Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALL EARTH IS BEAUTIFUL. 
On, tell me not this earth is all 
A scene of foul decay, 
That o’er its joys a funeral pall 
Is spread in dark array. 
Oh, tell me not there is no lore, 
No beauty here below, 
For God, from higher courts aboro, 
Hath blessed all things below. 
There’s beauty in each tiny (lower 
That blooms along the way, 
Or decks the cool and shady bower 
In rich and bright array ! 
There's beauty in each forest tree 
That shades the passer by, 
There’s music in the tiny bee 
That hum’s his busy lay. 
There’s heauty in the mountain rill 
That flows along the glade, 
There's beauty in the rugged hill 
And in the forest shade; 
There’s beauty in the summer day, 
There’s beauty in the night 
That comes to us with gentle lay 
And happy visions bright. 
There’s beauty in the summer cloud 
And in the April shower, 
For these our All-Wise Father gives 
To gladden leaf and flower! 
Oh, yes, all earth is beautiful 
With every varied scene, 
For wheresoe'er the eye may gaze 
The Hand of God is seen ! 
Princeton, Ind., 1809. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MATTIE’S MISTAKE. 
BY ELLEN C. LAKE. 
-Cottage, April IS. 
I am going to write you a letter this morning, 
dear Abbie Linton, so erase at once the long line 
of black marks which I doubt not you have placed 
against my name in your heart-book, disperse from 
your busy brain the manifold cares of your matron- 
ship, and listen to me, the “ wilful and untamed ” 
of our school-girl days, but now,—alas! for the 
romance-killing effect of years and matrimony,— 
transformed into the staid and yielding spouse of 
one Henry Graves. 
I can see just how you lift your hands and open 
your eyes, Abbie; I know' just what an exclama¬ 
tion of wonder and surprise will spring to those 
saucy lips of yours, but to all that you may think, 
or do, or say, I only drop a very demure “ curt’sey,” 
—as Miss Prim used to have it,— and repeat my 
assurance that “years and matrimony ” have 
worked a great,—and, I fancy that I may add with 
propriety, a miraculous change in the friend of 
yours who once bore the name of Mattie Somers. 
You hadn’t heard of it, had you? I have taken 
all possible care that you shouldn't, a fact for which 
you will doubtless think of calling dowm “ inverted 
blessings ” in my behalf, but don’t do more than 
think of such a proceeding, lor I am free to assert 
that when my motives are explained, you will find 
good in the seeming ill. 
Such long, quiet talks as we used to have in that 
room of ours at H-school—such castles as we 
used to build—and such wild, romantic fancies as 
sprang to life in our maiden brains—fancies at 
thought of which I smile now, for, doyou remember, 
they were mostly of some “lone sequestered dell,” 
where, in “ maiden meditation fancy free,” we 
were to spend our lives untroubled by the obnox¬ 
ious presence of the masculine gender—where the 
“lot” of woman w'ould not blast our hopes, break 
our hearts, and consign us to early graves. 
Do you remember, too, how we denied ourselves 
all little luxuries that we might purchase linen for 
our “old maid’s hall?” Well, one of those same 
napkins I have seen lying beside my “ cara sposa’s ” 
breakfast-plate to-day,—a fact which proves very 
effectually, to me, the “ vainness of earthly hopes.” 
But perhaps it is not a laughing matter after all.— 
It was a crying one for me, when Cupid shot an 
arrow through John Linton’s heart into yours, and 
I was obliged to witness the sacrifice. 
Perhaps you remember that I was, or tried to be, 
extremely unconcerned, but it was with an uncom¬ 
fortably heavy feeling about the heart that I caught 
my last glimpse of you on the morning of your 
marriage, and after you were fairly gone, the tides 
that had been rising so long within, had their own 
way as to overflowing. 
It was not to be wondered at, I presume, that I 
grew low-spirited, alone with my servants in the 
great, vacant-seeming house; which, lacking the 
presence of those who had so early left me, could 
be in no wise home, and it was not long before I 
came to a very positive conclusion that I should 
not stay in it. 
