■Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THAT GENTLE STRAIN, 
Oh sing once more that gentle strain, 
And breathe its music on my car, 
For glorious visions throng my brain 
Whene'er its melody I hear : 
The golden light of summer skies 
That seemed to smile though clothed in storms, 
A bright array of beaming eyes, 
A happy group of youthful forms, 
A little home where kindness threw 
Its warmest, holiest beams around us, 
A little yard where lilies grew, 
A little room where twilight found us; 
All gleam upon my sight again, 
For then my Mother sang that strain. 
But now, my Mother, change has come, 
Departed has each rainbow hour; 
That sunny home’s no more our home, 
And earth’s received our fairest flower : 
And we thy children, older grown, 
Together seldom meet at eve, 
To listen to thy gentle tone, 
And thy advice and love receive. 
We know thy prayers by night and day 
Still unto God for us are given, 
Yet should our wayward footsteps stray, 
And lead us far from thee and Heaven, 
And thou would’st have us thine again, 
Oh! then, my Mother,’sing that strain. 
Cal ton, N. Y., Dec., 1852. Katk Woodland. 
THE POWER OF KINDNESS. 
We do not know tho origin of the follow¬ 
ing sketch. It is excellent: 
A certain individual, whom wo shall call 
Bullard, was ono of the most cross-grained 
and perverse of men. It was misery to bo 
near him. He grumbled and snarled inces¬ 
santly, and found fault with every one and 
everything around him. Nothing seemed 
to please him. He seemed to exist in tho 
perpetual foment of irascible impatience, 
uncomfortable himself, and sowing tho seeds 
of anger, fretfulnoss and discord wherever 
ho appeared. Ilis home was especially un¬ 
happy. Bitter retorts and passionate in¬ 
vectives obtained dominant sway. He con¬ 
stantly railed at his wife, and she replied in 
the same unloving strain; the children 
quickly imbibed a like vindictive habit, until 
such a thing as a pleasant look or kindly 
word was novel’ known among them. 
Ono day Mr. Bullard was returning to his 
cheerless dwelling, more feverish in temper 
than was his wont, in consoquonco of some 
disappointment, ready to vent his angry 
spleen upon his family as soon as ho arrived. 
If the supper was not ready to sit down to 
at the very moment, ho would almost turn 
the house upside down, and strike to tho 
quick with his taunting complaints. But 
chancing to approach a little sunny-haired 
girl, whoso mild blue eyes and loving face 
was such a picture of bursting kindness, as 
he had never seen before, an incident oc¬ 
curred which effected a complete revolution 
in his peevish frame of mind and planted a 
now feeling in his turbulent breast, The 
girl, and one, evidently her elder brother, 
wero playing with a small carriage, and sud¬ 
denly turning near a stone step, she acci¬ 
dentally struck tho carriage against one cor¬ 
ner, and broke it to atoms. In a passionate 
burst of anger, the boy advanced and struck 
his sistor a severo blow with his clenched 
hand and stamped his feet in a tempest of 
fury upon the ground. 
But instead of returning tho blow and 
revengeful speech, after an involuntary cry 
of pain, the noble girl laid her hand gently 
on her brother’s arm, and looking sorrow¬ 
fully in his flushed faco, softly said, “ Oh, 
brother Tom! I did not think you would do 
that.” In a moment, as if stung by a hot 
iron, tho boy shrunk back, and hung his 
head in shame and conseionce-stricken pain. 
Then said ho, “ Forgive me, Helen, I will 
never do it again.” And scarce had the 
penitent words left his lips, when his sister’s 
arms were thrown around his neck, and for¬ 
giveness sobbed on his breast. Here was a 
lesson for Bullard ! At first ho was quite 
stunned by it; he could not understand. It 
was something utterly beyond his philoso¬ 
phy. But he felt that it had somehow done 
him good. Bit by bit, as ho proceeded on, 
his own angry feelings vanished, till he felt 
calm and kindlier than ho had done before 
for years. Yos, he was softened to his 
heart’s coro, .and he felt something very liko 
moisture springing up to his eyes. 
