/ 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A CHRISTMAS SKETCH. 
My brother was quite fastidious about dress. “ Mr. 
Merton is very attentive to her—how do you like 
him ?” 
“Very much! I hear that he is considered a 
talented lawyer in the city.” 
Here we were interrupted, but I was not sur¬ 
prised, when May said to me, that night, “ Mr. M. 
has asked me to ride with him to-morrow.” 
“Are you going?” “ Yes.” And she did. 
I must hurry over this part of my narrative, for 
it fills me with sorrow and remorse, that I allowed 
myself to become so dazzled by outward appear¬ 
ance as to forget that the solemn responsibility of 
guardianship over my only sister, (for our parents 
died when she wa3 quite young,) should not 
induce me to warn and advise her in time. Mr. 
Merton was very wealthy and belonged to an 
aristocratic family. 1 felt that May was good 
enough, and beautiful enough, to belong to it also. 
He remained at his uncle’s nearly a month, but 
every day there was some pleasure excursion 
planned, which brought May into his society, and 
before he left for New York they were betrothed 
lovers. 
I felt pleased and gratified with this match, 
although my woman’s intuition had discovered, at 
times, some traits of character in Edsell Merton 
which inspired nameless fears for my sister’s 
happiness; but, after all, he carried about him 
such a charmed atmosphere that these disagreea¬ 
ble impressions ever melted away in the social 
warmth of his presence. 
The summer flew by upon swift wings, and one 
September afternoon May came to me with an 
open letter in her hand. Smiles, tears and blushes 
swept over her fair face, when she said — “Oh 
Sister ! Edsell is coming out next month, and be 
wants your consent to take me back to New York 
as his bride.” 
These words fell into my heart like icy stones, 
and I clasped her in my arms, while a sharp cry 
broke from my lips. 
“ Do you feel so badly ? can’t you trust me with 
him?” 
May’s eyes looked up imploringly into mine, 
and I quickly replied, “ yes! yes ! I want to see 
you happy.” 
Preparations for the approaching wedding now 
occupied all of our time, and I had no leisure 
moments in which to indulge sad reflections. But 
when the marriage morning came, and I heard 
those solemn vows uttered which nothing but 
death could break, a wild, sad yearning came over 
me that this would prove a dream. After I had 
caught a last glimpse of the bride’s sweet face, 
and watched her snowy handkerchief waving from 
the carriage window, until lost to view by a bend 
in the road, my head fell upon Tow’s shoulder, and 
I burst into tears, exclaiming, “ We are left alone, 
now.” 
Time passed on, and every week letters arrived 
from the city, telling of the young wife’s happi¬ 
ness, and I began to feel somewhat re-assured; 
but when May came out to visit us during the 
Holidays, I noticed that her gayety was often 
forced, and this gave her an appearance of levity 
totally at variance with her former self. Edsell 
accompanied her—and I observed that occasionally 
he bestowed much attention upon May ; at these 
times the forced smile relaxed into an expression 
of quiet, subdued happiness, as if she feared to 
break the spell, but when her husband became 
gloomy and abstracted, the old anxious look came 
back to her face, and she strove to win him from 
his restraint. Poor May was a victim of caprice! 
Her nature was extremely sensitive — therefore, I 
readily conjectured what daily torture she endured 
— and this time I saw her depart with a sense of 
anguish which Tom read in my countenance. 
“What is the matter, sister? You look as if 
Edsell was carrying ‘our May’ to the church¬ 
yard.” 
“Do you think that she is happy ?” 
“ Why, yes!—how can she be otherwise with 
such a devoted husband.” 
I was not surprised at his reply, for brother did 
not possess a woman’s intuition, and I forbore to 
depress his mind with my anxious fears. 
Spring came, and with it sweet May Merton; 
but 0, so changed! “I longed to see the green 
leaves of our dear old elms, and your sunny 
smiles,” murmured the pale lips, while her slight 
form tottered into my arms. 
“You shall always stay here, darling, and I cast 
a reproachful glance at Edsell, who shrank from 
it. When we were alone together, I asked, with a 
bitter tone, why he had not informed me of our 
May’s evident decline. He seemed confused and 
made an unintelligible reply. 
Business required Edsell’s presence in the city 
at this time, and I saw him depart without regret. 
When he gave May the “good-bye kiss,” she 
wrapped her thin arms around his neck and looked 
up into his eyes with that meek, imploring gaze 
which interprets unappreciated devotion. I sighed, 
and thought of Tom’s careless words. Oh! they 
were too true. 
