MOONLIGHT PICTURES. 
O, moonligiit, making pictures bright 
Upon my parlor wall— 
Thou bringest to me a childish voice. 
A gentle, timid call 
Of one who, with her little face 
Pressed ’gainst the window-pane, 
■Would call throughout the twilight-time, 
“ O, moonlight, come again 
And make bright pictures on my walll” 
And when the drooping trees 
Were parted by the moaning winds 
That came up from the seas, 
And quivering bare of silver light 
Were moving o’er the wall — 
The shadows of the houghs without, 
And e’en the blossoms fall — 
She’d try to grasp those shining rays, 
And, in that soft, bright light. 
She looks as now - unseen she walks 
WithaDgels robed in white. 
I almost see her upturned face, 
Her large and wondering eyes, 
A watching now the fleecy clouds 
Go sailing up the skies. 
I almost hear those childish words— 
They soolhe my hearts deep pain— 
As clouds go drifting o'er the moon, 
“ O, pictures, come again! 
O, whispering winds and sobbing seas, 
I listen —now she’s dead ; 
Iler little voice filled all my heart, 
1 heard Bot what ye said. 
O, moonbeams, rest upon the grave 
Where my blue-eyed baby sleeps; 
But come not fo the dreary walls 
Wherein a mother weeps. 
[Home Journal. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MABEL VINCENT’S WARNING. 
BY KATE CAMERON. 
“There! Harry, that is what I call a model 
husband,” said the young and beautiful Mrs. Vin¬ 
cent, looking through the half drawn Venetian 
blinds of their pretty cottage parlors, at a stately 
mansion across the way, the owners of which were 
just seating themselves in their elegant carriage 
for their evening drive. 
“ There’s Mr. Lawrence, who thinks all the 
world of his wife, I’m sure he does, for there’s no 
end to the splendid silks he buys her; and then, 
whenever she chooses, she can have him to wait 
on her to rides, or to parties, or the opera, and 
you never go anywhere with me/” 
“And does my little wife think I love her less 
because I cannot, like that millionaire over the 
way, devote myself exclusively to her service?” 
Harry spoke kindly, and threw his arm care¬ 
lessly about his wife. 
At any other time, Mabel would have answered 
him with a kiss, and dropped the subject at oiLe, 
but low the spirit of discontent was aroused, *nd 
she replied, pettishly, “No doubt you do love me 
Harry, — but one likes some proofs of affection 
occasionally.” 
“And am I not working for you all the while, 
darling?” was the response; “but,” he added, a 
little sternly, “you shall have proofs — you shall 
have substantial proofs.” 
And before Mrs. Vincent could speak, her hus¬ 
band had gone back te the store,— gone without 
the “ Good-night kiss,” never before omitted since 
he brought his bride to their humble but tasteful 
home — gone, with a weight upon his buoyant 
spirits, and a heavy feeling in his heart to which 
he was all unused. 
And Mabel? At first she strove to justify her¬ 
self for her cruel words. “ At any rate I only 
spoke the truth. Harry never does go anywhere 
with me, he is always delving in that old store; 
and ODly to-night when I asked him for that blue 
silk, he told me he couldn’t afford it. I used to 
think merchant’s wives could always have their 
choice out of their husband’s stock of goods, but 
here, I’ve only had a two shilling gingham, and a 
four shilling berege this Summer, while Mrs. 
Lawrence has had at least a dozen beautiful and 
expensive dresses. Ob, dear! it is too bad!” and 
Mabel Vincent leaned her head upon her hand 
and wept. 
From this painful reverie she was aroused by a 
ring at the door; it was John, her husband’s clerk, 
who brought a package from the store for Mrs. 
Vincent. It contained the coveted blue silk, with 
the rich trimmings she had so earnestly desired. 
Surprised and delighted, Mabel carefully examined 
the costly fabric, now throwing it ever a chair, 
and walking away the better to mark its ef¬ 
fect— then standing before the mirror, she held 
the folds around her form, and smiled to see how 
very becoming it would be to her clear complexion 
and golden hair. 
