396 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
DEC. 4 
WE, TOO, HAVE OUR AUIUMNS. 
.BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
W 2 , too, have autumns, when our leaves 
Drop loosely through the dampened air, 
When all our good seems bound in sheaves, 
And we stand reaped and bare. 
Our seasons have no fixed returns, 
Without our will they come and go ; 
At noon our sudden summer burns, 
Ere sunset all is snow. 
But each day brings less summer cheer, 
Crimps more our ineffectual spring, 
And something earlier every year 
Our singing birds take wing. 
As less the olden glow abides, 
And less the chiller heart aspires, 
With drift-wood beached in past spring-tides 
We light our sullen fires. 
By the pinched rushlight’s starving beam 
We cower and strain our wasted sight, 
To stitch youth’s shroud up, Eeam by 6eam, 
In the long Arctic night. 
It was not so—we once were young— 
When Spring, to womanly Summer turning, 
Her dewdrops on each grass-blade strung, 
In the red sunrise burning. 
We trusted then, aspired, believed 
That earth could be re-made to-morrow ;— 
Ah, why be ever undeceived ? 
Why give up faith for sorrow ? 
O, thou, whose days are yet all spring, 
Trusted, blighted once, is past retrieving ; 
Experience is a dumb, dead thing ; 
The victory’s in believing. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MAGGIE CRAIN, 
THE FISHERMAN’S DAUCHTER. 
BY LUCY BROWNING. 
Evening cloned in. Sereiiely fair was the shy, 
and the round, full moon in the east, paled by the 
rosy streaks of daylight that still lingered in the 
silent heavens, shed a dainty light over the blue 
waters of Lake Ontario. Wan, flickering Btars 
peeped timidly out from azure belts, edged with 
golden folds. But away over the broad sheet, in 
the west, where the golden arrows of light were 
the broadest, stretched a long, dark line. Darker, 
and broader, and higher it grew, and higher still 
it climbed, till a heavy, sullen cloud hangover the 
sunset brightness, like a sable pall over the un¬ 
timely bier of youth and beauty. On it went, and 
all the sweet light died out from all the earth, as 
the light of love from the cold eye of the dying. 
Great, moaning billows, began to heave and swell 
on the blackened bosom of the lake, and the chill 
November wind rose, gusty and violent, and roare< 
in the tops of the tall, skeleton trees, or, hull 1 ,.- 
from their frail resting places, with a gloom - 
rustling sound, the dead leaves that still ciuDg to 
the withered parent stem. The blue smoke, which 
all day long nad curled so peacefully from t 
chimneys of the fishermen’s huts that dotted tb< 
marshy lake shore, was now beaten hack on t 
brown roofs, or borne rapidly away by the driving 
winds. In one of these low huts—a time-honored 
log one—close in the chimney corner, by the side 
of a huge fire that flamed, and crackled, and roared, 
as if in time with the fierce elements abroad, sat a 
pale, feeble-looking woman, and, by the crutches 
that leaned against the arm of the great high- 
backed, calico-covered rocking-chair in which 
she sat, it was evident that she was a cripple. 
“ Maggie,” said she, dropping her knitting-work, 
and addressing a fair-haired, rosy-cheeked maiden, 
who was turning a spinning-wheel to the time of 
a blithe air which she hummed, “Maggie, what 
does all this clatter mean? Will yon just step to 
the window, and see if a storm is coming on?” 
“Ola dreadful one, I fear, mother,” Baid the 
girl, as she drew hack the clean calico curtain, 
“for the clouds are woefully dark and heavy, and 
they fly so fast” 
“ The Lord have mercy cn ns,” said the elder, 
with a deep sigh, more from habit, however, than 
as an appeal for protection. “ Like enough yonr 
poor father is out on the water, and he’ll have a 
wretched time of it—the Lord only knows whether 
he’ll come home alive.” 
“0, nonsense,” said Maggie, attempting to appear 
unconcerned, though she shuddered at the very 
thought. “You know he is never far from shore 
at nightfall, and he’ll he sure to moor his boat 
when he sees this storm coming, and will come 
home by the path.” 
“Then he’ll lose his way on the marsh, and get 
sunk in the bog, or something or other will happen 
to him.” 
“ Why, many and many a time he’s come by the 
path, and in darker nights than this, and he never 
got lost yet. He knows the way too well.” 
