■n.n.nun.n.n.'.n.n. ,m,o .n.ri.n.nwnrn.ni^Tn.^n.n^n.n. . ... . . 
.. .. ..... ..............men,n.men.n . . 1 » .’ ’..... 
..... II »■ ’■> »' _____—-—..... I J 
MOOSE’S RURAL NEW-YORKERi AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
68 
C > 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.) 
LIGHT AND SHADE. 
BY WM. E. C. KNOWLES. 
In the life of every one 
I,ight and shadow mark the years, 
Which though joyously bogun, 
End in suffering and tears. 
Good and evil, joy and fear, 
Hand in hand their wealth disburse ; 
And from many lips we hear, 
Both a blessing and a curse. 
Blessings when the world goes riglit- 
With the harmony of song : 
But a curse is opposite, 
When it happens to go wrong. 
And amenity and doubt 
Often closely are allied ; 
And around aDd all about, 
Friend and foe live side by side. 
Pharisaism spreads its robe 
Over llagrant acts of sin, 
Lest the pure in heart should probe 
To the wantonoss within. 
Honest hands may sow the wheat, 
In the hope of fruitful shares ; 
But an enemy, discreet, 
In the night-time sows the tares. 
Godly men, in faith and hope, 
Look above them, and within ; 
While their fellow-mortals grope 
Through the labyrinths of sin. 
Thus existence, here called life, 
Is made up of light and gloom ; 
And at last, through years of strife, 
Seeks the quiot of the tomb. 
Wilson, N. Y., Fobruary, 1855. 
gift's IftB&ttM. 
Written for Moore’s ltural New-Yorker. 
THE GUNDY FAMILY. 
BY MELVA MAY. 
[Continued from last week.] 
Mr. Josiah B. Gundy had gone over to 
Dea. Peabody’s to mourn over human deprav¬ 
ity, the brothers were in a distant field, and the 
sisters being absent, the house was left tenant¬ 
less for a time. Look quick, and you will see 
a figure glide swiftly through the back door 
and up stairs, and return as swiftly and as 
noiselessly with bundle in hand, and out of the 
door, and along the fence to the corn field, 
which was yellow for the harvest, and disap¬ 
pear within its sheltering folds. 
“ Where is Abel ?” demanded the father; 
but no one was able to give a satisfactory 
answer. Alice looked conscious and stared 
nervously at her work, but said nothing. The 
morrow and no Abel. The household were 
thoroughly alarmed and sent hither and yon 
to get information. The messengers all re¬ 
turned empty save one. Mr. So-and-so said 
that So-and-so told him that he saw Abel five 
miles distant yesterday afternoon, and he in¬ 
quired for the most direct road to Boston. 
This, then, was the culminating point for 
the planet Abel in this, forced system of re¬ 
straint, and the centripetal force being over¬ 
powered, he sped ofi at an acute angle, and we 
fear that the orbit of his own seeking will be 
as hard to trace as that of the last comet.— 
Mr. Josiah B. Gundy mounted his fleetest 
farm-horse with an exceedingly troubled ex¬ 
pression of countenance, and departed in pur¬ 
suit. At the end of the third day he returned. 
All that there is known about the matter is 
this, that from that day straggling grey hairs 
made their appearance among his jet black 
locks, and there seemed to be some hesitancy 
in his firm tread and bold bearing—yes, he 
actually stooped a little from that date. 
It would be hard telling what was the exact 
state of mind in which he contemplated this 
last piece of stubborn reality. He was not at 
heart as cruel as his system, and had had 
secret misgivings all the time of its expediency. 
It was but the day before that he closed the 
writings which gave him the possession of a 
farm adjoining, which he purchased with the 
idea of changing tactics as regarded A bel— 
to see which would be productive of the most 
good, the farm or the rod. Too late, too late ! 
Another branch of the Gundy family gone 
forever! 
The advantage of this experience naturally 
fell to the one next in order, and no one knew 
better how to profit by it than Theophilus. 
lie was what, might be called a clever sort of 
a lad at most everything, and particularly at 
whatever concerned himself. Being originally 
destined for the bar, he was not expected to 
labor like the rest of them, but was a general 
waiter and errand boy for the household. lie 
out to seek the office of his Uncle, to com¬ 
mence the study of the law. 