The weeks went slowly by, and the uncomplain¬ 
ing invalid read her husband’s occasional letters 
with fondness, treasuring each word of endear¬ 
ment. She never reproached him, or uttered one 
disparaging word against his conduct; but some¬ 
times, during her fever-dreams, she would say, 
entreatingly, “0, Edsell! you did love me once. 
I try to make home pleasant. Do not go away this 
evening!” I always avoided speaking of him, for 
it would only have embittered the closing hours of 
her life. Death had marked her for his prey—and 
a telegraphic dispatch to New York brought 
Edsell Merton just in time to hear the dying 
words of his angel-wife. There was some remorse 
visible upon the countenance of the worldly man 
as he gazed down into the large, mournful eyes 
whose brightness had faded with his love; and 
when they closed forever, a deep groan escaped 
his lips. 
We buried “our May ” in the shade of a weep¬ 
ing willow, where its slender green fingers can 
drop baptismals upon her grave, but the light 
went out of my heart when the clods fell upon her 
coffin-lid. Edsell seemed to mourn very bitterly, 
but I knew that his fickle, unprincipled nature 
would soon cast off all remembrance of that death- 
white face, and the little, stiff hands crossed over 
a heart which he had broken. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
COUNTING-HOUSE CALENDAR. 
THE FORTUNATE ISLES. 
Wno has not dreamed of the Fortunate Isles V 
Those islands of bliss and rest, 
That lie, as the olden legends tell, 
In the unknown sea of the West? 
Who has not yearned for the apples of gold 
That hang from ambrosial boughs ? 
Who has not sighed for the nectarous tide 
That from grove and from mountain flows ? 
Isles of the blest! 
Vainly sought in the purple West- 
Many a bark with a swelling sail 
The treacherous sea has tried; 
Many a mariner’s fearless breast 
The storm and the wave defied; 
And hour after hour, from dawn to dawn, 
The watch has been bravely kept; 
The master himself has sat at the helm 
While the wearied sailor slept 
But forever away, 
On waves undiscovered, the islands lay. 
•Fragrant blossoms and boughs of palm 
Have floated out on the tide, 
And birds, with the sunset fire on Iheir wings, 
Have perched on the vessel’s side; 
But never more than a rosy cloud, 
Half seen in the evening light, 
Has brought to their eager lips the cry— 
“ The isles! the isles are in sight I” 
A moment more— 
Gone was the cloud, the light and the shore! 
Last night a spirit spake with me— 
“Dost thou faint for the far-off prize? 
It is not enough to watch an wait, 
And to trnst to each wind that flies; 
In the days when all bright omens tell 
That the goal of delight is near— 
When the billows blossom with drilling flowers, 
And the birds of promise appear— 
To oars ! to oars! 
Strike boldly on to the clouded shores! 
“ For by stern and mighty spirits held, 
In a strong enchantment bound, 
No sighing hope and no yearning dream 
Can win that hallowed ground. 
But the resolute will and the daring hand, 
In the battle with angels strong, 
Shall wrest those isles from the mystery 
That has shrouded them so long. 
After the strife 
Glorious thy rest in those gardens of life!” 
O, Fortunate Isles! O, brightening realms! 
Your glories I yet may find, 
But my sails are furled—I have seized my oars, 
I have left my dreams behind, 
I have learned that watching nor prayer will give, 
The triumphs for which I long; 
Through noble toil and endeavor beam 
The beautiful shores of song. 
Enough, if at night 
I may sing—“ The isles! the isles are in sight!” 
“Wife, I declare it’s too bad; here I’ve been 
working bard all the week, and after paying out 
all I have earned, I am still a dollar in deb f , and 
to-morrow will be Christmas.” 
“Joe, you must not be discouraged; we must 
do our duty, trust in Providence, aDd be con¬ 
tented.” 
“It’s easy enough to talk about contentment; 
but when we get up in the morning, and see the 
disappointed faces of our children, who have not, 
like other children, received their Christmas pre¬ 
sents, I’m afraid we shall be far from contented.” 
“But I am prepared for that; I have been doing 
something myself, this week, as you shall present¬ 
ly see;” and going to an old bureau, she took 
from one of the drawers some money, and band¬ 
ing it to her husband, continued, “There’s my 
pay for makiDg a coat for Squire Jones ; you may 
finish paying up with part of it, and with the rest 
you can buy some presents for the children.” 
With pleasure depicted in his countenance, he 
called her one of the best of wives, and taking his 
hat departed on bis mission. 
