MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
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'Written for Moore'a Rnral New-Yertier, 
YOUTH AND AGE. 
• .. 
Likes written on discovering penciled on a pillar the 
words Manhood, tho vision-ground of Youth :— 
Youth, the dream-land of Age 
Those “visions” of hope 1 0 brighter they 
Than gaudy splendors real and gay, 
Or morning light’s effulgent ray— 
The lamp of life’s own brightest day I 
And in its light 
• To guide aright 
Our wandering feet so prone to stray,— 
To strive to keep the “narrow way,” 
And love tho truth with “ mind” and “might,” 
Should be our zealous, glad delight. 
And memory’s “ dream-land I” Who shall tell 
The glories of that mystic dell I 
Ah, none its vistas know so well 
As those who’ve heard the parting knell 
Of many a year, 
And felt the sear 
Of chilling Time’s relentless blast: 
Yet, blithesome Youth may view the past, 
And on its checkered roll may And, 
Riches for an immortal mind. 
Bill Home, Victor, N. Y., Ju!.v, 1856. A. M. H. 
THE OLD LOYE. 
I met her ; she was thin and old ; 
She stooped, and trod with tottering feet; 
The hair was gray, that once was gold, 
The voice was harsh that once was sweet. 
Her hands were dwindled, and her eyes, 
Robbed of the girlish light of joy, 
Wore dim ; 1 felt a sad surprise 
That I had loved her when a boy. 
But yet a something in her air 
Restored mo to the vanished time. 
My heart grew young and seemed to wear 
The brightness of my youthful prime. 
I took her withered hand in mine— 
Its touch recalled a ghost of joy— 
I kissed it with a reverent sigh, 
For I had loved her when a boy. 
life's css Dus. 
THE TWO NEPHEWS. 
At the parlor window of a pretty villa near 
Walton on Thames, sat, one evening at dusk, 
an old man and a young woman. The age of 
the man might be some seventy; whilst his 
companion had certainly not reached nineteen. 
Her beautiful, blooming face, and active, 
light and upright figure, were in contrast with 
the worn countenance and bent frame of the 
man; but in his eye, and in the corners of 
his mouth, were indications of a gay self-con¬ 
fidence, which age and suffering had damped, 
but not extinguished. 
“No use looking any more, Mary,” said 
he; “neither John Meade nor Peter Finch 
will be here before dark. Very hard that, 
when a sick uncle asks his two nephews to 
come and see him, they can’t come at once.— 
The duty is simple in the extreme—only help 
me to die, and take what I chose to leave 
them in my will! Pooh ! when I was a young 
mar, I’d have done it for my uncle with the 
utmost celerity. But the world’s getting 
quite hear! less.” 
“ Oh, sir I” said Mary. 
“ And what does ‘ Oh, sir 1’ mean ?” said he. 
“ D’ye think I shan’t die? I know better.— 
A little more and there’ll be an end of old 
Billy Collett. He’ll have left this dirty world 
for a cleaner—to the great sorrow (and ad¬ 
vantage) of his affectionate relatives ! Ugh ! 
Give me a glass of the doctor’s stuff.” 
The girl poured some medicine into a glass, 
and Collett, after having contemplated it a 
moment with infinite disgust, managed to get 
it down. 
“ I tell you what, Miss Mary Sutton,” said 
he, “ I don’t by any means approve your ‘ Oh, 
sir !’ and ‘ Dear, sir,’ and the rest of it, when 
I’ve told yon how I hate to be called ‘ sir ’ at 
all. Why you couldn’t be more respectful if 
you were a charity girl and I a beadle in a 
gold-laced hat! None of your nonsense, 
Mary Sutton, if you please. I’ve been your 
lawful guardian now for six months, and you 
ought to know my likings and dislikings.” 
“ My poor father often told me how you 
disliked ceremony,” said Mary. 
“ Your poor father and you are quite right,” 
said Mr. Collett. “ Fred Sutton was a man 
of talent—a capital fellow ! His only fault 
was a natural inability to keep a farthing in 
his pocket. Poor Fred ! he loved me—I’m 
sure he did. He bequeathed me his only 
child—and it isn’t every friend would do that I” 
“ A kind and generous protector you have 
been !” 