She had not finished admiring it, when her hus¬ 
band entered and she ran to him eagerly, and 
would have expressed her gratitude by a loving 
embrace, had he not repulsed her with the cold 
words, “I presume you would prefer more sub¬ 
stantial proofs of my love than silly kisses, which 
mean but little; in future you shall be gratified.” 
And from that hour there was a perceptible 
change in the lives of Harry and Mabel. Scarce 
a day passed that some costly gift was not added 
to the toilette and ward-robe of Mrs. Vincent — 
jewels, such as she had sighed to possess, glittered 
upon her fingers—rich silks were bought and 
made, and worn, without affording her the pleas¬ 
ure that she used to feel in her simple muslins and 
ginghams. 
Ere long they left their little cottage, embow¬ 
ered in flowers and trees, for a stylish mansion 
“up town,”—they gave dinner parties, and soirees 
—they even owned a carriage, and dashed proudly 
by their old neighbors, the Lawrences. 
But was Mabel happy? Did the longed-for 
wealth and its numerous appliances yield her true 
happiness? Ah, no! she wearied, even to satiety, 
of the heartless show aod ceremony by which she 
was surrounded — she pined for the quiet comfort 
which had been hers in their cottage home, for 
then Harry was all devotion to her; now he never 
spent an hour of pleasant converse with her — be 
had no time for that — be was “a man of the 
world,” she a “fashionable lady”—he no longer 
called her “Mabel,” or “ Darling,” it was “ Mrs. 
Vincent,” lor she was the same cold and haughty 
person to him, that she was to the world, and it 
she smiled, ’twas as she did all other things, a 
studied efl'ort. There were no more ringing laughs 
heard, te'hng of a light and joyous heart. All 
was cold and glittering, as an iceberg in the sun¬ 
shine. 
Meanwhile, there was some speculation among 
the inhabitants of the goodly city, where dwelt 
our friends, as to the sudden change in the life of 
the Vincents. Some shook their heads wisely and 
declared it boded no good; they used to think 
Harry Vincent a prudent business man, and one 
well-to-do in the world, but he was getting to be a 
sad spend thrift, and could not long maintain such 
an extravagant style. Others hinted plainly about 
his ill-gotten gains, and neglected business; until 
at last, the dreadful conviction wa3 forced upon 
Mabel’s mind, that her husband, whom she had 
be'ieved to be the very soul of honor, had sunk to 
the level of a common gambler! Nor was the 
kindred vice of intemperance long in making of 
him another victim. Night after night would he 
enter his dwelling, with blood-shot eye, and flush¬ 
ed countenance, telling too plainly of the midnight 
revel. And poor Mabel would weep bitterly over 
the ruin of his noble manhood. Expostulation 
and entreaty were alike in vain. Her own hand 
had given the first impulse, and now she had no 
power to stay the course of events which were fast 
hurrying to destruction all that had been dearest 
to her. 
But the crisis came. Debts of honor, which he 
had not the means to cancel, accumulated on Mr. 
Vincent’s hands. Night after night, day after 
day, he played and lost; the fates seemed against 
him. At length, driven to desperation, by the 
taunts of bis successful opponent, to whom he was 
indebted for many thousands, he plunged the as¬ 
sassins knife into his heart, as they were both 
leaving the saloon where Vincent had staked and 
lost his all. 
Rushing through the deserted streets with the 
frenzy of a madman, Harry Vincent entered his 
house, and hurrying to his wife’s dressing-room, 
where she was laying aside the costly raiment she 
had just worn at a fashionable levee, be rudely 
seized her arm, and drawing the blood-stained 
dagger from his vest, he exclaimed vehemently, 
“Here, Mabel Vincent, is the proof of my love 
for you 1 You asked for proofs, and I have given 
them. I have perjured my very soul for you. 
