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20 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A SAILOR’S ADDRESS TO A STAR. 
Thou hast gleamed on my home to-night, bright star, 
From thy thronl in the azure sky, 
Thou hast shed on its roof thy beams from far, 
In the dewy world on high— 
Long years have passed o’er my head, bright star, 
Since I stood in the old cottago door, 
And the thought doth my present pleasure mar 
That those happy days are o’er. 
Ig my father, my kind old father there, 
With a smile on his time-worn face, 
And the silver locks of his long grey hair, 
Hava they still on his brow their place? 
Does my mother knit by the open door, 
While the cat on the step is asleep? 
And doo3 she think as in days of yore, 
Of her child on the foaming deep? 
Is my brother there with his face of mirth, 
And hi3 gay and happy smile ? 
Is his breast still free from the cares of earth, 
And his heart still free from guile ? 
Do the flowers bloom in the garden now, 
As they did when I was there, 4 
And to catch the warmth of the summer’s glow, 
Do they raise up their petals fair ? 
Does the parrot still in his cage of green 
Hang against the old oak tree ? 
Looking down in delight on the well known scene, 
And wishing still to bo freo ? . 
Ah I a cloud comes over thy face, bright star, 
Is the story sad to tell ? 
Have they gone, all gone from my home, afar, 
In the shady forest doll? 
Ah 1 thy father sleeps in the cold damp earth, 
And thy mother by his side— 
And the gentle boy with his face of mirth, 
In a stranger’s land has died. 
The cottage stands in the garden yet, 
But the flowers are dead and gone, 
And the parrot, once thy childhood’s pet, 
So his native woods have flown. 
Then bear me back, when life is o’er, 
Wh«n death shall dim my eye, 
Let me gaze on my own dear land once more, 
Then in the green woods dio. 
Yes, waft me swiftly, ye rising winds 
O’er the rolling billows deep— 
Tn my native homo let me early find 
A quiet place to sleep. 
Little Falls, December, 1854. K> F - S. B. 
fife's %mm. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A LEGEND OF VENICE. 
LEAYES FROM A TRAVELER’S NOTE-BOOK—No. 5. 
“ My hreath can still the winds, 
Uncloud the sun, charm down the swelling sea.” 
Beaumont. 
The Academy of Fine Arts in "Y enice con¬ 
tains an exceedingly fine and extensive collec¬ 
tion of paintings, many of which are works of 
the rarest merit. But pictures, as w ell a? 
statues, are objects to be looked at,—not to be 
written about, except to those who have seen 
them,—for there is no pen sufficiently pliant or 
subtle to convey any adequate idea of their 
embodied beauties, and ink is far too indigent 
to paint those mighty inspirations of genius 
that are there so beautifully elaborated upon 
canvass, by the master-hand of the ai tist. 
There is, however, one curious picture in the 
gallery, that is well worthy of mention, as it 
illustrates most forcibly, and is exceedingly 
characteristic of the superstition of the age in 
which the legend that furnished its subject was 
most religiously believed; it gave birth to a 
religious ceremony that is still celcbiatcd an¬ 
nually, and runs as follows : 
In the early part of the fourteenth century, 
the waters that surrounded Venice were raised 
by an inundation, to a greater altitude than 
they were ever before known to have reached. 
One dark and blustering night, when the flood 
was rapidly increasing—threatening in its rise 
to engulph Venice in the waves —a poor old 
fisherman had moored his boat close to the 
Riva de San Marco, which afforded but an 
insufficient shelter from the furious “peltings 
of the pitiless storm.” While seated there in 
his rocking boat,—his ragged cloak wrapped 
closely round his shivering form, a man of 
stately bearing and commanding aspect, enter¬ 
ed it and thus addressed him : 
« Take up your oars and row me straight¬ 
way to the church of San Giorgio Maggiore.” 
“That,” replied the fisherman, “is utterly 
impossible; do you not see how fearfully the 
storm rages,—how the angry waves, lashed 
into fury by the boisterous winds, threaten in¬ 
stant destruction to any boat that may attempt 
to breast them?” 
“ Cowardly fool,” said the stranger, “do as I 
command thee; thy reward shall be commen¬ 
surate with the risk you run.” 