I had read in the papers left by my father at his 
death, of a small property in the township where 
he was born, which, it struck me, would be a suitable 
place for carrying out the project we together had 
originated, but w'hich I alone was to execute, so 
with my usual and rather stubborn decision, I im¬ 
mediately set about preparing to take possession 
of my country residence. Annis, my “maid of all 
work,” was to accompany me, and as she was abopt 
as ignorant of country life as I, we were neither of 
us troubled by a doubt as to our getting along 
without a man’s assistance, though whether she 
shared my aversion to the sex, I have reason to 
doubt. 
Well, in due time our plans were put in execu¬ 
tion, and one bright afternoon in Spring we reached 
Welton. I was in extacies at the aged and time¬ 
worn appearance of my domicil, built in the fash¬ 
ion of an old, old time, with gables and turrets, 
crooks, windings and turns, such as I am sure now, 
no woman untouched by an old maid manner would 
think of enduring. That/was not untouched I 
ithink you willing to concede, when I tell you that 
so much was my natural disposition changed by 
the engrafted ideas that I—actually I, who used to 
call a servant to bring me a book—helped Annis 
carry our trunks from the gate, where they were 
left by the coachman, to the porch; unpacked their 
contents, and arranged a room for our occupancy 
before I slept that night, dreaming wondrous 
dreams, when I did sleep, of the rights and dormant 
faculties of womankind. We prospered finely for 
a few days, but the time came when we had burned 
the last stick we could lay hands on, and began to 
realize that something must be done. Annis would 
not dare, she said, to go out alone, so after a good 
deal of hesitation I donned my plainest garb, and 
we went together to the nearest farm house. Now', 
I’m a bit proud of the titles of my ancestors and 
the blood in my veins, as you know, and I can tell 
you that the latter boiled some ivhen, in answer to 
our summons, a red-faced servant girl opened the 
door, who, after a deliberate survey of our persons, 
said with a broad accent and a broader sneer,— 
“Sure, and where did ye’s come from?” 
“ The next house,” said I, shortly. 
“We don’t have such here,” was her answer, 
shutting the door in our faces, and there we were, 
strangers, with that emphasized “such” ringing 
in our ears, and the comfortable assurance that 
the girl’s opinion of us was copied from that of her 
betters. 
We were turning to leave the house when an 
elderly gentleman, closing the front gate, came up 
the walk toward us. lie bowed, politely but cold¬ 
ly, and remembering our need,—an urgent one 
you will admit,—I ventured to state the case 
him. 
“I will see that you are supplied,” was his an 
swer, ascending the steps as he spoke, and we had 
nothing more to do but regain our lodgings 
don’t remember exactly whether I laughed or cried 
about it, but I guess a little of both, for though the 
treatment we hud received was exasperating, the 
real state of the case was quite ludicrous enough 
to warrant a hearty laugh—which I doubt not you 
will indulge in. 
Our fuel made its appearance that afternoon, and 
I was quite regaining my “mental equilibrium 
when Annis asked my orders for tea, adding, at the 
same time, with a look that told her appreciation 
of our situation, that there “ wasn’t so much as 
dust of flour in the house.” 
My enthusiasm was cooling very rapidly, but 
after taking myself to task for the “womanly 
weakness” of fearing the tongue of “ they say,” 
tied-my bonnet-strings very firmly, armed myself 
with my porte-monnaie and “ sallied forth.” The 
first shop at which I stopped was full of men, and 
my errand there was a vain one, for they either 
had nothing, or were ignorant as to the existence 
of the coin I carried. At the next I succeeded 
better, but had the pleasure of feeling that tw 
I could see that he was woefully puzzled, yet de¬ 
cidedly fearful as to the effect of the queries he 
was tempted to make, so, in pity for his embarass- 
ment. I mentioned, casually, in the conversation 
which followed, the fact of my having once been a 
resident of the “ruined castle” adjoining his farm, 
together with the motives and result of my adven¬ 
ture. It would have done you good to see his face 
brighter), and, seeing through the sport I was hav 
iDg at his expense, he joined in it so heartily that 
we were all like old friends at once. Henry had 
been from borne when I was there, and had known 
nothing of the trials and tribulations of my at¬ 
tempt to lead a single life, for, of course, I would 
be the last one to tell him. 
