MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
in our midst. It is ono of tho blessed fruits 
of American freedom that every individual 
of mature ago, has tho power in a measure, 
of choosing their employer; and it appears 
to me that selfishness, if no higher motivo 
exists, should induce tho mistress of a fam¬ 
ily, to show her domestics that she takes a 
personal and friendly interest in their wel¬ 
fare, and that while under her roof she feels 
a degree of responsibilty for their acts, and 
that she expects them to feel a similar inter¬ 
est. If this state of feeling really exists, 
tho domestic can scarcely fail to become 
the affectionate friend of the family, instead 
of the faithless eye-servant. A case in point 
is given in Miss Sedgwick’s interesting lit¬ 
tle volume, “ Live and Let Live,” a work 
admirably calculated to impress tho mind 
with proper ideas of the rights and wrongs 
of female servitude. 
Biddy, an Irish domestic, a protty good 
type of tho class, is recounting to a friend, 
the various trials she has encountered in 
“ Ameriky,” and goes on to say : 
“ Thin I wint to another great house, where 
I did my best, for my wages wore high and 
paid whin I asked for thim; but tho lady 
was always finding fault with my ‘Irish 
ways,’ as she called thim; and what ways 
would she have iv me, I asked her, that was 
born and bred, and passed all my happy 
life in Ireland, save ten miserable months 
and six days in Ameriky, with ladies that 
would find fault with my Irish ways, and 
niver tachcd me better ? So sho called me 
‘pertinent,’ and I looked out for another 
placo. This time my luck changed. It was 
to Mrs. Tilsorfs I went—tho Almighty bless 
her. It was but middling wages I got there, 
and plenty of work, for I was tho only one 
they kept, and ho but a book-keepor, and 
she a delicate woman, with plenty of small 
childcrs. But then sho laid out tho work 
so complately for me, and was always taking 
thought for mo, and asking when did I hear 
from mother and Judy ? and when a lettor 
came for mo there was rejoicing from tho 
top to the very lasto one in tho family. Mr. 
Tilson would say ‘ you’ve good news Biddy 
and then Mrs. Tilson, bless her sweet voice, 
‘ you’ve good news Biddy ?’ so it was handed 
down even to little Archy, that could but 
just lisp it out. Och, they were jist like 
tho angels in Heaven ; when there was joy 
with ono thero was joy with all. Every 
thing I know, I learned thero. Mrs. Tilson 
was always telling mo ‘there is a right and a 
wrong way to every thing, Biddy,’ and she 
showed me tho right way to do this, and 
tacWd mo tlio right way to do that. And 
when the bitter news of my mother’s death 
came, they all cried, and sure it lightens 
tho heart in ono, to havo others fret with 
you. Ah, if tho ladies wero the likes iv her, 
half the trouble with their people would bo 
ovor, and tothcr half would not bo to spake 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
OUR FLOWER. 
A SABBATH MORNING OF 1776. 
BY MARTHA RUSSELL. 
’Tis a beautiful spot where we laid “our flower,” 
Ono bright summer day at the sunset hour, 
Where the light glimmers through t he dark young trees, 
And the green bough waves with the gentle breeze. 
’Tis a beautiful spot, for tho first warm ray 
Of the golden sun rests there, 
And the last red tinge of departing day, 
Seems to guard it with kindly care. 
’Tis a beautiful spot, where the oak and pine, 
Their branches wave, and their forms entwine, 
Where the wild rose sweetly its fragrance gives, 
And the evergreen ever in beauty lives. 
Tis beautiful when the rising sun 
From the violet kisses the dew. 
And when the bright stars one by cne 
Appear in the Heavens blue. 
Oh, ’tis beautiful then ! when all is still, 
• Save the lonely song of the whippoorwill. 
When the silvery rays of the moonbeam pale, 
Are gilding with beauty the forest and vale : 
For a softer, holier light, seems cast 
Around this cherished spot; 
Thus angels think of “ our flower ” at rest, 
And God forgets it not. 
And fair us the morn was that gentle one, 
Who round our hearts so fondly clung, 
Like the rich warm gush of a gladsome bird. 
Were the silvery tonos of his music heard; 
And the sunlight of his happy smile, 
And the love glance of his eye, 
Yet linger to cheer our hearts the while 
O'er withered hopes we sigh. 
As the music of the lyre is hushed, 
When its chords by ruthless hands are brushed, 
So ’ueath the chilling touch of Death, 
Our loved one sighed his sweetest breath. 