“ Well, I don’t know ; I’ve tried Dot to be 
a brute, but I dare say I have been. Don’t I 
speak roughly to you sometimes ? Havn’t I 
given you some good, prudent, worldly advice 
about John Meade, and made myself quite 
disagreeable, and like a guardian ? Come, 
confess you love this penniless nephew of 
mine.” 
“ Penniless indeed !” said Mary. 
“ Ah, there it is 1” said Mr. Collett. “ And 
what business has a poor imp of an artist to 
fall in love with my ward ? And what busi¬ 
ness has my ward to fall in love with a pov¬ 
erty stricken artist ? But that’s Fred Sutton’s 
nanghter all over ! Havn’t I two nephews ? 
Why couldn't you fall in love with the dis¬ 
creet one—the thriving one. Peter Finch— 
considering he’s an attorney—is a worthy 
young man. He is industrious in the ex¬ 
treme, and attends to other people’s business 
only when he’s paid for it. He despises sen¬ 
timent, and always looks to the main chance. 
But John Meade, my dear Mary, may spoil 
canvass for ever, and not grow rich. He’s all 
for art, and truth, and social reform, and 
spiritual elevation, and the Lord knows what. 
Peter Finch will ride in his carriage, and 
splash poor John Meade as he trudges on 
foot?” 
The harangue was here interrupted by a 
ring at the gate, and Mr. Peter Finch was an¬ 
nounced. He bad scarcely taken his seat when 
another pull at the bell was heard, and Mr. 
John Meade was announced. 
Mr. Collett eyed his two nephews with a 
queer sort of a smile, whilst they made speech¬ 
es expressive of sorrow at the nature of their 
visit. At last, stopping them, 
“ Enough, boys, enough,” said he. “ Let 
us find some better subject to discuss than the 
state of an old man’s health. 1 want to know 
a little more about you both. 1 haven’t seen 
much of you up to the present time, and, for 
anything I know, you may be rogues or fools.” 
John Meade seemed rather to wince under 
this address ; but Peter Finch sat calm and 
confident. 
“ To put a case, now,” said Mr. Collett; 
“ this morniDg a poor wretch of a gardener 
came begging here. He could get no work it 
Eeems, and he was starving. Well, I knew 
something about the fellow, and I only be¬ 
lieve he told me the truth; so I gave him a 
shilling to get rid of him. Now, 1 am afraid 
I did wrong. What reason had I to give him 
a shilling ? What claim has be on me ?— 
What claim has he on anybody ? The value 
of his labor in market is all that a working 
man has a right to; and when his labor is of 
no value, why then he must go to Satan, 
or wherever else he can. Eh, Peter ? That’s 
my philosophy—what do you think ?” 
“I quite agree with you, sir,” said Mr. 
Finch ; “ perfectly agree with you. The value 
of their labor in the market is all that labor¬ 
ers can pretend to—all that they should have. 
Nothing acts more perniciously than the ab¬ 
surd extraneous support called charity.” 
“ Hear, hear 1” said Mr. Collett. “ You 
are a clever fellow, Peter. Go on, my dear 
boy, go on!” 
“ What results from the charitable aid ?” 
continued Peter. “ The value of labor is 
kept at an unnatural level. Slate charity is 
state robbery; private charity is public wrong.” 
“ That’s it, Peter!” said Mr. Col’ett. — 
“ What do you think of our philosophy, John?” 
“ I don’t like it; I don’t believe it 1” said 
John. “ You were right to give the man a 
shilling; I’d have given him a shilling myself.” 
“ Oh, you would—would you?”.-aid Mr. Col¬ 
lett. “ You’re very generous with your shil¬ 
ling?. Would you fly in the face of all ortho¬ 
dox political economy, you Vandal?” 
“ Yes,” said John, “ as the Vandals flew in 
the face of Rome, and destroyed what had be¬ 
come a falsehood and a nuisance.” 