There was an undefinable dignity in this ex¬ 
pression, “ the study ol the law,”—so thought 
Josiaii B.,—or rather a shapeless magnitude, 
which gradually assumed an appearance like 
to its young student, only of huge colossal 
proportions. There was gratification in the 
thought that though the lather grasped at 
nothing, the son had but to open his mouth to 
receive the delicious morsel. Piieopiiilus 
Gundy, Esq.! — it was cheering to think that 
one branch of the Gundy family was likely to 
receive the title and its honors. 
Careful directions were given this promising 
scion, and a little wallet containing the need¬ 
ful to defray expenses, and with many admon¬ 
itions to be frugal and diligent, he departed, 
satchel in hand, and for the first time in his 
life set foot out of Snubtown. 
We cannot follow him in his journey, though 
we would like to, to note his adventures and 
experiences, but must pass them by and hasten 
on to meet him at his entree into the town 
where Tiieopiiilus Gundy, Esq., w T as sup¬ 
posed to reside. It was not a large town ; the 
most it could boast of was a station house, 
tavern and church, with a crazy old steeple, 
around which were clustered a few stores and 
private dwellings. Theophilus went down 
the principal street, staring at this and that 
heedless of his errand, until reminded by the 
creaking of a sign in the wind on which he 
read in large capitals, L. Wood, Inn Keeper 
He went boldly in, scarcely noticing the fig¬ 
ures half concealed by tobacco smoke, and ad¬ 
dressed the gentleman at the bar as Mr. Wood. 
Mr. Wood was a man w’ith a portly figure 
and bluff lace. Measuring the lad from head 
to foot, and particularly dwelling on his sheep’s 
greys and slouched hat, he said in amusing tone 
—“ Theophilus Gundy, Esq. ? yes, seems as 
though I had heard the name— Theophilus, 
Theophilus Gundy — Esq., eh? Well now, 
can’t tell, but seems as tho’ I had heard the 
name afore. May be Mrs. Wood can tell; it 
takes a woman to remember a name, and I 
never seed the like of her. Yes, like as any 
way Mrs. TYood can tell ; she 11 know if ever 
there was such a man, I’ll warrant, and I'll ax 
her, if its anything in particular to you?” 
again glancing at the slouched hat. 
The boy assured him he was quite anxious 
to get the information, and Mrs. Wood being 
called, and the question propounded—“ Laws- 
a-massa! why, yes. Theophilus Gundy; don’t 
you remember ? he had a paste-board sign over 
his door. I don’t know what it was exactly, 
but I remember ’twas a paste-board sign.” 
“ Where can I find him?” enquired the boy, 
taking advantage of the good woman’s breath¬ 
ing. 
“ Find him ? good gracious ! how can I tell ? 
I never traveled his ways—but now I remem¬ 
ber he married the widow Scregs and four 
children—the Scregs, you know, who was all 
smashed up when the cars came together so !” 
“ The widow ? ” suggested the boy. 
“ No, no ! lor’ bless you ! the widow’s hus¬ 
band, to be sure ; and then she married this 
Gundy, and went to Burgundy, for all I know. 
How can I tell ? (a roar of laughter from be¬ 
hind the tobacco smoke)— you see I don’t re¬ 
member, as ’twas a matter of some dozen 
years ago.” 
The boy turned slowly away, feeling very 
much as he would have done at an earlier day 
on finding his hoarded hickory nuts shelled out 
and appropriated by some enterprising family 
of ground squirrels. He had r.ot proceeded 
far, however, when a loud voice called after 
him —“Hallo, there, Mister; come back a 
minit! ” 
“You see,” said the voluble Mrs. Wood, 
spreading her fat fingers, and bringing them 
together in a very impressive manner, “ you 
see its just come to me. I know Mr. W ood 
will consider it very remarkable, but 1 never 
forget! and I thought as may be you’d like to 
know where tu find him ?” 
The boy assured her that it was very de¬ 
sirable. 
“Wall, you see,” continued the good wo¬ 
man, clasping her hands tightly and rolling up 
her eyes as though about to send them in 
search of hidden stores of memory, “ you see 
old Mrs. Dundleberry had a quiltin. Yes, 
now I remember there was Peggy Short, and 
old Aunt Thankful, and Sy. Wilkins’ wife, 
and Mrs. Churchill, was a comin, (Mr 
Churchill is our minister, you know,) but 
her cousin from the Pints came, and so she 
sent over a little bit of paper, and now I re¬ 
member there was a posy in one corner, and 
’twas all scented with somethin, and old Mrs. 