Stung by the imputation cast upon his cour¬ 
age, and awed by the imperative air of the 
person who addressed him, he complied. They 
reached the church in safety, at the imminent 
hazard of their lives, the frail bark having 
repeatedly been nearly submerged by the mad¬ 
dened waves. The boat had no sooner touched 
the steps of the church, than another person 
entered it and seated himself by the side of the 
one that the fisherman had taken from the 
Riva de San Marco; after a moment's consul¬ 
tation between the two, the old man was re¬ 
quested to row them to another church nearby; 
after much persuasion he acceded to their 
demand, and having reached the church, was 
joined by another person who ordered him, as 
he stepped into the boat, to conduct them to 
the two castle 3 of Lido. The dismayed fisher¬ 
man, awed into submission, took up his oars 
and obeyed. 
When they had at last gained the straits the 
old man looked out far ahead ‘ a singular and 
horrible sight met his affrighted gaze. There, 
before him was to be seen flying, rather than 
sailing, along the foaming waters of the Adri¬ 
atic, a monstrous galley, filled wdth horrible 
demons that seemed by their threatening ges¬ 
tures to be hurrying on to sink V r enice in the 
deep. On, on, flew the galley; but an instant 
more and the little boat would be run down; 
the three strange passengers rose suddenly from 
their seats, exlaiming,—“ Peace, be still; back, 
back ye demons of the deep!” and making the 
sign of the cross, the sea in an instant became 
unruffled,— the galley vanished,— the clouds 
disappeared, and the pale moon shone smilingly 
upon the surface of the now placid waters, in 
long and lustrous lines of quivering light. 
The fisherman was then ordered to return to 
the city; the waves no longer offered resistance, 
and the light bark, impelled by the lusty strokes 
of the old man's arm, glided swiftly along upon 
the waters of the Lagoon. Reaching the city, 
he landed his three passengers at the respective 
spots at vAilch they had embarked. As the 
last one stepped from the boat to the “ Riva,’ 
he said : 
“ I am St, Mark, they that accompaniep me 
were Saint George and Saint Nicholas,” and 
as he spoke he drew from his finger a glittering 
gem of exceeding value. “ Take this ring, and 
demand an audience of the Doge; present it to 
him, and tell him that I, Saint Mark, com¬ 
manded you to demand of him ten times its 
value, as a recompense for the services you 
have rendered to-night, both to me and Venice. 
Before the astonished fisherman, who had 
fallen on his knees at the wondrous revelation, 
could utter a single word in reverence or reply, 
his holy patron had disappeared. 
The next morning, at an early hour, he pre¬ 
sented himself at the Palace, and obtaining an 
audience of the Doge, recounted to him the 
adventures of the preceding night. The Doge, 
who had heretofore been unable to understand 
the providential escape 01 Venice in the sudden 
calming of the waters, visited the shrine ol St. 
Mark, and found on examination that the ring 
was absent from its usual place. Satisfied 
that the one the fisherman had in his posses¬ 
sion was indeed the sacred relic, he returned to 
the palace and presented him with the amount 
demanded, besides granting him a life pension 
The picture, before mentioned, represents 
the fisherman in a kneeling posture, presenting 
the ring to the Doge, who is sealed on his 
throne, surrounded by his Senators and Council. 
A solemn procession and thanksgiving takes 
place annually, as a mark ot the people s 
gratitude to the very holy spirits that rose 
from their tombs, in order to save Venice from 
the dread calamity with which she was threat¬ 
ened. J - M - n - 
Rahway, Dec., 1854. 
CURIOUS EASTERN TALE. 
A LOVELY INCIDENT. 
What parent, on reading the annexed ex¬ 
tract, can fail to reflect on the lesson it sug¬ 
gests? How important that, when the parents 
have departed, the example left behind them 
may be such as the children can be thankful 
for. To watch for and train the budding 
thoughts of an artless child, is one of the no¬ 
blest offices father or mother can fill. Truly 
hath it been said, that “ out of the mouth of 
babes and sucklings strength hath been or¬ 
dained.” What could give greater strength 
to that widowed heart than such a scene with 
her daughter: 
She knelt at the accustomed hour, to thank 
God for the mercies of the day, and pray for 
care through the coming night; as usual came 
the earnest “ God bless dear mother, and,”— 
but the prayer was stilled ; the little hands un¬ 
clasped and a look of agony and wonder met 
the mother’s eye as the word of hopeless sor¬ 
row burst from the lips of the kneeling child— 
“ I cannot pray for father any more!” Since 
her little lips had been able to form the dear 
name, she had prayed for a blessing upon it; 
had followed close after mother’s name, for he 
had said that must come first; and now to say 
the familiar prayer and leave her father out! 