But such a long letter as I have made of this! 
I elect you the medium of my respects to your 
“ better half,” and add,—par parenthesis, as some¬ 
thing of a moral to the tale I have told—the con¬ 
fession of Mattie Somers that when she deemed 
herself, (in the singular number, possessive case, 
to no man,) self-sufficient for battle against labor, 
life, and above all, scandal, she was simply— 
mistaken. 
■Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MARIAN CROSS. 
pair of feminine eyes were taking notes of my pro 
ceedings, and laying up for future use a large 
quantity of food for scandal, while—alas, for my 
boasted strength and independence—I had not the 
slightest armor for protection of feeling. 
But you have “ seen the end from the beginning, 
I doubt not, and I am not going to furnish you 
with more laughing material from the history of 
my trials at present; trials which ended at last in 
the complete overthrow of my theory, and defeat 
of my heroism, as you have already guessed. I re 
turned to the city a wiser and, in somethings, per¬ 
haps, a sadder tvoman than Avhen I went away, 
but the “entree’’into society which I accomplished 
under the chaperonage of an old maid aunt in the 
course of the following winter, served to dispel 
very effectually the last remnant of my school-girl 
romance, for (attracted more by my “dimes” than 
my dimples, I doubt not,) I had so many on my 
list of admirers Avho tvere ready to spring at my 
lightest bidding, that I found it quite uucomforta 
ble for me to dispense with even the lip-service of 
the “ lords of creation.” 
It was a vain, almost a wicked life, Abbie, and 
looking with a happy heart and loving oyes at the 
home and the home-rn^ tvhich I have found at 
last, I thank the stars of my fate that the life 
within me has grown too deep tvith earnestness 
and too strict in honesty for such a sphere. 
But Avho is Henry Graves ? I know that you 
are beginning to ask the question rather impa 
tiently, and you shall be kept in suspense no 
longer by my wandering pen. Here I can write 
up to the rules of romance for it was at the 
“last party of the season,” and at a moment 
when, “ Aveary of the festivities,” I had “ with- 
drawn to a shadowy recess” that an old friend of 
my father’s presented to me a young friend of his 
own, who Avas no other than this self-same Henry 
Graves. I remember nothing peculiar about this 
first interview of ours, more than that I found my 
companion of the half hour following our intro¬ 
duction, possessed of more sense and less folly 
than most of the young men who danced attend 
ance on the aforesaid dimes, and concluded that he 
would do to retain in my “ list.” 
I am quite sure that I have not the least talent 
for writing “ love stories,” so you will have to im¬ 
agine all the dramatic passages and tender scenes 
Avhich occurred (or rather might have occurred, I 
don’t say that they did ) in the course of a love 
Avhich, though it ran smoothly, I believe to have 
been and to be, “ true as steel.” 
I knety little about my husband’s relatives be¬ 
fore our marriage, and in the bustle and excite¬ 
ment previous to the “ final end,” did not think 
Avhen he told me the name of the toivn Avhere they 
resided, that it Avas the same as the one Avhere I 
had spent or attempted to spend the summer of 
the year before. But when, in the afternoon after 
our marriage, I found myself in a carriage Avhich 
stood before the door Avhat had once been closed 
in my face, I began to realize my whereabouts, 
and feel, as well, a slight stirring of mischief 
Avitliin me. 
