196 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
JUNE 12 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HERE COMES SUMMER. 
nr GEO. A. HAMILTON. 
Here comeg Summer, lightly tripping, 
O’er each hill bo gaily skipping, 
Gilding soon each leafy bower, 
Now with sunshine, then with ghowe 
Joy and plenty now entwine. 
Meadows glowing, 
Workmen mowing, 
Cheerful with the Summer time. 
Here comes Summer, joyous bounding. 
With its cheerful echos sounding: 
Now each hill and vale is bright, 
Basking in the golden light— 
Beauty now fulfills her part; 
Golden hours, 
Birds and flowers, 
Cheering on the human heart. 
Here comes Summer, rich with blessing! 
Early fruits each “ board ” are pressing; 
Farmers to their fields away, 
Active all the Summer’s day— 
Cheerful, hopeful, all along. 
Flowing, sowing. 
Heaping, mowing, 
Hearts arise in grateful song. 
Here is Summerl harvests whit’ning, 
Showers descending with the lightning; 
Thunders rolling fierce and loud, 
Rainbow painted on the cloud; 
O, how wond’rous are His ways, 
Bending o'er us, 
Kind and glorious, 
Awake my heart in grateful praise! 
Here is Summer, gay and smiling, 
Hope awaking, fear beguiling— 
Fair and tranquil smiles each river, 
Flowing onward, onward ever! 
Jpin each murmur heart and voice, 
Cheerly singing, 
Echo ringing, 
Man with Nature may rejoice! 
Here is Summer, warm and glowing, 
Nature’s richest gifts bestowing; 
Now earth’s fullest bounties given— 
Time of gratitude to heaven: 
So my heart shall gladly raise, 
Full and free, 
ily God to Thee, 
Summer’s song of heart-felt praise. 
South Butler, N. Y., 1858. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALICE MILLARD’S DISOBEDIENCE; 
OR, 
TOO LATE TO BE FORCIVEN. 
BY CARKIK GRAY CROOKS. 
It was a pleasant school house, where Alice 
went to school, built of stone, with pretty green 
blinds, and amply large for the four departments 
into which it was divided. Could you have passed 
through those light, airy rooms, where so many 
bright, eager faces were bent upon their hooks, and 
from thence into the delightful play-ground which 
surrounded the building, I think you would have 
said at once, “ these children must be very happy.” 
The day on which my story commences, was one 
of a good deal of interest to the Misses, who, owing 
to their advancement in their studies, were entitled 
to a seat in “ Department No. Two.” This depart 
ment, which was next in standing to the one under 
the immediate care of the Principal, had long been 
under the charge of Miss Williams, an elderly lady, 
whose education was superior, but whose harsh 
manner and morose disposition, though they had 
awed her pupils into submission, had so alienated 
their affections, that at the close of the last term, 
as she announced her intention of leaving, there 
might have been seen (a few minutes after the 
dismission) a whole cloud of sun-bonnets in the air, 
while the merriment w’as accompanied by the glee¬ 
ful song, 
“ There’s a good time coming girls, 
Wait a little longer.” 
But this morning wa3 to commence a new term. 
’Twas only a little after eight o’clock, yet many of 
the scholars had already assembled, particularly 
those who belonged in No. Two. Seats were to be 
selected or exchanged, desks to he arranged, and 
much to he said about the new teacher. As many 
applications had been made for the situation, ’twas 
not generally known who would take Miss Wil¬ 
liams’ place. But as Mary Bra word came in with 
her satchel full of books,—“ now we shall know,” 
they exclaimed in one breath, “ for her father is 
one of the trustees.” Yes, Mary could tell them. 
“It is Miss Annie Wilmerding, Col. Ellingwood’s 
niece,” replied Mary- to a hoste of inquiries. “I saw 
her this morning, as I called at the Colonel’s with 
father.” 
“Does she look like Miss Williams?” interrupt¬ 
ed Alice Millard, who had been a very eager 
listener. 
“Oh! no, not at all!” replied the almost indig¬ 
nant girl. “ She is very small, and has the sweetest 
face lever saw. Why, Alice!” she continued, “I 
am sure you will like her, for she plays the piano 
so well. She played and sang a sweet tune for us. 
