180 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
MAY 31 
&}iflit£ Hoetitj;. 
I’M WITH you ONCE AGAIN. 
BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. 
I'm with you once again, my friends, 
No more my footsteps roam ; 
Where it began my journey ends, 
Amid the scenes of home. 
No other clime has skies so blue, 
Or streams so broad and clear, 
And where are hearts so warm and true 
As those that meet me here. 
Since last, with spirits wild and free, 
I pressed my native strand, 
I’ve wandered many miles at sea, 
And many miles on land. 
I’ve Been the fair realms of the earth 
By rude commotion torn, 
Which taught me how to prise the worth 
Of that where I was born. 
In other countries, when 1 heard 
The language of my own, 
How fondly each familiar word 
Awoke an answering tone 1 
But when our woodland songs were sung 
Upon a foreign mart, 
The vows that faltered on the tongue, 
With rapture filled the heart 1 
Jly native land, I turn to you, 
With blessings and with prayer, 
Where man is brave and woman true, 
And free as mountain air. 
Long may our flag in triumph wave 
Against the world combined, 
And friends a welcome—foes a grave, 
Within our borders find. 
fife’# imim. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE GENESEE. 
BY GLEZEN F. WILCOX. 
[Concluded from last week. j 
The daylight disclosed to our view a scene of 
romantic beauty. The walls of the chasm di¬ 
verged sufficiently to make room for a hundred 
acres of flats which constituted the farm of Mr. 
Allen. Under the bank which we had de¬ 
scended the previous evening, stood the house 
and other necessary farm buildings. The forest 
came down two-thirds of the way, and met a 
grassy carpet reaching upward from the water’s 
edge. Eighty rods northward, the river turned 
abruptly to the east, making the cliffs in that 
direction lace the south. The rocks lifted their 
naked sides three hundred and fifty feet above 
the water, and were deeply seamed by the 
beating tempests of many centuries. Light 
clouds of fog rested on the rippling waters, or 
floated, like spirit forms, hall way up the tow¬ 
ering cliffs. Occasionally masses of the slaty 
rock started, as if touched by an unseen hand, 
from their crumbling foundations, an'd rushed 
headlong into the river. The discharge of a 
rifle awakened the slumbering crags, and, with 
thunder voices, they held mysterious converse. 
We loitered that day, and dreamed away 
many an hour stretched on the green grass, and 
enveloped in the blue, mystic haze of autumn. 
The frowning cliffs seemed grayer. The river 
sung wondrous stories of bygone times, and the 
ceuturial oaks looked thoughtfully down thro’ 
the languid sunshine in the silent valley.— 
Seemingly we had ascended the stream of Time 
and re-passed the way-marks of fifty years.— 
The haziness of the atmosphere was but the 
smoke of the autumnal fires which the Indians 
sent annually over forest and prairie. The 
echoes that sounded occasionally* among the 
surrounding hills, were awakened by the tri¬ 
umphant shouts of a returning war party, and 
we almost expected to behold the imperial forest 
king, armed with bow and quiver, advancing 
with disdainful step and waving plumes along 
the river in search of his evening repast. 
The sun was an hour high in the afternoou, 
as we stood under a beetling cliff around which 
the water flowed at right angles. Rising per¬ 
pendicularly to the height of nearly four hun¬ 
dred feet, and extending southward for half a 
mile, was the wall of rock which pent the 
waters in their deep and stony bed. The 
stern, uncompromising attitude of this precipice, 
frightened the counte nance of his brother into 
quite a smiling and peaceable aspect; and the 
gentle, rising slope of the surface backward 
from the river to where it approached the steep¬ 
est acclivity, bristling with a forest, presents a 
few acres which are susceptible of cultivation. 
A part was devoted to the growing of corn and 
potatoes, and the remainder exhibited a barley 
stubble, the grain having been reaped and 
stacked on a small flat close by the water.— 
There was no dwelling within the range of our 
vision, and for ought we knew, none within the 
distance of several miles, and when I made the 
proposal to Hal of camping out that night, he 
instantly accepted, and we set about making 
our preparations. We crossed the river, and 
just under the brow of the hill where the turf 
was hard and green, and the shadows of the 
tall trees rested, selected our camping ground. 