The girl Avho had performed the afore-mentioned 
act for me, Avas not to be seen and had probably been 
been discharged, but the gentleman Avhose opin¬ 
ion of me had been so legibly written on his face 
stood at the gate and had fairly grasped the hand 
of his new daughter, before, as I thmv up my veil, 
he recognized an old neighbor. I cannot, in any 
measure, give you an idea of the perplexed and 
astonished expression that swept over his counte¬ 
nance, but after a moment of hesitation he recov¬ 
ered himself and led the way to the house. 
All that dark, cloudy November day I had been 
listlessly gazing out at the sullen-looking sky, 
vainly hoping to get a glimpse of a single ray of 
sunshine, or at least one little, bright cloud to 
relieve the general dreariness,— but no, it still 
kept raining, raining. Turning moodily from the 
Avindow, I caught up the fragment of an old news- 
paper, and as I read the words, blotted and almost 
effaced by age and use, I forgot that the day was 
“dark, and sad, and dreary.” In thought I went 
back to the time when I made one of the merry 
group at the old red school-house upon the hill. I 
had seen the fading leaves of only twelve Autumns 
then, the days all seemed bright, and earth very 
joyous to me, yet I had learned that it Avas not so 
to all. I kneAV that among the youthful band Avho 
gathered there day after day, there were some Avho 
trod the life-path wearily—despairingly. And as I 
read 
“ She Avas not beautiful, poor girl, 
Her figure or her face 
Had none of all (lie charms that giro 
To maidenhood its grace,— 
One of those beings upon whom 
All sorrows seems to fall, 
Deformed and homely, poor and sad, 
And mind to feel it ail,” 
the pale, sad, thoughtful face of Marian Cross, 
came up before me, as, seated alone at her desk, she 
industriously committed to memory lesson after 
lesson, heedless of the busy hum around her; or, 
standing a little apart, watched us in our noisy 
sports at play hours. Noav and then our lively sal¬ 
lies would cause a faint smile to light up her face 
but it quickly faded, and the same mournful look 
Avould again take its place. We sometimes won¬ 
dered why she Avas sad, yet never paused to con¬ 
sider Avhether we could do aught to make her life 
more pleasant. 
Once, at her request, I went wi\i her to her 
home, and from that hour her sad ;4oks were no 
mystery to me. I will not attempt nJWescribe that 
home,—I felt that its very atmosphere was enough 
to chill every joyous impulse. I Avondered if the 
sunshine ever entered there,— sure was I that the 
sunshine of love never did, or it Avould have been 
a happier one. 
Her harsh, unfeeling, intemperate father; rough, 
clownish brothers, and careless, selfish sisters, had 
no sympathy for the timid, sensitive child; and her 
patient, over-tasked mother had no time to devote 
to her, and from others 
She never sought a smile 
To cheer her lonely heart, 
But by herself, with shrinking step, 
She struggled on apart. 
After a time the gloomy old house she had so 
long called home Avas exchanged for a pleasanter 
one, but more agreeable associations, or all the 
gloAving beauties of earth that surrounded her, had 
no poAver to bring happiness to her desponding 
heart. There came also a change in the household, 
some had found other homes, death had removed 
the mother and a sister, leaving of the group that 
once gathered at the homestead only Marian and 
her father. 
Many a long, long day —yes, even weeks,—she 
spent then alone, sorroAvful and disheartened.— 
Friends endeavored to cheer her with Avords of kind¬ 
ness and encouragement, yet her pale cheek greAv 
paler, her step slower, and her slender form boAved 
beneath the crushing weight of sorrow which 
ested upon her young heart, sloivly, surely wear- 
her life aAvay. The look of quiet, patient 
endurance which Avas ever upon her face, we felt, 
as we stood beside her last resting-place, came not 
from a meek, forbearing spirit, or she Avould have 
waited patiently until God called her to a happier 
world. 
Poor Marian! she Avas alone in the hour of 
death; none kneAV when it came. A friend hearing 
that she had been many days alone, and wishing to 
spend a little time with her, entered the house on 
beautiful autumn morning, and found her sleeping— 
sleeping the peaceful, dreamless slumber of death. 