Step by step, have I gone down—down—from the 
respectable and honorable position I once enjoyed ; 
I have become a gambler,—a drunkard,—and,” 
he added in a low, hissing voice, “a murderer! 
Mabel, the officers of justice will soon track my 
footsteps; they will arrest me, and I shall offer 
no resistance. I will pay the penalty of my crime 
with the life which - is a burden to me, and when 
all is over,—when your husband has suffered an 
ignominious death, — then, Mabel Vincent, do 
not say I never gave you any proofs of my love! 
At your hands will God require my soul, for jou 
have been my destroyer!” 
With a loud cry, Mabel sunk fainting at his 
feet,—and just at that moment she heard a cheer¬ 
ful voice exclaiming, “What! darling, have you 
been asleep? I didn’t think ’twas so late;” and 
Mabel opened her eyes to gaze upon the frank 
and beaming countenance of her husband, and to 
realize with a grateful heart that she had been 
d/reaming! They were still the humble, but 
happy and honorable inmates of the cottage; the 
princely mansion, and all its gilded misery, had 
faded into the shadowy tissues of a vision. She 
looked in vain for the blue silk, which had been 
the token of the first downward step, and with 
tears of mingled penitence and thanksgiving, she 
bounded to her husband’s side, and throwing her 
arms around his neck, exclaimed, “Oh! Harry, 
forgive me; I have been so miserable since you 
went away, and I spoke so unkindly to you,—can 
you forget it all, and love your wayward Mabel 
still?" 
Harry sealed the ready pardon with a fond 
kiss, then added in a serious tone—“Yes, Mabel, 
I do forgive you, though it grieved me to hear 
you complain to-night, and to know that all my 
labor for our mutual happiness and prosperity 
failed to satisfy you of my affection. But I see 
how it is—you did not really mean what you said; 
’twas but a passing whim, not the sober conviction 
of my true-hearted wife. We will still be happy 
in our little home, and bye-and-bye you shall have 
all you wish.” 
“ I have it now,” was Mabel’s earnest response. 
“Your love, dear Harry, is worth more than gold 
and gems to me. I would not give it in exchange 
for the wealth of the wide world.” 
Thus vanished the clouds which had threatened 
to obscure the peaceful sky of their married life, 
and again the sunshine of Love and Confidence 
illumised their hearts, while the rainbow of Faith 
and Hope spanned their pathway. 
Not very long afterwards, Mr. Vincent, having 
completed a profitable business transaction, told 
his wife that now he thought he could afford that 
blue silk she had so much desired. 
“No, Harry, not for the world,” she answered, 
with an involuntary shudder. “I could never 
bear to wear that dress!” 
“Very well, I’ll not compel you to, my dear,” 
was the rejoinder; “ but I thought you wished it 
above all things.” 
“ Oh, so I did, once, but I was shown the folly 
of my vanity and ambition; and now I do not 
wish to dress above my station, or lavish your 
hard-earned dollars upon a fashionable wardrobe.” 
Harry’s eye3 thanked his thoughtful wife, 
though he said not a word, and as she had never 
related her dream to him, he was somewhat at a 
loss how to account for the sudden change in her 
tastes and feelings. Very gratifying it was to 
him, however; and the consciousness that his 
efforts were appreciated by her he best loved, 
nerved him to fresh exertion. Success attended 
his career, ancjlt the gliding years found him rap¬ 
idly advancing in the esteem of the wise and good, 
as well as risit; Vu the sca’e of worldly prosperity. 
Hus gentle wilie ras to him, meanwhile, a blessing 
and an aid.; Her love and her sympathy were 
never withl/ield, and after they had, in reality, 
exchanged /the home of their early married life, 
for one moye befiUiDg their social rank, and were 
surrounded by all the luxuries that wealth could 
procure, Mabel Vincent still retained the child¬ 
like simplicity and earnest truthfulness that had 
first won the love of her kind and noble husband. 
Eoch<‘«ter, N. Y., 1859. 
SINFUL HOUSEKEEPING. 
