diet for breakfast. Going into 
his field one day, he overheard his mower sing¬ 
ing, in a faint, slow, drawling manner, and suit¬ 
ing the action of grass-cutting to the words of 
his song. His song was this : 
“ Jl-u-t-t-e-r-m-i-l-k a-n-d w-h-e-y, 
B-u-t-t-e-r-m-i-l-k a-n-d w-h-e-y, 
F-a-i-n-t a-1-1 d-a-y, * 
F-a-i-n-t a-1-1 d-a-y.” 
This he kept on repeating over and over 
again, growing slower and fainter, both in his 
singing and his work. 
But the next morning the farmer had bacon 
and eggs provided for breakfast; and when he 
went info his field again, his man was briskly 
singing and mowing away at a rapid rate ; 
“ Bacon and eggs, 
Take care your legs ; 
Bacon and eggs, 
Take care your legs !” 
Sharp! —Among the jokes which have been 
got off during the long detentions occasioned 
by the deep snow, is the following, clipped from 
a Vermont paper : 
“ Madam,” said a conductor, a day or two 
since, “ your boy can’t pass at half fare ; he’s 
too large.” 
“ He may be too large now,” replied the wo¬ 
man, who had paid for a half ticket, “ but he was 
small enough when we started /” 
The joke may be appreciated when it is 
known that the train had been delayed all night 
at a by-station. 
“Annette, my dear, what country is opposite 
to us on the globe ?” 
“Don’t know,sir.” 
« Well, now,” continued the perplexed teacher, 
« if I were to bore a hole through the earth, and 
you were to go in at this end, where would you 
come out ?” 
“ Out of the hole, sir,” replied the pupil, with 
an air of triumph, at having solved the great 
question. 
A Si’indi.k-Shanked Gentleman, having put 
on a new pair of boots, said to a friend, “ What 
do you think of my new boots ?" who shrewdly 
replied, “ Sir, your boots look very well—but 
your legs appear in them much like a rope in a 
well.” 
- - 
“Delaware will never yield an inch to New 
Jersey,” said a patriotic Delawarian when the 
pea patch case was being tried. “ If she did,” 
replied a Jersey Blue, “ she would.lose half her 
territory." 
Italy has often been compared to a boot—and 
it is a boot, we should say, that would almost 
give its sole, if it could only see the last of Aus¬ 
tria. 
A Genius has just invented a stove that saves 
three-quarters of the wood, while the ashes it 
makes pay for the remainder. 
PuLPERNiCKKL says a woman’s heart is the 
“most sweetest” thing in the world ; in fact a 
perfect honey comb —full of sells. ZJccware. 
LAND WAKIJANTS.— Wanted at the highest market 
price. ALFRED G. MUDGE, No. 37 West Gallery, Arcade 
Rochester, March 18, 1856. 324-4t. 
CHERRY VALLEY FEMALE ACADEMY, 
Cherry Valley, Otsego Co., N. Y., 
C. G. HAZELTINE, J. A. FOWLER, Principals. 
The Summer Session will commence on the 1st of May. This 
Institution has gained a wide reputation for its educational ad¬ 
vantages, solid and ornamental. In the department of Music 
it is unequalled, being under the immediate direction of Mr. 
FOWLER, the well known composer. The climate of Cherry 
Valley is one of the most favorable in the Union for the devel¬ 
opment of a healthful and vigorous constitution. It is but a 
few miles distant from Sharon Springs, a well known place of 
Summer resort. For Catalogues, address the President or ono 
of the Principals. D. H. LITTLE, 
324-4t President of Board of Trustees. 
1 AIRFIELD ACADEMY. 
“This Institution is at Fairfield, Herkimer Co., N. Y., seven 
miles from the Central Railroad at Little Falls, irom which 
students are conveyed free the first day of each term. For 
healthfulness of climate, and beauty of scenery its location is 
unsurpassed ; and its ample accommodations, experienced and 
efficient Faculty, and unusually extensive Apparatus afford 
peculiar advantages. It has for ladies two thorough Graduat¬ 
ing Courses, one of three and one of five years. Special atten¬ 
tion is given to those preparing for College. Good facilities af¬ 
forded in Oil Painting and other Ornamentals. The Instru¬ 
mental Music Class is unusually largo and has tho Tuition of 
three experienced Teachers. Board, washing and furnished room 
for a term of thirteen weeks $25,75. Tuition from $4 to $6. 