Hal seized his rifle and ascended into the 
adjoining woods for the purpose of procuring a 
supply of meat for our supper, while I collected 
a quantity of green bushes, and by resting one 
end of them on the ground and the other on a 
pole supported a few feet above the earth by 
two forked sticks, constructed a shelter quite 
sufficient for protection against the dew. I 
then procured some drift wood for the purpose 
of making a fire, and helped myself to some 
potatoes from the adjoining patch. Meanwhile 
the frequent reports of Hal’s rifle induced me 
to believe that it was not our destiny to go 
supperless to sleep ; and as 1 reclined under the 
bushes, and looked out upon the descending 
slope, the river, and the high wall of rock which 
rose above, my thoughts frequently wandered 
from the surrounding scenery, and, in imagina¬ 
tion, I saw the savory game spitted on a sharp¬ 
ened stick, and heard it hiss and fret in the 
torturing flames. 
My revery was suddenly interrupted by the 
approach of the hunter. His rifle rested on his 
shoulder, and his broad-brimmed hat was t ipped 
backward, showing the big drops of sweat 
which stood thickly on his forehead. With his 
right hand he carefully secured and held up to 
view the four quarters of a squirrel, the remain¬ 
der, with the exception of a small portion of the 
skin, having been carried away by the bullet. 
“ You see my success,” he remarked. 
“ Yes, and the evidence of your skill, too, for 
you have performed half the operation of 
dressing.” 
“It is wonderful,” said he, bringing the butt of 
his rifle to the ground ; “it is wonderful what 
a race of squirrels exist hereabouts. They are 
as hold as yonder crag, yet acute enough to foil 
the most skillful hunter. Undoubtedly the 
scenery of their country has its effect upon 
them, the same in degree as upon the human 
race. They are above their neighbors in agili¬ 
ty of body and strengthof intellect. They are 
the Swiss of their race. For no sooner had I 
entered the woods, than they discovered that an 
enemy had invaded their territory. On the top 
limbs of the tall oaks they perched and chat¬ 
tered scoldingly, and dropped their brushes 
just in sight over the branches to tempt my ball. 
When the ground became too hot they were off 
slily for the friendly shelter of their hole, 
while a neighbor in an adjoining tree chattered 
loudly to cover their retreat. My bullets whis¬ 
tled thickly in vain. If one happened to cut 
close, and scrape off a lock of fur, they only 
bent their tails over their backs, aud vigorously 
chattered back their defiance, and contempt,' 
too, perhaps. Finally I turned my attention to 
an old veteran who sentinelled a wide-spread¬ 
ing oak. From his frequent and earnest 
speeches, I took him to be a leader. I beseiged 
him closely, keeping up a tremendous fire. At 
first he was disposed to pay no attention what¬ 
ever, and then he indulged in contemptuous 
silence. But his brush happening to come be¬ 
tween a ball and the limb whereon he was 
perched, he suddenly felt himself divested of 
that beautiful and useful appendage, and be¬ 
held it descending gracefully from bough to 
bough until it reached the ground. One long 
look of mingled mortification and rage at his 
falling honors, a savage chatter, and he was off. 
Suddenly I beheld him gliding down the tree, 
towards his castle’s entrance, which was situa¬ 
ted near the ground. He looked as silly as a 
peacock divested of his gay plumage, aud his 
small, round eyes twinkled with madness. 1 
stepped close to the tree, and held up my rifle. 
Down he came, wholly unmindful of the death’s 
eye that was staring so fearfully upon him. My 
finger was upon the trigger—a slight pressure, 
the terrible eye flashed, and, poor fellow ! he 
turned quickly two or three somersaults, fell 
at my feet, stretched out his four limbs, and ex¬ 
pired without a groan.” 