No wonder that the new thought seemed too 
much for the childish mind to receive. 
I waited for some moments, that she might 
conquer her emotion, and then urged her to 
go on. Her pleading eyes met mine, and with 
a full heart, too much almost for utterance, 
she said—“ Oh, mother, I cannot leave him 
all; let me say, thank God that I had a dear 
father once, so I can still go on and keep him 
in my prayers.” And so she always does, and 
my stricken heart learned a lesson from the 
loving ingenuity of my child. Remember to 
thank God for mercies past as well as to ask 
for blessings for the future. 
A Graceful Compliment. —It was a judi¬ 
cious resolution of a father, as well as a most 
pleasing compliment to his wife, when, on being 
asked what he intended to do with his girls, he 
replied : “ I intend to apprentice them all to 
their excellent mother, that they may learn the 
art of improving time, and be fitted to become, 
like her, wives, mothers, and heads of families, 
and useful members of society.” 
There lived in Bagdad a young man of 
such extreme beauty, that he was surnamed 
the brilliant. He had also the gift of poesy. 
Oumen-el-Benine, the wife of the Caliph, El- 
Oulid-ben-Abd-el-Melick, was so much in love 
with this youDg man that she fell sick. She 
introduced him into her apartment every day, 
and when she feared to be disturbed by the 
approach of any one, she concealed her favorite 
in a coffer. Such was their daily course. One 
day the Caliph received a present of a collar of 
gold garnished with precious stones, with which 
he was greatly pleased. 
«I w ill reserve this for my wife,” said he, 
and immediately ho ordered one ol his eunuchs 
to carry the collar to the Sultana. 1 he slave, 
in going to execute his commission, found the 
house door open. 
“What does this mean?” inquired he of 
himself. So saying, he advanced stealthily 
along towards the chamber, whence proceeded 
sounds of laughter, and he met the eyes ot the 
young man, who started and became pale as 
death. With a bound the Sultana pushed him 
into the coffer; but the slave had seen all. He 
presented the collar, and said,—-“ Madam I 
must demand of you a stone ot this jewel.” 
Indignant at such boldness, she exclaimed— 
“ Rude creature, depart from my presence!” 
The enraged slave went straight to his mas¬ 
ter, and said,—“ My lord, to-day I found a man 
in conversation with your wife in such a 
chamber. At my approach the Sultana hid 
him precipitately in such a coffer.” He then 
described the piece of furniture. The Caliph 
was infuriated against the servant for bringing 
him such a message. “ Ihou base miscieant 
dog!” he exclaimed, and he ordered his head to 
be cut off. 
When the execution was over, the Caliph 
rose, put on his slippers, and went to his wife’s 
apartments. She was occupied in arranging 
her head-dress. He entered, and sat lacing her, 
upon the coffer indicated By the slave. He 
said to her in the course of the conversation, 
“ How happens it you have such a liking for 
this chamber ?” “ Because my apparel is here,” 
she replied. “ May I dare to hope that yon 
will favor me with one of the coffers with which 
the chamber is furnished?” “ Take, my lord, 
whichever you please, with the exception of 
the one you are seated upon.” “ This is pre¬ 
cisely the one I prefer,” replied the Ca’iph; 
“ you must let me have it.” After a moment’s 
stupor, the Sultana said to him, “Very well, 
it is yours.” 
At a signal from the Caliph, the blacks ap¬ 
peared. “ Take this coffer into the Hall of 
Council, and wait for me.” While the slaves 
were bearing away the coffer, the countenance 
of the Sultana bore traces of confusion — 
“Why dost thou change countenance?” in¬ 
quired the El-Oulid ; “ perhaps this coffer may 
contain thy heart.” “ Pardon me, my lord, it 
contains nothing such. If I appear a little 
moved, it is because I have been taken sud¬ 
denly ill. “ God will cure thee,” observed the 
Caliph, retiring. 
When he reached the Hall of Audience, he 
found the coffer upon the floor. “ Raise the 
carpet,” he said to his slaves, “ and dig a hole 
the size of a man.” The pit being dug he 
made a sign to place the coffer on the brink. 