“I know it, child—I know it; hut it seems so 
gloomy-like, as if something awful would happen.” 
“Mother, you are tired and nervous tonight; 
you must not let such strange fancies get hold of 
you.” 
“Perhaps so; hut, for my part, I don’t see how 
you can be so easy about it. I can’t help worrying.” 
Another deep-drawn sigh from the poor cripple 
followed this remark, as Bhe listened to the howl 
ings of the wind, which grew fiercer and fiercer.— 
Daring the pause, Maggie heard some one ap¬ 
proach, whistling a merry hornpipe. She knew 
well that sound. Often and often she had leaned 
over the wicket at eve in the summer time, and 
listened to it as it came mingled with the mellow 
tinkling of the sheep-hells, and the soft low of the 
kine, from the farm beyond; and often had she 
heard it approaching nearer and nearer, while, 
with strained eyes, she watched through the gath¬ 
ering twilight for the first glimpse of the merry 
lad, as he came up the lane leading to her father’s 
door. Presently the rnde wicket swung on its 
hinges with aloud creak. The poor woman started, 
and a look of relief passed over her features as she 
exclaimed,—" He’s come! I hear the gate!” 
“No, its only Robin. I heard him whistling 
just now.” 
The door opened, and Robin Gould, a tall well- 
formed, handsome-faced youth, stepped in. 
“Good evening, Maggie. How do yon do this 
evening, Mrs. Crain? A heavy storm is coming 
up, and I thought maybe Mr. Crain hadn’t got 
home, and you wouldn’t like to be here alone, so I 
dropped in to stay with yon,” said he, while he 
took the chair that Maggie, with a tell-tale blush, 
proffered him. 
“We’re glad you’ve come, for its frightful 
enough to think of the storm and poor Timothy 
out in it, without being alone to brood over it,” 
said Mrs. Crain. 
“0, he’s well enough; probably staying with 
some of the neighbors up the shore,” RoBiN re¬ 
plied cheerfully. 
Mrs. Crain said no more, hut sank hack in her 
chair and closed her eyes. The storm was now 
upon them. The rain poured in torrents, the 
wind roared in the chimney-top, shrieked thr6ugh 
the crannies betwixt the logs, and rattled the loose 
panes, while the whole building shook as with an 
ague fit 
Maggie left her wheel, and drew close to her 
lover. Each strove to be lively, for the sake of 
their melancholy companion; but Robin knew 
that Maggie was ill at ease, by the shadows that 
flitted across her face at every new gust; and 
Maggie knew that Robin had caught her mood, 
by his sudden relapsing into sober silence after 
each effort at cheerfulness. 
“ We’re sorry company for your mother, with 
our ill-concealed blues,” whispered Robin. “ Let’s 
have a game of checkers. There’s nothing like 
beiDg busy to drive away troublesome thoughts.” 
Maggie went to the tall dresser, and drew from 
behind them a board, one side of which was drawn 
in squares and marked with red chalk, for checkers. 
They soon became so absorbed in their game that 
the great wooden pendulum of the old clock— 
which had descended in the ancestral line from 
her great, great grandfather—ticked away, in long 
and measured strides, the passage of time, and eight, 
nine, ten, and eleven, struck on the bell, all un¬ 
heeded by them. Neither did they heed the pale 
cripple, who now drowsed and nodded in her 
chair. Suddenly she started with an unearthly 
shriek, which aroused the attention of the youth¬ 
ful pair. Maggie was soon at her Bide. 
“Mother, dear mother, what is the matter?” 
“ ’Twas a dream, a strange dream. But hasn’t 
your father come yet?” 
“Not yet; the storm isn’t over. He’ll be likely 
to wait for fair weather now.” 
“More likely he’s lost, or he would have been 
here before this time,” she replied, gathering up 
her crutches and hobbling to the window. 
Maggie turned to replenish the fire, and glan¬ 
cing at the time-piece as she did so, exclaimed, 
“Half past eleven!” 
“ Possible?” said Robin, turning around to assure 
himself. Maggie dropped the wood she was about 
to place on the great andirons, and going nearer 
to Robin, said in a low tone, “I am afraid some¬ 
thing has happened. It is not common for him to 
v iy out so in a storm — he know,-, we’d be worry is 
about- him, and always harries home.” 