Little noting the wonderful change which 
had taken place in her husband’s temper, 
Mrs. Bullard was dreading his arrival homo, 
for suppor was not near ready, and sho had 
had tho misfortune to burn tho cakes she 
had baked for the meal. And tho children 
copying from her, wero unusually cross and 
bad. In vain sho had scolded and whipped 
them; they only snarled and struck each 
other, and almost drove her distracted with 
their quarreling confusion. 
Mr. Bullard entered, and whatever could 
bo the matter Mrs. Bullard could scarcely 
give credit to her senses. Instead of dash¬ 
ing the door behind him with a pettish crash, 
and stamping his way forward to tho kitch¬ 
en, ho took the crying baby from its bed, 
and hushed it with'the softest and most en¬ 
dearing words he had ever used. And his 
face had a smilo on it; a real, kind, sunshiny 
smile. What strange wonder was this ?— 
Mrs. Bullard was, at first, struck quito dumb 
with astonishment, and tho children starod 
at their changed father, as if at a loss to 
make the mystery out. Ho spako, and ac¬ 
tually said, “My dear Mary, is supper noar 
ready ? I’m as hungry as a huntor ?” Their 
wonder increased more and more. The 
.phildrcn hardly seemect assured whether it 
was their father or not; and Mrs. Bullard 
, scarcely knew whether to believe in the 
evidenco of her eyes arid ears. But the 
change was real. Already a blessed feeling 
diffused through the family circlo liko unto 
the falling of the morning dew, or tho fra¬ 
grant breath of summer flowers. At first, 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-TO 
hesitatingly, Mrs. Bullard replied, “ Supper 
will bo ready directly. But I am so sorry 
these cakes are burned. Must Willie run 
to tho bakery for a loaf?” “No, never 
mind,” returned Mr. Bullard, “wo can scrape 
off tho burned part, and they will taste as 
woll as need be.” 
And taste as well they did, and better 
than cakes had tasted in tho Bullard dwell¬ 
ing for a long time before. Not one jarring 
speech marred the pleasantness of that 
happy meal. Mr. Bullard’s kindly speech 
and smiling face had descended to his wife, 
and from both became reflected in their 
childron. Tho house looked brighter. The 
beautiful mantle of cheerfulness had fallen 
on it, and there was unutterable music in 
tho vory ticking of tho old clock. Mrs. 
Bullard cried with delight when she saw the 
baby crow’ing in its smiling father’s lap; 
and he promised, if tho elder ones would be 
good, to take them on a nico walk with him 
on tho nice Sabbath day. And she resolved 
never more to speak a peevish or angry 
word again, if constant watchfulness could 
prevent their utterance, but retain the 
peaceful happiness, which only kind words 
and smiles can bring. A happy influence, 
too, was exerted on the children. They no 
longer saw peevishness and anger in their 
parents; and gradually, but surely, lost it 
themselves. And Mr. Bullard whenever ho 
felt his old bad feolings rising up, to an 
outer vent, called to mind the conduct of 
tho bluo-eyed girl, and resolutely crushed 
them down. 
Readers, believe us, kind words are the 
brightest flowers of earths existence; thoy 
make a very paradise of the humblest home 
that the world can show. Use them, and 
especially round tho firosido circle. Thoy 
are jewels beyond price, and more precious 
to heal tho wounded heart and make tho 
weighod-down spirit glad, than all other 
blessings the earth can give. 
THE INFLUENCE OF PRIVATE LETTERS. 
