MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
THE WINDS. 
AN IMITATION OF EDGAR A. FOE’S ‘‘BELLS.” 
Hear the gentle Summer winds, 
Zephyr winds, 
Of what sweet zEolian music their melody reminds ; 
How they whisper—whisper—whisper— 
Through the halmy air of night, 
While their strains so sweet and floating 
All their joyfulness denoting, 
Pill the Spirit with delight. 
How they glide—glide—glide, 
By the window, at your side. 
Ah ! what charming undulation every list’ning person 
finds, 
In the winds—winds—winds—winds 
Winds—winds—winds— 
In the breathing and the playing of the winds, 
Hear the cold W nter winds, 
Icy winds, 
Of what joyous fireside home scenes their chilling blast 
reminds, 
Hear them whistle—whistle—whi tie— 
In the freezing air of night, 
And with constant clamor blowing, 
Ever loud and louder growing, 
How they chill and blast and blight I 
Hear them roar—roar—roar, 
Now more fiercely than before ; 
’Tis a hanging, slamming uproar that everybody finds 
In the winds—winds—winds—winds 
Wind s—winds—winds, 
In the rushing and the brushing of the winds. 
Hear the solemn Churchyard winds, 
Mournful winds, 
Of what agony and sorrow their direful chant reminds, 
How they mutter—mutter—mutter— 
Bound those graves and vaults at night, 
Their unceasing moan and sighing 
Makes you think of dead and dying, 
And of ghosts in shrouds of white. 
Hear them blow—blow—blow— 
As if saying only “woe I” 
Ah ! what sorrowful vibrating the weeping mourner 
finds 
In the winds—winds—w inds—winds— 
Winds—winds—winds. 
In the moaning and the groaning of the winds. 
Hear the awful Tempest winds, 
Stormy winds. 
Of what wrecks and sad destruction their angry roar 
reminds. 
How they grumble—grumble—grumble— 
Through the wood and vales—at night, 
While their mad-terrific rushing 
Through the trees and buildings brushing, 
Really chills you with affright. 
Hear them howl—howl—howl 
With a fierce and angry growl. 
Sad and cheerless desolation every human being finds, 
In the winds—winds—winds—winds— 
Winds—winds—winds— 
In the grumbling and the rumbling of the winds. 
Ham. College, December 1, 1854. A. T. P. 
A THANKSGIVING STORY. 
At five o’clock upon Thanksgiving morn¬ 
ing, Deacon Wilson arose as he was wont, no 
holiday making any change in his hours.— 
Yet now he no longer sprang from his bed 
with the alacrity which changed duty into 
pleasure ; he rose because imperious necessity 
commanded it. There were the cattle to be 
fed and watered, and the poultry to receive the 
same attention, and there was, moreover, a 
fire to be made in the huge old kitchen fire 
place ; for the deacon had now no servant or 
helper, and in the grey winter of his life the 
whole burthen of managing his place had fal¬ 
len on his shoulders. Fortunately, they were 
broad and strong—fortunately his constitu¬ 
tion was good, his spirits elastic, and his piety 
sincere, for his burthens and trials were indeed 
weighty. He had been comparatively rich— 
he was now in embarrassed circumstances. 
He had looked forward to the time when a 
son should relieve him of the most laborious 
of his toils, while a daughter performed the 
same kind office for his wife. Both had been 
disappointed—and now the old couple were 
the solitary tenants of that lone farm house. 
The deacon went mechanically about his 
morning labors; he drove the cattle to the 
water tank ; he supplied them with fresh fod¬ 
der, and after seeing that they were comforta¬ 
ble, returned to the old kitchen. By this 
time the good wife had prepared a breakfast, 
and a genial fire was diffusing its heat through 
the apartment. 
The old couple sat down to breakfast after 
a blessing by the old farmer, but the meal 
passed by in silence. It was followed by a 
fervent prayer and the reading of a portion of 
the Scripture. After this they adjourned to 
the sitting room. 
