68 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
FEB. 80 
I’M WITH YOU ONCE AGAIN. 
BT 8I0RGK P. MORRIS. 
I’m with you once again, my friends, 
No more my footsteps roam: 
■Where it began my journey ends, 
Amid the Rcenes of home. 
No other clime has skies so blue, 
Or streams so broad and clear, 
And where are hearts so warm and trm« 
As those that meet me here? 
Since last, with spirits wild and tree, 
I pressed my native strand, 
I’ve wandered many miles at sea. 
And many miles on land; 
Pie seen fair regions of the earth 
With rude commotions torn, 
Which taught me how to prize the worth 
Of that where I was born. 
In other countries where I heard 
The language of my own, 
How fondly each familiar word 
Awoke an answering tone! 
But when our woodland songs were sung 
Upon a foreign mart, 
The vows that faltered on the tongue 
With rapture filled my heartl 
My native land! I turn to you, 
With blessings and with prayer, 
Where man is brave and woman true 
And free as mountain air. 
Long may our flag in triumph ware, 
Against the world combined, 
And friends a welcome—foes a grave, 
Within our borders find. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
POMPLY HOUSE. 
BY CAROLINE A. HOWARD. 
[[Concluded from page GO,last number.] 
One’s nature is a thing hard to change and 
modify. And when nature has been strengthened 
by habit, it becomes harder still. Gen. Pompi.y has 
changed little in the two years which have in¬ 
tervened since the death of Grace. It may be his 
voice is a touch gentler in speaking to his wife. It 
may be he treats Constance and Isabel a little 
more as if they were young women and no longer 
wayward children; but in most respects he is the 
same. He still likes to have the best of everything 
appropriated to his own use; he still makes his 
word law, and his judgment supreme in his 
household. 
Constance and Isabel are at home most of the 
time, especially Constance, who, as her mother’s 
health is very delicate, has the principal charge of 
the domestic department Isabel is spending the 
winter with a relative in New York. 
One can gather little, from her letters to her 
father and mother, regarding her movements there, 
but to “ sister Con.” her girlish heart is unburden¬ 
ed, and it is evident from these epistles that she is 
drinking her fill of gaiety and admiration in the 
mazes of fashionable society. Her relative, a 
brilliant member of “ uppertendam," is delighted 
with the freshness and beauty of Isabel, who she 
says has been kept mewed up in obscurity quite 
long enough. A continual round of pleasure, with 
a full consciousness of liberty, which she never has 
felt in her father’s presence, soon renders Isabel 
as thoughtless and vain as it is in her nature to be. 
It is not to be wondered at that on her return to 
Pomply House after a three months’ absence, she 
finds it, to use her own expression, “ insufferably 
dull.” Not that she misses the company and the 
parties so much, she can do without them very 
well, for a while; but she does feel the want of 
gentlemen’s society, (it gives such a zest to enjoy¬ 
ment,) and more especially does she feel the ab¬ 
sence of a certain tall, black-eyed and whiskered 
young man whose attentions to her during the 
latter part of her visit, had become “ quite 
particular.” 
Probably the gentleman in question feels her loss 
quite as sensibly, for she has not been at home long 
before he makes his appearance at Pomply House. 
This is a new era in the hitherto quiet lives of the 
girls, for their father has carefully secluded them 
from the society of the opposite sex, with the ex¬ 
ception of a few chosen friends of his own, who 
ate neither youthful nor gay. 
Philip is twenty-one. He is coming home for a few 
days, just to see his mother and sisters, though he 
does not so express it. He writes that he is long¬ 
ing to see them all, that fortune has been kind to 
him and he can return in his manhood, crowned 
with well-earned honors. He comes, and the hours 
fly swiftly and happily away. Isabel never seemed 
so beautiful, so joyous; Constance never felt so 
happy before. 
But it is impossible that the feelings of their 
guest toward his daughter, should remain long un¬ 
perceived by the General. They were seen and 
disapproved. Prom the first, he had been preju¬ 
diced against the young foreigner who styled him¬ 
self Leno Cordeiro, a Cuban by birth, but educa¬ 
ted and in business in New York. There was, to 
the stern, common-sense mind of the General, 
something fawning, deceitful and sinister in the 
face and manners of this new friend of Isabel’s, 
and he wished if possible to rid her of his presence. 