“ Poor John !” said Mr. Collett. “ We 
shall never make anything of him, Peter. Re¬ 
ally, we’d better talk of something else.— 
John, tell us all about the last new novel.” 
They conversed on various topics, until the 
arrival of the invalid’s early bed time parted 
uncle and nephews for the night. 
Mary Sutton seized an opportunity, the 
next morning, after breakfast, to speak with 
John Meade alone. 
“John,” said she, “ do you think no more of 
your own interest—of our interest. What oc¬ 
casion had you to be so violent last night, and 
contradict Mr. Collett so shockingly ? I saw 
Peter Finch laughing to himself. John, yon 
must be more careful or we shall never be 
married.” 
“ Well, Mary, dear, I’ll do my best,” said 
John. “ It was that confounded Peter, with 
his chain of iron maxims, that made me fly 
out. I’m not an iceberg, Mary.” 
“ Thank heaven, you’re not!” said Mary ; 
“ but an iceberg floats—think of that, John. 
Remember — every time you offend Mr. Col¬ 
lett you please Mr. Finch.” 
“ So I do !” said John. “ Yes ; I’ll remem¬ 
ber that.” 
“ If you would only try to be a little mean 
and hard-hearted,” said Mary; “just a little 
to begin with. You would only stoop to 
conquer, John, and you deserve to conquer.” 
“ May I gain my deserts, then !” said John. 
“ Are you not to be my loving wife, Mary ? 
And are you not to sit at needlework in my 
studio, whilst 1 paint my great historical 
picture ? How can this come to pass if Mr. 
Collett will do nothing for us ?” 
“Ah, how indeed?” said Mary. “But 
here’s our friend Peter Finch, coming through 
the gate from his walk. I leave you togeth¬ 
er.” And, so saying, she withdrew. 
“ What, Meade!” said Peter Finch, as he 
entered. “ Skulking in-doors on a fine morn¬ 
ing like this ! I’ve been all through the vil¬ 
lage. Not an ugly place—but wants looking 
after sadly. Roads shamefully muddy ! Pigs 
allowed to walk on the foot-path 1” 
“ Dreadful!” exclaimed John. 
“ I say—you came out pretty strong last 
night,” said Peter. “ Quite defied the old 
man ! But I like your spirit.” 
“ I have no doubt you do,” thought John. 
“ Oh, when I was a youth, I was a little 
that way myself,” said Peter. “ But the 
world—the world, my dear sir—soon cures us 
of all romantic notions. I regret, of course, 
to see poor people miserable; but what’s the 
use of regretting I It’s no part of the busi¬ 
ness of the superior classes to interfere with 
the laws of supply and demand ; poor people 
must be miserable. What can’t be cured 
must be endured.” 
“That is to say,” returned John, “what 
we can’t cure, they must endure !” 
“ Exactly so,” said Peter. 
Mr. Collett was this day too ill to leave his 
bed. About noon he requested to see his 
nephews in his bedroom. They found him 
propped up by pillows, looking very weak, 
but in good spirits, as usual. 
“ Well, boys,” said he, “ here I am, you see; 
brought to anchor at last! The doctor will 
be here, soon, I suppose, to shake his head 
and write recipes. Humbug, my boys ! Pa¬ 
tients can do as much for themselves, I be¬ 
lieve, as doctors can do for them ; they’re all 
in the dark together — the only difference is 
that the patients grope in English, and the 
doctors grope in Latin 1” 
“You are too sceptical, sir,” said John 
Meade. 
“ Pooh!” said Mr. Collett. “ Let us 
change the subject. I want your advice, Pe¬ 
ter and John, on a matter that concerns your 
interests. I'm going to make my will to-day, 
and I don’t know how to act about your 
cousin, Emma Briggs. Emma disgraced us 
by marrying an oilman.” 
“ An oilman !” exclaimed John. 
“ A vulgar, shocking oilman 1” said Mr. 