The persons we have so abruptly introduced to 
the reader, were Joseph Stanton and his wife. 
Ten years before, Joseph Stanton, then a youDg 
blacksmith of twenty-three, had fallen in love 
with and married Mary Williams against her 
parents’ wishes. Her father, knowing Stanton 
to be a wild, dissipated fellow, very justly consid¬ 
ered that he was not worthy of being trusted with 
the happiness of his daughter. But Mary had 
perceived beneath his rough exterior a kind and 
generous heart, and had married him, thinking 
that she would control and change his habits, and 
for her disobedience had been disinherited by 
her father, who was considered the richest mer¬ 
chant in B-. Unable to effect a reconciliation, 
Stanton had removed with his wife to the village 
where they now resided, and reformed. For a 
number of years he worked on at his trade, and 
accumulated quite a sum of money by his own in¬ 
dustry and the economy of his wife, when there 
came a crash among business men, and one morn¬ 
ing he awoke to find himself pennyless; but with 
a stout heart, cheered on by his ever-loving and 
sympathizing wife, he continued to work away at 
the anvil, though the times were hard, and ob¬ 
tained but a meager subsistence until the Christ¬ 
mas Eve when he is introduced to the reader. 
The next morning, as Joseph Stanton and his 
wife were seated around the breakfast table, sur¬ 
rounded by the happy faces of their children, they 
were startled by hearing some one knocking at 
the door. It was instantly opened, and a richly 
dressed stranger entered and took the proffered 
seat. 
“Do I have the honor of addressing Mr. Joseph 
Sta'nton ?” be asked, as soon as he became seated. 
“ That is my name, sir,” answered Stanton. 
“You were formerly a resident of B-, were 
you not?” 
“ Yes, sir; I left there some ten years since.” 
“Wall, Mr. Stanton,.I am a lawyer from that 
place, and have documents here which I would 
like to have you examine.” 
The summer previous to the date of my sketch, 
there had been erected a large and magnificent, 
dwelling house in the village where Stanton 
resided, but who it was built for, or who by, 
nobody had been able to ascertain. The workmen, 
who were all strangers, had begun the work and 
finished it, the house had been filled with costly 
furniture, and still the prying villagers obtained 
no clue to the mysterious structure. 
Joseph Stanton took the papers handed him by 
the lawyer, and found them to be two deeds—one 
for the strange dwelling, the other for the shop, 
where, the day before, he had been a hired work¬ 
man. Hardly crediting bis senses, he asked the 
stranger to explain. 
“ I cannot, now,” said lie, “ but if you and your 
family will get ready and go up to the house with 
me, I will make it all plain to you.” 
Soon they were all ready, and a few minutes’ 
walk brought them to their destination, where 
they were surprised to see a smoke ascending 
from the chimney of the hitherto unoccupied 
house. As they ascended the steps, the door was 
thrown open, and an old lady and gentleman 
advanced to meet them. With the simple excla¬ 
mation, “ My Mother,” Mary threw herself into 
the old lady’s arms, where she was soon sobbing 
like a child. 
Mr. Williams, hearing of the reformation of 
JosEPn, and his untiring industry, had relented, 
and concluded to spend the remainder of his days 
with Mary, who was now his only child. It was 
a happy day for them all, and when, in the even¬ 
ing, they invited their friends in to have a good, 
old-fashioned “ house warming, ”, Mr. Williams 
gamboled al^out the room with his new-found 
grand children, and with them seemed to live over 
again the days of his youth. G. H. Worden. 
Prospect, N. Y., 1859. 
I860. 
18G0. 
January 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGBAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
August. 
February, 
I am composed of 57 letters. 
My 32,11, 20, 33, 25 is a town in Ohio. 
My 5, 2, 33, 21,14, 46 is a river in Oregon. 
My 8, 30, 9, 15, 84, 55 is a lake in Minnesota. 
My 10,16,19, 36, 43, 34,10, 27 is one of the U. States. 
My 47,17,12, 35,1,14 is a town in Georgia. 
My 4, 7, 6, 29, 30, 20, 26 is the Capital of one of the Uni¬ 
ted States. 
My 13, 38, 28, 31,19 is a town in Virginia, 
My 10, 40,10 is a river in Virginia. 
My 23, 49, 50, 87,19, 24 is a lake in Texas. 
My 30, 41, 50, 22, 45, 44, 38 is an island in the Gulf of 
California. 
My 39, 54, 55,1, 56, 57, 45 is a town in New York. 