By her side stood the cup that had contained the 
deadly draught; the hand that prepared it yet 
remained clasped over the heart, which bad ceased 
to beat; around the cold lips still lingered a smile, 
■ the weary one Avas at rest. 
In tearful silence friends gathered as they learned 
the sad story, but there Avas none that could ansAver 
the half-uttered words of inquiry that rose to every 
lip — none but the Searcher of all Hearts kneAV how 
deep was the anguish, how strong, how alluring the 
temptation which caused her to commit the dread¬ 
ful deed. Sloivly, sadly, they bore her to her last 
resting-place, gently they laid her down to repose 
beneath the green turf, and now but few can tell 
"Where blobms the clover, Avhite and red, 
That nature kindly rears 
To guard the slumbers of the child 
Of poverty and tears. 
Oakland, N. Y., 1959. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 44 letters. 
My 24, 3, 24, 25, 2S, 19, 17 was an ancient city. 
My 9, 7, 24, 22 are a kind of potato. 
My 20, 4, 27, and 17, G, 30, 5, 81, 87, 34 have no enemies 
hut the ignorant 
My 25, 43, 39, 21, 3 hides our own faults. 
My 22, 40, 30,13 is compounded chiefly of mineral sub¬ 
stances. 
My 18,12,11,13, 33,17 are of both the head and heart. 
My 25, 4, 42, 36, 22, 5 owes its value to its scarcity. 
My 1, 20, 43, 22 , 15, 14 was the capital of Poland. 
My 2 , 7, 4, 32, 18, 40, 43, 35 hits a retreat for the insane. 
My 41,15, 8,17, 34, 24, 10, 20, 21 is a variety of sweet 
potato. 
My 37, 5,44,13,10, 8 is an island belonging to the British 
My 17, 5, 29, 37, 33, 3, 13, 13, 34 are islands in Africa 
belonging to England. 
My AVhole is a conundrum. Mollie. 
i£5T~ Answer in tAVo weeks. 
2Lbucritscmciti 
TIT o n g E FAIR AT THE MAPLE GROVE 
.rraclv, Waterloo, Seneca, Co., 
JULY FIRST AND SECOND. 
For Premium Lists apply U JOS AVK1GHT, 
___Chairman of Committee. 
iTMIK BOOK FOR REE - KEEPERS —A practical 
work that aU can understand, giving full directions for 
every operation in the common and movable comb hive- 
with instructions for making them—the result of 30 years* 
experience in extensive apiaries. 881 pages—sent f ee for 
one dollar. Address M. QU 1 MJY, St. Johnsville, Montgom- 
^ Co .. N. Y.__48li-3t 
A T ,,VT EVERY farmer should 
-7V HAVE Win oe published early in June. Plain and 
Jleaxant Talk alioul A rmU. Flowers, and Farming 
By Henry Ward Beecher. 1 volume. 12ino. Price. *1 25 
Agen’s wanted, to whom a liberal discount will be given 
Copies sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt of the piicc 
Address DERBY * JACKSON, 
119 Nassau St„ New York. 
489-2t 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 46 letters. 
My 21 , 12, 27, 25, 7 is a river in Prussia. 
My 28, 17, 7, 21, 13 is a riA’er in Spain. 
My 23,12, 8 , 80, 32, 39,10,42 is a river in France. 
My 18, 20, 21, 22, 8 is a lake in Austria. 
My 19, 6 , 20, 21,38, 35 is a town in India, 
My 24,12, 44, 4 is one of the United States. 
My 2, 31, 27, 13 is a river in the United States. 
My 1 , 16, 8 , 18, 24, 43 is a town in Kentucky. 
My 32, 4, 41, 20, 23, 23, 13 is a port in Maryland. 
My 46,10.18, 44, 25 is a town in Scotland. 
My 43, 27,1, 0,11 is an island in the English Channel. 