“It does seem strsrge,” said Rotitn, tlionght- 
fally. “Get the lantern—I will go and see if I can 
find him. If he ia loaton the marsh, he might see 
I tho ligM and foVow it—if he attempted to row 
j homo”— 
Maggie grew pale, and he left the sentence un¬ 
finished. 
“As she lighted the candle in the tin lantern 
and gave it to Korin, who bad now buttoned >.L 
coat closely around him, and donned his cap, she 
whispered, “ Mother must not know your errand. 
If she knew we feared anything, she would not 
sleep a wink to-night, and then to-morrow, just as 
like as not, she’d be down with one of her sick 
spells.” 
Robin nodded compliance. 
Mrs. Crain turned from the window and hob¬ 
bled back to the fire. Seeing him prepared to go 
out, she asked, “Must you go, Robin? —can’t yon 
stay a little longer, till the storm is over?” 
“ You see it’s getting late ma’am; time I was at 
home long ago; so, good night to you.” 
Maggie followed him to the door. Hitherto, her 
solicitude for her father had prompted her to has¬ 
ten him on his errand, hut as she stood by the 
door and rude, chilly gusts, laden with great, cold 
drops of rain, swept over her, Bhe laid her hand 
on his arm, and said, “ Don’t go, Robin. It’s a 
fearful night” 
“ Why, not so very had—I shan’t mind a good 
drenching, if it only leads your father home, safe 
and sound.” 
Then he gently removed the hand that held his 
arm, kissed the sweet lips bent towards him, and 
turned to go. 
0, how.the light seemed to die out from her 
young heart, even as it had done from the earth at 
the first hour of evening! He reached the wicket. 
“Robin!” 
How endearingly small and sweet sounded that 
voice amid the hoarse ravings of the storm. He 
turned about. “What is it, Maggie?” 
“ 0, not much of anything. How dark the clouds 
look!” 
“ Never mind—I’ll soon be hack,” and the gate 
closed after him. 
Ah, Maggie, Maggie. The first hour of thy life's 
evening has come on, and the clouds are dark and 
frowning that threaten to obscure even its twi¬ 
light rays! 
She closed the door and went to the window.— 
She could see the lantern, aDd the halo of light it 
cast around, and the tall dark figure in the midst. 
The halo went out—the dark figure disappeared— 
and the lone lamp-star waved to and fro, solemnly, 
in the great infinity of darkness that surrounded it, 
then it, too, was quenched in the distance, and she 
saw no more. 
Now she bethought herself of her poor mother, 
who, she knew, must he suffering great fatigue, al¬ 
though Bhe did so uncomplainingly. Assisting 
her to bed, she administered an opiate, smoothed 
down her pillow, kissed her a good night, and soon 
had the satisfaction of knowing that she slept— 
Then she opened the great bed of coals that 
smouldered beneath an ashy veil, piled on more 
wood and sat down on a low stool, near by, to lis¬ 
ten for the coming of the wanderers. 
One, two, three, rung through the lonely cabiB, 
and still she sat alone. She had heard the wild 
dashing of the rain gradually subside into a mel¬ 
ancholy patter, patter, on the pane, and the furious 
howlings of the wind calm away till it scarcely 
more than whispered through the crannies and 
crevices around. She had heard the roaring of 
the billows die out’till naught bat a sad complain¬ 
ing rose from their crested tops, but no footsteps 
neared. Alas! the tale they might have told her 
weary, listening ear! 
Meanwhile, Robin had threaded the path for a 
mile—had searched the marsh in many a quarter 
—had shouted and halloed while naught replied 
save the dreary echoes around. Then he returned 
by the beach, holding his lantern down close to 
where the angry waves lashed the pebbly shore to 
see if, perchance, the deep had net cast up some 
token of what it held in its bosom. But it was a 
fruitless search. Already the candle burned low 
in its socket, and, as a last resort, he climbed a lit¬ 
tle elevation that rested on the borders of the lake. 
Many a handful of esrib, had the gnawing break¬ 
ers extracted from this little hillock, and left the 
matted turf jutting over a considerable depth of 
water. Unmindful of this, Robin ventured near 
the brink, the tnrf gave way beneath his feet and 
the “ hungry foam” closed over him. Soon again 
he rose, and though chill and bewildered, he 
battled manfully against the surging waters, but 
the struggle was vain, cold and exhausted he sunk 
again on his watery pillow, and all was over. 