We bore him away from our quiet home, 
And laid him on Nature’s breast; 
Oh ! ’tis meet that the beautiful alone 
With the beautiful should rest. 
Carlton, N. Y., 1852. Kate Woodland. 
Late in the fall of 1847, it was my good 
fortune to spend several delightful hours in 
the gallery of the “Art Union” in New 
York. Among the many exquisite pictures 
that graced its walls, was ono that particu¬ 
larly attracted my attention. Not that I 
either comprehended or was much influenc¬ 
ed by the learned and technical criticisms 
of tho connoisseurs at my elbow ; but it was 
a New England scone, “ Tho first news of 
the battle of Lexington,” by Ranney, and 
for its truth and spirit I could well vouch. 
It represented a New England landscape 
in the capricious month of April, with all 
the shows of awakening agricultural life 
and industry. A village smithy in the fore¬ 
ground, which I could have almost identifi¬ 
ed, under the projecting roof of which stood 
the brawny-armed smith himself, with com¬ 
pressed lips and knitted brows, fastening a 
shoe to the reeking horse of a courier, (how 
much more significant the old Saxon word 
lode,) who, still in the saddlo, hurriedly told 
his tale of “ fate and fear ” to the oxcited 
listeners that had already reached tho spot. 
All along tho road were seen hurrying stal¬ 
wart forms, with tho implements of toil in 
their hands ; in tho fields, tho plow and oxen 
were left midway in the furrow, while their 
master, without saddle or bridle, sprang up¬ 
on the stout farm horse, and with his strong 
hand twisted in his shaggy mane, the gears 
still trailing at his heels, and nose high in 
the air, guided him, at an undreamed of 
pace, across tho fields, and over fences, to¬ 
wards the scono of excitement. 
I know many in my native village that 
might have stood as the originals of those 
men, aye, and not a few horses that might 
upon occasion havo taken that very look 
and gait. But more than this, as I gazed 
upon that picture, the shadowy forms of tho 
white-haired fathers of our village, seemed 
to take the placo*of tho gaily-dressed peo¬ 
ple at my sido, and stand leaning, as was 
their wont, over their stout sticks, as they 
told over again their “ tales of the times of 
old.” One of theso, which that picture viv¬ 
idly recalled, and which would not be an un¬ 
meet subject for tho artist s pencil, I shall 
attempt to relate. 
Ono Sabbath morning, during tho gloomy 
summer of 1776, when the hopes ot the pa¬ 
triots seemed likely to go down into dark¬ 
ness and blood, and even tho God-sustained 
On ! say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light, 
What so proudly wc hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming ? 
Whose broad Stripes and bright Stars, through the perilous fight, 
O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming; 
And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. 
Oh ! say, does that Star Spangled Banner still wave. 
O’er the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave ? 
On the shore dimly seen, through the mists of the deep. 
Where the foe’s haughty host, in dread silence reposes ; 
What is that which the breeze, o’er the lowering steep. 
As it fitfully blows. Half conceals, half discloses ? 
Now it catches the gleam, of the morning’s first beam, 
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream. 
’Tis the Star Spangled Banner, oh ! long may it wave. 
O’er the Land of the Free, and the Home of the brave. 
And where is that band, who so vauntingly swore. 
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion, 
A Home and a Country shall leave us no more ? 
Their blood hath washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution. 
No refuge could save, the hireling and slave, 
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave. 
And the Star Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave, 
O’er the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave. 
Oh ! thus be it ever, when Freemen shall stand. 
Between their loved home, and the war’s desolation ; 
Blest with vic.t’ry and peace, may the Heaven rescued land 
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a Nation. 
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just, 
And this be our motto, “In God is our trust 
And the Star Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave, 
O’er the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISTRESSES AND DOMESTICS 
TIIEIU relations and duties. 
_and blood, and even tho God-sustained 
heart of Washington grew troubled, and al¬ 
most sank witlun him, tho people ot our 
village came up to tho house .of God with 
sad countenances and heavy hearts. News 
traveled slowly then, and they were chiefly 
indebted to such wounded soldiers as pass¬ 
ed through tho village on tho way to their 
homes, for their information of the move¬ 
ments of tho army. They knew that Wash¬ 
ington still hold New York, and tho last poor 
wounded fellow that had reached homo, had 
told a fearful tale of tho state of our own 
diminished army, and tho horde ot troops 
under the Howes, that wore gathered round 
it liko locusts. 