Then planting one foot upon the piece ol iur- 
niture, he pronounced the following words :— 
“ News has come to me; if it is true, thy vest¬ 
ment shall be thy shroud, this box shall be thy 
bier, and it is God that immolates thee, if 
this news is false, I inter a coffer, and loose on¬ 
ly a few planks.” He then pushed the box, 
which descended rapidly to the bottom of the 
pit. The blacks filled up the grave and re¬ 
placed the carpet. The Caliph then returned 
to liis spouse, and both deported themselves as 
if nothing had happened between them. Peace 
united their existence until the day of death. 
—London Court Journal. 
DOESTICKS’ PATENT MEDICINE. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
PLAIN SPEARING. 
“ I always speak exactly what I think,” said 
a young lady in my presence the other evening; 
and straightway I began to meditate on the 
queer position affairs in general would as¬ 
sume if everybody, like the aforesaid young 
lady, should adopt the plan of speaking what¬ 
ever they thought. What a hubbub would 
ensue. The “ confusion.of tongues ” would be 
nothing in comparison to it. 
Only imagine Miss Screamer’s surprise and 
indignation, when on rising from the piano, 
she winningly begs Mr. Squibb s opinion of 
her song, and is candidly told by the gentle- 
man,—“ Oh, it is execrable : out of time, out of 
tune and taste. In fact, you sing abominably.; ’ 
And what would become ol Mr. Ayres, if 
on questioning Miss Verity on the nature ol 
her cogitations, in such a style as this,—“ A 
thousand guineas, fair lady, for your thoughts,’ 
she would unhesitatingly make answer, “1 do 
wish you would go. You are such a bore.” 
Mrs. Tittle and Mrs. Tattle’s friendship 
would come to an end mighty soon, if Mrs. 
Tittle, instead of pronouncing Mrs. Tattle’s 
spring bonnet “a perfect love,” should boldly 
declare it to be a “ perfect fright.” 
Plain speaking would entirely abolish visit¬ 
ing. People would find no pleasure in being 
greeted after this fashion, “How provoking! 
I suppose of course, you’ve come with the in¬ 
tention of staying to tea,” &c. 
Show me the bachelor who’d dare to give 
vent to his private ideas on the subject, when 
some young mother of his acquaintance brings 
forward her baby, and while coaxing him to 
kiss it, assure him, “ It is a sweet little cherub.” 
Wouldn’t his ears tingle a moment after, if 
with a contemptuous curl of the lip, he ex¬ 
claimed, “ Sweet, madam! I can’t say I ever 
discovered anything sweet about babies ?” 
Though we have ever refused to advertise 
Patent M'edicines in the Rural, for money or 
friendship,—even when samples of the superla¬ 
tive curatives were tendered free, for trial !— 
we cannot withhold the following important 
and astounding discovery from our two hundred 
thousand readers! It equals anything, in the 
same line, that has recently appeared in the 
editorial columns (or among the conspicuous 
notices) of certain venerable agricultural con¬ 
temporaries in this Commonwealth: 
Congratulate me—my fortune is made—I 
am immortalized, and I’ve done it myself. I 
have gone into the patent medicine business. 
My name will be handed down to posterity as 
that of a universal benefactor. * * * 
Bought a gallon of tar, a cake of beeswax, 
and a firkin of lard, and in twenty-one hours 
I presented to the world the first batch of 
“ Doesticks ’ Patent Self-Acting Four-Horse 
Power Balsam designed to cure all diseases of 
mind, body, or estate, to give strength to the 
weak, money to the poor, bread and butter to 
the hungry, boots to the barefoot, decency to 
blackguards, and common sense to the Know- 
Nothings. It acts physically, morally, men¬ 
tally, psychologically and geologically, and it 
is intended to malm our sublunary sphere a 
blissful paradise, to which Heaven itself shall 
be but a side-show. 