My 42,13, 53, 50, 51, 34 is a town in Upper Canada. 
My 19, 9, 46, 5, 52, 41, 40,18, 57 is the Capital of one of 
the United States. 
My whole is a rule that will be readily and strictly 
adopted by all true and honest men. 
Alfred Centre, N. Y., 1859. A Subscriber. 
JUT"Answer in two weeks. 
September 
March 
11 1213141516 17 
18,1:120 21 22 23 24 
25 26 27 28 29 30 31 
8 9-10:11 1213 14 
15 16 17:1819 20 21 
122 23124 25 26 27 28 
'October 
April. 
November, 
December, 
June. 
s Notices 
TERMS OF THE RURAL FOR 1860. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS. 
Single Copy, One Year, ... $2 
Three Copies, “ ... §5 
Six “ and 1 free to Club Agent, gilO 
Ten. “ “ “ “ 815 
Fitteen “ “ “ “ 821 
Twenty “ “ “ “ 825 
And any additional number at the latter rate—only 
81-25 per copy!—with an extra free copy for every 
Ten Subscribers over Twenty. Club papers sent to 
different post-offices, if desired. 
%3g~ As we pre-pay American postage on papers 
sent abroad, Canada subscribers should add 12K cts. 
per copy to above club rates. 
Eg'* Subscriptions can commence with the Volume 
or any Number. No deviation from our Terms. 
EXTRA INDUCEMENTS 
TO AGENTS AND ALL WHO FORM CLUES EARLY. 
OP Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
In addition to the free copies offered according to 
our Terms , we will give to eacu of the One Hun¬ 
dred Persons sending the first lists of Thirty or 
more Yearly Subscribers to the Eural after this 
date (remitting payment at our club rate — $1 25 
per copy,) a bound volume of the Rural for either 
1858 or 1859, price $3,— or $2 in A g. Books, post-paid. 
To each of the One Hundred Persons sending the 
first lists of Ten or Fifteen Yearly Subscribers as 
above, remitting payment according to our terms, 
we will give either another extra copy of the Rural, 
or $1 50 in Ag. Books, postpaid, or a Gross of the 
Washington Medallion Pens, post-paid, as preferred. 
Still More Liberal l—In addition to any extra 
copies or Gratuities to which persons may be entitled 
from the above offers, we will give an unbound but 
perfect Copy of the Tenth Volume of the Rural (for 
1859) to every one who remits (previous to Christmas 
Day, 1859,) either $5 for 8 copies, $10 for 0, $15 for 10, 
$21 for 15, or $25 for 20 copies. Finally, in 
addition to what is above offered, we will give to each 
of the Twenty Persons remitting payment for the 
first lists of Seventy-Five or more Yearly Sub¬ 
scribers after this date, a Copy of WEBSTER’S 
UNABRIDGED DICTIONARY — New Pictorial 
Edition, containing 1,5 00 Illustrations.— 
[Crown Quarto —1,700 ptages.] 
I am composed of six letters. 
My 4, 8, 5 is a great nuisance. 
My 1, 2, 3, 5 is useful in the kitchen. 
My 5, 3, 4 is used on ships. 
My 5, 2, 3 is easily made. 
My 5, 2, 8, 4 angels love to see. 
My 6, 5, 8, 4, 2 betokens ill-breeding. 
My 6, 2, 3, 5 is part of a carriage. 
My whole has long been the sport of the unfeeling, 
and a target for the most reckless archers the world 
has ever produced. H. R. 8. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CARPENTERS’ PROBLEM. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
OUIl MAY.—A SKETCH. 
Required the shortest rule for computing the length 
of a brace answering to equal distances on a beam and 
post of a building; or, which is the same thing, for 
computing the length of the diagonal of a square when 
the side is given. 
Example.— Required the diagonal of a square whose 
side is 42 inches. Philo. 
Corn Valley, N. Y., 1859. 
E®—Answer in two weeks. 
She was a lovely girl! my sister May — and 
whenever she swept up the broad aisle of the vil¬ 
lage church, there were many lingering glances 
bestowed upon her; sometimes, I would hear with 
pride, the whispered ejaculation, “ how beautiful 
she is!” But one Sabbath afternoon a strange 
gentleman occupied a neighboring pew, and I 
knew by the prolonged gaze of those handsome 
black eyes, that my pretty sister had made another 
conquest. She did not appear wholly ignorant of 
this, for when I mentioned it to her, after our 
return home, a conscious blush accompanied her 
words. 
“Addie Williams told me, yesterday, that she 
expected her cousin Edsell Merton every hour.” 