It was a busy day with me. How many such 
did every week bring with it! Morning “chores” 
in abundance—little lunch baskets to prepare for 
school—little faces and hands to wash—refractory 
hooks, missing buttons, knotted strings, all to be 
arranged at the moment. Fretful baby to quiet 
and amuse—an early dinner to get—table provision 
to be made for company, upon the shortest notice 
— house to be set in order to receive them — and, 
worse than all, as a sharp goad in the side, under 
all this burden, lay that easily-besetting but care- 
fully-concea’cd sin, the determination that every¬ 
thing should be done with just so much nicety and 
exactness as I deemed essential to “good house¬ 
keeping.” 
Surely never before was baby half so irritable as 
this day !—never half so unwilling to sit upon the 
carpet and please himself. I had some misgivings 
as I remembered the difficulty with which he had 
cut the former teeth, and the possibility of a return 
of the convulsions; yet how many items, in the 
order and arrangement of my house, must I neg¬ 
lect, if I gave my time to him? And the rest of 
the children, too—it seemed as if they would never 
get off to school. Books mislaid—slate lost—and 
excuse wanted for a deficient composition! I 
thought Job certainly had never tried a mother’s 
perplexities, when he won the palm for patience. 
Yet, secretly, conscience was worrying me sorest 
of all—for if I would but omit the polishing of cer¬ 
tain articles of table use, upon which I was bent, I 
knew I might soon find little Emma’s book, and as 
for Charlie’s slate, I remembered that some little 
school mates were amusing themselves with it the 
day before, seated in the wood-shed, where no 
doubt it was left. But I was too much provoked 
by the successive vexaifon» to be willing to redeem 
his carelessness so easily. 
As the children left the house, Emma’s sobs bad 
not ceased. Anna was cross at the long delay. 
But Charlie turned his large, loving eyes upon his 
mother’s vexed and care-worn countenance, and 
murmured such a cautious, sad “good-by, ma,” 
that the words fairly stung me. An angel’s reproof 
lay all over that fair young face, with its earnest 
gaze! With nervous haste, I buried myself in 
domestic concerns. 
At last, although fatigued, heated and restless in 
spirit, all was completed. Each room had received 
the last touch; every desired arrangement had 
been brought about—even baby bad dropped in a 
quiet sleep. Before tb^urrival of my guests, and 
for a short interval^Mfc^ conscious of one of 
those pauses in which Be soul is ready to speak. 
Just then, walking sj^ly acrcks the ri-om to 
replace i* broom, which Md* been ia use, I observed 
a shred or string Jyin*' upon the carpet. Sur¬ 
prised that even this small remnant of untidiness 
should be left, where I thought all had been in 
complete order, I paused, and set about removing 
the intruder. I swept—but it remained. Stoop¬ 
ing down to pick it up with my fingers, I found it 
— a sunbeam!—a tiny, sweet beam had stolen be¬ 
tween the darkened blinds and actually nestled in 
the carpet, when bustle and hurry, and annoy¬ 
ances had banished every vestige of sunshine from 
the heart. A light from that peaceful sunbeam 
shone into my deepest soul, as if it were a light¬ 
ning’s flash that had poured in upon me. 
In my ignorant nicety, I bad been trying to 
sweep away a sunbeam from the carpet! Oh, how 
many bright beams had I, on that very day, swept 
and washed and cleaned out of my house! The 
faces of my little children peered up from the ray 
on the floor, and—how they did plead to a mother’s 
heart. The soothing, forbearing tone with which 
my husband had met the fretful complaints of the 
morning—this, too, spoke out from the little sun¬ 
beam. I quivered under the sound of it. No 
angry reproofs could have pierced my heart with 
half so many sorrows! As all my folly and ingrati¬ 
tude stood unmasked before me, my anguish was 
inexpressible. Sinking into a chair, I buried my 
face in my hands, and while the scalding tears 
flowed, such prayers went up from my aching 
heart as, I trust, have never been forgotten or lost. 