Dundleberry said that ’twas a shame for a 
minister’s wife io set such an example afore 
the risin generation. Well, as I was sayin 
was allowed more school privileges, and with 
the aid of newspapers and books he picked up | there was Peggy Short and Aunt Thankful 
around him, gathered together no inconsidera-! and widder Mayflower, and we had rolled the 
ble amount of general information. Present- i 
ly, by doing like other foolish boys of his age, 
he stood convicted of concealing yellow cov¬ 
ered literature under his pillow, and a great 
many bits of candle disappeared mysteriously. 
The father shook his head solemnly, but did 
not think it best to interfere in the matter. 
Theophilus, Sen., had not been heard from 
for some years, but was expected to reside in 
the town of-. Accordingly, after ma 
second time, when says Peggy, says she, ‘ 0 I 
never shall forget the day when that poor man 
Mr. Scregs, was brought in all mangled and 
bruised up so, and then tu think that that wo¬ 
man could be so ungrateful to the memory of 
the best of husbands, as to hurry off her 
mourning to assume new relations, and a new 
name’ — them’s her very words! She was 
mighty nice and proper with her grammar and 
other larnin, but for all that we knew where the 
stick was!—she hadn’t been seen a walkin 
down the street every afternoon for three 
months, I spose? and allcrs on that side where 
was hung out in great black letters ‘ Theoph¬ 
ilus Gundy, Attorney at Law,’ or somethin of 
that sort! Well, Mrs. Dundleberry said she 
tho’t ’t was proper ’nough in the widder Scregs 
to look out for another protector, (them’s her 
very words) for ’twas a mother’s duty to con¬ 
sider the good of her children, and what could 
a poor widder du with four helpless children to 
support? Well, then the widder Mayflower 
said, says she, and we all knew she’d had her 
expectations about the matter,—says she, ‘ I 
don't know how any one could smother their 
grief in so short a time, and then tu think of 
such an orful death ! Tis ten years the fifth 
day of next month since Mr. Mayflower died, 
and I’m sure I couldn’t see any one in meetin, 
a sittin in his seat in our pew, but ’twould 
bring the dear, good man rite afore me now,’ 
and she burst rite out a cryin.” 
“ How long did he live here after he mar¬ 
ried ?” asked the boy, with an effort to restrain 
his impatience. 
“ Wall, you see, that’s what I’m coming to 
by-an-by. We was drinkin tea, and 1 know 
we had tarts and ginger-bread, and quince 
sarcc, and the table was set with silver and 
china, when who should cum in but Moses 
Armstrong, and says he have you hearn the 
news : Squire Gundy has gone, nobody knows 
where! You don’t say so! said Peggy, and 
she spilt the tea in her lap, and looked dread¬ 
ful pale. Yes, says he, I come by there jist 
now, and the last load of goods was a startin! 
and after that—yes, I remember, ’twas Peggy 
herself come over here, and says she, its strong¬ 
ly suspected they’ve gone to Coleridge, for his 
wife had got a cosin or something else there, 
and I shouldn’t wonder a bit if you’d find ’em 
there now!” 
Having thus delivered, the good woman felt 
that she had fully sustained her character as a 
faithful town record, and she rustled her ging¬ 
hams back into the reception-room, to await 
the coming of the next remarkable event. 
Theophilus, Jr., going out of town was 
matured some years in the discipline of life. 
“There arc times when we live fast,” says 
somebody, no matter who, and the boy, with 
boyish feelings, with boyish love of novelty, 
with boyish improvidence for the future, had 
suddenly become a scheming plotter, with his 
distinguishing peculiarity of consideration for 
No. 1 rapidly developing. He felt his disap¬ 
pointment keenly, and there was some doubt 
and uncertainty as to the course advisable for 
him to pursue, but there was necessity for 
energetic thought and immediate action, and 
the boy’s face grew older as he climbed the hill 
overlooking the village of-, there the road 
wound round into a nook, so quiet, so rare, 
and beautiful that 1 cannot forbear a descrip¬ 
tion. 