My 34, 27, 39, 40, 45, 2, 21 is a town in Canada. 
My 29,10, 4, 39 is a town in England. 
My 18, 24, 85 is a totvn in India. 
My 36,14, 25, 39, 8 , 9 is a town in China. 
My 5, 36, 25, 7 is a river in England. 
My 23,14, 36, 25, 39, 27 is a river in South America. 
My 15, 8 S, 25, 16,14, 27, 26 is a town in South America. 
My 38, 17, 37,11, 44, 39 Is a totvn in the United States. 
My whole is one of the Proverbs of Solomon. 
Oakville, C. AV., 1859. A. J. Doty. 
{2P" Anstver in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ENIGMA. 
I am composed of two syllables, take ease from my 
first and empty remains; transpose my last and it is an 
intoxicating liquor; to one-half the letters in my first 
syllable, add one-third in my last, and they make three 
more than my whole. My AVhole is Avhat every person 
enjoys with a friend. A. M. A, 
Watertown, Jeff. Co., N. Y., 1859. 
Answer in tAvo weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALGEBRAICAL PROELEM. 
A person expends just £100 for live stock, consisting 
of geese, sheep, and cows ; for each goose he paid Is., 
for each sheep £1, and for each coav £5. How many 
did he purchase of each kind so as to have just 100 in 
a11 ? J. J. W, 
Harmony, Chaut. Co., N. Y., 1S59. 
AnsAver in tAvo Aveeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 488. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—Nothing suffers 
from free discussion. 
Answer to Arithmetical Problem 13 .079 plus inches 
in diameter and Avill hold 5 .3074 plus gallons. 
itJit anb £)itnnn\ 
MY WIFE. 
E. M. S. 
Most of their faults Avomen owe to us, Avhile we 
are indebted to them for most of our better quali¬ 
ties.— Lemesle. 
She tied the neAV cravat 
Which she so kindly made me ; 
Then smoothed with care my hat, 
And with her arms delayed me; 
She brushed my “ glossy hair,” 
And said “ it was so curly !” 
While going down the stair, 
She cried, “ Come home, dear, early!” 
How happy then was I, 
With all I e’er desired ; 
I fortune could defy 
While thus I was admired! 
We parted at the door— 
Her smile deserved a sonnet! 
“Dear love, hut one thing more: 
I Avaut— a new spring bonnet /” 
[Home Journal. 
IIoav he did it. —I gave her a rose and gave her 
a ring, and I asked her to marry me then ; but she 
sent them all back, insensible thing, and said she’d 
no notion of men. I told her I’d oceans of money 
and goods, tried to frighten her Avith a groAvl ; but 
she answered that she Avasn’t brought up in the 
woods to be scared by the screech of an owl. I 
called her beggar, and everything bad ; I slighted 
her features and form; till at length I succeeded 
in getting her mad, and she raged like the sea in a 
storm. And then in a moment I turned and 
smiled, and called her my angel and all; she fell 
in my arms like a Avearisome child, exclaiming, 
“We AA'ill marry this fall.” 
A Good Illustration. —In a time of much re¬ 
ligious excitement and consequent discussion, an 
honest Dutch farmer on the Mohawk was asked his 
opinion as to which denomination of Christians 
were on the light Avay to Heaven. “Veil, den,” 
said he, “ven we ride our Avheat to Albany, some 
say this road is the best, and some say dat—but it 
don’t make much difference which road we take, 
for ven we get dare dey never ask us vich vay Ave 
come —and it’s none of their bisness — if our 
wheat is good!" 
[j OMES FOR ALL! 
FOR SALE, 
At $1,25 Per Acre, desirable FARMING LANDS in 
AVes'cru Virginia, Eastern Kentucky, and Middle Tennessee. 
Abo A’uluable Lands in Sullivan and Elk Counties," 
Pennsylvania. 