The Spring Term of 1856 begins April 16th. The Fall Term 
August 27th. For rooms or catalogues address Rev. J. B. Van 
Patten, A. M., Principal. [324-3t] J. MATHER, See. 
PURE BRED DOMESTIC ANIMALS 
AT PRIVATE SALE. 
Consisting of Short-horns and North Devon Cattle, 
Soidh-dovm Sheep, Berkshire and Essex Swine. 
Owing to the overflow of population from the city of Now 
York into tho county of Westchester, I have been obliged to 
transfer my entire breeding establishment to tho “ Ilordsdale 
Farms” twelve miles north of “ Mount Fordlmm," and twenty- 
two miles from the City Hall, New York, by the Harlem Rail¬ 
road, by which road access may be bad to and from “ Herds- 
dale” both morning and afternoon. Tickets can be procured in 
New York either at the corner of Centre and White Streets, or 
at 27th Street for Scarsdalc Depot, from which Station “ liords- 
dale” is within 1% miles. 
Elisha S. Patrick, (my farmer) lias tho entire charge of tho 
Stock and is fully authorized to sell and deliver. I will he at 
Ilordsdale on Wednesday of each week, from 11 A. M. to 3 P. 
M. My residence and Post-Office is the same as before, at 
Mount Fordham, Westchester Co., TV. Y. I will answer all com¬ 
munications by letter, and accompany any who may desire it, 
to the Farms. 
The Seventh Annual Catalogue will he ready for delivery on 
about the 1st May, 1856, and will bo forwarded by mail to all 
my stock correspondents ; also to new ones who may desire it. 
It will contain many illustrations of prize animals, with my 
views as to the origin, utility and peculiar adaptation, of each 
brood to different sections of our country. 1 shall continue to 
import from time to time (ns occasion may require,) to keep up 
with the improvement of tho age or to strike new veins of dif¬ 
ferent strains of blood. The animals for sale will have their l ull 
pedigrees, ages, Ac., with prices attached. I will deliver in the 
city of New York to Express Co., or Rail Oar, or on shipboard 
fice of charge and risk, and will also provide the necessary food 
and fixtures for the voyage, by the parties paying cost for tho 
same. Swine are boxed free of charge. 
My friend and partial associate iu Short-horns, Mr. N. J. Be- 
car, of “ Hillsdale,” Smithtown, Long Island, (at which plaoo 
his herd of Short-horns are kept,) has been an importer and 
breeder for the past six years, and a successful exhibitor at the 
American Institute, our State Show and the National Show, as 
by reference to tho Agricultural Journals of the said Societies, 
it will fully appear. A Catalogue of iiis Short-horn herd will 
be issued simultaneously with mine, either in the same hook or 
by itself, it will be distributed precisely as mine, and when a 
person writes for one the other will be sent also. I will state 
for tho information of some who may not be informed, that 
nearly all our importations of Short-horns have been made 
jointly and we iiave purchased the stock in England, risked tile 
voyage and divided the animals in this country, in such a way 
as each to possess the same strains of blood. Mr. Bkcar is now 
joint owner with me in the celebrated bulls " Duke of Olostcr" 
and " Romeo," tho celebrated cow “ Duchess 66t/i" and her two 
heifers. From his isolated location iiis sales have been less 
than mine ; his nerd is from this reason more desirable to select 
from. Address him for Catalogue and information at 187 Broad¬ 
way, N. Y„ at which place ho can frequently bo seen and ar¬ 
rangements made for visiting his herd. J.. G. MORRIS. 
March 13, 1856. 324-6t 
N. B. Having been an exhibitor for the last 8 or 10 years, in 
all my different departments of Domestic Animals, and with a 
satisf actory share of success (which by reference to the printed 
Transactions of this State, tho American Institute, and tho 
United States Society will appear,) I determined previous to 
the last years meeting to retire for the next few years at least, 
from the exhibiting field, by which moans I shall keep my ani¬ 
mals at home in a proper breeding condition, and give room to 
other equally meritorious breeders, who have not had as good 
opportunities as I have to prepare themselves for exhibiting.— 
My friend, Mr. Bkcar, intends doing the same. I.. G. M. 
uTa M I Iu T « N F E MALE SEMINA II Y . 
Clinton C. Hu el I. A. M., l'rlncipui. 