How trifling—how unimportant, now appeared 
the rain emulation which so constantly spurred 
me to anxious labors. Every household article 
might shine by the toils of neatness, but how was 
my soul, day by day, darkening with impatience, 
complaints and unthankfulDess. How small a mat¬ 
ter in the sight of God, and now in my own sight, 
was the envied reputation of a housekeeper in 
comparison with that gentle patience, that loving 
sympathy and aid, which my children required and 
deserved at my hands. I longed for their return 
from school, that I might begin to retrieve my 
injustice to them. Peace, sweet peace, how had I 
shut it out from my heart—shut it from my family 
— ah ! how busy had I been sweeping it all away! 
I love the remembrance of that gentle monitor, 
the sweet little sunbeam ! I date a renewed exis¬ 
tence from the day it strayed so unbidden into 
my parlor. I trust I have learned to devote my 
energies to a life that is satisfied aud eternal, 
rather than aim to deserve ever so well the meed 
of human applause for its own sake. I now ques¬ 
tion the virtue of that degree of household order, 
neatness, or taste, which has become so absorbing 
as to render the little kindnesses and charities of 
our home life interruptions of our main plan, 
which has usurped the chief place in our estimate 
of domestic duties—or which, if our actions are to 
judge us, would seem to constitute the most neces¬ 
sary item of our personal happiness and comfort.— 
Advocate and Guardian. 
-4-^4- 
Folks must put up wi’ their own kin as they do 
! wi’ their own noses—it’s their own flesh and blood. 
it anil f)umor. 
MisrRiNTS will present themselves in other 
columns than those of newspapers. The author 
of a temperance novel who wrote, “drunkenness 
is folly,” was horror-struck to read, “drunkenness 
is jolly.” 
A lady said to her husband, in Jerrold’s pres¬ 
ence, “My dear, you certainly want some new 
trousers.” “ No, I think not,” answered the affec¬ 
tionate husband—“Well,” Jerrold interposed, “I 
think the lady who wears them ought to know.” 
“Boy !” called out Brown, to the waiter at Sam’s. 
“Don’t call me boy, sir; I’m no boy, sir,” said the 
latter. “Then do as you’d be done by,” put in 
Brown; “and don’t call this mutton lamb any 
more!” 
“ Wife,” said a man, looking for a boot-jack, 
“I have places where I keep my things, and you 
ought to know it.” “Yes,” said she, “I ought 
to know where you keep your late hours — but I 
“ I am certain, wife, that I am right and that 
you are wrong; I’ll bet my ears on it.” “Indeed, 
husband, you shouldn’t carry betting to extreme 
lengths/” 
“The Law,” said Judge Ashurst in a charge, 
“isopen to all men, to the poor as well as the 
rich.” “And so is the London Tavern,” added 
Horne Tooke, who was present. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed o£ 22 letters. 
My 21, 20, 4, 8, 21 is a boy's name. 
My 1, 2, 20, 4,12 is a petty rascal. 
My 13, 8, 9, 22 is to be sapient. 
My 7, B, 16 is an adverb. 
My 18, 8, 21, 5, 13, 20, 8, 10, 12, 6 is an oflloer who 
watches the landing of goods at the custom house. 
My 15, 8,16, 5 is to swell. 
My 3,17 is a preposition. 
My 10,14,13 is to draw by a rope. 
My 11, 22, 2 is a domestic fowl. 
My 11,14,18 is an adverb. 
My 13, 29, 6 is the act of opposition. 
My 19, 3,1,12 is a garden tooL 
My whole is a proverb. J. H. H. 
Ilopeweil, N. Y., 1859. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yerkeac. 
PROBLEM. 
The boundaries of a certain rectangular farm, con¬ 
taining 168 acres, having been completely effaced, the 
owner requested a Surveyor to determine anew the 
magnitude and position of the bounding lines. Find¬ 
ing four trees, A, B, C, D, remaining, which were 
known to stand one on each side of the farm, be meas¬ 
ured the distances A B, B C, C D, D A, A C, aad found 
them to be 160, 120, 157 58, 40, and 171.02 rods respec¬ 
tively. Can the boundaries be determined from these 
data without the aid of a compass? What are the di¬ 
mensions of the farm? A. B. Evans. 