He left them after a visit of nearly a week, to the 
great relief the General, whose good breeding and 
courtesy had ill enabled him to conceal his dislike. 
Philip soon after took a reluctant leave of them 
and departed. How lonely the old house seemed. 
So lonely that the girls could not bear its solitude, 
and went forth into the woods and fields, taking 
long rambles almost daily. It was thus that one 
evening as the General sat in his library, he saw 
them returning along the graveled walk escorted 
by Senhor Cordeiro. He declined their invita¬ 
tion to come in, and left them at the door, as the 
General firmly believed from seeing his angry face 
at the window. 
In the evening Isabel was summoned to the 
library for a “ talk,” the result of which was, that 
her father worked himself into a passion, and for¬ 
bade her ever to speak to that rascally Spaniard 
again. To this his equally quick-tempered and ob¬ 
stinate daughter replied, that, he was prejudiced 
and unreasonable, and that unless he could give 
more substantial grounds for his dislike, she should 
not think fit to break off an agreeable acquaint¬ 
ance. As to the Senhor, he had not returned to 
New York, but had taken rooms at the Hotel in 
Granby, intending to spend a short time in hunting 
and fishing. 
Whether he hasted and fished, or for what kind 
of game, I know not, but from some reason he 
avoided the General, and came no more to Pomply 
House. Isabel, too, rarely spoke his name, never, 
before her father, but her cheeks grew paler and 
sometimes her eyes looked red. She no longer 
cared for society and would take long walks with 
no companion save a book, and if Constance 
chided her for not letting her share her wander¬ 
ings, she would smile and say she would rather be 
alone. But such sentimentalism, as Constance 
deemed it, wore away after three or four weeks and 
she became the same lively girl as before, except 
that she was more thoughtful of others. About 
this time she became much interested in the poor 
of our village, and, in a plain and modest garb, 
might be seen to visit them every few days. At 
such times, my mother says she has frequently met 
her coming from the Post-Office. People thought 
it was her active goodness, that brought the roses 
back to her cheeks. Perhaps so. 
It was about this time that a new minister was 
settled in Dudley. He was a young man, earnest, 
pious, and unassuming; one who “went about his 
Master’s business” with activity and without osten¬ 
tation. He became in a short time, a favorite with 
every one. Young and old went to hear him and 
all spoke in his praise. General Pomply had not 
been of late so regular an attendant at church, but his 
wife and daughters were, and in them the new min¬ 
ister found warm friends. Mrs. Pomply was much 
interested in him and he soon became a frequent 
visitor. Time sped, and as they met with no obsta¬ 
cle, these visits were multiplied and lengthened.— 
Gossip whispered that he was smitten with the 
charms of the fair Isabel, but they were unde¬ 
ceived at length, by the announcement of his'en- 
gagement to Miss Constance. 
This was a happy event to Mrs. Pomply, for in it 
she beheld the future welfare of her eldest daugh¬ 
ter. Nor was Isabel less pleased, although Earnest 
Ward was not such a person as she should fancy. 
The General alone had not given his hearty appro¬ 
val. He had given his consent, he could not do 
otherwise, for he could find no foundation for a re¬ 
fusal, but he was disappointed. He desired for 
both his daughters brilliant alliances, and the eldest 
was to marry a poor, almost unknown clergyman. 
But the young people were to wait sometime, a 
number of years perhaps, for it were folly to take 
Constance from a home like hers to place her in 
one so inferior as his would be. Besides her 
mother needed her constant care. How much she 
needed it, how little while her gentle words of in¬ 
struction, her loving smile of approbation would 
gladden their hearts and lighten their labors, none 
of them realized. 
It was Sunday; they had returned from church 
where they had listened to a well-written and 
profitable discourse on the duties and virtues of 
woman, drawn from the twenty-eighth and thirty- 
first verses of the last chapter in Proverbs. Mrs. 