The Summer Term of this Seminary will commence on 
Wednesday: March 19th. Expenses, full board, furnished room, 
washing, fuel, lights, and tuition in the Common English 
Branches, $125 per year. For Circulars or admission apply to 
the Principal, Hamilton, N. Y. 323-3t 
DAIRY FARM FOR SALE, 
In the town of Sherman, Ohautauque Co., N. Y„ one mile west 
of Sherman village, and 13 miles south of Westfield Depot, by 
plank road. Contains 257 acres, well watered and in good con¬ 
dition. 209 under improvement, and the balance well timbered. 
An Orchard, comfortable house, and first rate Dairy Buildings 
on it It will bo sold with 41 cows, team, farming nnd dairy 
utensils, or without, to suit tho purchaser. Price per acre $26. 
One-third of tho purchase money down is desirable, terms for 
the remainder made easy. For further particulars inquire ol 
JOB C. GRAY, on the premises. 
SUPERIOR SHORT HORN BULLS FOR SALE— 
Duke, (443,) red roan, 1 year old last July. Fairmount, (190.) 
light roan, 1 year old last May. Tyro, (1053,) red and white, 1 
year old next April. E. MARKS. 
Camillas, N. Y., March 3, 1856. 322-tf 
LARGE, OR PEA VINE CLOVER SEED, GENU¬ 
INE i and guaranteed. Grows six feet high,—nino dollars a 
bushel. Also, Scotch Hour oats,—seed from Washington, very 
stiff straw, soft shell, weigh about forty pounds; one dollar and 
fifty cents a bushel. Medium Clover, Red Top, Timothy Seed. 
Black Eyed, Kent and other peas, and most things desired by 
Farmers. E. J. FOSTER. 
Agricultural Store, Syracuse, March 1, 1856. 822-4t 
THE INDEPENDENT, 
A Weekly Religions ami Family Newspaper of the 
Largest Class. 
Among its many distinguished writers arc, Rev. Henry Ward 
Beecher, Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, Gov. Louis Kossuth, 
Charles L. Brace, and numerous others. 
Terms—B y Mail, $2 a year, iu advance. Specimen numbers 
sent gratis. 
Advertisements—Twelve nnd one-half cents a line for each 
insertion. JOSEPH II LADD, Publisher, 
322-10t Office No. 22 Beckman Street. New York. 
NEW YORK CONFERENCE SEMINARY’. 
CHARLOTTEVILLE, SCHOHARIE COUNTY, N. Y. 
Win. L. Wood, A. M. Principal. 
This Institution is the cheapest and one of the largest in 
this country. The attendance the present term is more than 
four hundred intelligent students. 
The next term of 22 weeks commences April 28, 1856. 
Location healthy, buildings now, rooms large, with clothes- 
presses. Unsurpassed advantages in Music, Engineering, An¬ 
cient and Modern Languages, Painting, Drawing, ,Vc. 
Students conveyed free from Albany on the day designated at 
commencement of each term, fare being remitted on payment 
of bill for quarter. Stages leave Stanwix Hall, in Albany, at 
six o'clock, A. m., on the 25th of April. 
fir Expense for board, washing, room furnished, fuel, and 
tuition in Common English, per quarter of 11 weeks, $21,00.— 
Extras nt very low prices. For circulars, or to engage rooms, 
address tho Principal. Sond and get a circular. 322-5t 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YOKKER, 
THE LEAPING WEEKLY 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
IiY D. D T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Host-Office. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE : 
Subscription—$2 a year—$1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows :—Three Copies one year, for $5 ; Six Copios 
(and one to Agent or getter up of club,) for $10 ; Ten Copies 
(and one to Agent,) for $15, nnd any additional number at tho 
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 must add 12j£ cents per copy to 
tho club rates of tho Rural. 
Sfi'/" Subscription money, properly inclosed and registered, 
may he forwarded at our risk. 
*.* The postago on the Rural is but 8J£ cents per quarter, to 
any part of the State (except Monroe County, where it goes free,) 
and cents to any oilier section of tho United States - payable 
quarterly iu advance at tho office where rcooived. 
Advertising.— Brief and appropriate advertisements will be 
inserted at 25 cents a line, each insertion, paynblo iu advance. 
Our rule is to give no advertisement, unless very brief, more 
than four consecutivo insertions. Patent Medicines, Ac., will 
not he advertised in this paper nt any price. S's/" The clrcnla 
tion of the Rural New-Yorker is at least ten thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or sitnilar journal iu tho 
World,- and from 20,000 to 30,000 lnrger than that of any other 
paper published in this State, out of New York city. 
IOC All communications, and business letters, should he ad¬ 
dressed to D. D. T. MOORE, Rocliostor, N. Y. 
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