Hapless Robin ! one bound to the right instead 
of thy headlong course, and thy sweet Maggie, 
who should come seeking thee where thy proud and 
noble heart prompted thy seeking another, had 
not returned to her home all blighted and desolate 
in spirit! 
“ Cone these four hours,” at length, sighed Mag¬ 
gie, as she glanced at the worn time-piece; then 
taking down a plaid cloak, she threw it over her 
head, stole noiselessly to the bedside where her 
mother still slept, then out at the door, closing it 
softly behind her. A s she stood alone in the open 
air, the sullen mutterings of the spent forces of 
the storm oppressed her. She felt that Bhe could 
better bear its terrors. But it was no time to stop to 
listen. On she pressed by the beaten path, while 
the folds of her gown rustled the dead flags by her 
side, and the seared ivy shivered on the trunks of 
decaying trees. Then ont on the beach, where the 
tide, though still riding high, was receding from 
the shore, the tiny feet went pattering on with 
crumbling shells and rain-cold Bands beneath.— 
Sometimes she paused to look into the cruel waves 
that washed up over her feet, reddening, with their 
frosty breath, her weary ankles, and sometimes, 
with strained eyes, she tried to pierce the darkness 
that brooded over the dismal fen. 
The black clouds grew leaden-hued, and bro¬ 
ken, with fleecy edges. Tho moon that had 
gone far on her westering course was faintly dis¬ 
cernible through the silvery-edged cloud in which 
she reposed. 
0, Maggie, tread slowly, for thou art in the 
shadow of a great evil, that must boob be upon 
thee in all its heaviness. 
Very soon her eye caught sight of the dark ob¬ 
ject which the receding waterB had left partly ex¬ 
posed to view. Bhe bent over it There were 
brown curls, dripping with the wet, and a hand¬ 
some, smiling face all pale and cold. Tho moon 
bnrst forth in all its brightness. 
“0, Cod! ’tis Robin, my Robin!” and the poor 
girl sank down as white and senseless as the 
drowned man beside her. 
Morning < ;?'ned cold and grey over the eastern 
hills, and the vapory remnants of the last night’s 
storm sailed peacefully along the blue ether-ocean. 
Flocks of wild gesso that had settled down on the 
shores, at night, after their weary journey across 
the broad lake, started up with many a “ craik” 
and flutter, and arranged themselves to resume 
their southern journey. The hoarse caw of the 
crows resounded from the group of evergreens 
over the fen; and the tinkling of bells came 
faintly from the sere pastures where the sheep 
were let loose to graze a scanty meal. Alike un¬ 
conscious of the returning sounds of re awakened 
life, were the death-cold lad, and the life-cold 
maiden. 
Early the fishermen came to spread their nets in 
the waters of Ontario; hut it was a mournful bur¬ 
den they bore with solemn hearts and heavy tread, 
hack to the hut of poor Timothy Crain. He had 
returned from a neighbor’s two miles up the shore, 
where he had suffered himself to be persuaded to 
remain till the storm was past. His honest heart 
bled, and great tears chased each other down his 
swarthy face, as he beheld the rustic beauties, pal¬ 
sied, as he feared, by the icy touch of death. 
But no such sweet relief had come to Maggie.— 
She was destined yet to awaken, and bear the bur¬ 
den of life with an aching heart and wandering 
brain, for long, weary years. 
In the midst of a clump of evergreens that 
shaded a grassy knoll on the lake-shore, they hol¬ 
lowed out a grave for poor Robin, where the 
waving pines and surging billows chant his per¬ 
petual requiem—and tho smouldering ashes of 
Maggie’s lost reasoD, are cast on the urn of his 
departed love. 
Enough of life’s reality remains to Maggie to 
enable her to perform her household duties, and 
care for her crippled mother, hut all else is shadow 
and uncertain gleamings. She still watcheB at 
eventide in the summer-time, by the moss-grown 
wicket,for the coming of Robin, and listens among 
the sounds of busy life for his merry whistle—and 
when the shrill November winds are piping 
around, and the rain beats on the dead leaves, she 
may be seen, like a dim spectre, wandering along 
the shore in the darkness of midnight, where the 
wailings of Nature over the dead in its bosom are 
in keeping with the tones of her spirit mourning 
over the dead hopes and feelings that Bleep in the 
desolated chambers of her sotil. 