“Well,” said she, with a sigh, “this is 
Thanksgiving Day. It doesn’t seem like old 
times at all. We used to have a house full of 
company, frolicksome young folks and cheer¬ 
ful old people—and now we are alone, alone.” 
“Last Thanksgiving Day,” said the old 
man, “ there was one with us who seemed to 
my old eyes like an angel of light, with her 
fairy golden hair floating like a glory on her 
shoulders, and her little foot making music as 
she moved about the old house. But even 
then there was a hectic flush upon her cheek 
like the red upon the maple leaf in autumn.— 
When the January snows lay deep on the hills 
and in the hollows, we carried her to her last 
home—but God’s will be done.” 
“ You forget that we have another child 
alive.” 
“ No, I do not forget it,” said the old man 
bitterly. “ There is one living somewhere 
who has brought disgrace upon our name— 
who has forgotten his parents and his God, 
—who has drunk deep of the cup of iniquity, 
and who has brought ruin and woe upon his 
name and family.” 
“ Do not speak harshly of poor William,” 
pleaded the mother. 
“ Why should I not ? Was he not insensi¬ 
ble to kindness—steeled against affection ?— I 
Did he not scatter my hard earnings to the 1 
wird ? Is it not to him that I owe the pros¬ 
pect of beggary and destitution? Remember 
the first of February. That is the last day of 
grace. If the money comes not then, and 
God knows whence it is to come, we are house¬ 
less beggars. Who will care for us then ?” 
“ God will, cate for us,” said the aged wo¬ 
men, raising her eyes reverently to heaven. 
The old man made no reply, for his utter¬ 
ance was choked. At that moment the old 
clock that stood ticking in the corner struck 
the hour of nine. The deacon rose. 
“ It is time to harness old Dobbin,” said he, 
“ for we have a loDg way to ride to meeting, 
and the roads are in a bad condition.” * 
The r preparations were soon made, and the 
old couple, poorly but decently attired, sallied 
forth to their public devotions. The services 
ended, the deacon and his wife, a3 they issued 
from the porch, were kindly greeted by many 
old friends and neighbors, more than one of 
whom pressed them to come and partake of 
their thanksgiving cheer. But the deacon 
shook his head. 
“ Many thanks, my friends,” he said, “ but 
ever since I have been a householder, I have 
kept my thanksgiving at home, and I shall 
continue tc do so as long as I have a house 
remaining over my head.” 
So they rode home together. While the 
deacon drove up to the barn to put up his 
horse, the o’d lady opened the bsck door, 
which was always on the latch, and entered 
the kitchen. As she did so, she started back. 
A stranger was seated by the kitchen fire, 
who rose on her entrance. He was a tall, 
stalwart man, dressed in a rough suit, with a 
broad leafed hat, his countenance embrowned 
by exposure to the sun and wind, and his up¬ 
per lip almost concealed by a heavy and luxu¬ 
riant moustache. 
“ Good mornirg, ma’am,” he said, with 
some embarrassment. “ Finding no one an¬ 
swered my knocks, I took the liberty of walk¬ 
ing in. I believe I owe you no apology, for 
I have officiated as turnspit, and saved your 
thanksgiving turkey from burning.” 
“ I atn very much obliged to you, I’m sure,” 
answered the old lady, pulling off her mittens. 
“ But did you want to see me or the deacon?” 
“ Both of you,” answered the stranger.— 
“ You had a son, I believe ?” 
“ Yes,” said Mrs. Wilson, with hesitation, 
and casting down her eyes. 
“ I have seen him lately.” 
“ Where ?” inquired the mother, with in¬ 
creased agitation. 
“In California.” 
“ Was he doing well ?” 
“ Admirably. Mother! mother !” he added 
impetuously, throwing back his hat, “ don’t 
you know me—don’t you know your Wil¬ 
liam?” 
He rushed into his mother’s arms, and was 
clasped to her beating heart. After the first 
greeting was over, the young man asked : 
“ Where is sister Emmy ?” 
“ Gone,” answered the mother, as her tears 
flowed forth anew. 
William sank into a seat, and hiding his 
face in his hands, wept bitterly. The mother 
did not attempt to check him. She knew 
those tears weie precious. 