The meadows were merged and lost in univer¬ 
sal shade. Gloomier and grayer rose the cliffs 
in the darkened air, and the green carpeted 
slope had changed to dusky brown. Musically 
flowed the river in its worn channel, and the 
stream, repelled by the frowning precipice, 
floated wavingly into the deep silence of the 
forest. One by one the stars came out of the 
unfathomable blue, and looked calmly and 
cheeringly down upon the hushed earth—like 
hope into the saddened, silent soul. 
We lighted a fire, and as the flames flashed 
brightly up, the surrounding darkness became 
to the eye like a wall of ebony. The squirrel 
was broiled on the embers, some potatoes roast¬ 
ed in the hot ashes, and drawing forth from our 
knapsacks apples and crackers, with the green 
turf for table and seals, we made a substantial 
supper. Then wrapping overcoats around us, 
and arranging the packs for pillows, we lay¬ 
down, and soon were lost in refreshing sleep. 
But dreams came. The great cliffs, so silent 
all the day, had roused themselves, and with 
thunder voices were talking to one another.— 
Like old giants they seemed, their eyes flashed 
fires far and wide over the landscape, and their 
brows were thunder-gloomed and black in the 
gleaming lights. Methought the river hushed 
its silvery tones, or only murmured low, at 
times, as if to calm their angry inood. Sud¬ 
denly I awoke ; a bright flash of lightning, and 
a quick, rattling burst of thunder, dispelled my 
dream, and discovered to me the storm which 
was rapidly sweeping across the heavens. My 
companion awoke and sprang to his feet. We 
stood for a few moments watching the play of 
the lightning and listening to the prolonged 
echoes of the thunder among the crags, and 
then, as the first great drops of rain closed in 
mortal combat with the remaining embers of 
our fire, we sought the shelter of the barley 
stacks. A thresTing machine had been drawn 
to them the evening previous, which afforded 
us protection against the shower, and some 
straw placed on the ground beneath it formed 
our bed. When the day dawned we discovered 
a path which led out of the chasm, and ascend¬ 
ing through the woods, we soon stood upon the 
bank. The air was much warmer and clearer 
than in the valley below, for the space between 
the banks was filled wiih fog. It was rapidly 
rolling onward in the same direction with the 
stream, but it was some hours before it cleared 
entirely away and the air was restored to its 
wonted salubrity. 
A few miles travel along the road, and the 
ascent of a gentle eminence, brought us within 
view of Gardeau Flats, which are noted for once 
being the property and residence of the white 
woman, Mary Jeaiison. A log cabin, built by 
the Indians, and formerly inhabited by one of 
her daughters, is one of the few remaining relics 
of the red men along their favorite Genesee.— 
An old settler pointed out to us a mound to the 
southwest of the house, as the burial place of 
her husband, Hiocatoo, and her three sons.— 
Two of them were murdered by their eldest 
brother, and himself finally fell a victim to 
whisky and the tomahawks of two of his tribe. 
Old Hiocatoo was a mighty warrior, and at the 
head of his Indian armies he assailed the South¬ 
ern nations, penetrating their territories as far 
as Georgia. Ho memorial marks their last rest¬ 
ing place, and the plow has many times dis¬ 
turbed the soil above their ashes. 
We followed the road which led along the 
west side of the valley, and passed several 
beautiful cascades. One, in particular, excited 
our highest admiration. Embowered among 
the trees, it was not visible until we pushed 
aside the hushes, although but a few feet dis¬ 
tant from the path. Tall pines swung their 
sombrous branches overhead, breaking the sky 
into little patches of blue, and the delicate moss 
had crept over the naked rock, hiding its 
roughness and mantling it in green. Many 
years ago, a tract of land containing twenty or 
thirty acres started from its foundation and slid 
down the hill into the river, fill inf the old 
channel and causing the water to make a new oue 
on the east side of the valley. We passed along 
the foot of the Great Land Slide, and stopped a 
few moments to fire a few gas bubbles which 
rose from a spot of water dignified with the 
name of Burning Spring. The rocky, frown¬ 
ing bluffs have disappeared, and green fields 
and wood slope gently upward from the water’s 
edge. A short distance above St. Helena the 
water is closed in again. St. Helena is a 
scrubby town, and boasts the Cottage Inn, a 
sort of caravansary where entertainment is pro¬ 
vided for man aud beast under one roof, and 
for comfort aud neatness there is not much to 
choose between the stable and the kitchen. 