Now, when evening comes cn many a rude 
fisherman gathers his group of little ones about 
him, and relates to them the story of “Maggie 
Crain.” 
HubbardstoD, Mass., 1858. 
The Present.— Enjoy the blessings of this day, 
if Cod sends them; and the evils hear patiently 
and sweetly. For this day only is ours; we are 
dead to yesterday, and we are not horn to morrow. 
—Jeremy Taylor. 
For Moore’s Kora! New-York**. 
BIBLICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 33 letters. 
My 27,11,17, 2, 8 was one of the twelve Apostles. 
My 30, 4, 8, 23,19 was a king of Jndca. 
My 3,16, 8, 24 is one of the books of the New 
Testament. 
My 13, G, 25, 32 was a son of Adam. 
My 14, 7, 9, 10, 26, 12,19,15 was a certain pool in 
Jerusalem. 
My 5, 31, 8, 28, 20,18 is a mount in Jerusalem. 
My 22, 33,1, 7 was an ancient city of Palestine. 
My 29, 28, 5, 31, 9,10, 33 was a faithful servant of 
Christ. 
My whole is a portion of the Bible. 
New York City, 1858. A. P. R. 
/ST" Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yoikea 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 29 letters. 
My 18, 8, 3, 26 is a great curiosity. 
My 11,22, 9, 4 is a great explorer. 
My 15,13,16, 5,13, 28 is an elevation. 
My 2, 7, 24 is singular. 
My 29, 16, 27, 5, 1,12 is a state many leave. 
My 14,16, 23, 4 is a river in Wisconsin. 
My C, 20,12, 9 is a sign. 
My 10,19, 7, 2 is a bird. 
My 17, 22, 21 is a boy’s name. 
My 25 is a consonant. 
My whole is the duty of every one. 
“ Newt.” 
examiner with its striking resemblance to the “back 
stitch,” so popular among ladies. Figure 5 shows that in 
the back stitch the thread is single on the upper side, 
Figure 5. 
while it is double on tbe under. There is no need for 
describing this stitch, for it is too well known and appre¬ 
ciated. Figure 6 exhibits the two threads as they appear 
Figure 6. 
on the under surface of the cloth—showing that they run 
in straight lines parallel with each other, and not winding, 
as in the Grover & Baker stitch. Figure 7 ehowB the ap- 
Figure 7. 
pearance (a side view,) of tbe seam after it is finished. 
While it is equally strong, it has neither the beauty nor 
the elasticity of the Grover & Baker stitch. 
For a better appreciation of the excellence of the Grover 
& Baker machine, we will show what progress had been 
made in Sewing Machines prior to their invention. The 
nearest approach to making a two-threaded seam by ma¬ 
chinery was the crossing of two threads, one on the up¬ 
per surface of the cloth, and the other on the under sur¬ 
face. Figure 8 will show the upper thread carried thro’ 
Figure 8. 
the fabric, as before described, while the under thread is 
contained on a bobbin inside of the shuttle, which passes 
through the loop, and to complete the seam, is drawn 
into the centre of the fabric. It requires many conditions 
to enable an operator to do this in all cases, for the 
thread on the under side of the seam will assume the ap¬ 
pearance of tho “ mail bag ” stitch (Figure 9,) and when 
Figure 9. 
Answer in two weeks. 
' * 
For Moore’s Rnral New-Yorker. 
GEOMETRICAL PROBLEM. 
this is the case the lower threads may be pulled out with¬ 
out trouble. Even when the machine sews perfectly the 
sewing will, from many causes, grow worse and worse, as 
represented in Figure 10. On thick cloths there is less 
Figure 10. 
If the hypothenuse of a right-angle-triangle he 
200 chains, and the side of a square inscribed in 
it be equal to 08 4-7 chains, what are the lengths 
of the other two sides of the triangle? 
Verona, Onei. Co., N. Y., 1858. S. G. C. 
Answer in two weeks. 
difficulty in makiDg a perfect stitch, with the appearance 
of the seam alike upon both sides, as shown in Figure 11. 
Figure 11. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN No. 463. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—Men, by do¬ 
ing nothing, soon learn to do mischief. 