“ And my father ?” asked the young man, 
when he had regained his composure. 
“ He is well. But you had better retire for 
a while. Go to your old room, my son, it is 
just as you left it, and wait till 1 summon you.” 
it was with a fluttering heart that the 
overjoyed mother went about the preparations 
for dinner, and when the table was neatly set, 
every dish in its place, and the turkey smok¬ 
ing hot, waiting to be carved, she summoned 
the old man. He made his appearance at 
once, and took his seat. Glancing around 
the table, he said : 
“ What is this, wife; you have set plates 
for three!” 
“ I thought perhaps somebody might drop 
in unexpectedly.” 
“ There is little danger—hope, I mean—of 
that,” answered the deacon sadly. 
At thi3 juncture, Mrs. Wilson, with a mys¬ 
terious expression, rang the bell, with which, 
in happier days, she was wont to summon 
their tardy children to their meals. 
It was answered by the appearance of the 
long lost William. 
The deacon, who recognized him after a 
moment, gazed upon him with a stern eye, 
but with a quivering lip that betrayed the 
force of his ill-suppressed emotions. 
“ So you have come back at last,” he said. 
“Ye 3 , father, but not as I left you. Fa¬ 
ther, last Thanksgiving day I went into my 
lonely room, and there, kneeling down, ad¬ 
dressed myself to heaven, and solemnly ab¬ 
jured the fatal cup which had brought ruin 
upon me and woe upon this once happy fami¬ 
ly. From that day to this I have not touched 
a drop. Is my probation enough ? Can you 
now welcome back your son and bless him ?” 
“ Bless him ! Yes, yes, bless you, my dear, 
dear boy!” said the old deacon, placing his 
trembling hand on the dark locks of the plead¬ 
er. “ You are welcome William, though you 
come only to witness the downfall of our 
house.” 
“ Not so, father,” answered the young man, 
joyously, “ I have come back to save you—to 
atone for my prodigality, for all my errors. 
It was this hope that sustained me in the lone 
heart of the Sierra Nevada, when I was 
panting with thirst and dying with hunger. 
Thoughts of home, and you and mother, and 
of God’s aDgels, enabled me to conquer for¬ 
tune. I have come back with a store of gold 
—you shall not be a beggar in your old age ; 
father, we shall keep the farm.” 
After this, it is unnecessary to add that joy 
entered the old homestead. It was a chasten¬ 
ed joy, for the shadows of the past yet min¬ 
gled with the sunshine of the present; but 
the felicity which attended the prodigal’s re¬ 
turn was* enough to compensate for many 
sorrows. 
Piety i3 not an end, but a means, through 
the purest repose of the spirit, to attain the 
highest, culture. Wherefore it may be re¬ 
marked, that those who pursue piety as an 
end and aim, are mostly hypocrites. 
AUTUMN. 
The Buffalo Express preaches a most beau ¬ 
tiful and touching sermon cn this Autumn 
ti me, and we can but give it to our readers, 
who will readily trace its authorship to the 
pen of Anson G. Chester : 
There are single words which contain more 
emphasis, more meaning, than can be found 
in many a volume. Say simply “ Heaven,” 
to the follower of the Cress, and his soul is 
suddenly filled with celestial rapture. Say 
“Home” to the exile, and you have recited 
the tenderest pcem that could be constructed. 
Say “ Mother ” to the obdurate criminal and 
his heart will melt like lead within a furnace. 
Say “Autumn ” to the poet, and his fancy ;s 
at once uncurbed—the springs of his pathos 
are unsealed—and the harp of his passions is 
swept by fiDgers that never sweep those chords 
in vain. 