Between St. Helena and the Lower Falls, the 
tourist may behold some of the finest scenery 
of the Genesee, and if he be an artist, he will 
find what will task all the cunning of his pen¬ 
cil. The country appears new, and the stumps 
of the pines and hemlocks are yet standing 
thickly on the fields. The trees were cut, con¬ 
verted into lumber, and sold in the markets.— 
“ I was once engaged in the lumber trade,” said 
au old man to us, as we rested for a few mo¬ 
ments before his house. “ We used to cut the 
logs aud haul them to the top of the bank, roll 
them to the bottom, where we would form them 
into rafts, and then, when there was a freshet 
float them down to Rochester. Yonder are the 
remains of my old log-slide, by which I con¬ 
ducted the logs down the bank. It was built 
of plank, was three hundred feet long, and but 
little inclined from the perpendicular. One 
day we were engaged in sliding logs; two 
men were at work on the top ol the bank, while 
I was below clearing the way. You can imag¬ 
ine the swiftness and force with which the huge 
pines and hemlocks came down. When they 
were about to let go a very large one, they call¬ 
ed to me and gave warning, and I, for greater 
safety, stepped behind an oak tree a foot and a 
half in diameter. Down thundered the log, 
scarcely touching the plank, and striking th 
rock below, rebounded against the oak tree, 
laying me prostrate on the ground by the force 
of the concussion, while one-half of the log 
passed by me on one side and the other Half on 
the opposite side.” 
The traveler is aware, at length, that he is 
approaching a water-fall. Above the trees arises 
a waving mist like the blue smoke of an Indian 
wigwam, and like the low moaning of shells 
which lie along the ocean strand, comes the far- 
off noise of the cataract to his listening ear. 
The Lower Falls of Portage are yet primi¬ 
tive. The forest around them is almost unbro¬ 
ken. As you stand in their presence, and lis¬ 
ten to their ceaseless roar, you lose the present 
and are transported back into the shadowy 
past. You wonder if there is not a wigwam 
pitched under the tempest-scarred oaks upon 
the bank. You listen for the voices of playful 
children, mingled with the thunder of the 
waters. What a grand feature of the scene 
would the proud warrior be with his tall, erect 
form, waving feathers, and bent bow as he 
winged a swift arrow at the heron sailing 
whiskly above. They are the most picturesque 
and interesting of all the falls of the Genesee ; 
because there is more wildness, and therefore 
more naturalness about them, and the encroach¬ 
ing hand of the White Man is nowhere visible 
in proud structures reared for the worship ol 
Mammon. The water does not come down at 
one leap, and in an unbroken sheet. A few 
rods above the brink, it veers to the right bank, 
suddenly contracts to a narrow, foaming torrent, 
sweeps madly down into a rock basin, where it 
rests for a moment, then wheels abruptly to the 
left, and takes its last plunge down a precipice 
of about twenty feet. It is within the memory 
of men still living, when the waters had not 
worn their present narrow channel, but spread 
over the entire bed from bank to bank, and fell 
ninety feet in an unbroken volume. That part 
which is now deserted by the river has received 
the name of Table Rock. 