Answer to Acrostical Enigma:—William Pres¬ 
cott 
Never say of any one who is absent what you 
would either he afraid or ashamed to say if he 
were present He of whom you delight to speak 
evil, says a wise moralist, may hear of it, and 
become your enemy; or, if he does not, you will 
have to reproach yourself with the meanness of 
attacking one who had no opportunity of defend- 
ir g himself. 
§uUe*ti<settmtt5!. 
IV07/t the JValiortal Magazine, Jar < ce.o> tf*; - 
WOMAN’S BEST FRIEND. 
,ib Sewing Machine has proved itself a most valuable 
a Id to the wife and mother, having the care and education 
ons and daughters, and is too important a subject to 
be lightly dismissed, without its real value to the sex be- 
: fully set forth. There has heretofore been considera¬ 
ble said on the subject in these pages, and it is quite pos¬ 
sible that we might have felt satisfied with what has been 
said, had the Grover & Baker Sewing Machine Company 
been content with their previous achievements, in manu¬ 
facturing a very excellent machine. They have recently, 
however, introduced a new machine for family sewing, 
which by far excels anything previously brought to pub¬ 
lic notice. Its merits are too great to be slightly over¬ 
looked, and we think that no lady will censure us for 
setting forth the claims of the new Grover & Baker ma¬ 
chine to the favorable consideration of the sex. 
The new Grover & Baber Machine makes a new and 
entirely distinct stitch from any other made by machine 
—a patented stitch—much preferred for family sewing, on 
account of its great beauty, strength, and elasticity. It is 
without a rival in these particulars, because fabrics that 
are sewed by it can be washed and ironed without injury 
to the ssam. If a thread should break from any cause, 
the seam cannot rip, for each stitch is so securely locked 
as to be independent of the remaining stitches for 
strength. We here give drawings, some with the threads 
loose (Figure 1,) to enable the reader to form an idea of 
Figure 1. 
the merits ef the stitch. It will be seen that the upper 
thread is passed through the fabric, and that the lower 
thread is passed both through and around the loop of the 
upper. Figure 2 exhibits the threads more tightly drawn, 
Figure 2. 
and will enable the reader to judge of the strength of the 
seam, when told that each stitch is twice tied. Figure 3 
Figure 3. 
shows a small winding thread, lying flat and close on the 
under surface of the cloth. The whole duty of this un¬ 
der thread is to securely fasten the upper, and give elas¬ 
ticity to the seam. In stretching it, the strain is divided 
between all the stitches, and, as each stitch gives or 
yields to the strain, there can be little danger of breaking 
the threads from washing or ironing. Figure 4 shows the 
seam as it appears when drawn up and finished. The 
Figure 4. 
machine itself finishes the seam, without any recourse to 
the hand-needle to fasten the ends; and if, as above 
represented, there be an attempt to pull the two pieces 
of fabric apart, it will be found impossible to do it without 
breaking either the threads or the fabric. Another great 
merit of this machine iB that it will sew either silk, linen, 
or cotton thread, directfrom the spools, as purchasedfrom 
the stores, without any re-winding. In other words the 
two spools may be put upon the machine, and sewed from 
them direct, and a lady may readily learn to make an en¬ 
tire garment without unthreadirig either needle. We do 
not see why she might not exhaust the threads from both 
spools without re-threading the needles. 
We will attempt a short description of the process cf 
making this Btitcb, with a mere mention of the mechan¬ 
ism employed to do it. The upper thread, carried by a 
vertical needle, is passed through the cloth where it 
throws out a loop, which is caught by a circular needle 
carrying a thread one-half the size of the upper thread, 
which is passed through it and held open until the upper 
or vertical needle is again passed down through both the 
fabric and the loop of the under thread. This process is 
repeated until the seam is finished, the lower thread 
passing through the upper, and the upper thread passing 
through the Tower. We marvel at the ingenuity and 
simplicity of the mechanism. It is so simple that a child 
of ten years can understand and manage it, while its du¬ 
rability will bear any test, except intentional violence. 