Madison University, N. Y., 1859. 
yW Answer in two weeks. 
Squaring the Circle.—O f course your readers are 
acquainted with the game of “squaring,” a given word, 
wmch has of late been current in society. You will 
perhaps put upon record the “squaring of the circle,” 
which I send you. It is as follows: 
CIRCLE 
I O A R U S 
RAREST 
O R B A T E 
LUSTER 
ESTEEM 
The condition of this squaring is (hat every line, hori¬ 
zontal and vertical, shall be a known word. 1 may re¬ 
mark that the reason why the circle is especially diffi¬ 
cult to equare in this way is, that in it three consonants 
come tegether-R c l; and these, of course, in raakmg 
the other words, must be followed by a vowel or a liquid. 
—Selected. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 506. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—A model of pru¬ 
dence and perfection. 
Answer to Poetical Enigma:-86 years. 
Answer to Algebraic Problem : — 907877.59G plus aores 
at $1,00 per acre. 
^mliscments. 
N OT A HUMBUG.—Wanted, one or more Young Men 
in each State to travel, to whom will be paid *30 to *75 
per month, and expenses. For particulars, address with 
stamp, 11. 15. ALLEN & CO., Plaistow, N. H. 604-13t 
nonnnn ACRES OF HAIMVIBAL AND ST. 
OUU.UUU JOSEPH RAILROAD LANDS, For Sale on 
Long Credit aDd at Low Rates of Interest. 
These Lands, granted by Congress to aid in constructing 
the Road, lie, to a great extent, within Six Miles and all 
within Fifteen Miles of the Load, which is now completed 
through a country unsurpassed in the salubrity of its Cli¬ 
mate and fertility of its Soil. Ds latitude adapts it to a 
greater variety of products than land either north or south 
of it, rendering the profits of farming more certain and 
steady than in any other district of our country. 
Its position is such as to command at Low Kates of Freight 
both Northern and Southern Markets. 
To the Farmer desiring to better his condition, to parties 
wishing to invest money in the West, or any in search of a 
prosperous Home, these Lands are commended. 
For full particulars apply to JOSIAH HUNT, 
Land Commissioner Hannibal and St. Joseph Railroad, 
505-ist Hannibal, Mo. 
PROFITABLE EMPLOYMENT! 
AN IMPORTANT WORK FOR AGENTS. 
JUST PUBLISHED, 
THE LIFE, SPEECHES AND MEMORIALS 
OP 
DANIEL WEBSTER, 
CONTAINING I1IS MOST CELEBRATED ORATIONS, 
A Selection from the Eulogies delivered on the occasion 
of his Death, and his Life and Times. 
BY SAMUEL M. SMUCKER, LL. D. 
In one large volume of 550 pages, printed on fine paper 
and bound in beautiful style; containing excellent tint 
illustrations of his Birthplace and Mansion at Marshfield; 
and a full-length, life-like Steel Portrait. The Publisher 
offers it with confidence to the, American public, and is con¬ 
vinced that it will supply an important want in American 
literature. N n woik waste be obtained heretofore, which 
presented, within a compact and convenient compass, the 
chief events of the life of Daniel Webster, his most remark¬ 
able intellectual efforts, and the most valuable and interest¬ 
ing eulogies which the great men of the nation uttered in 
honor or his memory. . 
We present all these treasures in this volume, at a very 
moderate price, and in a very convenient form. Subscrip¬ 
tion price, in clotn, *1,75; handsomely embossed leather, 
$2,00 
Sample copies sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of sub¬ 
scription price , , 
Circular, giving contents of the work, and Catalogue or 
my Publications, will be sent tree upon application. Address 
DUANE RULISO'L Publisher, 
£0C-13t 33 South Third Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 
(THREAT SALE OF REAL ESTATE 
^ WITH VALUABLE BUILDINGS, ’ 
At Olcott, Niagara Co., Oct. 18th, 1859. 