Standing in tho Post Office Avenue a few 
days since, I saw a young man perusing 
with a smiling face, a letter ho had just ta¬ 
ken from tho office. As I glanced at the 
page, tho words “ Dear Brother ” met my 
eyes. Hero, then, was a letter from a “ Sis¬ 
tor.” That smiling faco was indicative of a 
smiling heart. “ Homo, sweet home,” with 
its hallowed associations, were clustering 
around the heart, and crowding tho memo¬ 
ry, and venting themselves through tho 
sparkling eye and animated countenance of 
that young stranger ! He was not the only 
one that derived pleasure from the letter.— 
Although 1 knew not a syllable it contained, 
further than that of “Dear Brother,” yet 1 
felt that a kind and gentle influence was 
diffusing itself from its sacred page, that 
would tend to warm into new life and action 
the love of homo and homo joys. Here, 
thought I, is ono of the strong bulwarks 
that surround and protect the multitude of 
young men that throng our city from tho 
snares and tomptations that everywhere be¬ 
set them. On the wings of every mail, is 
borne from every direction, the gentle ad¬ 
monition and kind greetings of a virtuous 
sisterhood, backed by tho strong warning- 
voice and counsel of parental lovo. 
I would that these messages of love wero 
multiplied an hundred fold ; and they would 
be so multiplied if all were aware of the re¬ 
straining influence they have on tho minds 
and morals of young men. There are hun¬ 
dreds of this class who leave their pleasant 
homes in tho country, where they havo en¬ 
joyed, from childhood, the society of virtu¬ 
ous females— mothers, sisters and friends, 
—who, among strangers, scarcely know the 
luxury of a smilo of recognition from a fe¬ 
male. None but those who have experi¬ 
enced this desolation of heart, and longing 
for tho hearty greeting of the home-circle, 
can fully realize tho valuo of tho friends 
they' leave behind. Next to tho real enjoy¬ 
ment of home itself, is that of a kind, fami¬ 
liar and constant correspondence, between 
its several members. This should never bo 
noglected, or its consequences lightly con¬ 
sidered. Let sisters , especially who havo 
brothers floating on the wide se*a of tempta¬ 
tion, bear this in mind, that their restraining 
influence, when properly directed, is almost 
boundless. How many young men who 
have wandered from their homes and be- 
como rough and uncouth in their manners, 
for the want of the refinements of homo, 
which are denied them among strangers, 
will speak with honest pride of their pretty 
sisters at homo. Rough as they are, thev 
would not disgrace their sisters by a dis¬ 
honorable act. 
Sisters, cherish your brothers, then, as 
you would your own virtues. Throw around 
them the gentlo restraining influence of sis¬ 
terly affection, and especially, when absent 
from you, cheor them often with tokens of 
remembrance from your pen, and by so do¬ 
ing, tho smiling countenance of your happy 
brother may silently diffuso a ray of sun¬ 
shine to tho heart of an unknown .—Bangor 
Courier. 
A MAGNETIZED IRISHMAN. 
In New York, the other day, an Irishman 
working at a forgo, got a particle of hot 
iron in his eye. Whilo writhing in pain, a 
boy stepped up to him, and said with great 
coolness, “Will you give me a half dollar if 
I got that out of your eye ?” 
“ I’ll givo you anything—I’ll givo you a 
dollar.” 
Away tho boy ran, and came back with a 
magnot, with which, in about a minute, he 
drew out thp iron atom. Paddy winked 
his watory eyes, and sworo an oath of relief 
and gratitude. 
He then gave the operator tho half dollar 
and the poor follow’s sistor, who stood by, 
said “ Thom Yankee childer could do any¬ 
thing.” 
Trust not the world, for it nove 
that it promiseth.— Augustine. 
rker: an agricultural and family newspaper. 
REMNANTS. 
A delightful heading, wo are suro, to 
every experienced and indefatigable shop¬ 
per, who may choose to glance over our 
columns. But we do not mean those charm¬ 
ing odds and ends of silks, chintzes and 
muslins, that Stewart’s clerks so obligingly 
keep bundled up under tho back shelf ior 
the knowing frequenters of tho several 
counters. We wero thinking of time, not 
mantua-making, dear ladies, and many who 
walk miles to obtain a good bargain, throw 
away remnants far more precious than they 
secure. It is a life-long study—the value 
of time. Some have it forced upon their 
attention by early and painful experience, 
others glean tho knowledge by little and 
little; still there aro few who depart for 
that far-off land where “time shall be no 
more,” without a deep and mournful regret 
for tho moments and hours so recklessly 
squandered. 