I have not yet brought it to absolute per¬ 
fection, but even now it acts with immense 
force, as you will perceive by the accompany¬ 
ing testimonials and records of my own indi¬ 
vidual experience. You will observe that I 
have not resorted to the usual manner of pre¬ 
paring certificates ; which is, to be certain that 
all those intended for eastern circulation shall 
seem to come from some formerly unheard-of 
place in the west, while those sent to the west 
shall be dated at some place forty miles east of 
sunrise. But I send to you, as representing 
the western country, a certificate from an Ore¬ 
gon farmer: 
“ Dear Sir : —The land composing my farm 
has hitherto been so poor that a Scotchman 
couldn’t get his living off it, and so stony that 
we had to slice our potatoes, and plaut them 
edgeways; but hearing of your balsam, I put 
some on a corner of a ten-acre lot, surrounded 
by a rail fence, and in the morning I found the 
rocks had entirely disappeared, a neat stone 
wall encircled the field, and the rails were split 
into ovenwood, and piled up symmetrically in 
my back yard. Rut half an ounce in the 
middle of a huckleberry swamp ; in two days 
it was cleared off, planted with corn and pump¬ 
kins, and had a row of peach-trees in full bloom 
through the middle. As an evidence of its 
tremendous strength, I would state that it drew 
a striking likeness of my eldest daughter— 
drew my youngest boy out of the mill pond— 
drew a* blister all over his stomach—drew a 
load of potatoes four miles to market, and 
eventually drew a prize of ninety-seven dollars 
in the State lottery. And the effect upon the 
inhabitants hereabouts has been so wonderful, 
that they have opened their eye3 to the good 
of the country, and are determined to vote for 
a Governor who is opposed to frosts in the 
middle of June, and who will make a positive 
law against freshets, hail storms, and the sev¬ 
enteen-year locusts.” 
A Trap for a Troublesome Tongue.— 
Sheridan was one day much annoyed by a fel¬ 
low member of the English House of Commons, 
who kept crying out every few minutes, 
“ Hear! hear!” During the debate he took 
occasion to describe a political cotemporary 
that wished to play rogue, but had only sense 
enough to act fool. “ Where,” exclaimed he 
with great emphasis, “ where shall we find a 
more foolish knave or a more knavish fool 
than he?’, “Hear! hear!” (here, here,) ex¬ 
claimed the troublesome member. Sheridan 
turned round, and thanking him for the prompt 
information, sat down amid a general roar of 
laughter. 
1 am composed of forty-eight letters divided 
into ten words. 
My 22, 2, 38, 13, 32, 15, 5, 12, 47, 24 is a piece 
of property the title deed of which is written 
in blood. 
My 20, 9, 31, 43, 23, 27, 18, 1, 47, 20, 17, 5, 40 
is one of the belligerent sovereigns. 
My 7, 43, 27, 43, 21, 3, 43, 4, 24, 37 is a new 
and deadly weapon in warfare. 
My 7, 26, 30, 22, 35, 13, 20, 32, 41, 18, 6, 40, 
26, 10, 48 was a distinguished officer in the 
the allied army. 
My 13, 36, 9, 20, 31, 32, 27, 39, 1, 29, 10, 27, 
2 are two deities hostile to the allies as they 
were to the Trojans. 
My 27, 43, 40, 17, 34, 8, 33, 45, 43, 19, 48 is a 
Highland regiment celebrated for bravery in 
the battles of the Crimea. 
My 16, 47, 11, 44, 25, 4, 43, 14, 23, 15 is an¬ 
other brave English regiment. 
My 28, 3, 26, 42, 43, 27, 46 is something of an 
enemies works very desirable to a beseiging 
army. 
My whole is a motto worthy to be engraven 
on every man’s memory. 
gW” Answer next week. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
REBUS. 
Do not pray you think it strange, 
But stop and think, your thoughts arrange, 
And see if me you recognize, 
While here I am clothed in disguise. 
Five letters in my name are found, 
The first of which is in the ground; 
The next, to some, though strange it he, 
Dwells in the middle of the sea; 
No less mysterious is the third, 
It flies in the air with every bird; 
My fourth you’ll find, that’s very sure, 
It’s found with every hurt and cure; 
My fifth is always found in passing. 
My whole is oft the cause of guessing. 
flgf Answer next week. 
--«. -• 
CHARADE. 
Takf. half a gossipping talk with your wife, 
And half of what mostly embellishes life, 
Take an article which you’ve made use of to-day, 
And the half what often leads sportsmen astray. 
Put all these together, I’ll wager you’ll find, 
The very last thing that has been in your mind. 
Answer next week. 
THE GOOSE AND COLT. 
A poor G003E had been crually plucked alive 
of all her feathers, that she might satisfy the 
avarice of her master, who could get money 
for them. A young colt seeing the goose in 
this state, laughed heartily at her, and derided 
her. A little while after the goose met the 
colt again, when he had been deprived by his 
master of his cars and tail. “Oh,” said the 
goose, “whose turn is it to laugh now? My 
feathers are growing again, but you will never 
more have your ears and your tail.” 