Pompi.y was sitting with her daughters, alone at 
twilight, conversing of the sermon of the afternoon. 
“ Her children rise up and call her blessed,” she 
said musingly. “ Thank Heaven that it is so! A 
true woman needs no other monument, she asks no 
higher honor. How often good and noble mothers 
pass away, and there is no cessation in the busy 
world, no gap that only a similar mind can fill.— 
Everything moves forward like a stream that 
makes but an eddy above a sinking form,then rushes 
on. But in her children's hearts, that spot which a 
mother holds as her birthright, she lives. In the 
young men rising to reputation, wealth and posi¬ 
tion; in the young women preparing to follow in 
her own footsteps, her influence can be seen above 
every other. Oh, if I could feel that I had done my 
work, so faithfully, so well, that the future lives of 
my children would attest the fact, I would be will¬ 
ing to pass forever from the world—to be forgotten 
from that moment.” 
She spoke earnestly and her cheek glowed with 
a crimson spot that made her for a moment look 
young again. How sadly, yet how tenderly did 
her words return to her children’s hearts the next 
morning, and for years after. 
The household had risen and breakfast was pre¬ 
pared, still Mrs. Pomply lingered. Isabel went to 
her room and found her sitting in her chair appa¬ 
rently engaged in dressing. She spoke to her, and 
receiving no reply, knelt down and looked up into 
her face. A smile was on the lips, but from the half 
closed eyes the light of life and love had fled for¬ 
ever. A disease of the heart, which had for many 
years rendered her an invalid, had thus silently and 
suddenly sent her to a better world. 
The General was getting old, and, as might be 
expected from his disposition, exacting and child¬ 
ish. Since his wife’s death, this had increased 
rapidly. The fact was, he pitied himself very much. 
Several times he had almost resolved to marry 
again, but partly the fear of opposition from lys 
daughters, and partly the fear that he might not be 
as well off, had restrained him. He could not bear 
the idea of Constance’s marriage. Isabel’s im¬ 
pulsive, independent nature had never suited well 
with his, and now in his old age, and rather poor 
health, the attentions' of Constance seemed indis¬ 
pensable. So her marriage was postponed from 
time to time, until at last he wished her to break 
off the engagement entirely. This she firmly and 
indignantly refused to do, and bore his unjust re¬ 
proaches and selfish tears as well as she was able, 
though they well nigh compelled her to break her 
resolution. 
Her lover had had a call to a missionary station 
in the Sandwich Islands, which should he accept, 
he would be absent two or three years, and he had 
hoped to take her with him. Willing to comply, in 
some degree, with her father’s wishes, she persuaded 
her affianced to defer their union until his return, 
hoping that her father would be more reconciled. 
She was the more willing to do this, as she had 
reason to suspect that Isabel had been for some¬ 
time in correspondence with Cordeiro. She even 
feared that she held clandestine meetings with 
him, and she felt it to be her duty to guard her, if 
possible, from evil. 
Ernest Ward departed on his voyage with a sad 
yet hopeful heart, and Constance returned to her 
duties to count the days to his return. That day 
never came to the waiting, longing heart. For 
one brief year, letters, freighted with hope and love, 
formed a chain to link the absent, then came the 
fatal missive wherein a stranger’s hand had traced 
the story of his goodness, his suffering and death. 
He died of a loathsome fever, far from the gentle 
hand which might have soothed his aching brow, 
and with his latest breath he spoke of love for her 
and bade her meet him in heaven. 
Strong hearts break, but genlle ones will bend. 
It was so with Constance. From the wild delirium 
of fever which followed the death of her hopes 
she awoke changed forever. Calm and self-pos¬ 
sessed she went about the affairs of life, fulfilling 
duty with religious exactness, gentle, kind and af¬ 
fectionate to all. It seemed as if her mind had 
accepted her lover’s wish to meet her in heaven, as 
a holy charge which should shape her life. When 
she had fully recovered her health, she was as 
pretty as ever, some thought more so, but her 
beautiful brown hair, which began to turn grey in 
her sickness, became in a little while what you see 
it now. 