It is this knowledge that separates the 
idler from tho industrious reaper, in tho 
world’s harvost-field. Laying asido every 
consideration of a future life, that which wo 
now experience might bo made far brighter 
and more peaceful by “gathering up the 
fragments.” It is the sum of industry, tho 
enigma of success. Tho learned, tho weal¬ 
thy, tho accomplished, how havo thoy 
reached tho point for which we vainly sigh ? 
Theso very regretful moments wero seized 
by them as precious gifts. Sloop camo to 
bo but a “ sweet restorer ” of wearied ener¬ 
gies. There was no lingering after tho 
awakening, for ono more’' dream; no little 
toilette duties performed with many a weary 
yawn. Waking brought them to life and 
activity, with a thought of the duties of tho 
day ; a scheme, complete in all its parts, for 
employment of every hour. This could all 
be done whilo the body was cared for; and 
eating became but an accessory to rest, not 
an amusement for whiling away weary 
hours. Not that labor was incessant, for 
relaxation is as much a business as study it¬ 
self. Exercise, social intercouse, all in prop¬ 
er season, aro enjoyed with a keener zest 
for previous industry. Wo havo ofton 
spoken of this theme, directly and indi¬ 
rectly, for wo recognize its importance in 
tho household, tho counting-room and tho 
study. Wo have seen it becomo tho open 
sesame to abstruse and difficult acquire¬ 
ments, and we remember whose was the 
command— 
“Gather up the fragments, that nothing 
be left.” 
“I’m afloat! I’m afloat!” screamed out a 
young lady of powerful lungs and fingers to 
match, as sho exercised both at the piano. 
“ You’re afloat, eh ?” growled an old sea 
dog;” I should judge you was afloat by the 
squall you raise.” 
M.mm. 
“Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
For the New-Yorker. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 51. 
m 
fggrAnswer next week, 
Austin. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 32 letters. 
My 1, 28, 32, 3, 4, 8 is a river in Austria. 
My 27, 2, 6, 6, 11, 14, 22, 21 is a lake in Switzer¬ 
land. 
My 1, 28, 12, 9, 2, 3 is one of the German States. 
My 27, 3, 7, 12, 19, 23, 15 is a county in Ireland. 
My 29, 10, 28, 27, 8, 12 is a river in England. 
My 6, 8, 7, 25, 28 is a town in Italy. 
My 18, 26, 5, 17 is a cape in Africa. 
My 13, 3, 2, 29 is an oasis in the desert of Sahara. 
My 24, 8, 2, 13, 20, 23, 26 is a river in California. 
My 13, 15, 31, 16 is a city in New York. 
My 21, 15, 30, 8 is a lake in the United States. 
My whole is the name of a celebrated book and 
its author. n. t. t. 
Plymouth, Ohio. 
[ggr Answer next week. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 26 letters. 
My 22, 10, 19, 21, 6, 1 is the second coat or mem¬ 
brane of the eye. 
My 11, 26, 25, 21, 4, 5,20,19,18, 21, 9 is the name 
given to certain kind of bodies. 
My 12, 1, 19, 8, 21, 7, 4, 4 is one of the proper¬ 
ties of bodies. 
YOUTH'S CASKET FOR 1853, 
The second volume of the Youth’s Casket will com¬ 
mence with the year 1853, and instead of sixteen pages to 
each number, as heretofore, there will he twenty-four 
pagos ; making an addition of eight pages to each number, 
and of ninety-six pages to the Volume, which will consist 
of nearly 
’ 300 LARGE MAGAZINE PAGES, 
and all for the original low price of Fifty cents a year in 
ADVANCE. 
We trust that our friends will hear in mind that this is 
one of the most beautiful, and decidedly the 
Cheapest Juvenile Magazine in the World. 
It iT especially adapted to the tastes of the young, and com- 
prii ;s, in the range of its contributions, all tho various 
branches of useful and entertaining knowledge, sports and 
pastimes : constantly embellished with the 
MOST BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
We would say, particularly, to all parents and guardians, 
that wo shall lie untiring in our vigilance that nothing of 
an immoral or unamiable tendency shall ever mar onr 
pages, of which, indeed, we feel confident we have given 
ample assurance, by the manner in which we have con- 
0 cted the Casket hitherto. 