“Indeed! — he is from New York then; I 
thought that his manners bore the city polish.” 
“ He did not appear like a fop.” 
“I inferred from this remark, that the gentle¬ 
man interested May more than she would care to 
divulge. “ This mutual admiration will not end 
here,” was my inward conclusion—and I was right, 
for the next afternoon our friend Addie called 
upon us, accompanied by her cousin. There was 
a rosy, wavering color upon May’s cheeks, which 
made her appear more lovely than usual when she 
was introduced to the city gentleman, and I saw 
that her trim, “ mouse-like ” slipper, and delicate 
tapering hand, also attracted their due share of 
• notice. 
Mr. Merton was a very fascinating young man, 
and I thought that he felt conscious of this power— 
as what man or woman does not who possesses it ? 
He was very social, and soon made us feel at ease 
in his society—for his manners were free from 
ostentation or a desire to appear our superior. I 
liked him, and May’s unsophisticated heart was 
captivated by his marked attentions to her charm¬ 
ing self. The following morning she bounded into 
my room with a dainty note in her hand, and 
there was a joyous light beaming from her blue 
eyes. “ O Sister ! we are all invited to a Pic-nic 
to-morrow afternoon. Addie says that it is quite 
a sudden affair, for they want to make Mr. Mer¬ 
ton’s visit agreeable. It is to be quite select, too. 
The Adam’s are invited, and Squire Edmond’s 
young people; the Gordons, Elders, and Isabel 
Ralway, with her cousins, who are down from 
Utica on a visit. That is all beside us.” 
Mr. William’s farm was a quarter of a mile 
from our quiet country village, and his beautiful 
house was situated in a grove, upon the banks of 
a small lake. Here the pic-nic was held the fol¬ 
lowing day; and for once our enjoyment proved 
greater than anticipation had pictured. It was a 
bright June day, and, looking back upon it now, 
I do not wonder that my memory framed it and 
hung it upon her walls. 
Brother Tom drew me aside once during the 
afternoon, arid whispered—“ Our May is the belle 
, to-day. Don’t she look like a dainty butterfly in 
I that blue barege, with the delicate lace trimmings?” 
PUBLISHER’S SPECIAL NOTICES. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &C., IN NO. 518. 
I’i.kask forward names of subscribers for 1860 as fast 
as convenient, as we are already typing the list for Mailing 
Machine. All who compete for first lists, offered above, are 
informed that there is yet time. Those competing for the 
Christmas Gifts are advised (in answer to inquiries) that 
they can send on part of their lists now, and remit pay 
(with the remainder) on or before the 2 tjth Distant. ' 
tST" Voluntary Agents for the Rural.— Any and every 
Subscriber, Post-Master or reader is requested to act as vol¬ 
untary agent for the Rural, by forming clubs or otherwise. 
Now is the time for its friends to manifest their interest in 
the paper and the cause it advocates, either by obtaining 
new subscribers, or inducing others to act in its behalf. If 
any lose or wear out numbers in showing the paper,— 
that’s the best way to get subscribers, —we will duplicate 
them in order to make their files complete for binding. 
tW" Associated Effort leads to success in canvassing for 
periodicals, as well as in other enterprises. For instance, 
if you are forming (or wish to form) a club for the Rural 
New-Yorker, and cannot fill it up in your own neighbor¬ 
hood, get some person or persons a few miles distant to join 
with or assist you —adding their names to those you may 
procure, and sending all together. Please think of this, and 
act upon the suggestion if convenient. 
tSF Specimens Free.—W e always take pleasure in send- 
ng specimens free of charge. Reader, if you have any 
friends, near or distant, that you think would subscribe for 
the Rural, or act as agents, please give us their addresses 
and we will send them specimens, &c. No matter how 
many names—" the more the merrier.” 
IW No Traveling Agents are employed by us, as we 
wish to give the whole field to local agents and those who 
form clubs. And beside, we wish it distinctly understood 
that all persons traveling through the country, professing 
to hold certificates from ARE IMPOSTORS. 
ZST" Any person who remits pay for a club of 6,10 or 15 
at the specified rates for such club, and adds a sufficient 
number within one month thereafter, can avail himself of 
the advantage of the price of large club, and retain the 
amount overpaid. 
ZW" The Rural is published strictly upon the cash 
system— copies are never mailed to individual subscribers 
until paid for, (or ordered by a responsible agent,) and 
always discontinued when the subscription term expires. 