I think her playing is better than your music 
teacher's.” Alice was prevented from replying by 
one of the large girls, who, with a curious expres¬ 
sion on her face, whispered, as she partly hid her¬ 
self behind the blind, but continued gazing out of 
the window, “she is coming — she is coming!” 
which was echoed by a score of voices, until a light 
step within the hall hushed them all into quietude. 
It was a bright May morning, and as the mild 
sunshine stole in through the half-open window, 
resting here and there on the objects in the room- 
now throwing a golden beam across the nicely 
swept floor, then dancing over eager, youthful 
faces, and at last resting on some sunny head, 
Annie Wilmerding came with a light heart into 
the school-room, and uietly bidding the girls 
good-morning, passed to her desk. After removing 
her bonnet and shawl, the first thing her blue eye 
caught sight of, was a tiny bunch of early violets, 
which had been placed upon her table apparently 
for her. This little token of advanced love pleased 
Miss Wilmerding, and gathering them carefully in 
her hand, she seemed to admire them much, then 
turning towards the girls, she said,—“ I must thank 
some little lady for these pretty early flowers,” and 
inquired if they grew near. A number of pairs of 
little ruby lips were ready to reply, and aftertalking 
familiarly with them a few minutes, and proposing 
to accompany them some day in search of flowers, 
she placed the violets in her bodice, and turning 
to her desk agaiD, she left the girls to their own 
thoughts. 
Soon the hell rang, summoning them to prayers 
in the Principal’s room. After a chapter had been 
read from the Bible, and the mild voice of their 
beloved Principal been lifted in prayer, then fol¬ 
lowed a few remarks upon the favorable re opening 
of school, after which Miss Wilmerding was intro¬ 
duced. As she simply asked for a kind place in 
the hearts of those who were to be under her care, 
many an affectionate girl seemed ready to reply,— 
“we will love you very much.” 
* * * * * * 
Pleasantly, indeed, the weeks flew by. The girls 
in No. Two did finely, and Annie had the blessed 
assurance of seeing her pupils improve under her 
care. 
Alice Millard was generally a favorite with her 
teachers. Perhaps ’twas not because her father 
was wealthy, and a very influential man among the 
villagers, but it may have been because she possess¬ 
ed apparently a mild, sweet temper, and was quick 
to learn, while her habits were characterized by a 
neatness and accuracy beyond what is expected of 
a girl of but twelve summers. 
Miss Wilmerding had no favorites, or if she had, 
they seemed to be those neglected ones, whose un¬ 
interesting faces, or untidy clothes, are apt to make 
too great a distance between teacher and scholar. 
In this Alice was disappointed. She expected to 
hear the new teacher praise her writing, or com¬ 
mend her aptness and accuracy in reckoning, the 
first week—and, in short, to pronounce her the 
first in her class. But instead of this, Miss Wil- 
mekding seemed to look upon her advancement as 
a matter of fact, and often spoke to the little girl 
privately of her superior advantages to those of 
many of her class-mates, whose parents were poor, 
and unable to allow them to devote all of their 
time to the improvement of their minds; and 
would tell her how much she could do to aid such, 
while so many were assisting her. True, Alice 
could find no fault with this, but she had been so 
often held up publicly as an example for the school, 
she expected such a course would continue. 
Miss Wilmerding was skilled in drawing, and as 
Alice and some others had acquired a taste for it, 
she was induced to devote the afternoon of each 
Saturday in instructing a class in this accomplish¬ 
ment It was not possible for many to attend, as 
it incurred an extra expense for both tuition and 
materials, but a sufficient number bad been found, 
and the school was about to be organized. The 
Friday preceding the meeting of the class, a list 
of the names was read before the school by the 
teacher, and among the rest was Susan Lane. 