Some children will laugh if they see a poor 
deformed person ; hut we never should laugh 
at the misfortunes of others, for we know not 
how soon far worse may befall ourselves. 
Let us, then, be kind to the lame, the deaf, 
the dumb, and the blind ; and if it should 
please God to permit us, at any time, to endure 
the like misfortunes, we may hope that we 
shall not he mocked at, but receive the same 
compassion that we have shown to others. 
little well. He is a good wagoner that can 
turn in a little room. To live well in abun¬ 
dance, is the praise of the estate—not of the 
person. Study more how to give a good ac¬ 
count of your little, than how to make it more. 
Among the bits of gossip now floating about 
in Paris, is one relating to a rich American, 
who wrote to Mad. de S-, of the Opera, a 
tender epistle on the back of a bank note.— 
The lady smiled, and sent a verbal reply, with 
the apology that she was entirely out. of note 
paper, and would be thankful to M l’Americau 
to send her a quire or two of his. 
—-4-—-O’ » ♦ -* 
Anxious Inquirer desires to know whether 
the Rocky Mountains were not the Cradle of 
Liberty ? He had but one quarter’s schooling, 
of which he only availed himself one after¬ 
noon, when the snow was so deep that lie went 
home again before he got half to it. This ex¬ 
plains his ignorance of geography. 
Answer to Rebus in No. 1. 
M A B 
EARL 
NECKLACE 
D I PSAS 
EPANODOS I Mendelssohn. 
LAZULI, 
SEQUIN 1 Blessington. 
STERLING 
OXYSALT 
HOBOMOKKO 
N I S A N J 
Answer to Grammatical Enigma in No. 1.- 
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office in. Burns’ Block, cor. Buffalo and State Sts. 
It is said that covetousness must he a rnisc- 
It is no small commendation to manage a | to^" STTff 
are gotten. 
To make too much haste to return an obli¬ 
gation, is a sort of ingratitude. 
A few mornings since, we were relating to 
our family the fact of a friend having found 
upon his door-step a fine little male infant, 
whom he had adopted, when one of the “ olive 
branches ” remarked“ Ra, dear, that will be 
his step- son, won’t it ?” 
In an old bookseller’s catalogue, in England, 
appears the following article :—“ Memoirs of 
Charles I., with a head capitally executed.” 
Will the Boston Post ask Mrs. Partington, 
who, we know, takes such a lively interest in 
the Black Sea struggles, why we get such 
stagnant news from So-vast-a-pool*? 
Astonishing. —Somebody has made the as¬ 
sertion that the Mustang Liniment is capable 
of healing the “ unkindest cut of all.” 
Why are little folks on Christmas morning 
like firemen at work ? Because they are very 
busy with their Hose. 
terms, in advance : 
Subscription — §2 a year —$1 for six months. To Clubs 
and Agents as follows Throe Copies one yoar, 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 same rate. As we are obliged to pro-pay 
the American postage on papers sent to the British Prov¬ 
inces, our Canadian agonts and friends must add 25 cents 
per copy to the club rates of the Rural. 
4C3” Subscription money, properly onclosed, may be 
sent by mail at the risk of the Publisher. 
*** The postage on the Rural is but 3% cents per quar¬ 
ter, payablo in advance, to any part of the State (oxcopt 
Monroe County, where it goes free,)—and 6% cents to 
any other section of the United States. 
Advertising. — Brief and appropriate advertisements 
will he inserted at $1,50 per square, (ten liae3, or 100 
words,) or 15 cents per line —in advance. The circulation 
of the Rural New-Yorker is several thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or similar journal in 
either America or Europe. Patent medicines, etc., will 
not be advertised in this paper on any terms. 
Ail communications, and business letters, should 
be addressed to D. D. T. Moore, Rochester, N. Y. 
The Wool Grower and Stock Register is the only 
American journal devoted to the Wool and Stock Growing 
Interests. It contains a vast amount of useful and relia- 
lle information not given in any other work, and should 
bo in the hands of Every Owner of Domestic Animals, 
whether located East or West, Nortli or South. Published 
monthly in octavo form, illustratod, at only Fifty Cents a 
Volume —two volumes a year. Volume 7 commences 
January, 1855. Specimen numbers sent free. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
t L ,.. . . ............... . . MG . . . . . .... - — 