The Middle Falls are the highest of all those 
of Genesee. One hundred and ten feet the 
water pitches down in an unbroken volume.— 
They are about two miles above the Lower 
Falls, and the way of the river is between per¬ 
pendicular and overhanging walls of rock, in 
many places rising to the height of three hun¬ 
dred feet. It is related that a party of survey¬ 
ors passing along the banks of the river, cut a 
pine which stood on the very edge of the preci¬ 
pice. The tall tree shivered for a moment as 
the last blows of the relentless ax fell upon its 
nearly severed trunk, and then leaning forward 
plunged headlong into the fearful abyss. It 
turned one complete somersault, struck upon 
its butt, and stood in its natural position. Reft 
by the shock every limb fell to the ground.— 
The bare pole stood erect for a moment among 
the prostrate ruins as if rooted firmly to the 
earth ; then, leaning slowly like a proud spirit, 
it sought its resting place. A few rods below 
the cataract, but not out of influence of the con¬ 
fused waters, is a singular cave in the over¬ 
hanging wall. It is approachable only with a 
boat or by swimming. It is called the Baking 
Oven, and consists of two rooms. The entrance 
to the center one, which is floored by water, is 
about twenty-five feet high. The inner one, 
which is dry, closely resembles in shape the 
hull of a ship. 
Within sight are the Upper Falls, which are 
sixty-six feet high. Just above them, in the 
bed of the stream, are the stone piers whereon 
rests the great Portage Bridge, which lifts its 
skeleton form two hundred and thirty-four feet 
above the water. We first saw it by moonlight, 
which, gleaming obliquely through the mass of 
timber, wove a network of shadows on the gray 
precipice. 
Here ends the striking scenery of the Gene¬ 
see. From this point to its source among the 
hills of Pennsylvania, the tourist would find 
nothing but the common appearances of a 
stream, flowing by villages, and through an un¬ 
dulating and partly cultivated country. Por¬ 
tage village, which is a mile above the Upper 
Falls, is pleasantly seated among the hills, and 
is generally very healthy. It is easily accessi¬ 
ble by railroad, and is destined, we believe, to 
a brilliant future as a fashionable resort for 
those who desire to escape from the dust and 
heat of a great city during the dull summer 
months. We left it with sunny recollections, 
physically and mentally invigorated by a few 
days tramp through the woods and over the 
rocks and hills; and when the swift years 
have swept over us, from the Old Man’s Arm 
Chair we shall gaze back with pleasant contem¬ 
plation on that trip along the Genesee, in the 
warm and dreamy September days. 
'iraifli. 
A writer of a love tale, in describing his he¬ 
roine, says :—“ Innocence dwells in the rich 
curls of her dark hair.” Some critic, comment¬ 
ing on the passage, says :—“ Sorry to hear it— 
think it stands a perilous chance of being 
combed out.” 
A young man recently married, says he 
“ didn’t find it half so hard to get married as he 
did to find the furniture.” Nothing new.— 
How many begin this game of folly at the 
wrong end ? The phrase is :—“ Marry in haste, 
repent at leisure!” 
Matthew Lansing used to say :—«If you 
wish to have a shoe made of durable material, 
you should make the upper leather of the 
mouth of an old toper, for that never lets in 
water.” 
A naturalist, describing the rook, says :— 
“ He loves the blue empyrean, and he quits his 
lofty height when he is brought to this dull 
earth by the mere force of caterpillery attraction.” 
Facts. —Old Mr. Singlestick mystified a tea- 
party by remarking that women were facts. 
When pressed to explain his meaning he said, 
“Facts are stubborn things.” 
“ John, I fear you are forgetting me,” said a 
bright-eyed girl to her sweetheart. “ Yes, Sue, 
I have been for getting you these two years.” 
-o. - 
The man that can stop rum drinking “ when¬ 
ever he has a mind to,” has gone west to dine 
with perpetual motion. 
Written for Aloore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
BOTANICAL ENIGMA.- 
I am composed of 1G letters. 
My 11, 3, 16, 16, 6, 5 is a common weed with 
very acid leaves. 
My 1G, 13, 11, 15 is the flower of an ornamental 
shrub. 
4 
My 12, 10, 2, 1 is a fragrant garden flower. 
My 8,13, 5, 7, G, 2, 16, 3, 7 is a wild flower 
found throughout the United States. 
My 14,10, 5, 5,3, 4 is a tree of several sorts. 