Alice started from her seat—some gave a look of 
disgust, w’hile all wondered how Susan could at¬ 
tend the class, for she was the poorest gill in 
school—her father being dead, her mother was 
obliged to provide for a large family, and as she 
could get but little work, they were poorly fed and 
very scantily clothed. To be sure, Susan had a 
bright eye and beautiful black hair, which she always 
kept very nicely combed, but the school girls had 
looked upon her as a mere cypher, for she could 
scarcely read a word, and as she said so little, they 
thought her hardly worthy of notice. But by some 
means Miss Wilmerding had succeeded in having 
her removed fror- a junior department to her own, 
and, unobserved by all, acquainted herself with the 
taste and disposition of the neglected child, and 
finding her a rough diamond, had determined to 
encourage her at once by this promotion. True, 
she would never receive any dollars and cents for 
her pains, but this was not her object 
Duly the little class was gathered at the ap¬ 
pointed time in the school-room. Susan, with the 
rest, each well supplied with the necessary materials, 
and as the timid girl took a seat apart from the 
rest,—as if they would be contaminated by her 
touch,—Miss Annie (as the young ladies sometimes 
familiarly called their teacher,) interfered, and gave 
her a seat at the desk of Alice. Then calling 
Alice after her, Miss Annie passed into the hall, 
and there confided to her, her plans respecting 
Susan, and asked Alice’s assistance. She said 
that she had found Susan had a natural taste for 
sketching, and she thought by cultivation she 
would become an adept; and closed by saying, 
that she meant to give her all the assistance and 
instruction in her power, and wished Alice to en¬ 
courage her by her attention and kindness, both 
in and out of school. 
Alice listened with well-feigned interest, and 
hiding her reluctance, promised to do all that was 
required. The little girl made rapid advancement, 
much to the surprise of the class,—nor was her im¬ 
provement confined to the pencil and drawing-paper 
alone, hut the timely attention of the teacher seemed 
to give her a fresh impetus in all in which she en 
gaged. But Alice did not like to have it said that 
Susan Lane would some day equal, if not exceed, 
Mr. Millard's daughter in her attainments. Con¬ 
sequently she secretly determined to mortify and 
discourage Susan in some way, and make her re¬ 
alize her dependence. Therefore, to mature her 
plans, she made a very uDjust and unkind remark, 
in a way to reach Mrs. Lane’s ears, to this effect:— 
Susan monopolized so much of Miss Annie’s time 
and attention during study hours, that others had 
not the same chance for improvement, and that she 
would yet be the means of Miss Wilmerding losing 
the desirable and lucrative position of Preceptress 
Yes—yes, this had the desired effect. From that 
day Susan absented herself from the drawing class, 
as well as from school. She had looked upon 
Alice as (indeed she appeared to he) her best 
friend, and this was an unlooked for humiliation. 
She was too ignorant to understand that it would 
be no injury to her, and too truthful herself to 
think of its being a falsehood; but believing that 
she was despised on this account by all the girls, 
nothing could induce her to join them again. To 
the teacher it was a mystery. She frequently in¬ 
terrogated the girls as to the reason, but none 
seemed to know. She was told by a neighbor, that 
Susan’s mother was a very exacting woman, and 
probably she had been sent away to work, to help 
support the family. But the truth was, to rid her¬ 
self from the questionings of her teacher, Susan 
went away from home to seek employment,—while 
Alice rested in the lap of luxury, and basked in 
the sunshine of her teacher’s approval. 
Often-times, as her eye fell on the vacant seat of 
the wronged one, did Alice's conscience smite 
her—when she would promise herself to seek her 
teacher, when alone—throw herself at her feet, con¬ 
fess all, and ask her forgiveness, but as often pride 
prevented. 
One day a stranger took Miss Wilmkrdino’s 
place at school, bringing news that their teacher 
was ill,—confined to her room by a severe head¬ 
ache, but was in hopes to be with them soon.— 
’Twas not until then that the girls realized how 
well they loved the gentle Annie. The lady who 
filled her place, attended promptly to recitations, 
and seemed ready to assist them in their studies, 
but something was lacking. It could only be sup¬ 
plied by the winning and unselfish manner of Miss 
Annie. 
The night of the third day after the stranger 
took charge of the girls, as Alice sauntered down 
the gravel walk which led to her father’s handsome 
dwelling, she met Miss Annie's uncle, whose agitat¬ 
ed look alarmed her. In a moment a fearful fore¬ 
boding seized ber. What if her kind teacher should 
oie! She thought of her own disobedience, of her 
dreadful guilt, but recovering herself she inquired 
after ber. 