Collett, “ a wretch who not only sold oil, but 
soap, candles, turpentine, black-lead, and 
birch-brooms. It was a dreadful blow to the 
family. Her poor grandmother never got 
over it, and a maiden aunt turned Reformer 
in despair. Well! Briggs the oilman died 
last week, it seems ; and his widow has writ¬ 
ten to me, asking for assistance. Now, I 
have thought of leaving her a hundred a-year 
in my will. What do you think of it ? I’m 
afraid she don’t deserve it. What right had 
she to marry against the advice of her friends? 
Y\ hat have I to do with her misfortunes ?” 
“ My mind is quite made up,” said PeteC 
Finch ; “ no notice ought to be taken of her. 
She made an obstinate and unworthy match 
—and let her abide the conseqnences !” 
“Now for your opinion, .John,” said Mr. 
Collett. 
“ Upon my word, I think I must say the 
same,” said John Meade, bracing himself up 
boldly for the part of the worldly man.— 
“ What right bad she to marry — as you ob¬ 
served with great justice, sir. Let her abide 
the consequences — as you very properly re¬ 
marked, Finch. Can’t she carry on the oil¬ 
man’s business ? I dare say it will support 
her very well.” 
“ Why, no,” said Mr. Collett; “ Briggs 
died a bankrupt, and his widow and children 
are destitute.” 
“ That does not alter the question,” said 
Peter Finch. “ Let Briggs’ family do some¬ 
thing for her.” 
“ To be sure !” said Mr. Collett. “ Briggs’ 
family are the people to do something for ber. 
She musn’t expect anything from us —must 
she, John?” 
“Destitute, is she?” said John. “With 
children, too! , Why this is another case, sir. 
You surely ought to notice her—to assist 
her. Confound it, I’m lor letting her have a 
hundred a year.” 
“ Oh, John, John ! What a break-down !” 
said Mr. Collett. “ So you were trying to 
follow Peter Finch through StODy Arabia, 
and turned back at the second step ! Here’s 
a brave traveler for you, Peter 1 John, John, 
keep to your Arabia Felix, and leave the 
sterner ways to very different men. Good 
bye, both of you. I’ve no voice to talk any 
more. I’ll think over all you have said.” 
lie pressed their hands and they left the 
room. The old man was too weak to speak 
next day, and, in three days alter that, he 
calmly breathed his last. 
As soon as the funeral was over, the will 
was read by the confidential man of business 
who had always attended to Mr. Collett’s af¬ 
fairs. The group that sat around him pre 
served a decorous appearance of disinterested¬ 
ness ; and, the usual preamble of the will hav¬ 
ing been listened to with breathless attention, 
the man of business read the following in a 
clear voice: 
“ I bequeath to my niece, Emma Briggs, 
notwithstanding that she shocked her family 
by marrying an oilman, the sum of four thou¬ 
sand pounds : being fully persuaded that her 
lost dignity, if she could ever find it again, 
would do nothing to provide her with food, 
with elothing, or shelter.” 
John Meade smiled, Peter Finch ground his 
teeth—but in a quiet, respectable manner. 
The man of business went on with his read¬ 
ing- 
“ Having always held the opinion that wo¬ 
men should be rendered a rational and inde¬ 
pendent being—and having duly considered 
the fact that society practically denies her the 
right of earning he^ own living — I hereby 
bequeath to Mary Button, the only child of 
my old friend, Frederick Sutton, the sum of 
ten thousand pounds, which will enable her 
to marry or remain single, as she may prefer.” 
John Meade gave a prodigious start upon 
hearing this, and Peter Finch ground his 
teeth again—but in a manner hardly respect¬ 
able. Both, however, by a violent effort, 
kept silent. 
The man of business went on with his read¬ 
ing. 
“ I have paid some attention to the charac¬ 
ter of my nephew, John Meade, and have been 
grieved to find him much possessed with a 
feeling of philanthropy, and with a general 
preference for whatever is noble and true over 
whatever is base and false. As these tenden¬ 
cies are by no means such as can advance 
him in the world, I bequeath him the sum of 
ten thousand pounds—hoping that he will 
thus be kept out of the workhouse, and be 
enabled to paint his great historical picture— 
which, as yet, he has only talked about. 