My 4, 6, 9, 7,11 is the name given to useless 
plants. 
My whole is a true saying. 
Hartford, Wis., 1856. E. W. D. 
Answer next week. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
There is a staff standing fifteen feet in the 
water. The length in the air added to the 
length in the mud, plus nine feet, is equal to 
three and three-fifths times the length in the 
water. Adding the length in the mud to the 
length in the water, plus twelve feet, it is equal 
to four-fifths the length in the air. Required, 
the length of the staff, the length in the mud, 
the length in the air. d. e. r. 
Answer next week. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma in No. 333 : 
Sir Francis Drake. 
Answer to Geometrical Problem in No. 333 : 
17.481 and 11.654 perches. 
ADVERTISEMENTS. 
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TII E GREAT WEST IN 1856 . 
THE STATES AND TERRITORIES 
OF THE GrHEiXT WEST, 
INCLUDING 
Ohio , Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Michigan, Wisconsin, 
Minnesota , Iowa , Kansas, and Nebraska 
Their Geography, History, Advantages, Resources, and Pros¬ 
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Laws Giving a Table of Distances, and the most Direct 
Routes and Modes of Conveyance ; also, pointing out the 
Best Districts for Agricultural, Commercial, Lumbering, and 
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BY JACOB FERRIS. 
In one Volume, with a new and accurate Alap, embracing each 
of the above States and Territories, and numerous Illlusl ra¬ 
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The Great West is emphatically the Bonk for the general 
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Most other books upon the West are confined to some limited 
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the plains and over the mountains, or with details of mere local 
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THE WHOLE WEST. 
The author possesses a rare experience of the West, having 
visited almost every part of it this side of the Rocky -Moun¬ 
tains, to obtain a knowledge of the country, the progress of 
settlements, and the manners of the people. Ready May 28th. 
For sale by all Booksellers, News and Traveling Agents, to 
whom liberal terms will be given. 
MILLER, ORTON A ArULLIGAN, Publishers, 
333w2 25 Park Row, N. Y., or 107 Genesee St., Auburn. 
THE BEST LAND PLASTER. 
"I, have analyzed a specimen of ‘ Vienna Plaster or 
Gypsum,’ and also specimens of ‘Cayuga’ and “Onondaga 
Plaster,’ and find them to yield respectively as follows : 
VIENNA PLASTER. 
Sulphate of Lime. 70.92 
Carhonate of Lime. 4.15 
Carbonate of Magnesia. 1.50 
Alumina... 2 46 
Silica. 1.84 
Protoxide of Iron. 21 
Water. 1833 
Loss. 29 
.TAMES R. CHILTON, M. D., Chemist. 
New York, March 19, 1854. 
ONONDAGA PLASTER. 
Sulphate of Lime. 63.20 
Sulphurct of Lime.... 1 ill 
Carbonate of Lime. 6 30 
Carbonate of Magnesia. 1 00 
Alumina. 2.80 
Silica. 2.46 
Water. 22 10 
Loss. 24 
CAYUGA PLASTER. 
Sulphate of Lime. 
Sulphuretof Lime. 
Carbonate of Lime. 
Carbonate of Magnesia. 
Alumina. 
Silica. .. 
Protoxide of Iron. 
Water. 
Loss. 
100.00 
50.40 
2.00 
18U0 
3 SO 
4.H0 
4.40 
32 
1650 
48 
loo.oo 
JAMES R. CHILTON, M. D„ Chemist 
New York, April 2, 1856.” 
It appears from the above analysis that the “Vienna Plas¬ 
ter” is superior for land to that of the Cayuga or Onondaga, 
inasmuch as it contains the largest perm ntage of the *• Sul¬ 
phate of Lime,” which is the most beneficial property in Land 
Piaster. 
This Plaster is kept constantly on hand at Vienna, Pittsford, 
Fishers, Victor, Canandaigua and Geneva. 3i3tf * 
COMBINED REAPER AND MOWER. 