Apply to the American Aid and Homestead Company, 
ho. 146 Broadway, New York. 48 Uif 
IT S. TEXT AIVD FLAG MANUFACTORY, 
* Iiocliester, IST. Y. 
TENTS AND FLAGS to Rent, suitable for Agricultural 
Fairs. Military Encampments, Conferences, Camp Meet¬ 
ings. Ac., Ac. 
Having the entire stock of Tents formerly owned by E. C 
AA iLUAMS, with several new ones in addition, I am prepared 
to fall all orders the public may feel pleased to honor me with. 
Tents and Flags of every description made to order. 
Address JAMES FIELD. 
489 _l iox 701, Rochester, N. Y. 
S TO\E YA Rl>8 — FOR 1859.— RATHBCN 4 WHIT¬ 
MORE, have always on hand a good supply of 
port and Medina Stone, Caps Sills, Platforms, Steps, 
Posts, Well and Cistern Covers, Curbing. Paving, and Build¬ 
ing Stone, Flagging—ail sizes, Fire-proof A’aults, Ac. They 
will contract for Street Improvements, generally, at home 
or abroad , and fill all orders on short notice, addressed to 
Thomas Rath bun, Buffalo, AVm. AV. Whitmore. Lockport, or 
to the subscriber, Fitzhugh St. Bridge, Rochester. 
484wc _ WM . CARSON, Agent. 
AMERICAN 
AND 
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Thr bust Combined Mowers and Reapers in tiik World. 
Simplicity; durability; convenience; adaptation to all kinds 
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sirable features are combined in the above machines. 
The American Harvester is a two horse machine capable 
of cutting from 10 to 15 acres of grass, and from 12 to 18 
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PRICES AT FACTORY. 
American Harvester as Mower.$105 00 
“ Combined.. 125 00 
Little Buffalo Harvester as Mower. 00 00 
Combined.1 100 00 
Manufactured by the Buffalo agricultural Machine 
Works, Buffalo, N. Y„ and I). M. OSBORNE * CO., Auburn, 
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Catalogue containing full descriptions of the Machines with 
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IRBY’S 
j^JAISriSTY’S COMBINED 
REAPER -A. 1ST 3D MOWER, 
WJTII WOOD'S IMPROVEMENT. 
For tire Harvest of 1859. 
The subscriber begs to inform the put lie that he continues 
to manufacture this popular machine, ami pledges himself to 
produce an implement that will fully sustain its former repu¬ 
tation, as the best combined machine yet introduced, and 
interior to none, either as a Reaper or Mower. 
It has had a steady and increasing popularity from the first, 
achieving a complete success in the first important trial at 
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The main effort during the last year has been to improve 
its mechanical construction, to make it stronger and more 
durable, and sustain its reputation as the leading and most 
acceptable machine to the largest class of farmers in the 
country. 
AVarranted capable of cutting from 10 to 15 acres of grass 
or grain per day, in a workmanlike manner. 
Brice of Machine as heretofore, varies according to width 
of cut, and its adaptation in size and strength to different 
sections of the country, from $125 to $150. delivered here on 
the cars. AV ALTER A. WOOD, 
Manufacturer and Proprietor, Uoosick Falls, N. Y. 
BENNETT GRAY. Brockport, 
WM. HENRY HARMON, Scottsville, 
483-tf._ Agents for Monroe County, N. Y. 
w 
O O D 
3VL O W E K, 
Patented February 22d, 1859. 
During the six years I have been engaged in the manufac- 
fure of ttie MannlP Combined Reaper and Mower, I have 
iven much thought and attention to the construction of what 
foresaw would be a great want of the Farmers—a lighter 
and cheaper machine expressly for mowing, than had yet 
been made. 
And now, after the most thorough and repeated experi¬ 
ments and tests in every variety of field, and in all kinds and 
in every condition of grass, 1 am prepared, with entire confi¬ 
dence, to offer to the farmers and dealers of the United 
States, the great desideratum in this department of Agricul¬ 
tural labor-saving machines—a Mower, superior in its capac¬ 
ity for good work to any hitherto introduced, of easy draft, 
light, cheep, and durable. 