Our published terms will be strictly adhered to, and 
no one has authority from us to »ffer the Rural at less than 
our rates. The Rural is not a “ dollar paper,” as $1,25 is 
the lowest club rate, even if a thousand copiss are taken. 
Sj?~ Any person so disposed can act as local agent for 
the Rural, and those who volunteer in the good cause will 
receive gratuities, and their kindness be appreciated. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus in No. 518:—Steamer 
Eclipse, Sturgeon, Commander, leaves Falls City for 
Crescent City, at 10 o’clock A. M. 
Answer to Biographical Enigma:—What shall it 
profit a mail if he gain the whole world and lose his 
own soul? Washing-ton; Gold-smith; Hal); Part¬ 
ridge; Fowler; Long-fellow ; Mil-ton ; Hart; Wil-son ; 
Pat-ten ; Hood; Hull. 
Answer to Puzzle:—I understand your overture, and 
will undertake to watch over you if you will undertake 
to watch over me. 
tD it onh fjumor 
PERMANENT INVESTMENTS, 
We find the following commercial dissertation 
in the financial column of the Independent: 
Investing in champagne at $2 a bottle—an acre 
of good government land costs $1 25. 
Investing in tobacco and cigars, daily, one year, 
$50—seven barrels of good flour will cost $49. 
Investing in “drinks” one year, $100 — $100 
will pay for ten daily and lifteen weekly peri¬ 
odicals. 
Investing in theatrical amusements one year, 
$200—$200 will purchase an excellent library. 
Investing in a fast horse $500—400 acres good 
wild land cost $500. 
Investing in a yacht, including bettings and 
drinkings for the season, $5,000—$5,000 will buy 
a good improved country farm. 
Panics, hard times, loss of time, red faces, had 
temper, poor health, ruin of character, misery, 
starvation, death, and a terrible future, may be 
avoided by looking at the above square in the lace. 
A majority of “ financiers,” in making calcula¬ 
tions for the future, watch the importations, ex- 
poits of specie, the ups and downs of stocks, and 
the movements of the Wall street bulls and bears. 
All that is very well; but let them, at the same 
time, estimate the loss of gold in the maelstrom 
of extravagance.” 
Music. — Music is the soprano, the feminine 
principle, the heart of the universe; because 
it is the voice of love—because it is the highest 
type and aggregate expression of passionate at¬ 
traction, therefore it pervades all space, and trans¬ 
cends all being, like a divine influx. W’hat tone 
is to the word, what expression is to form, what 
affection is to thought, what the heart is to the 
head, what intention is to argument, what insight 
is to policy, what religion is to philosophy, what 
moral influence is to power, what woman is to 
man, is music to the universe. Flexible, graceful 
and free, it pervades all things, and is limited to 
none. It is not poetry, but the soul of poetry; it 
is not mathematics, but it is in numbers, like har¬ 
monious proportion in cast-iron; it is not paint¬ 
ing, but it shines through colors and gives them 
their tone; it is not dancing, but it makes all 
graceful motion; it is not architecture, but the 
stones take their places in harmony with its voice, 
and stand in “petrified music.” In the words of 
Bettini, “Every art is the body of music, which 
is the soul of every art; and so is music, too, the 
soul of love, which also answers not for its work¬ 
ings, for it is the contact of divine with human.” 
— Mrs. Child. 
“Doctor,” said a man to Abernethy, “my 
daughter had a fit, and continued for half an 
hour without knowledge.” “ Oh,” replied the 
doctor, “never mind that; many people continue 
so all their lives l” 
“ What is the best guard against any attack?” 
said a pupil in the art of self-defence to his 
teacher—a noted pugilist. “ Keep a civil tongue 
in jour head,” was trie unexpected and significant 
reply. 
“Husband, I wish you would buy me some 
pretty feathers.” “Indeed, my dear little wife, 
you look better without them.” “ Oh, no, sir, 
you always call me your little bird, and how does 
a bird look without feathers ?” 
“ Pa,” asked Master Charley, at breakfast, 
“ what is French for an egg ?” “ An egg, my boy, 
is un-otuf.” “ Well,.”, said the young rougue 
immediately, “ an egg is not enough for me, for I 
want two!” 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LARGEST CIRCULATED 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Weekly, 
18 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Terms, In Advance: —Two Dollars a Ykar — $1 for 
six months. For Club Terms, &c„ see above. 
The Postage on the Rural is only 3 'A cents per quarter 
to any part of this State, and 6'A cents to any other State, if 
paid quarterly in advance at the post-office where received. 