Terms to Clubs —Invariably in Advance. 
One copy one year - -. ,50 
Seven copies one year, ------ 3,00 
Fftcen copies one year, ------ 6,00 
Twenty-four copies one year, - - - 9,00 
I • order that new subscribers may commence with the 
first Volume, we are induced to offer, in addition to the 
above, the following 
EXTRAORDINARY INDUCEMENT!!! 
jUg?” 'I'o any person who Kill send ns OTUC DOT.DAR 
free of postage, ice will, res.ni/nr/i/ mail the CASKET for 
1853, and send them , POSTAGE PAID, the volume for 
1852 neatly bound in cloth, with gilt bark. 
Our First Volume. 
jrYT” Bound copies of tho first volume of the Casket 
can be bad as early as the first of December, for seventy- 
five cents, delivered to any post-office within three thou¬ 
sand miles. 
Postage on the Casket within the United States, when 
paid quarterly or yearly in advance, is only half a cent a 
month, or six cents a year. 
AGENTS WANTED.— Respectable and responsible 
persons wanted to canvass for subscribers for the Casket, 
in every town in the United Stales and the Canadas, to 
whom a liberal percentage will be paid. Specimen num¬ 
bers for vol. II. 1853. will be ready the first of December, 
and supplied free of postage to any person wishing to act 
is Agent, or to persons desirous to lieip it along. 
Certificates ok Agency. — No persons are authorized to 
receive subscriptions for the Casket hut such as have 
printed certificates signed by the publishers. 
Postage Stamps. — Subscribers and Postmasters 
who wish to send us fractional parts of a dollar by mail, 
can do so by means of postage stamps, which are always 
to Vie bad at the post-offices, and they will be taken by us 
at all times at tlieir full value if sent post-paid. 
Address Beadle & Vanduzee, Publishers, 
Pnfl'atn /V Y. 
the onto farmek, 
AND MECHANICS ASSISTANT, 
Edited and Published in Cleveland, Ohio, by Tho.’s Brown. 
A FAMILY Newspaper, devoted to Agriculture, Hor¬ 
ticulture, Mechanic Arts, Literature, Domes!ic Econ¬ 
omy, Social Improvement, and General Intelligence. 
The wholesale and retail prices of all the leading articles 
bought and sold in New York, Cleveland, Cincinnati and 
Pittsburgh Markets, are also accurately reported each 
week. 
The Farmer is one of the largest, and is acknowledged 
by all who are acquainted with it, to lie one of the best 
Agricultural Newspapers in the United States. 
Sample Copies will be sent to any part of the United 
States, if the request be made of the publisher, by lettter, 
post-paid. 
Terms.— Single Subscribers §2 Clubs of two or more, 
§1,50 each —invariably in advance. 
A limited number of advertisements will be inserted in 
the Farmer at the rate of §1,00 per square, (ten linos or 
less,) fur the first insertion, and fifty cents for each subse¬ 
quent insertion. THO.’S BROWN, Publisher, 
Merchant’s Excange, Cleveland. Ohio. 
November 23, 1852. 152-St 
SENECA B. SiNH'l'M, 
(Late of Whitney’s Daquerrean Gallery,) 
H AS fitted up a suite oi rooms in Chappell's Block for 
DAGUERREOTYPING, which for adaptation to 
that purpose are unsurpassed in the city. Those wanting 
good pictures, (warranted permanent,) will find it to their 
advantage to give him a call. Pictures Copied equal, or 
superior to the original. 
Entrance next to Grant’s Music Store, 82 State St., 
Chappell’s Block. 
Rochester, May, 1S52. [ 124—tf | 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: 
A WEEKLY HOME NEWSPAPER, 
Designed for both Country and Town Residents. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year — §1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows:— Three Copies, one year, for §5; Six 
Copies (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) for §10; 
Ten Copies (and one to Agent,) for §15; Twenty Copies 
for §25, and any additional number, directed to individuals 
at the same rate. Six months subscriptions in proportion. 