“Ah!” replied the old Col., while a tear-drop 
stood in bis eye, “ I fear she will never be with you 
again.” 
Alice was too deeply grieved to say more, hut 
hurried home, and reaching her room, gave way 
to a flood of tears. “No, no,” said she to herself, 
* Miss Wilmerding must recover, I can never give 
her up. Why, why have I been so unkind—why so 
wicked. She may have learned my disobedience, 
and this may be one cause of ber illness. Oh l I 
vimt see her, I must ask her forgiveness.” 
She waited awhile to calm herself, then, obeying 
the summons of the tea bell, she descended to the 
dining room. Here she found her mother, who 
had just returned from the sufferer’s couch. The 
swollen eyes and pallid cheeks of Mrs. Millard 
told Alice too plainly, it was not a needless alarm. 
She begged her mother to let her go to Miss 
Annie’s room immediately. But this could not be 
allowed. The patient was suffering from a disease 
of the brain, and the physician requested the most 
perfect quietude for the night, as her life seemed 
to hang on the hope of a few short hours. 
Things looked very dark to the wretched girl, 
but the bitter, scalding tears could not wash away 
her heart's deep sorrow. Her mother soothed her 
by gentle, loving words; hut she could only be pre¬ 
vailed upon to take her rest, by the promise of 
seeing Miss Annie in the morning. ’Twas a long, 
dark night to Alice. Her sleep was troubled—at 
one moment she would dream that her teacher 
had recovered, resumed her place at school, and 
had truly but tearfully forgiven her—that Susan 
was welcomed at her desk again,— but the next, 
she thought she felt the faint pressure of a hand 
already chilled by the pangs of death, and the 
touch, as of a frozen lip, upon her brow, then hear¬ 
ing some one say,—“ The silver cord is loosed, the 
golden bowl broken,” she looked, and thought she 
saw Miss Annie with her small white hands folded 
in death, her meek bine eyes still half open, and 
seemingly fixed anxiously on the weeping face of 
Susan Lane, who knelt beside the bed. 
It was very early dawn when Alice stole quietly 
from her loom, and, without permission, hastened 
to the house of Col. Ellingwood. As she paused 
upon the marble steps to gain for her sick heart a 
moment’s strength, she glanced at the window that 
looked from Miss Annie’s room. It was open, and 
the shutters thrown wide apart, and she took fresh 
courage, for she fancied the invalid better, and 
perhaps bolstered in her chair to enjoy the fragrant 
morning air. Gently, very gently did the trembling 
hand pull the door-bell, lest it might disturb the 
sick one. But no answer. She would not ring 
again, for all might be well, and the weary watchers 
lost in a quiet sleep. So pushing aside the door, 
which already stood ajar, she passed within. All 
was still. She hesitated while standing in the 
richly furnished hall, whether or no she dared to 
seek Miss Annie’s room. While standing there, 
she looked through the open door of the parlor, 
until her eye rested upon the piano, whose keys 
seemed yet almost to tremble, ’twas so lately they 
had charmed her ear by the touch of her beloved 
teacher. Y’es, there was the open page yet, from 
which she so lately had taught her a much admired 
tune. Then fresh tears filled Alice’s eyes, but she 
bethought herself, arfd sought the housekeeper, 
who she knew was a friend of hers, and loved Miss 
Annie too well to deny her request. She found 
her in a darkened room, where the dim light fore- 
hade her reading the crushing answer to her ques¬ 
tion—“How is Miss Wilmerding, this morning?” 
“She is dead! my child.” 
* * * * * * 
’Twas many long hours e’er Alice found strength 
to enter the chamber of death. How strange all 
seemed, it was the same room in which she had 
passed many pleasant hours with Miss Annie — 
there was her writing desk, her books, and close 
beside the open window was the low ottoman, 
where she often sat while girlish faces were up¬ 
turned when listening to her tales, which taught 
them “ much of wisdom and of love.” There were 
fresh flowers, too, in a tiny china cup upon the 
stand, where Miss Annie always placed them—but 
where was the one who had watched for their bud¬ 
ding? Ah! Alice’s wild dream was all re-called, 
she gazed upon that placid face. Vainly she press¬ 
ed to her bleeding heart the stiffened form, which 
for the first time gave her no returning embrace. 