I do not think her father rejoiced at the dreadful 
blow which had severed her from her dearest ob¬ 
ject, but he seemed very happy to know that she 
would not now leave him. 
Her anxiety for Isabel increased daily. She had 
several times found her alone and in tears, and had 
seen her thrust letters hastily from sight At 
length, with many entreaties and much good coun¬ 
sel, she so far gained her confidence as to learn that 
Cordeiro had long urged her to a union with him, 
and that her heart was torn by the conflict of love 
and duty. 
Entertaining, as Constance did, but a low opin¬ 
ion of the man who had so wormed himself into 
the affections of her sister, she could of course say 
nothing encouraging. She urged Isabel to forget 
him, to rest assured that others, who judged with 
impartial eyes, knew him better than she. For a 
time she hoped that she had not spoken in vain.— 
But she awoke one morning to read the following 
letter, found on her dressing-table, with a dispair- 
ing heart: 
“Dear, Kind Sister:— To you, who but for your 
youth would seem to have tilled a mother’s place 
to mo, I give this, my only explanation of my ab¬ 
sence. When you read this I shall be with my fu¬ 
ture husband, on his way to Cuba, his native place. 
Loving him as I do, a father’s unjust opposition, 
and even a dear sister’s gentle expostulation, could 
not persuade me that it was my duty to sacrifice 
his heart or my own. Your own Isabel.” 
To tell the truth, the General had always feared 
some evil would result from Isabel’s rash willful¬ 
ness; therefore he was not entirely unprepared for 
the step which she had taken, and his indignation 
and wounded pride, saved his heart its greatest 
pang. It was on Constance that the weight of 
sorrow, fear and anxiety chiefly fell. She had 
hoped that Isabel would write to her but that hope 
faded away as month after month passed and 
brought no tidings. 
Grief, concealed and busy, left its mark on the 
proud old man, who bowed by it and weakened by 
disease, was now the only companion of poor Con¬ 
stance. Tenderly she nursed him, respectfully she 
heeded his wishes though selfish and exacting, 
taking as her example that mother whose life had 
been devoted to his service, and Heaven rewarded 
her by taking him soon away 
Amidst all their afflictions, the cheering news 
which ever and anon came to them from Philip, was 
balm to the hearts of both. Philip was now raised 
to the rank of Lieutenant, and the General was 
never so happy as when, in reading over the list of 
officers who had distinguished themselves, he read 
the name of his son. It was while thus engaged one 
evening, that he uttered a cry of anguish so deep, so 
heart-breaking, that Constance flew to his side in 
wild alarm. lie thrust the paper toward her and with 
a hasty glance her mind took in the dreaded truth. 
A naval battle—a victory—a list of killed and 
wounded,—among the former, Lieut Philip Alex¬ 
ander Pomply. The gallant, kind-hearted brother, 
on whom her grief-worn heart had long leaned, 
had gone before her. Already his hands clasped 
those of his dearest and best in “the silent land.” 
The remains were brought home to the lonely 
household, and were laid in the famil}' lot in our 
village cemetery. As yet no stone had marked the 
resting-place of those who slept there, but now by 
the General’s orders, a handsome monument rose 
above them, for which he wrote the inscription, 
leaving a place for his own name, which he felt 
would soon be there. Not so soon, however, as he 
expected. It was not until June of the following 
year, that the stone-cutter was called to engrave the 
date of his death, his age, and virtues. 
How lonesome the old house has been, ever since, 
you can judge by the glimpse which you have 
had of it 
Three weeks later. I had not thought to add 
another line to what I have written for you, dear 
Lucy, but strange events have added one more 
scene to the life of Constance Pomply. 
To-day our village bell has tolled, and young and 
old have formed a funeral train to follow the re¬ 
mains of Isabel Pomply to the resting-place of her 
family. Few there are, among us, who know aught 
of her return, or death. Three nights ago the 
stage left an invalid lady, in deep mourning, and a 
child, at Pomply House. My mother was sent for 
that night, and towards morning Isabel Pompi.y 
breathed her last in the arms of her sister, to whose 
loving bosom she had returned, poor and deserted, 
to die. Her little Constance she gave into her 
sister’s arms. 