While’st Theophilus scats himself on the 
trunk of a fallen tree, a little distance from 
the highway, to refresh himself from his still 
well stored wallet, and afterward to determine 
on his future course; thou, reader, art mine. 
We will dance like fairies up this steep o’er- 
hanging cliff; and listen mid its deep, dark 
shades, to the whispering of its pines, and 
tread lightly on the velvety carpeting flung 
o’er its craggy rocks. 0, how I love the rocks, 
all wild and rough, as nature formed them !— 
dost thou ? When on the summit of this 
craggy cliff, one might whisper to the clouds, 
were there clouds in sight, but all above is one 
grand deep, impenetrable vault, of blue, illum’ed 
by the sunshine falling like a golden shower. 
Down in that quiet nook, with this craggy 
peak standing sentinel to its loveliness, there 
is a bright little stream, springing up as does 
the soul from the source of all, with violets, 
for-get-me-nots and field lillies hanging over its 
bosom; and just below, it falls over the rocks 
and is dashed to spray at the bottom. We 
will sit down under this hickory, with patches 
of sunlight here and there, and see the winds 
swaying the willows, then lightly sweeping 
o’er the fresh, green grass around us. The 
birds are caroling, the squirrels are chirping, 
and up there, in that hand’s breadth of blue, 
the fish hawk hangs motionless. Bend for¬ 
ward. Under the branches of that fir tree, 
where you see the waters glistening through 
—a little lower—there! what a beautiful fawn 
is quietly drinking, its light, graceful limbs re 
fleeted in the waters. Listen! there is the 
coo, coo of the dove, soft as the voice of love. 
’The lark sings, and peal, on peal, loud, clear, 
melodious. 0, I could close my eyes and 
dream — dream that this were but one vast 
cathedral, and tones richer, more varied and 
harmonious than the pealing organ’s swelling, 
sinking ; echoing through these leafy aisles. 
I wonder if Theophilus is thinking of these 
beauties ? 
“ Some souls there are to nature’s voices deaf.” 
but be that as it may, he is quietly munching 
his bread and cheese, and now he kneels down, 
crushing some sweet little forget-me-nots, and 
drinks from the stream, then without hesitstion 
turns his face homeward. 
He had been considering the additional 
farm which had come into the possession ol 
the Gundy family (“a bird in the hand is 
worth two in the bush”). The boy’s face 
brightened, yet you might see traces of his late 
experience, 
[Concluded next week ] 
SOME “STANZAS.” 
[Manifold are the miseries of an editor. It is some¬ 
times Ills fate even to receive such poetry as the following 
for publication.] 
Full many attempts he made to ki.ss her 
While she her face hid ’neath her veil— 
And he poor youth had to bewail, 
He’d only the misluck to miss her. 
r 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
So well he feigned a look of sadnoss, 
Groaned deep, hove such an awful sigh 
It soon drew pity from her eye, 
Then she his kiss received with gladness. 
’Tis summer ’neath their sunny features,— 
But ’less their hearts you can get hold, 
They’ll spurn you w T ere you mado of gold— 
Young Ladies are such funny creatures! 
Touch their affections they will feel it, 
In their fair bosoms but ignite 
Tho flame of love, ’twill burn so bright, 
They'll love you and they can’t conceal it! 
Bethany, N. Y., Feb., 1855. SALT. 
Anecdote of Major Ben Russell. —Why 
it is that mankind—and more particu’arly 
womankind—desire to conceal their ages, is a 
problem which has never yet been solved.— 
Speaking of this a few days since, a gentleman 
related, in course of conversation, the follow¬ 
ing anecdote: 
Major Ben Russell and Benjamin Bussey, 
Esq., met in a barber’s shop, towards the close 
of their lives. 
“Ah, how do you do, old Ben Russell?” 
said Mr. Bussey. 
“ Come, now,” replied Major Ben, “ I like 
that—especially from you, who are about my 
age,”—which was a truth. 
“Aunt Lizzie,” said a little boy, “ will you 
Btand at the head of the stairs, while I go 
down to the basement?” “Yes,” said the 
aunt, “ but what are you afraid of, the walls?” 
‘No,” said Charlie, earnestly. “Is it the 
stair-rods?” inquired aunt Lizzie. “No,” 
said Charlie, looking for the next question. 