Vainly her heart’s confession trembled on her lip 
—that ear unheeded all. Her much loved teacher 
was dead—and she, all unforgiven. 
******** 
Long yearshave passed since that gentle teacher 
was laid to rest But they have wrought their 
changes. Alice Millard is far away from the 
scenes of her childhood, hut she has never forgot¬ 
ten her last act of disobedience to Miss Wilmer¬ 
ding, and as she mingles with the glad of earth, a 
tear will start as the memory of that dear one is 
recalled, and she “fain would yield up half of life’s 
long years” if that dark stain could be erased; nor 
does she think herself forgiven, although the 
wronged girl has long since been sought out from 
her abode of wretchedness, and taken with a sis¬ 
ter’s love to her heart and to her ample home, and 
all the advantages of a superior education placed 
within her reach. But she enjoys the assurance of 
knowing, that she has lived to see a dear wish of 
Miss anna’s gratified, while her truthful prophecy 
has been fulfilled; for in a flourishing seminary of 
learning in a southern city, Miss Susan Lane 
holds an enviab e position as the “ Celebrated 
Teacher of Drawing and Painting.” 
Honeoye, N. Y., 1858. 
Aoriculttral Humor. —Of the Amherst (Mass.) 
Cattle Show, the Springfield Republican says:— 
“There is a quaint humor in the making up of the 
committees upon stock, Ac., w r hich is a new feature 
in Cattle Shows. For instance:—The committee 
on cattle, upon the principle that ‘He who drives 
fat oxen should himself he fat,’ was composed of 
eight gentlemen whose aggregate weight is over 
two thousand pounds! Then the committee on 
calves (most impudent selection!) was wholly com¬ 
posed of the members of the last Legislature. The 
committee on fowls were gentlemen from several 
towns about here, all blessed with the name of 
Fowle. But the happiest thing, and one that really 
had a good grain of satire in it, was the committee 
upon maple sugar. This was made up of ‘ sweet¬ 
hearts,’ three gentlemen and three ladies, who were 
known to be engaged to he married, being upon it. 
Poor things! Those who appointed them knew 
that it was only right that they should nibble a lit¬ 
tle sugar now, to make some small amends for the 
future, that lies so near before them.” 
A fashionable doctor lately informed his 
friends, a large company, that he had been pass¬ 
ing some days in the country. “ Yes,” said one 
of the party, “ it has been announced in one of 
the journals.” “ Ah,” said the doctor, stretching 
his neck very importantly, “ pray, in what terms?” 
“In what terms? Why, as well as I can remem¬ 
ber, nearly in the following:—‘There were last 
week seventy-seven interments less than the week 
before.’ ” 
- ■ —- -- 
Young ladies should not write poetical love- 
letters. It is dangerous. Such a one was written 
to a Kentucky beau, not long since, which so af¬ 
fected him that he stole a horse to go and see the 
writer, and got into jail to pay for getting in love 
with a poetess. 
“SnoN,”said a Dutchman, “you may say what 
you please ’bout had neighbors; I had te vorst 
neighbors as never was. Mine pigs and mine hens 
come home mit dere ears split, and todder day two 
of dem come home missing.” 
“ Do you know the prisoner, Mr. Jones?” “ Yes, 
to the bone.” “ What is his character?” “Didn’t 
know that he had any.” “ Dose he live near you?” 
“ So near that he has only spent five shillings for 
firewood in eight years.” 
Several editors at the west are disputing about 
the comparative length of the ears of corn they 
have received. It is a pity that they can find 
nothing better to boast of than the length of their 
ears! 
A gentleman being asked by a lady if the 
Parisian ladies were handsome, replied : — “I 
thought so, madam, before I had the pleasure of 
seeing you.” 
-•*.«- 
Scarlet Fever. — The Balmoral petticoat, is 
spreading—its red glories are radiating, and soon 
every town and village will blaze with its splendor. 
If girls would have roses for their cheeks, they 
must do as the roses do—go to sleep with the lilies, 
and get up with the morning glories. 