She was beautiful, even in her coffin. Not the 
beauty of other days, but sweet and motherly look¬ 
ing, with the look of joy that had lit her care-worn 
face when it rested on her sister’s breast On the 
third finger of her left hand was a plain gold ring, 
that little symbol of a holy union. It whispered 
me of the proud, true heart, which, through all its 
passionate devotion, through deception and final 
desertion, had clung to its purity and honor. 
Precept and Example.— Precept is instruction 
written in the sand—the tide flows over it, and the 
record is gone. Example is engraven on the rock, 
and the lesson is not soon lost. 
m 
m 
Not so Bad.—A young man, clad in homespun 
was standing in Court street, a few days since, de¬ 
vouring a doughnut, when he was accosted by one 
of a half a dozen genteelly dressed «ity idlers, 
with: 
“Jest come deown ?* 
“Yeas, guess I have; great plaee this, ain’t it, 
yeou?” said the countryman. 
“ Tis so,bub; how’s your marm?” asked the eity 
buck, bent on sport with “ greeny.” 
“Well, she’s putty well; she sent me down here 
on business.” 
“She did?” What kind of business are you on?” 
"Why, she wanted me to come down to Bostin 
and look reound and find half a dozen of the big¬ 
gest fules in Bostin, and bring ’em up country to 
cdicate ’em; and I rather guess I’ve got my eye on 
’em neow,” said the stranger, taking the whole 
crowd at a glance. 
The next moment he had the edgestone to him¬ 
self where he quietly finished his doughnut. 
Atrocious Mutilation. — The Columbus (Ga.) 
Sun is responsible for the following:—We noticed 
some time ago a placard suspended in a car on the 
Georgia Railroad, in the following words: —“A 
gentleman will be known in these cars by keeping 
his feet off the seats, and liis tobacco in his pockets.” 
A wag took out his penknife and cutout the words 
“off the seats,” and the notice now reads thus:— 
“A gentleman will be known in these cars by keep¬ 
ing his feet and his tobacco in his pockets.” 
. . - ■ • - 
Classic Names.—A Mormon Elder, writing an 
account of his journey and companions to Utah, 
tells of preaching places in about the hardest 
string of names we ever encountered. He tells 
that he has visited and preached in the following 
places in Texas: — Empty-bucket, Rake-pocket, 
Dough-plate, Buck-snort, Possom-trol, Buzzard- 
roost, Hardscrabble, Nippentuck and Lickskillet, 
most of which, however, he says, are simply one- 
horse towns. 
-- 
A lady riding in a carriage a few weeks since, 
found herself seated by the side of an old matron, 
who was exceedingly deaf. “ Ma’am,” said she, in 
a high tone, “did you ever try electricity?” “What 
did you say, miss?” “I asked if you ever tried 
electricity for your deafness?” “0, yes, indeed I 
did; it’s only last summer I got struck by light¬ 
ning, but I don’t see as it done me a bit of good.” 
A good story is told of a Michigan man who 
recently went down into Indiana to buy a drove 
of horses. He was longer absent than he intend¬ 
ed, and failed to meet a business engagement. 
On being reproached for not being home he made 
due apology. “I tell you how it is, Squire; at 
every little confounded town, they wanted me to 
stop and be President of a Bank.” 
One of our smart city urchins hearing his father 
read an article in the paper in relation to a new in¬ 
vention of bricks of glass, exclaimed: “Glassbricks 
—I know what them is.” “What are they?” in¬ 
quired one of the family. "Tumblers of liquor,” 
shouted the juvenile. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 1 4 letters, 
fy 1, 13,11, 5,12 is a town in Afghanistan, 
ly 12, 5, 3 is a river in North Carolina, 
iy 9, 1, 10, 9, 8 is a bay in South America, 
fy 14, 13, 5 is an island in the Grecian Archipelago, 
ly 2, 4, 5, 3, 2 is a lake in Russia, 
fy 7, 2, 5, 7 is a sea in Asia. 
Iy 1, 8, 11, 6 is a cape in South America. 