Subscription money, properly enclosed, may be 
sent by mail at the risk of the Ihiblisher. 
A THRILLING SKETCH. 
One of my father’s brothers, residing in 
Boston at tho time tho yellow fever prevail¬ 
ed to such a frightful extent, became a vic¬ 
tim to tho pestilence. When tho first 
symptoms appeared, his wife sent the chil¬ 
dren into the country, and herself remained 
to attend upon him. Her friends warned 
her against such rashness. They told her 
it would bo death to her, and no benefit to 
him ; for ho would soon be too ill to know 
who attended upon him. These arguments 
made no impression on her afl'ectionate 
heart. Sho felt that it would be a long life 
of satisfaction to her to know who attend¬ 
ed him, if he did not. Sho accordingly staid 
and watched with unremitting care. This, 
however, did not avail to save him. He grew 
worse and worse, and finally died. Those 
who went round with the death carts had 
visited the chamber, and seen that tho end 
was near. They now camo to take tho 
body. Ilis wifo refused to lot it go. Sho 
told me sho novel' know how to account for 
it, but, though ho was perfectly cold and 
rigid, and to every appearance quito dead, 
there was a powerful impression on her 
mind that life was not extinct. The men 
wero overborne by tho strength of her con¬ 
viction, though thoir own reason was oppos¬ 
ed to it. 
The half hour camo round, and again, 
was heard tho solemn words, “ Bring out 
your dead.” Tho wifo again resisted their 
importunities ; but this time the men wero 
more resolute. They said tho duty assign¬ 
ed to them was a painful one, but tho health 
of the town required punctual obedience to 
orders thoy received ; if thoy over expected 
tho pestilence to abate, it must bo by a 
prompt removal of the dead, and immediate 
fumigation of tho infected apartments. 
Sho pleaded and pleaded, and even 
kneeled to them in an agony of tears, con¬ 
tinually saying, “ I am sure ho is not dead.” 
Tho men represented the utter absurdity of 
such an idea; but finally overcome by her 
tears, again departed. With trembling 
haste sho renewed her efforts to restore him. 
Sho raised his head, rolled his limbs in hot 
flannel, and placed hot onions on his feet. 
The dreaded half hour again camo round, 
and found him as cold and rigid as over.— 
sho renewed hor entreaties so desperately 
that tho messongers began to think a little 
gentlo force would bo necessary. Thoy ac¬ 
cordingly attempted to remove tho body 
against her will, but she threw herself upon 
it, and clung to it with such frantic strength 
that they could not easily loosen her grasp. 
Impressed by the remarkable energy of hor 
will, they relaxed their efforts. To all their 
remonstrances she answered, “ If you bury 
him, you shall bury me with him.” At last 
by dint of reasoning on the necessity of the 
case, thoy obtained from her a promiso that 
if ho showed no signs of lifo before they 
again camo round, she would mako no far¬ 
ther opposition to the removal. 
Having gained this respite, sho hung the 
watch upon the bed-post, and renewed her 
efforts with redoubled zeal. She kept kegs 
of hot water about him, and forced hot 
brandy between his teeth, and breathed into 
his nostrils, and held hartshorn to his nose, 
but still tho body lay motionless and cold. 
Sho looked anxiously at tho watch, and in 
five minutes tho promised half-hour would 
expire, and those dreadful voices would bo 
hoard passing through tho street. Hopeless¬ 
ness came over her—sho dropped tho head 
6he had been sustaining—her hand trembled 
violently—and the hartshorn sho had been 
holding was spilled on tho pallid face. Ac¬ 
cidentally, tho position of tho head had be¬ 
come slightly backward, and tho powerful 
liquid flowed into his nostrils. Instantly 
there was a short, quick gasp—a struggle— 
his eyes opened—and when the death-men 
camo again, they found him sitting up in tho 
hod ! Ho is still alive, and has enjoyed un¬ 
usually good health.— Mrs. L. M. Child. 
KEEP A GOOD HEADWAY ON. 