“ Sam, how did you like that knife I sold you 
last week?” “ So, so. It is not very sharp, hut you 
managed to shave me with it” 
gult’trtijstnuntsi. 
KETCHUPfl’S REAPER AND MOWER. 
II. Ij. HOWARD’S 
Cash Premium List for 1858! 
T. C. PETERS, DARIEN, GENESEE COUNTY, N. Y., 
UMPIRE, TO AWARD PREMIUMS. 
For Moore’s Knral New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 59 letters. 
My 14, 15, 23, 40, 5, 59, 50 is a boy’s name. 
My 47, 51, 50, 54, 35, 44, 49 is a kind of fruit 
My 25, 69, 41, G, 48 is a kind of tree. 
My 30, 3, 19, 13, 8 is a valuable animal. 
My 40, 39, 25, 12, 50 is a kind of bird. 
My 31, 33, 0, 7, 8, 20 is a kind of fish. 
My 1, 2, 17, 21, 34 is a kind of grain. 
My 0, 27, 52, 44, 10, 12, 50, 29 is a girl’s name. 
My 32, 37, 42, 58, 49, 20 is a river in New York. 
My 4, 5, 56, 53 is a kind of liquor. 
My 9, 33, 0, 55 is a kind of fowl. 
My 11, 17, 46, 23, 45, 14 is a primitive color. 
My 15, 19, 18, 50 is a malleable metal. 
My 20, 51, 56, 29, 21 is the cause of much trouble. 
My 22, 30, 38, 41 is a piece of money. 
My 43, 52, 53, 47 is what we sometimes do. 
My 28, 21, 30, 50 is what we should not be. 
My 10, 0, 11, 35, 30, 37 is an agricultural implement 
My whole is a poetical extract 
Cadiz, Cat., Co., N. Y., 1858. U n. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
POETICAL ENIGMA. 
My form is slender and frail—my complexion is light, 
I am active in business and appear rather bright; 
I was drawn from my bed where in contentment I lay, 
Banged, beaten, and bruised, in a most savage way; 
My temper aroused and it yet remains high, 
I would break soonofcthan bend, such firmness have I. 
I am made of high stuff as my looks plainly show, 
And innocent blood I oft cause to flow: 
I cause premature death—many a heart-rendiDg sigh, 
Yet the tear of affliction never moistened my eye. 
I am the tool of peace-makers and render my aid 
In closing up breaches imprudently made; 
I work for the living—I work for the dead— 
But for me many thousands would lack daily bread. 
I am pushed, pulled and twitched from morning till night, 
My motions are swift as a bird’s in its flight; 
No creature on earth is more useful than I, 
You cannot live without me, it’s of no use to try— 
I seek not your pity nor your sympathies claim, 
All the favor I ask is to just tell my name. 
Honeoye Falls, N. Y., 1858. J. C. Jch'r. 
Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN NO. 438. 
First Premium, ----- $150 00 
Second Premium, - - - - 100 00 
Third Premium, ----- 100 00 
Fourth Premium, - - - - 50 00 
Fifth Premium, ----- 25 00 
I N order to advance the interests of Agriculture more effectually 
than I can by spending money in attending public trials, which 
often are very unsatisfactory to the public, I offer the following 
premiums: 
1st.—ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS 
To the farmer who shall cut the greatest number of acres of grass and 
grain, in the shortest time, in the best manner, and with the least ex¬ 
pense, with Ketchum's Combined Machine, manufactured this year, 
during the ensuing harvest 
2d.—ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS 
To the farmer who shall cut with any Ketchum Combined Machine, 
no: less than fifty acres of grass and fifty acres of grain in like maimer. 
3d,—ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS 
To the farmer who shall cut one hundred acres of grass, wilh any 
Ketchum Mower, in like manner. 
4th—FIFTY DOLLARS 
To the farmer, who shall cut fifty acres of grass, in like manner, with 
any Ketchum Mower. 
5 th.—TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS 
To the farmer, who shall harvest twenty acres of clover seed, with any 
Ketchum Machine, in like manner. 
Tiie grass must yield not loss than one and a half tons te the acre. 