It was a beautiful mid-summer morning. 
Alight thunder shower, during the latter 
part of tho preceding night, had laid the 
dust and given coolness to tho air. Tho 
rain-drops still hung trembling from leaf 
and spray, and came dropping down in 
showers, as tho footsteps of pedestrians, or 
the heavy tramp of horses, bearing in most 
instances tho double burden of man and 
matron, with perchance a rosy child or two, 
startled from their quivering perches tho 
silver-throated birds. 
The grain was already harvested, but 
many fields of grass wore still standing, 
brown and sunburnt; and it was very evi¬ 
dent that many of tho crops suffered from 
the lack of proper cultivation, for many of 
the most expert wielders of tho hoe and 
scythe had already exchanged thorn for the 
musket and sword. Still, here and there a 
piece of Indian corn stood up thriftily, 
through the broad leaves ot which tho faint 
west wind rustled with a slow, murmurous 
sound, like the dropping of summer rain.— 
In tho southwest, just abovo the top of To- 
toket, appeared tho white caps of two or 
three of these singular clouds, known among 
the country peoplo as “ thunder-heads.’ — 
But the people, as they pursued their way 
along the green lanes and over the forest- 
crowded hills, had other thoughts than 
tho beauty of the landscape. Their hearts 
were with their brothers and friends ; their 
thoughts turned towards Him who is both 
ablo "to build up and cast down, before 
whoso altar they wero accustomed to cast 
all their cares and troubles. 
As with slow and reverent steps they filed 
into the meeting house and took their seats 
in tho square pews, it was easily seen that 
tho greater portion of the male part of the 
congregation consisted ot men advanced in 
years, and boys in their teens. The morn¬ 
ing servico passed as usual, and, after a short 
intermission, tho people again gathered to 
their places, and the earnest prayer was 
young woman before taking on herself tho 
responsibilities of managing a family, to pre¬ 
pare herself for discharging her duties un¬ 
derstand ingly, and faithfully. Is it unfair 
to suppose that ignoranco of, or neglect to 
perform tho appropriate duties of a mis¬ 
tress, is a fruitful source of the peculations, 
petty strifes, and concealments that too 
often exist between tho mistress and do¬ 
mestic ?— and how can it be expected, 
that such domestics as wo are obliged to 
employ, will understand therelative duties ? 
They cannot. It is therefore obviously 
necessary that they should bo taught by the 
mistress. Irish Biddy says, “ its asy learn¬ 
ing of them that’s good to us.” 
Facilities for turning their labor into more 
productive and desirable channels, with the 
influx of Irish and Dutch immigrants, has 
nearly driven American girls from our 
kitchens, and wherever you find ono in this 
situation, you will find her suffering under 
a feeling of degradation that docs not at¬ 
tach to any other employment. Many in¬ 
telligent girls will sooner wear out a feeble 
existence over the noodle, than work in a 
kitchen at higher wages and improved 
health. Has not tho cringing and obsequi¬ 
ous consciousness of inferiority, brought in¬ 
to this relation by foreigners nurtured on 
soil, a claim to which was entirely boyond 
their fondest droams, tended to this result ? 
It unquestionably has. But thero are still 
other causes that operate against tho 
adoption of this employment by capable 
girls. It is not from repugnance to tho 
taking a subordinate station that they 
object, for in our democratic country supe¬ 
rior and subordinate relations are inevitable, 
but they shrink from being subjected to 
tho caprices of an ignorant and consequent¬ 
ly imperious mistress, and becoming tho 
slave of ill-taught, or untaught children.— 
For the benefit of children themselves, they 
should bo restrained from accosting domes- 
ti'cs rudely, or encroaching on their time 
unnecessarily. They should be from earli¬ 
est infancy, imbued with the spirit, and tho 
letter of tho “ Law of Kindness,” which 
should ever find expression in their deport- 
mont towards the dependants of tho family. 
In a family where ono domestic only, is 
employed, her duties are necessarily multi¬ 
farious and perplexing. Should it not bo tho 
duty of tho mistress to Iigten her task by 
an approving word when she has done well, 
Tho same authoress, in connexion with 
the experience of Mrs. Ardley, who stifled 
the reproaches of her conscience for tolera- 
ting^drunkenness in her coolc, by saying “ I 
have spoken to her—what can I do more ?” 
asks tho following significant question; 
“ Are not the virtues and vices of domestics, 
too often requited, not in proportion to their 
deserts, hut according to the effect on the 
convenience of their employer 
Willow-dell Farm, June, 1852. 
glancing his eye over tho paper, ho laid its 
contents before tho peoplo. 