MANNY PATENT WIT 1 ( 
WOOID’S XTMia£?»3El.O'VJEIjatrT3I5r'X , „ 
FOR THE HARVEST OF 1856. 
In calling the attention of farmers to my Machine, for tho 
coming harvest, I take great pleasure in speaking of its still 
increased merits over any previous year's manufacture, and 
in recommending it as now improved and perfected as being a 
Combined Reaper and Mower, adapted in every respect to the 
wants of farmers who have use for such au implement. 
I have so shortened the rear part of tile platform and frame 
ns to make the delivery easy. The reel post on the left sine of 
tho machine is made higher, the wing board wider and longer, 
and have put in internal gear. The raising lever is lengthened, 
and the driver’s seat set further back, which to balances the 
machine as to rid the horses of all weight upon their necks— 
aud I have the utmost confidence in recommending it as tho 
best Combined Reaper and Mower in use 
Wairanted capab e of cutting in a workmanlike manner 
from 10 to 15 acres of Grass or Grain per day. 
My terms are the same as heretofore. For the Combined 
Machine, delivered here on board cars $125. For the Single 
Mower, SI 10. WALTER A. WOOD, 
Manufacturer and Proprietor, Hoosick Falls, N. Y. 
Mayl, 1856. 33itf 
COiVSTEIlIlirATIOIV. 
Tms imported Thorough Bred Ilorse will stand the present 
season, as heretoiore, at ihe farm of J. B Burnet, Esq., 1% 
miles west of Syracuse at $10 the season, or $20 to insure The 
money to be paid in advance in all cases. 'Where insurance is 
effected a receipt will be given, promising to refund in case the 
mare is proved not to have got iu foal—and provided always 
that she is regularly returned to, or left with the horse until the 
groom is satisfied she-is stiuted. Pasturage at 50 cents per 
week at risk of owners. 
329wl0 WILLIAM KEENAN, Groom. 
STATEN ISLAND 
FANCY DYEING ESTABLISHMENT. 
Office, No. 3 John St , two Doors from Broadway, N. 1'. 
Dye Ribbons, Silks, Woolen and Fancy Goods, in the piece 
or otherwise, of every description. Their superior style of dye¬ 
ing ladies and gentlemen's garments is widely known. 
Crape Shawls dyed tho most brilliant or grave colors ; all 
kinds of Shawls, Curtains, Ac., cleansed or re-dyed. 
Goods received aud returned by express. 
BAKRETT, NEPHEWS A CO., 
326wl3 No. 3 John St., 2 doors from Broadway, N. Y. 
FOR SALE, 
A farm containing 142 acres, with good buildings, brick 
nouse, horse stable, two good hay barns, etc., situated on the 
East Bank of tho Genesee River, in West Brighton, about four 
miles from Rochester. 
Also, a House and Lot on Exchange street, known as the 
"Franklin House.” 
The above property il not sold soon will be rented. For par¬ 
ticulars apply to B. M. Baker, at his Livery Office, North Fitz- 
hugh street, Rochester. HIRAM WOOD, 
B. M. BAKER, 
325-tf Administrators to Jos. Wood's Estate 
II. C. BRYAN, FASHIONABLE HATTER, old stand 
of Clark A Gilman, 23 State St., Rochester. Iy331 
DAGUERREOTYPES — Accurate, elegant, unsurpassed 
pictures taken in clear or cloudy weather. Particular attention 
paid to tho likenesses of children.—Old pictures accurately copi¬ 
ed. Rooms, Arcade Hall, opposite Post-office, sign of C Perry. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
TnE LEADING WEEKLY 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY D. D T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Exchange Place, Opposite the Posl-Offlee. 
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 nny additional number at the 
Bamo rate, ($1,50 per copy.) As we 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 
the club rates of the Rural. 
Fjy- Subscription money, properly inclosed and registered, 
may be forwarded at our risk. 
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. Vj/" The circula. 
tion or the Rural New-Yorker is at least, ten thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or similar joumnl 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. 