The said work to lie done with machines manufactured by the sub¬ 
scriber, at Buffalo, N. Y. 
Farmers competing for tire above premiums shall forward an affida¬ 
vit or affidavits, setting forth tire facts, viz: the kind of land, crop and 
amount thereot per acre, the quality of work, length of stubble, time 
occupied, giving the hours, and the expense incurred for lalxrr or re¬ 
pairs, stating each item and such other circumstances as may be 
proper, together with the number of tho machine and the year pur¬ 
chased, to T. C. Peters, of Darien, Gen. Co., N. Y, before the 1st of 
September next, who shall have the privilege of making or having 
a personal examination made, or may require additional proof before 
making his award. 
I will furnish blanks for affidavits to any person, and reserve tho 
privilege of publishing any of the statements and the awards in my 
next circular. Two premiums shall not Is; awarded to the same person. 
The result of accurate trials of tins kind, will enable the public to 
Judge with more certainty of the value of Heaping and Mowing Ma¬ 
chines compared with the scythe and cradle, than can lie done at trials 
as usually conducted, for the reason that so small a quantity of either 
grass or grain is cut, that it is difficult for Committees to judge with 
scrupulous accuracy of the features and capacity of the different ma¬ 
chine* R. Ij. HOWARD, 
Manufacturer of Kctchum's Combined Harvesters. 
Buffalo. May 21, 1858. __ 439 
KIRBY’S AMERICAN HARVESTER. 
rpms CELEBRATED MACHINE which was awarded tho 
L Silver Meihi. at the great National Trial at Syracuse, by the 
United States Ag'l Society, and which has never failed to give entire 
satisfaction to tlie public wherever used, is now ready for sale. 
It is certainly the cheapest and easiest draft machine now made, 
weighing as a Mower only GOO pounds, and as a Combined Machine 
only 850 pounds. The most important feature of the machine is the 
independent action of the knife bar, which adapts it-elf to the uneven 
sin face of the field, whether it bo ridge or furrow. The most satisfac¬ 
tory references and a descriptive pamphlet may be had by calling on 
Messrs. Harnkt, Whiteside A Garrison. Brockport, or at the Ag'l 
Warehouse of J. Rapai.ib, 65 Buffalo St, Rochester, where machines 
may tie examined All orders and inquiries addressed to the under¬ 
signed will receive prompt attention. 
,T. A. KI tBY, Traveling AgT, Brockport, N. Y., or 
H. C. WHITE, Roche ster, N . Y.__ 
THE NEW fORK SELF-RARING REAPER, 
WITH MOWER COMBINED. 
SEYMOUR & MORCAN’S PATENT, 
Improved for the Harvest of 1858. 
A S A REAPER it is more simple, and less liable to get out of 
repair than any other Self Raker,—is easier tor the team than 
any hand-raker of equal width of cut—leaves a clean stubble of any 
desirable height I takes off the gTain better than is ordinarily done 
by the best hand rakes. The size of the bundle is easily regulated by 
a slight pressure of the driver's foot, and is operated with the least 
possible amount of manual labor. 
The Self- Raker was awarded the First Premium at the National 
Trial in J uly last 
As A Mower, it is lighter In draught than many machines which 
cut less width of swathleaves the cut grass in good erudition, and 
starts at any point without backing to get up motion of the knife before 
coming to the grass The motion of the knife is changed from slow, 
for reaping, to fast, for mowing, by using different sized pinions,—se¬ 
curing a high motion when necessary, and avoiding it, and the conse¬ 
quent loss of power Htid wear of the gearing, when unnecessary. The 
same cutter bar is used for troth reaping and mowing, and tho machine 
is easily and quickly converted to serve either purpose 
For quality of material and workmanship, strength, durability and 
efficiency, it is, as manufactured by us, not excelled as a combined 
machine 
We raannfftctnre two size*,—one entting five feet, designed for two 
horses ; the other cutting six feet or more, designed for four horses, 
(may be user! with two) Circulars containing price, terms, testimo¬ 
nials. blank orders, Ac, will be sent on application to ns. 
SEYMOUR, MORGAN A AI.LEV, 
<32tf Brockport, N. Y. 