My whole is the name of a distinguished Span- 
ird. G. 0. Taylor. 
Hamilton, Loudon Co., Va., 1858. 
fSsj- Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ENIGMETICAL ENIGMA. 
I am a word of one syllable and six letters, with 
only one vowel, and rhyme with no word in the 
English language. A word that no Frenchman 
can articulate. I am what the class Mammalia 
possess and the Branchiae do not, and what frozen 
mercury procures from frozen water. I can be 
tortured into the most grotesque and imeompati- 
ble forms. I am a mart for business and indicate 
the wrath of tyrants'and a great thaw in 1858. I 
advise to keep out of harm’s way and a raw spot. 
I am not without a hat nor an arm below the elbow. 
I am a kind of tar for lubricating wheels of a tram 
wagon or a battering ram. I make oxen haw 
when they have a notion to gee. With an insatia¬ 
ble maw, I swallow raw ham. I can distinguish a 
hart from a doe, and if you smell a rat, I am 
w hat_you can conjure out of me. There is a 
word in each line that I entirely absorb, and when 
properly adjusted absorbs me with warmth. 
Niagara, N. Y., 1S58. 
Answer in two weeks. 
N. R. Y. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorkor. 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
SUmtLcmrnts. 
A gentleman being asked the time of day, re- 
ied, that 5 of the time past from noon was equal 
8-33 of the time to midnight. What was the 
me? Samuel Hitchcock. 
Addison Hill, N. Y., 1858. 
Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN NO. 422. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma: — Hoc est 
mirum magis feliciter de vita migrare quam 
ori:—It is truly more felicitous to depart from 
'e than to die. 
Answer to Grammatical Enigma:—Queen Vic- 
ria. 
Answer to Charade:—Meat 
Answer to Algebraical Problem:—126, 99, 81. 
O. MOORE. 
A gricultural book publisher, 
110 Fulton Street, New York. 
New Works Just Published. 
WARDER’S HEDGE MANUAL 
A complete treatise on Hedges, Evergreens, and all plants suitable 
for American Hedging, especially the Madura, or Osage Orange—the 
only successful system of priming—manipulation and management— 
fully illustrated with cuts of implements and processes, to which is 
added a treatise on 
EVERGREENS—their different Tarieties, their propagation, trans¬ 
planting and culture in the United States By Jno. A. Warder W. I). 
Editor of Western Ilort Reriew, and l’res. of the Cincinnati Horti¬ 
cultural Society. 
1 VOL. J2MO. PRICE one Dollar. 
FIELD'S PEAR CULTURE. 
A Treatise on the Propagation and Cultivation of the Pear, in 
Americana full catalogue and descriptions of the different varieties— 
their adaptation to Dwarfs and Standards—the best modes of pruning 
with directions for ripening and preserving the fruit, numerous en¬ 
gravings, carefully prepared, exhibit both the erroneous and correct 
methods of treatment By Thos. W. Field. 
I VOL 12 MO Price 75 CENTS 
FISH CULTURE. 
A Treatise on the Artificial Propagation of Fish, with the descrip¬ 
tion and habits of the kinds most suitable for pisci culture, also the 
most successful modes of Angling for the fishes therein described.— 
By Theodatus Garlick M. D. Vice-President of Cleveland Academy 
of Natural Science 
1 VOL 8VO. PRICE one Dollar. 
FLINT ON GRASSES. 
A Practical Treatise on Grasses and Forage plants, with more than 
one Hundred Illustrations of grasses and implements. The editor of 
the American Agriculturist says:—" This is I he but treatise of the kind 
ue have seen on this important subject. We advise our readers to pet this 
book and study it thoroughly, as we are now doing." By Charles L 
Flint, A. M, gec’y of the Mass. State Board of Agriculture. 
1 VOL 8 VO. PRICE $1 25. 
All the above works will be sent post-paid on receipt of price. 
Address A. O. MOORE, 
420oow5t Agricultural Book Publisher, 
140 Fulton St, New York. 
SUGAR IS MADE!! ! 