This machine I now offer as my latest invention, to meet a 
special want of farmers, and to place within the reach of all, 
a Mower that for practical working, cheapness and simplici¬ 
ty, will lie without a rival. 
I build Two-Horse and One-Horse Mowers. The Two- 
JIorse Mower weighs 425 tbs., and cuts a swath four feet wide 
(or more if specially ordered.) The One-Horse Mower weighs 
30 tbs. less, (395 tt.s„) and cuts a swath three and a half feet 
wide. 
For a more full description of the Mower, reference is made 
to my Pamphlets, which will be furnished on application.— 
AVith each machine will be furnished two extra guards, two 
extra sections, one wrench and oil can. 
AVarranted capable of cutting ten acres of grass per day in 
a workmanlike manner. 
Priceof Two-Horse Mower.$80 
“ One-Horse Mower. 70 
Delivered here on the cars. 
I continue as heretofore, and with greater success than at 
any previous time, the manufacture ami sale of "Manny’s 
Patent Combined Reaper and Mower with AVood's Improve¬ 
ment.” AV ALTER A. WOOD, 
Manufacturer and Proprietor, Hoosick Falls, N. Y. 
PEASE & EGGLESFON, 84 State St., Albany, Agents for 
Albany County and vicinity. 
BENNETT GRAY', Brockport, 
AVM. HENRY HARMON, Scottsville, 
483-tf _Agents for Monroe County, N. Y. 
’I’Hi l " COLEMAN FARM MILL.—The wonder and 
J! admiration of the age; every fanner his own miller: 
GREAT SAVING OF TIME AND EXPENSE. The Ollly successful 
Metallic Mill ever invented for making Buckwheat and 
family Flour. It can be run by Horse, Steam, Wind, or 
AVater-Power. 
Price with Seive arranged, for sifting Corn Meal for family 
use while grinding,. $50 
Price with Bolting Machine attached, for making Famiiv 
Flour,. $75 
Descriptive Circulars can be had, or the Mill can be seen 
in operation at the Office of the “Coleman Farm-Mill Com¬ 
pany,” Tribune Building, No. 7 Spruce street. New York, 
where all orders will receive prompt attention. 
467-26t MARTIN THATCHER. Sec’y. 
|AME80N AND ENSIGN, ATTORNEYS AND 
COUNSELLORS AT LAAV.—Office, No. 60 Main street, 
(over Lockport Market,) Lockport, Niagara Co., N. A'. 
Iowa, Wisconsin, and Michigan lands for sale or exchange 
for real property in Western N. A'. Lords negotiated. 
A. H. Jameson. [473] A. J. Ensign. 
xmsr&art JtmsrK 
When Jemima went to school, she was asked 
why the noun bachelor was singular. “Because,” 
she replied, “ it is so very singular they don’t get 
married.” 
illooRU Bural ^faui-fjorlicr, 
THE LARGEST CIRCULATED 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Weekly, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court Douse, Buffalo St. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year — $1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows: — Three Copies one year, for $5; Six, and 
one free to club agent, for $10: Ten, and one free, for $15; 
Sixteen, and one free, for $ 22 ; Twenty, and one free, for 
♦26; Thirty-two, and two free, for $40, (or Thirty for $37,50,) 
and any greater number at same rate —only $1,25 per copy 
— with an extra copy for every Ten Subscribers over Thirty. 
Club papers sent to different Post-offices, if desired. As we 
pre-pay American postage on papers sent to the British Prov¬ 
inces, our Canadian agents and friends must add 12 'A cents 
per copy to the club rates of the Rural. The lowest price 
of copies sent to Europe, &c„ is $2,50 — including postage. 
The Postage on the Rural is ocly ZM cents per quarter 
to any part of this State, and 6 K cts. to any other State, if paid 
I quarterly in advance at the post-office where received. 