It was a pressing requisition from Wash¬ 
ington for more troops. Ho was daily ex¬ 
pecting an attack from tho combined forcos 
of tho enemy, and each town and villago 
was called upon to furnish what aid they 
could. After a few apt and eloquent re¬ 
marks on the critical situation of tho belov¬ 
ed chieftain, the worthy man continued : 
“Let us not bo too much cast down, my 
brethren. Our cause is that of truth and 
justico and righteousness-, and, strong in 
these, wc shall assuredly triumph. This 
business is urgent; and I trust it will not 
bo deemed derogatory to our Christian char¬ 
acter, nor an infringement upon tho holy 
Sabbath, if we tako such measures as seem 
most pressing, to-day. Therefore, all who 
are willing to take their lives in their hands, 
and stand by tho sido of the Commandor- 
in-Chief, in this hour of trial, will, after the 
close of theso services, pleaso range them¬ 
selves in single file, upon the villago com¬ 
mon.” 
Then with hands clasped, and raised to¬ 
wards Heaven, ho took up tho sublimo in¬ 
vocation of David: 
“ Keop not thou silence, 0 God ! hold not 
thy peace, and bo not still! 
“ For, lo, mine enemies make a tumult, 
they that liato thee havo lifted up the head. 
“ They havo taken crafty counsel against 
thy people, and consulted against thy hid¬ 
den ones. They have said, Come, let us 
cut thorn off from being a nation, that the 
namo of Israel may be no moro in remem¬ 
brance. 
“ Let them bo confounded and troubled 
forever; yea, let them bo put to death and 
COURTESIES OF TRAVEL. 
The law of tho road is not well under¬ 
stood any where. Ill-bred men presume 
upon the presenco of females in their 
charge to ask favors of other men in tho 
cars, to which thoy have no claim whatever. 
It has a churlish look, sometimes, for a man 
to refuse to incommode himself for tho con¬ 
venience of a woman, but wo often observo 
great selfishness, and a total disregard of tho 
comfort of their male fellow passengers, on 
tho part of tho “ dear creatures.” Women 
who travel a great deal are apt to contract 
a habit of exaction, and when thoy are well 
placed, often manifest supremo indifference 
as to the accommodations of those whom 
they havo dislodged. It is difficult to say 
how much a man should endure to oblige a 
female who is a stranger to him, and in 
whom ho feels no interest whatever. Wo 
do not propose to discuss a question so deli¬ 
cate. Perhaps some of our lady readers 
will determine tho point for us.— Buff. Adv. 
Strangely do people talk of getting over 
a great sorrow ! No ono ev er does that— 
at least, no nature which can bo touched by 
a feeling of grief at all. Tho only way is 
to .pass through the ocean of affliction sol¬ 
emnly, slowly, with humility and faith, as 
the Israelites passed through the sea. Then 
its very wave of misery will divide and be¬ 
come to us a wall on the right sido and tho 
left, until the gulf narrows before our eyes, 
and we land safely on the opposito shore.— 
Portland Eclectic. 
exigencies ot the times ana tno wants oi tno 
audience, was commenced. Suddenly, tho 
congregation were startled by tho heavy 
tramp of a horse, which rapidly approach¬ 
ed, and halted by tho meeting-houso door. 
In a moment tho'rider had thrown himself 
from the saddle, and stood within tho door. 
Handing a note to tho aged deacon, who 
was hurrying down the aisle to ask the causo 
of this untoward interruption, with an au¬ 
dibly whispered injunction to act with speed, 
lie as hastily mounted, and kept on his way. 
The deacon cast one glance at tho super¬ 
scription of the paper, then marched rever¬ 
ently up the pulpit stairs, and placed it in 
tho hand of tho minister, with the same 
whispered injunction. Deliberately the old 
man finished the sermon and prayer, then 
I know no manner of spoaking so offen¬ 
sive as that of giving praise and closing it 
with an exception; which proceeds (where 
men do not do it to introduce malice and 
mako calumny more effectual) from the 
common error of considering man a pei'foct 
creature. 
It is better to suffer wrong than to do it. 