Tub Executors of the Estate of Jacob Albuioht, (<?&. 
ceased,) will sell at Public Auction, on the day above 
named, the following property, to wit: 
1st The Brick Hotel known as’lie Grove nouse, with all 
the buildines connected therewith, and about one acre of 
land. The buildings are large, nearly new, and cost some 
five or six thousand dollars. 
2d. The Steam Saw-Mill, neatly new, built by the de¬ 
ceased at a cost of four or five thousand dollars, and f ur . 
nished with power sufficient, for sawing, and other machin¬ 
ery, with land sufficient for the purposes of the mill. 
3d. Ninety-six acres of land with valuable timber, lying 
about one mile west of Olcott, known as the Hopkins Crees 
Farm. 
4th. Seventy-five acres of timbered land, lying about four 
miles southwest of Olcott. This is a valuable wood lot, ail( j 
will be sold ail together or in parcels, as we and purchases 
may ag. ee. 
5th. Two valuable village lots in West Olcott. in the cen¬ 
tre of the village, opposite ■vfessrs. Outwater’s store. Also, 
several choice lots in East Olcott. 
The property shove enumerated must he sold, and other 
valuable property will probably he offered. The village of 
Olcott is located at the mouth of the E’gbteen-MPe Creek, 
on the shore of Lake Ontario: and for beauty of scenery, 
fert'li'y of soil, salubritv of climate, good roads, water, 
fruit, freedom from frosts, drouth, or flood, the country 
around it cannot he excelled by anything in the State. All 
persons desiring to purchase will come and see. as this will 
he a rare chance for a bargain. Sale to commence at It) 
o’clock A. M. 
Terms of Sale —All sums under $1,060, one quarter down, 
and balance in three equal annual instalments, with inter¬ 
est: all sums over *1,000, one quarter down, and the balance 
in five equal annual instalments, with interest Good 
bankable paper, due in three or lour months, will he taken 
in lieu of cash, if desired. 
Any information pertaining to the above can be had by 
addressing F. N. ai.buigut, at Yates, Orleans Co., or A. T. 
Wetuerwax, at Olcott. 
F. N. ALBRTGT1T, l Executors 
501-3teow A. T. WETUERWAX,) executors. 
| J O! FOIL TKQ4 SCHOOLS! 
To tlie Children. of tire Nortli, tlie 
Sou.tli, tlie East and. tlie West. 
CLARK’S SCHOOL VISITOR, 
Volume IV. 
The October number of this popular DAY-S”TTOOL 
PAPER will he tl e commencement of the Fourth Volume. 
The Visitor is a i|U irto monthly paper, containing, in pleas¬ 
ing variety. Useful Stories, Readings. Dialogues. Poetry, 
Sketches of Travel. Music, (in round and seven-shaped 
notes,) Songs. Enigma 0 , Puzzles, Educational Ne*s, and 
Fine Engravings. During the past year, it has been our 
pleaouie to publish some of the most popular p'ects of 
music, as the eagerness with which they have been sought 
gives us evidence. 
L's’ of Songs, w'th Music, published in Volume III 
“KoshIi", the Prairie Flower;” “The Angels To'd Me So;” 
“Kind Words ’an Never Die;” “Litt’e Children, 0. I Love 
Them;’’ "Darling Ntllie Gray;” “Listen to the Mocking 
Bird;” “I Set. My Heart Upon a Flower;” “Take Me Home 
to Die;” "Wide AwaKe, Biys;” “JustTwenty KeursAgo,” 
•r “ My School-boy Days,” &c. 
Next year we shall do more than ever for our young 
friends. The Visitor has a beautifully engraved heading, 
and is printed in the best, sty’e. 
Winter Schools and Long Evenings are at Hand. 