The bannisters?” said aunt Lizzie. “ No,” 
repeated the boy, turning from side to side, and 
reddening with impatience. “Well, Charlie, 
said the aunt, tenderly drawing him towards 
her, and smiling, “ is it the stair carpet ?”- 
‘ No,” said Charlie, twisting from her warm 
kiss, and stamping his foot; “I tell you it is 
no such thing.” “Then,” saidtheaunt, “it 
must be something out of sight, for there is 
nothing else in the hall that I can think of. ’ ’ 
“You hav’nt said rats,” said the hoy, pout- 
“ Upon my word,” replied Mr. Bussey, | in S> and looking into his aunt’s eyes with as- 
“ you’re my senior by ten years.” 
“ Oh, no,” replied Russell, who, after a mo¬ 
ment’s thought, as if seeking for a test, asked 
—“ What is the first thing that you can re¬ 
collect ?” 
“The first thing I can recollect,” replied 
Mr. Bussey, “ was hearing people talk about 
old Ben Russell! ” 
The Rahway Advocate tells the following 
good story at the expense of one of the “ upper 
ten” of New York city : 
Mr.-is one of the “ merchant princes’ 
of the Empire City, and though living in one 
of the most spacious mansions on the Fifth-av., 
his entire family consists of himself and his 
wife. Meeting a friend from the country one 
day he invited him up to view his house. The 
friend was shown the gorgeous rooms, with 
tessellated floors and magnificent frescoed ceil¬ 
ings, and filially was taken into the lower 
rooms, in one of which he found a small regi 
ment of colored servants seated at a bountitul 
dinner. On his return home he was asked if 
he had seen Mr. So-and-so ? “ Oh yes 
What is he doing now?” “Well, when 
saw him he was keeping a nigger boarding 
house on the Fifth-avenue.!” 
The Language of Pine Wood.— In North 
Carolina it is frequent among her forests of 
fat pine, for a lover in distress to send the fair 
object of his affections a bit of its staple veg¬ 
etable production, with an eye painted upon 
it. It signifies “ I pine.” If favorable to 
him, the young lady selects from the wood pile 
the best and smoothest specimen of a knot — 
this signifies “ pine not.” But if, on the other 
hand, she detests him, (there is no. middle 
ground between detestation and adoration with 
young women,) she burns one end of his mes¬ 
sage, and this generally throws the young 
man in despair, for it means, “ I make light of 
your pining.” 
I am composed of 28 letters. 
My 16, 2, 8, 19, 3, 24 is a French coach. 
My 7, 18, 28, 23, 10, 15 is a falsifier. 
My 5, 21, 11, 20, 14, 4 is put at hazard. 
My 1, G, 12, 25, 17, 28 is a kind of glass ware. 
My 26, 8, 12, 19, 13, 10, 21 is a small axe. 
My 9, 22, 15, 1, 2, 4 is a prohibition. 
My whole is a saying of daiiy observance. 
Root, N. Y., 1855. c. n. 
pT" Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE WAY TO OVERCOME FEAR. 
snrance. * 1 The rats, ’ ’ said aunt Lizzie, ‘ ‘ who 
needs to fear them, when puss drives the crea¬ 
tures all away. ” “ You would’nt like to have 
one bite your finger,” said Charlie. “No,” 
returned the aunt, ‘ ‘ hut we never need fear, 
when the rat has a natural enemy to keep him 
away. God is everywhere, too, taking care of 
every living thing ; and no harm will come to 
the little hoy who puts his trust in Him.” 
“ Aunt Lizzie,” said the little philosopher, 
1 ‘ you saw a bird fly away when puss came 
near, and if God was there, why was the bird 
afraid of the cat?” “Because,” said the 
aunt, “the cat is the bird’s natural enemy 
God made the bird to feel this, and escape 
when danger is nigh. You should fear dan¬ 
ger hut you may escape it.” “ How,” said 
Charlie. “Now, you fear rats,” said the 
aunt, ‘ ‘ when there is no danger ; and fear is 
what you want to escape. God is everywhere : 
just think of that, all the way down stairs. 
God is near, close by little Charlie all the 
time. You wouldn’t fear the rat to keep God 
in mind, would you ?” “ No,” said the boy, 
looking happy as usual. “Aunt Lizzie, you 
needn’t stand there, I can go alone. 