SUPERIOR LAND PLASTER! 
F RENCH A CHAPPELL, 69 Exchange St- (Successors to 
Sbcrtuff A Smith, at old Stand,) keep on hand for Fanners’ 
use, Garbutt's Celebrated Land Plaster. One Dollar invested 
in Plaster returns Fifty to the Fanner 
Of-SOMBRERO GUANO, a superior article, for sale in any 
quantity by F. A C. as above. _ 435tf 
PRINCE Sz CCPS 
IWPROV ED PATENT 111 EL OD EON. 
C 't EO. A. PRINCE A CO., Manufacturers, Buffalo, N. Y — 
X Wholesale Depot, 87 Fulton Kt, New York, and 110 Lake St, 
Chicago, III Combining till of their recent Improvements—the Divi¬ 
ded Swell, Organ, Melodeou, Ac., Ac. 
The Divided Swell eun only be Obtained In 
Alelodeona of our Manufacture. 
PRICES OF PORTABLE INSTRUMENTS 
Four Octave, O to O.S 45 
Four mid a Half Octave, CtoF. GO 
Five Octave, F to F. 75 
B'ive Octave, Double Reed, F to F. 13d 
ORGAN MELODEON. 
Two Banks of Keys, Five Sets of Reeds, Eight Stops, One and a 
nail' Octave Foot Pedals, One Set of Reeds in Pedal Bass In¬ 
dependent .--.$351) 
PRICKS OF PIANO CASED 
Five Octave, F to F.S}*™ 
Six Octave, F to F. 13“ 
Five Octave, Double Reed, FtoF. LG 
Five Octave, Two Banks of Keys. 
[From the Home Journal, April 3,1858.] 
The Melodeous manufactured by Prince A Co., and for sale at 87 
Fulton 6treet, are the best in the world. We have tried them, and 
therefore speak understanding^ of their merits. They are afforded 
at a very moderate cost 
Wholesale Agents.—R ussell A Richardson, Boston. Mass — 
W. F. Colburn, Cincinnati, O. Balrner A Weber, St Louis, Mo. 
Ph. P. Werlein, New Orleans. 
This is the oldest Establishment in the United States, Employing 
200 Men, and Finishing 80 Instruments per Week. 
All Melodeons of our manufacture, either sold by us or dealers in 
any part of the United States or Canadas, are warranted to be per¬ 
fect in every respect, and should any repairs be necessary before the 
expiration of one year from date of sale, we hold ourselves ready and 
willing to make the same free of charge, provided the injury is not 
caused by accident or design. __ 
GEORGE A. PRINCE «fc CO. 
Agents, for the sale of our Melodeous, may lie found in all the prin¬ 
cipal cities and towns of the United States and Canadas. 435 
Answer to] Miscellaneous Enigma: — Francis 
iightfoot Lee. 
Answer to Charade:—Snow. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem: — 254 .0472 
ailes. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
TH* LEADING WEEKLY 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERT SATURDAT 
UY ». D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. XI. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court House. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year—$1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, tor $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 same rate, ($1,50 per 
copy.) As we are obliged to pre-pay the American postage on papal 
sent 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. 
Advertising — Brief and 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 con 
secutive insertions. Patent Medicines, Ac. are not advertised in tbs 
Rural on any conditions. 
PUBLISHER’S SPECIAL NOTICES. 
Clubbing with the Magazines, Ac.—We will send the Rural 
New-Yorker for 1858, and a yearly copy of either The Aitantic, 
Harper’s, Godex/s, Graham's, or any other $3 magazine for $4- Tba 
Rural and either The Horticutturigt, Uove]/t Magazine, Arthur’s 
Magazine, or any other $2 magazine for $3. 
Additions to Clubs are now in order. Any person having 
sent in a club of 6 to 18 can add one twft five, or more, at the lowest 
club price—$1,50 per copy. 
fy Ant pereon so disposed can act as local agent for the Rural 
without certificate and each a»d all who volunteer in the good cause 
will not only receive premiume but their aid wil) be appreciated. 
fjJF- Subscribers wishing their papers changed from one Post-Office 
to another, should be particular in specifying the offices at which 1 
are now received. 