“ As for my other nephew, Peter Finch, he 
views all things in so sagacious and selfish a 
way, and is so certain to get on in life, that 
I should only insult him by offering an aid 
that he does not require ; yet, from his affec¬ 
tionate uncle, and entirely as a testimony of 
admiration for his mental acuteness, I venture 
to hope that he will accept a bequest of five 
hundred pounds towards the completion of 
his extensive library of law-books.” 
How Peter Finch stormed, and called 
names—how John Meade broke into a de¬ 
lirium of joy—how Mary Sutton cried first, 
and then laughed, and then cried and laughed 
together; all these matters I shall not at¬ 
tempt to describe. Mary Sutton is now 
Mrs. John Meade ; and her husband has ac¬ 
tually begun the great historical picture.— 
Peter Pinch has taken to discounting bills, 
and bringing action on them ; and drives 
about in his brougham already. 
Our thoughts should depend from our souls 
as leaves from a tree—so natural, so uncon- 
strainedly ornamental, so easily stirred, so 
closely connected, so entirely one in nature.— 
And like leaves upon a tree, when a storm 
wind shakes them, we shall see only the sickly, 
the pale, and the dead fall to the ground. 
A FRENCH LOVER. 
Dr. TnoMrsox, in one of his letters to the 
Western Christian Advocate, on French char¬ 
acter, relates the following story : 
The French are enthusiastic. Possessed of 
less wit tbafi the Irish, less genius than the 
English, lees studiousness than the Germans, 
they have more imagination than all of them. 
You may see this in their military operations, 
in which they are in strong contrast with their 
neighbors across the channel. English soldiers 
are characterized by cool intrepidity, French 
by irresistible impetuosity. So in their at¬ 
tachments—the English are distinguished by 
persistence, the French by ardor. While seat¬ 
ed one morning in the office of the American 
embassador, Mr. Mason, came in, and after 
the usual salutation, said, “ Did you ever get 
into a profuse perpiration, and have a wet 
blanket thrown over you ?” “ No.” “ I did 
yesterday. A lady came to me with the fol¬ 
lowing narrative: ‘I am from the United 
States, and have in care a young lady who has 
been visiting ber friends in this country. She 
is a Protestant, and her father and mother, 
when dying, charged her never to forsake her 
faith or marry a Catholic. She has, more¬ 
over, a Protestant friend in the United States 
to whom she is attached, and to whom on her 
return to New York, she expects to be mar¬ 
ried. While in the south of Prance she met 
a French gentleman who was smitten with 
her; he procured an introduction to her, and 
has been courting her with unremitting atten¬ 
tions ever since. She has wed every measure 
to shake him off; she has frowned upon him ; 
she has told him she can never marry him, that 
it is utterly impossible ; that his attentions 
are unpleasant, wearisome, disgusting, even 
painful to her; and she has peremptorily or¬ 
dered him never to see her. He replies, * That 
is impossible till I die. I cannot live without 
seeing you.’ 
We came to this city in hopes to escape 
him, but he watched our movements and came 
with us ; we sought to hide from him here, but 
he has found us out. We have told him that 
we shall soon leave the country, and that he 
had better return home. ‘ No, no,’ said he, 1 1 
will go with you when you go, will stop when 
you stop, 1 will stay where you put up, I will 
live where you live, I will die where you die.’ 
Now, can nothing he done to save us fiora 
this annoyance?’ ” Mr. Mason said he imme¬ 
diately sent for the Prefect of Police, and gave 
him the facts in presence of the old lady.— 
“Your troubles are at an end,” said the policG 
officer ; “ the young man will see your ward 
no more. Give me his name and address; we 
will command him, and if he obey not, we have 
a way of making him obey.” Mr. M. return¬ 
ed with the old lady to her lodgings, and an¬ 
nounced to the young one the joyful tews of 
her deliverance from the annoyance to which 
she had been subjected, when lo! with a gush 
of grief, sLe cried, “ Oh, you have been so cru¬ 
el as to apply to the police! You will wound 
the young man’s feelings. Ob, he is such a 
fine, such a noble young man. I would suffer 
any thing rather than wound his heart.” “ I 
started homeward,” said Mr. M., “immediate¬ 
ly, saying within myself, we have been doirg 
mischief; they will be married as sure as the 
world. No resisting French enthusiasm.” 