Eliza. 
If you multiply any given number by itself, 
say 8 ; thus, say 8x8=64, then take one from 
the multiplier and add it to the multiplied, the 
product will always fall short by one of the 
lormer product. Thus, 8—1—7, and 8—^—1=9 
7X9=63. 
School Master Wanted. —A Columbus 
(Ga.) paper received the following from an 
individual residing in the upper part of the 
State: 
“ A Try-weekly male is a runnin to our 
post offiis, and hearin of a mighty fuss in 
France or Crimear, I want you to send me 
some papers with the latest accounts, or give 
me the particulars by letter. Your paper 
costs to muche, or I would subscribe. 
One of our citizens was thus accosted by 
his landlord : 
“ As everything is on the rise, I feel it my 
duly to raise your rent.” 
“ Sir,” said the tenant, “I feel truly grate¬ 
ful, for times are so hard, that it impossible to 
raise it myself.” The landlord slid. 
Some paper having asked why Cowper was 
in debt, and replied, because he “ Oh—d for a 
lodge in some'vast wilderness,” the Boston 
Telegraph thinks that Cowper wasn’t very 
hard up, for, like the Christian in Bryant’s 
Thanatopsis, he was doubtless “ sustained and 
soothed by an unfaltering trust ” 
A Boy at a “ crossing,” had begged some¬ 
thing of a gentleman ; the latter told him he 
would give him something as he came back.— 
The boy replied “ Your honor would be sur¬ 
prised if you knew how much money I lose by 
giving credit in that way.” 
Our young ladies do not insist on a high 
standing of young gentlemen, whence a varie¬ 
ty of private miseries and public vices. A 
“ correct ” young man is the butt of society ; 
and there are wise men who contend that the 
world is always right. 
A Hint to Farmers.— To make hens lay 
perpetually, hit them on the head with a big 
club. Other modes have been recommended, 
but this is the only one we have found effectual 
The cheapest kind of a horse is a wood 
horse. It supports itself and a good deal of 
fuel. Besides it isn’t dangerous to the children 
and “ the ladies.” Trot up a span and see. 
Answer to Charade in No. 7 : 
A shoe and string denote the thing 
You wish me to discover, 
For either are as given to pair, 
As mistress and a lover. 
For use and show the string’s a beau 
And both so tied together, 
For wear and tear, for foul and fair, 
As up and under leather. 
Both are undone, since both make one, 
If once the tie be broken— 
Shoe sued in fright, of such a plight, 
To Buckle the fair-spoken. 
String saw their plans, forbade the bans, 
Then tied his knot so clever 
’Twixthim and shoe—henceforth the two 
United are forever. 
Long may they reign, a happy twain, 
Each to the other fitted — 
And by the foot, the rival boot 
Like Buckle be outwitted. 
V. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, 
BY I). D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office in Burns’ Block, cor. Buffalo and State Sts. 
terms, in advance : 
Subscription — $2 a year — $1 for six months. To Clubs 
and Agonts as follows 1 Three Copies one year, for $5 ; 
Six Copies (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) for $10; 
Ton Copies (and one to Agont.) for $15, and any additional 
number, at tho same rate. As wo are obliged to pre-pay 
tho American postage on papers sent to tho British Prov¬ 
inces, our Canadian agonts and friends must add 25 cents 
per copy to tho club rates of tho Rural. 
*** The postage on tho Rubai, is but 3if cents per quar¬ 
ter, payable iu advance, to any part of tho State (except 
Monroe County, where it goes free,)—and G>£ cents to 
any other soction of tho United States. 
Advertising. — Brief and appropriate advertisements 
will bo insertod at $1,50 per square, (ton linos, or 100 
words,) or 15 cents per line —in advance. The circulation 
of tho 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 bo advertised in this paper on any terms. 
All 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 dovotod to tho Wool and Stock Growing 
Interi&ts. It contains a vast amount of usef ul and relia¬ 
ble information not given in any othor work, and should 
bo iu the hands of Every Owner of Domestic Animals, 
whether located East or Wost, North or South. Published 
monthly in octavo form, illustrated, at only Fifty Centsa 
Volume —two volumes a year. Volume 7 commences 
January, 1855. Specimen numbers sent free. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