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To Practical Teachers the Visitor is furnished at 
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Send for specimen. Address 
ALEX. CLAIIK, 
506A508 Editor and Publisher, Pittsburgh. Pa. 
F or pale, ten farms in fairf\X go., 
Va.,15 to 18 miles from Washington oRy, D O., contain¬ 
ing from 80 to 600 acres. Prices, *15 to $45 per acre.— 
Healthily located and adapted to the growth of train, gr.ss, 
fruiis. vegetables, &c. In the midst of a northern settle¬ 
ment, andahrtter market tbau New York City. For par¬ 
ticulars. address CHA RLES SUITON. 
50ii-3teow Fairfax Court House, Va. 
MAisrisrY’s combusted 
1 REAPER A.JSTTD MOWER, 
WITH WOOD'S IMPROVEMENT, 
For tlxe Harvest of 1809. 
The subscriber begs to inform the public that he continues 
to manufacture this popular machine, and pledges himself to 
produce an implement that will fully sustain its former repu¬ 
tation, as the best combined machine yet introduced, and 
Inferior to none, either as a Reaper or Mower. 
It has had a steady and increasing popularity from the first, 
achieving a comhlete success in the first important trial at 
Geneva in 1852. It carried off the highest honors at the great 
National Field TYial at Syracuse in 1857; hoc! amidst ail the 
competition and trials of 1858, came out with more and better 
established points of excellence than ever before. 
The genera) principles peculiar to this machine, and upon 
which it is constructed, have proved go successful that there 
has beeD no attempt to change them. 
The main effort during the last year has been to improve 
Its mechanical construction, to make it stronger ami more 
durable, end suv’ain its reputation as the leading an I most 
acceptable machine to the .(argeet class cf farmers !a the 
country. ... , 
Warranted capable of cutting from 10 to lo acres of grasa 
or graiD per day, in a workmanlike manner. 
Price 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. WALTER A. WOOD. 
Manufacturer and Proprietor, Hoosick Falls, N. Y. 
BENNETT GRAY, Brockport, 
WM. HENRY HARMON, Scottsvllle, , _ 
483-tf. Agents for Monroe Co unty. N. Y. 
yy O O ID » 3 M. O W HR. — 
Patented February 22d, 1859. 
During the six years I have been engaged in the manufac¬ 
ture of the Manny Combined Reaper and Mowet, I have 
and cheaper machine expressly icr mowing, man uau yea 
been made. 
And now, after the most thorough and repeated experi¬ 
ments and tests in every variety of field, and in all kinds aud 
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 desuleratwm 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 tlie reach of all, 
a Mower that for practical working, cheapness and simphoP 
ty, will be without a rival. „ 
I build Two-Horse and One-Horse Mowers, ihe Two- 
Horse Mower weighs 425 tbs., and cuts a swath .our 'fret wide 
(or more if specially ordered.) The One-Horse Mower weighs 
30. fts. less, (395 Tbs.,) and cuts a swath three and a halt reel 
W For a more full description ofthe 5fo«er, re rrencels.made 
to my Pamphlets, which will be furnished on application— 
With each machine will be furnished two extra guards, two 
extra sections, one wrench and oil can. 
Warranted capable of cutting tan acres of grass per day m 
a workmanlike manner. n 
Price of Two-Horse Mower.*»u 
“ One-Horse Mower. 
Delivered here on the cars. . 
I continue as heretofore, and with greater success than at 
any previous time, the manufacture and sale of Manny s 
Patent Combined Reaper and Mower with Wood’s Improve¬ 
ment,” ' WALTER A. WOOD, 
Manufacturer and Proprietor, Hoosick I alls, N. i. 
PEASE & EGGLESFON, 84 State St.. Albany, Agents for 
Albany County and vicinity. 
BENNETT GRAY, Brockport, 
WM. HENRY HARMON, Scottsvllle, . „ v 
483-tf Agents for Monroe County, N. i. 
lioORES”RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
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Agricultural, Literary and Family Weekly, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite tlie Court House, Buffalo St. 
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