Wit aiiii Itttttsr. 
“ My Circumstakce8, but not my Name.” 
—There was a dry old fellow, whose wit was 
the amusement of the residents of the south of 
Jefferson county. He was sitting one day in 
the village store ; a gentleman who came in 
thought he recognized a friend, and said:— 
“ How do you do, Mr. Underhill^?” The old 
man said, “ Sir, you have described my cir¬ 
cumstances, but that is not my name.” The 
same old fellow called one day on the mem¬ 
ber of Congress elect; the family were at 
breakfast; there was a vacant seat, but the old 
man was hardly in a plight to be invited [to 
the table. The following conversation took 
place ; “ How do you do, Mr.-? What 
is the news?” Said the old man, “ Nothing 
much, but one of my neighbors gave his child 
a queer name.” “What was it?” “Come 
and eat.” This sounded so peculiar that it 
was repeated. “What, come and eat?" “Yes, 
thank you,” said the old man, “ I don’t care 
if I do,” and drew up to the table.— Rome Sen¬ 
tinel. 
Anecdote of Rev. Sidney Smith. —Lady 
Cubebs had a great passion for tho garden 
and the hot house, and when she got hold of a 
celebrity like the Rev. Sidney, was sure to di¬ 
late upon her favorite subject. Her gerane- 
ums, her auriculas, her dahlias, her carnations, 
her acacias, her lillia regia, her ranunculus, 
her marygolds, her peonies, her rhododendron 
procumbens, mossy pompone and rose pubes- 
scens were discussed with all the flow of hot¬ 
house rhetoric. “ My Lady,” asked the Rev¬ 
erend wit, “ did you ever have a psoriasis sep- 
tennis ?” “ 0, yes, a most b-e-a-u-tiful one.— 
I gave it to the Archbishop of Canterbury .— 
Dear man ! and it came out so in the spring!” 
The psoriasis septennis is the medical name 
for the seven years’ itch.' A decided sell, that. 
A soldier on trial for habitual drunken¬ 
ness, was addressed by the President: — 
“ Prisoner, you have heard the prosecution for 
habitual drunkenness ; what have you to say 
in defence?” “ Nothing, please your honor, 
but habitual thirst.” 
Satisfactorily Accounted for. —Philoso¬ 
phers say that shutting the eyes makes the 
sense of hearing more acute. May not this 
account for the many closed eyes that we see 
in church every Sunday ? 
A tradesman having sunk his shop floor a 
couple of feet, announces that “ in consequence 
of recent improvements, goods will be sold 
considerably lower than formerly.” 
A FARM WANTED. 
A farm of about 60 acres*, within 4 mi’os of the city of 
Rochester. Tho laml must bo in perfect order, under a 
good state of cultivation, and the buildings in good con¬ 
dition. Apply to H A. BREWSTER, 
290-3t No. 1 Arcado, Rochester, N ,Y. 
NOTICE. 
Wk should bo happy to see all those who are desirous 
of seeing tho large size and groat bearing habit of the 
New Rochelle or Lawton Blackberry, at our Nursery, on 
the first of August, when tho fruit will be ripe. 
GEORGE SEYMOUR k Co. 
South Norwalk, July 23d, 1856. 290-2t 
VERY DESIRABLE FARM FOR SALE 
Thk subscriber offers for sale his farm situated in Staf¬ 
ford, Genesee Co., N. Y., consisting of 180 acres of choice 
land with dwolling and out houses complete, two miles 
south of Byron, on the Central Railroad, a fair proportion 
of meadow well watered, 30 aore3 of hoavy timber, and 
tlio bnlanco first quality wheat land. Terms of payment 
made easy, and further information may ho obtained of 
the owner on the premises. WILLIAM WOOD. 