OLCOTTS BOOK "SORGHO & IMPHEE,” or the Chinese and 
African Sugar Canes: Containing full instructions for making Su¬ 
gar, Molasses, Alcohol, etc., etc. Sent by mail posj-paid— 
Price $1. 
IMPURE SEED. One variety, enough to plant two 
I MPURE square rods sent by mail pre-paid, with the book for six 
cents more in postage stamps. Each additional variety 
of Impbee six cents. Only sent to those who order the book. 
SEED. Gov. J. II. Hammond, of South Carolina, who raised 
(lie above seed, testifies under date of Nov. 26, 1857, that 
lie does not recollect any variety of the Impbee which is 
TEN inferior to the Sorgho, while many varieties have a larger 
stalk, yielded more juice and marked a higher degree on the 
Varieties, saccharometer, ana in a letter to tile undersigned of Jan. 
13th, 1858, Gov. Hammond says:—‘ I think these seed 
well worth distributing. They produce a Sugar Cane at 
BETTER least equal to the Sorgho in all respects and some of them 
are twice the size. I am inclined to think we shall ulti- 
THAN matcly find several of the varieties (ripening at different 
periods) superceding the Sorgho altogether. I plant this 
SORGHO, year 60 acres of the Cane—of these fout will be planted 
in Sorgho and the remainder in Imphee.” 
A supplement to “ The Sorgho and Imphee” containing the American 
experiments of 1857, with J. S. Lovering’s statementof his successful 
manufacture of Brown and White Sugar from the Sorgho, will ac¬ 
company the Book Address A. O. MOORE, 
420eow5t Agricultural Book Publisher, 
140 Fulton St., New York. 
FIELD, FLOWER AND GARDEN SEEDS. 
O UR 1 ST.8 STOCK OF SEEDS are nearly all received, and are 
now offered for sale to both the Wholesale and Retail Trade, at 
prices to suit the times. We have spared no pains or expense to make 
our stock of SEEDS complete, having a great portion grown under 
our immediate supervisioa The balance of our AMERICAN 
SEEDS are procured from the most reliable sources. Our FOREIGN 
SEEDS are imported direct by ourselves, from long established and 
well known houses in Europe. 
Thankful to our friends and the public generally, for their liberal 
patronage to this branch of our business, we hope for a continuance 
of the same the present year. 
We would invite the Merchants of the West and North-West to an 
examination of our Stock and Prices, before going further East to 
make their purchases. 
CATALOGUES NOW READY. ../T j 
419w4eow HENRY D. EMEltV A Co, 
No. 204 Like street, Chicago, Illinois 
4 MBKOTYPK GAIXERY FOR SALE.—The subscri¬ 
ber oilers for Sale his recently repaired Gallery with or without 
a superior Apparatus, Stock, Ac, very chenp if applied for immedi¬ 
ately. For terms, apply to S. WARNER, <'chorion. N. V. 422emv2t 
ROCHESTER AND LAKE AVENUE 
COMMERCIAL NURSERIES, 
By J. IlONNKLLAN A CO., Rochester, N. Y. 
TITHE Proprietors have on hand for Spring trade, at Wholesale and 
I Itetail, an extensive Stock of the choicest kinds of Fruit Trees 
of all varieties, from one to four years old. 
Evergreens, Ornamental, Deciduous and Climbing Shrubs. A select 
assortment of French and Domestic Roses, Paeonies, Phloxes, Hardy 
Herbaceous and Hedge Plants, Bulbous Itoots. Ac, Ac. 
Descriptive and Priced Catalogues furnished on application. All 
orders promptly filled and forwarded with despatch. 422cowit 
HOUSES, FARMS AND WESTERN LANDS, 
For Stile or Exchange. 
TITHE UNDERSIGNED have now on hand, for SaleoV Exchange 
1 a large assortment of Houses, Farms and Western Lands. Wo 
do a systematized Commission business, which cannot fail to prove 
satisfactory to all parties Hence persons wishing to buy, sell or ex¬ 
change Real Estate, w ill find it to their advantage to call upon us. 
P. S.—Communications bv mail wall receive prompt attention. 
J. GUNkl.SON A CO, Reid Estate Brokers, 
420eowtf No. 14 Arcade Hall, Rochester, N. Y. 