An inspection of the stitch cannot fail to impress the 
On such material, whero the seam is not tested by wash¬ 
ing and ironing, it may be durable enough for many pur¬ 
poses ; but, if the thread breaks, and the cloth be palled 
as in Figure 12, tbe loops must of necessity draw out as 
far as the ends of the thread with allow them. On thin 
material there is not body enough to permit the crossing 
point to be drawn into the centre, and there is no other 
way of making the seam, than to permit the under thread 
to lie flat on the surface cf the cloth, as shown in Figure 
9. The thread will shrink in washing, and when the 
material is stretched in ironing, this under thread must 
break, and when it breaks there is no security against 
ripping. The utmost care is required to be used in wash¬ 
ing and ironirg garments made with the shuttle stitch 
seam, and great care may make it quite serviceable on 
thin fabrics. Every shuttle seam—whether upon thick 
or upon thin fabrics—requires to have the ends carefully 
fastened with a hand-needle, that it may be prevented 
from ripping. 
T''er« are various method:; of making this stitch, which 
is sometimes, for eojci, called tue i.eck r;:* ti,--v « t.«. 
still a shuttle stitch, whether made by a reciprocating f but¬ 
tle or a bobbin and a rotating hook ; the thread ia eii/ier 
case must be carefully taken from the original spools and 
wound upon the bobbin. These bobbins contain very 
limited quantities of thread, and as the reader must readi¬ 
ly perceive, tbe coarser tbe thread the fewer number of 
yards the bobbin will contain. 
This Shuttle stitch, which we have just described and 
illustrated, w r as as great an advance upon the Tambour 
stitch (which preceded it.) as the Grover & Baker stitch 
was upon the Shuttle stitch. The Tambour stitch (shown 
iu Figure. 13,) has been much used in ornamental sewing. 
Figure 13. 
It is a mere series of loopings on the under surface of the 
cloth, after the manner of the knittiDg stitch, and not 
one particle more secure, for if the thread breaks, and 
there be any strain npon the two pieces of cloth (as 
shown in Figure 14,) the loops will ravel or rip the entire 
Figure 14. 
length of the seam. We learn that most of the low 
priced machines make this stitch, which we regard as al¬ 
most useless for family sewing, and would hesitate long 
before recommending our readers to invest money in one 
of them. 
Wooden Water Pipe. 
T HIS PIPE is made of pine scantling, each Bection 8 feet long, 
the usual size is 3% inches square with a bore of 1 % inches — 
The ends are jointed bo that when laid down the entire course is 
water-tight 
This is the best and cheapest pipe in use for water courses of every 
description. Manufactured and for sale by _ 
453tf I. S. HOBBIK k CO, Rochester, N. Y. 
THE BEST APPLE PARER IN THE WORLD. 
WII1TTEM9KE BKOTHKliB’ PATENT. 
A PPLES prepared for use by five revolutions of the crank. liotne 
to fifteen Apples per minute Pared, Cored and Sliced. Simple in 
its construction and less liable to get out of erder than any other ma¬ 
chine in use, and capable of performing four times as much labor. 
It is the perfection of Yankee Ingenuity, and can be operated by a 
child ten years of age and no family can afford to be without one. 
They can be obtained of the principle merchants throughout the 
country, and of the Proprietors and Manufacturers at Worcester, 
Mass,, who will give all orders careful and prompt attention. Largs 
Inducements offered to Agents and Dealers. 
Price below competition and within reach of alL 
4*3 WHITTEMORS BROTHERS, Worcester, Mass, 
KEDZIE’S WATER FILTER. 
T HE SUBSCRIBERS give notice that they have made airangs- 
ments with Mr. Kidzie, the patentee of this celebrated Filter, to 
manufacture, under his own supervision, and sell at former retail pri- 
oes, and discount to dealers as when made by J. E. Cheney A Co 
Address only JAMES TERRY * CO 
69 and 61 State St, Rochester, N. Y. 
431 the old stand of J. K. Cheney A Oc 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LEADING WEEKLY 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court House. 
TERMS IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year— $1 for 6ix 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 ; Tea Copies (and one to Agent,) 
for $15, and any additional number at the game rate, ($1,50 per copy.) 
Aswe are euliged to pre-pay the American postage on papers sent to 
the British Provinces, our Canadian agents and friends must add 
12% cents per copy to the club rales 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 twenty-five cents a line, each insertion, payable in ad¬ 
vance. Onr rule is to glee no advertisement, unless very brief, more 
than four consecutive insertions. Patert Medicines, Ac., are not 
advertised in the Rural on any conditions. 
The Postage on the Rural is only 3% cts. per quarter to any part 
j of this State, and 6% cts. to any other State, if paid quarterly in ad¬ 
vance at the post-office where received. 