Stafford, July 23,1856. 200At 
YOUNG NURSERY STOCK. 
Tnv subscribers in addition to their largo supply of 
well grown Fruit and Ornamental Trees. Shrubs, Plants, 
&c.. offer toNursorymen and others, the following young 
Stock : 
400,000 apple trees, 1 year old from the graft. 
60,000 standard poar trees, 1 year old from the bud. 
160 000 dwarf “ 1 “ *• 
360,000 apple seedlings, 2 “ 
150,000 cherry do. 1 “ 
200,000 Osaze orange, 2 “ 
The whole of this stock Is remarkably well grown, and 
will be sold in large parcels at very low rates. 
For older stock, seo general advertisement. 
J tfS~ Catalogues Nos. 1 2, 3, 4 and 6, sent to applicants 
enclosing a stamp each to pre-pay postage. 
THORP, SMITH, HANCHETT & Co. 
Syracuse, N. Y., 16th July 1866. 290-7teow 
FRUIT AND ORNAMENTAL TREES. 
AUTUMN OF 1866. 
Our now wholesale Catalogue or Trade List for tho 
Autumn of 1855 is ready, ami will be sent gratis to all 
who enclose a stamp. 
Tho stock now on the ground Is of tho finest descrip¬ 
tion, and by far the largest that has ever been offered in 
this country. 
Nurserymen, dealers and planters can be supplied on 
very advantageous torms, and they will find it to their 
interest to consult our list, and examine tho stock before 
purchasing. 
Our arrangements fhr packing and shipping are so 
complete, that wo can forward packages to the most re¬ 
mote parts of tho United States and Canada with safety. 
Any of the following catalogues will he sent to all who 
apply and enclose a stamp for each : 
No. 1. A Doscriptivo Cataloguo of Fruits. 
No. 2. A Descrlptivo Cataloguo of Ornamonlal Trees, 
Shrubs, Roses, &c kc. 
No, 8. A Catalogue of Dahlias, Verbenas, Petunias and 
select new Green House and Bedding Plants, published 
every spring. 
No. 4. A Wholesale Priced Catalogue for Nurserymen 
and Dealers. 
No. 6. A Supplemental Catalogue of Fruits, containing 
prices of Fruit Troes for 1864 and 1865, and lists of New 
Varieties. ELLWANGER k BARRY, 
290-2t Mt. Hope Nurseries, Rochester, N. Y. 
BATES BULL CALVES. 
I havk two very superior Bates Bull Calves for sale 
—the get of my first premium Bull Ilalton (11662.)— 
Their dams are the first premium cow Hilpa IV. and the 
imported cow Agate. Their color is mostly red. Price 
$400 each. A credit will be given for approved paper. 
ClockviHe, Madison Co., N. Y. 
289-tf S. P. CHAPMAN. 
FAIRBANK’S SCALES. 
WAREHOUSE No. 189 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 
Thksk celebratod scales are still manufactured by the 
original inventors. By an enlargement of the works, 
and tho introduction of improved machinery, tho scales 
are now furnished at groatly reduced prices. We have 
recently added to our stock a full assortment ofjlne Gold 
and Druggist's Scales, Spring Balances, Patent Beams, 
Weights, kc., and now oiler at wholesale and retail the 
most complete assortment of weighing apparatus to be 
found in tho United States. We havo a now and con¬ 
venient article, which wo denominate the FAMILY 
SCALE—it being particularly adapted to the wants of 
farmers and all housekeepers. Ilay and coal scales set 
In any part of tho country by experienced workmen.— 
Orders and letters of inquiry by mall will receive 
prompt attention. FAIRBANKS k CO., 
289-3mos 189 Broadway, New York. 
FAIRFIELD SEMINARY. 
REV. J. B. VAN PETTEN, A. M., PRINCIPAL. 
This Institution is located in the pleasant and healthful 
villago of Fairfield, Hork. Co., N. Y., i3 11 miles from 
Herkimer and 7 from Little Falls villages on tho N. Y. 