J. Gunnison. Dr. A. Mandevillb 
REFERENCES: 
non. T. Kempsball, Hon. Sam’l G. Andrews, J. B. Bennett, Esq. 
“ A. Champion, * J. Emereon, Eagle Bank. 
LTON’S 
COPPER LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR. 
Patented Jult 11, 1852. 
T HE SUBSCRIBERS, successors to Brittain A Edmunds, are 
Proprietors of this Patent for the ten Western comities of New 
York, the States of Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Ken¬ 
tucky, Tennessee, and Minnesota Territory. 
They are manufacturers of these celebrated Conductors, and are 
E .red to furnish them with the appropriate apparattis, to all parties 
lg tlie right to territory, in any quantity, and on short notice. 
Tile rods are put up in eases convenient for transportation, with the 
full complement of fixtures inclosed. Each case contains twenty-five 
Conductors; each Conductor comprises forty feet of copper, one 
electro-plated or gilded branch point, seven insulators, and fastenings. 
They are furnished to agents by the case; with the exclusive right 
to dispose of them to he used in certain described territory, on very 
advantageous terms 
Applications for Agency, orders for stock or models and all commu¬ 
nications relating to this biLsiness will receive immediate attention, if 
addressed to BRITTAIN A MARSH, 
401 tf Lockport, Niagara Co, N. Y. 
I'if- Circulars sent on application. 
BOGARDUS iV LEWIS, 
Operative Lithographers and Engravers, No. 230 Main St, 
Buffalo. N. Y. 
J D. Bogakdus. [38Gwc] Joseph Lewis 
-A_ S T O R, HE' OUSE, 
s a 5 O I* E R DAY. 
TITHE FOURTH “SEVEN YEARS’ LEASE,” COMMENCED 
X in May, 1857, will end May 1st, 1864. This House is conducted 
upon the same system that lias distinguished its hitherto. 
A Restaurant has been added for Merchants doing business in its 
vicinity. 77* Restaurant is entirely independent of the Astor House. 
Especial care taken of the sick. 
Families will find this one of the coolest Hotels in New York during 
the summer, mid the Ladies’ Department perfect in all that pro¬ 
duces real comfort 
The City Railroad Cars starting from the doors, enable guests to 
reach the upper part of the City with facility. The small Cars bring 
passengers from the New Haven and Boston Station, 27th Street to 
die immediate front of die Hotel. 
Grateful for the past I intend to deserve future favors- Patrons are 
respectfully requested to give nodee of their intended visit 
403y 1 u,rl 
C. A. STETSON. 
THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD CO. 
O FFER FOR SALE OVER 1,500,000 ACRES SELECTED 
Farming and Wood Lands in Tracts of Forty acres and upwards, 
to suit purchasers, on 
Lontf Credit* and at Low Bate* of Interest. 
Pamphlets, containing Maps, description of Lands, mid other infor¬ 
mation valuable to the Western Emigrant w ill lie sent free of postage 
by addressing JOHN CORNING, 
General Agent Buffalo, N. Y 
JOHN WILSON, Land Coin’r I. C. It. R, Chicago, I1L 358ti 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LEADING WEEKLY 
Agricultural, Literary anil Family Newspaper, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY 
BY I). D. T. MOOIiE, KOCIIE8TKK, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court House. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year— $1 for six months. To @lnba 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, and any additional number at the Baine rate, ($1,50 per 
copy.) As we are obliged to pre-pay the American postage on papers 
Bent to the British Provinces, our Canadian agents and friends must 
add 12% cents per copy to the club rates for the Rural The lowest 
price of copies sent to Europe, Ac, is $2 50,— including postage. 
I3P* Subscribers wishing their papers changed from one Post-Office 
to another, should be particular in specifying the offices at which they 
are now received. 
Advertising — Brief mid appropriate advertisements will be 
inserted at 25 cents a line, each insertion, payable in advance. Our 
rule is to give no advertisement unless very brief) more than four can 
secutive insertions. Patent Medicines, Ac. are not advertised in the 
Rural on any conditions. 