A stirring man gets a job done in half 
tho time that your slow and easy one takes 
to begin it in. It is a pleasure to drive a 
horso that drives off freely. You know how 
to calculate your distance — you can steer 
clear of collisions. But your fat and lazy 
boast stops just when tho safety of tho car¬ 
riage demands a steady movement. Wo 
were once half a day beating from tho open 
sea around a long sand point into the bay. 
The tide was running strong against us, and 
wo had made several tacks without gaining 
an inch to tho windward. Once as, in our 
anxiety, we let the sail shake in tho wind, 
and were drifted down in an instant more 
than wo had gained in hours, ono on shore 
shouted out, Keep a good headway on ! and 
at tho tack we took his advice. We ran 
close in to tho beach, then shoving down 
tho helm, sho luffed and slid up right into 
tho wind’s eye, and though her keel grated 
on tho sand, on recovering the helm, sho 
filled away and wont careering off into her 
safe harbor. 
Keep a good headway on, and you will 
shoot up easily past many a point that 
stretches across your course in life. Be 
busy, and keep at work in work-hours. We 
employ the man to work for us whose shop 
is crowded with customers. Don’t leave 
business undone, to look up business. Keep 
hard at what you find to do. Make horse¬ 
shoe nails when nobody brings you a horso to 
shoe. And while your faco is feebly lighted 
with the glimmer of tho small firo on your 
forgo, ono will tap you on the shoulder and 
offer a job, to do which you must heap up 
the coals and raise a fire that will make the 
whole shop glow in its ruddy light.— JY. Y. 
Daily Times. 
Of all the actions of a man’s life, his mar¬ 
riage does least concern other people, yet 
of all actions of our lifo, ’tis rr l0 st meddled 
with by other people— Selfien. 
Never scold without good cause. 
My 24, 26, 20, 8, 3, 13 is a tool much used by 
farmers. 
My 16, 25, 17, 2, 15 is a forest tree. 
My 22, 12, 6, 4, 14, 33, 26 is a town in Massachu¬ 
setts. 
My whole is a glorious motto. m. h. f. 
ANSWERS TO REBUS, &c„ IN No. 50. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus No. 49.—“ Grand 
Maxim ”—Attend well to your business. 
Answer to Historical Euigma.— Uncle Tom's 
Cabin, or Life Among the Imdy,—by Mrs. Harriet 
Beecher Stowe. 
Answer to Poetical Enigma.— The Father gave 
t/um $600. One share teas $200, the other $100. 
Term3 of Advertising: 
One Dollar per square (ten lines—100 words, or less.) for 
the first insertion, and 50 cents for each subsequent publi¬ 
cation,— in advance. fW" With a single exception, the 
circulation of the New-Yorker is much larger than that 
of any other newspaper in the State, west of Albany. Only 
a limited space, however, is devoted to advertisements, and 
hence preference is given to those most appropriate—such 
as the cards and notices of dealers in Agricultural Imple¬ 
ments and Machinery,—Horticulturists and Seedsmen,— 
Booksellers and Publishers,—Inventors, etc. All orders 
by mail should he accompanied with the cash. 
To enable us to accommodate as many as possible, brie 
advertisements are preferred. Patent medicines, &c., will 
not be advertised in tliis paper on any terms. 
AU communications, and business letters, should 
bo addressed to D. D. T. Moore. Rochester, N. Y. 
The Wool Grower & Stock Register, 
AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY JOURNAL, 
Devoted Chiefly to Wool and Stock Growing. 
This Journal is the only one published in America, pri¬ 
marily devoted to the interests of Wool Growers, Stock 
Breeders, Graziers, Dairymen, &c., and should be tu[tbe 
hands of every 
OWNER OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS. 
Fifty Cents a Year. To Clubs and Agents, — Five 
Copies for §2; Eight Copies for $3; Eleven Copies for §4; 
Twenty Copies for $7, and any additional number at the 
same rate—35 cents per copy. The three back volumes, 
bound, will he furnished at 40 cents each,—in sheets at 35 
cents, or the three for ®1. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