Central R. R., from which students are conveyed free the 
first day of each term. Its accommodations are large 
and pleasant. The Ladles’ Building is a fine new edifice, 
120 feet long, and well proportioned. In this is a Gym¬ 
nasium appropriately furnished. The building will 
be thoroughly repaired preparatory to the Fall and Win- 
terTerms. Board and washing $1,60 i>or weok, Tuition 
from $4 to $6 per term of 14 woeks. Extras at low rates. 
The School is now in suocesf ful operation. Tho Faoulty 
is in high repute with tho Trustees and community.— 
Lectures are given semi-monthly upon appropriate sub¬ 
jects. There is a complete graduating course for Ladies, 
and when completed, Diplomas are conferred, and If 
posslblo, positions secured. During the Fall Term there 
will be a Teachers’ Class, and desired faollitles afforded. 
Fall Term begins August 29th ; Winter Term Dec. 19th. 
For catalogues or rooms address the Principal, 
June, 1865. 289-2t I. MATHER, Secretary. 
COMMERCIAL AGENTS WANTED —To canvass 
permanently. Men of high business capabilities and mor¬ 
al standing and natives of Now England or Now York 
only need apply. The business is highly resputable and 
profitable. Full and detailed information givon on appli¬ 
cation by lotter or in person. A. W. HARRISOM, 
287-9 10 South 7th St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
FARM FOR SALE, 
Containing 207 acres of choice farming land, 150 acres 
improved, the balance timbered • located in town of 
Fayette, Seneca Co.,—3 miles southwest of Waterloo, 6 
east of Geneva,—with two good frame houses and barns 
and sheds sufficient for tho farm. Also a good variety 
of fruit trees. One third of tho farm is sufficiently un- 
derdralnod. It is a loam soli, adapted to all kinds of 
crops. Any person wishing to purchase, it is worth 
their time to call and view it, or address 
286-7t G. VAN RIPER, Waterloo, Senoca Co., N„Y 
BOUNTY LAND WARRANTS, AND THE 
PUBLIC LANDS! 
Gkoiior M. Smith, of Norwich, Chenango County, N. 7,, 
gonoral iigont for locating Land Warrants and purchas¬ 
ing Public Lands, will devote his time and persona) at¬ 
tention to tide business, aided by competent and trusty 
agents in the several localities. Ho has made himself 
familiar with this business by investigation, travel, and 
at muiS expense. He will also attond to any colloctmg 
that may bo intrusted to him. Address 
GEO. M. SMITH,Norwich, N. Y.; Lansing, Mich.; 
Dubuque, Iowa, or St. Paul, Minnesota. 280-txx 
OATS FOR SALE. 
At the residence of tho Subscriber, 13 milos west of 
Pike nollow, 1 in. South of Java lake, and 6 m. N. E, of 
Arcade, in East China, Wyoming Co., N. Y. 
5,000 Bushels of Oats, 
in quantities to suit purchasers. 282-tf 
_ PATRICK COBRY. 
HENRY C. VAIL, 
CONSULTING AGRICULTURIST, NEWARK, N. J , 
Will visit farms, and give suitable advice for thoir Im¬ 
provement, founded on an analysis op thk boil and a 
statement of its hkchanigal condition. Communications 
addressed as above, will moot with prompt attention. 
References —Prof. Jos. J. Mupcs ; R. L. Poll, Esq., Ulster 
Co., N. Y.; J. J. Scofllold, Esq., Morristown, N. J.; Hon. 
John Newton Gould, Hudson, N. Y. 272 0 * 
BUFFALO AGRICULTURAL WAREHOUSE, 
AND SEED STORE. 
No. 196 Main St, _ BUFFALO. 
H. C. WHITE, 
WHOLKSAIK AND RKTAII. DKALKK IN 
FARMING IMPLEMENTS 
FIELD AND GARDEN SEEDS, 
TREES, PLANTS AND SHRUBS, 
A1SO AOKNT FOR 
Boston Belting Co.’s Rubber Bolting, Hose, &n. 