Nature dies annually. Habit has rendered 
us indifferent to the circumstance, else would 
it move and profit us. We witness the pro¬ 
cess and progress of the disease that conquers 
her at iast—see the burning Summer lever 
that follows the sweet and healthful Spring of 
her existence; observe the Autumn hectic 
that flushes her cheek, and the after pallor 
that settles there: watch her dying throes, 
her death ; and finally her sweet clay clad 
in the lily shroud of Winter, and her sur¬ 
passing beauties committed to the tomb ; and 
all this without a pang, perhaps without a 
thought. Oh! men are strangely hard-heart¬ 
ed. Few there are who will leave their busi¬ 
ness, their pleasures, even for an hour, to attend 
the funeral of Nature, and to enrich themselves 
with the grave suggestions of the hour. 
Again the time of her death comes on.— 
Strength has departed from her limbs—her 
sinews are enfeebled—her veins are fast dry¬ 
ing up. Slower and yet slower pace the 
throbbings of her great heart—feebler and yet 
more feeble are the tickings of her hidden 
cheek—dimmer and more dim waxes the light 
of her eloquent eye. Who watches the invalid 
as she passes away ? Who loves her so well 
that he will not suffer her to die alone ? 
The days of the violets are gone ; the days 
of the heat—when the earth approaches near¬ 
est the furnance of the sun, and warms herself 
thereat, until huge beads of sweat glitter upon 
her forehead—have passed away ; the harvest 
is gathered ; the bounties of the year are gar¬ 
nered up. She who dies has bequeathed rich 
legacies to the world, which it will enjoy 
when she is not. Strange that, in the enjoy¬ 
ment of the legacy, we should basely forget 
the source from whence it came. But we do. 
Let the brown leaves fall. Let the herbage 
shrivel and wither. Let the shrill wind 
whistle over the dead plain and through the 
naked branches. We are filled with good, 
and care not .for the general desolation by 
which we are surrounded. We live, though 
Nature dies. 
And yet, there are eyes which are blinded 
by scalding tears as they see the closing hour 
draw nigh. For when she, whose end is at 
hand, sunk to rest before, she sank not alone, 
but took with her those who were precious as 
life or Heaveu. And their grief returns to 
them now like an avenging toe, who having 
besn once foiled, and havmg gathered new 
strength for the contest, comes to crush us 
with his power. Let the dry leaves fall. They 
shall be sprinkled and moistened by the tears 
of unnumbered weepers. 
The death of the year ! It is a time for 
solemn reflections, for subdued fancies, for holy 
resolutions. It is a time to be treasured, not 
wasted. There is poetry in the air when Na 
ture breathes her last—there is admonition in 
the scene, when her bosom ceases from its 
throbbings—there is joy in her going, for we 
know that she will return again. 
The hour offers thee jewels. See that thou 
dost place them in a setting that is seemly, 
and dost wear them proudly. Else wilt thou 
lose a treasure such as angels covet. 
A NEW ZEALAND “LADY.” 
A young gentleman who left Preston, in 
England, above four years ago, thus writes 
home from Wacanni, in New Zealand, to a 
friend :—“ Needle-wo men are much wanted in 
a double capacity ; in the first and most im¬ 
portant as wives, in the second as dressmakers, 
&c. All young men should marry before 
emigrating. Many who come out here form 
matrimonial connections with the natives.— 
My partner is a native, and though faultless 
in form, her complexion is not more fair than 
black—in plain language she is a woman of 
color, the exact shade approaching much near¬ 
er to polished brown paper, or mahogany, 
than anything else 1 can remember. She 
cannot speak English, and is much addicted 
to what you would call smoking, but what 
she elegantly terms kai tupeka ,—Anglice, food 
tobacco. Her hair hangs in negligent grace¬ 
fulness, and is of a beautiful and brilliant 
black. Her eyes are brown, her person tall 
and erect, and her carriage faultless and as 
dignified as that of any European. From 
one ear is suspended a shark’s tooth, and the 
other is embellished with a bit of colored 
worsted. Her feet were never tortured by 
shoes, nor concealed by stockings ; they are 
as fre9 as when nature formed them. She 
swims to perfection, can manage a canoe in a 
sea that would appal a London waterman, 
and is such an adept at catching fish that 
Izaak Walton would have shrunk in opposi¬ 
tion to her. I have been induced to make 
these remarks, as they will apply to the whole 
native race. European women are so scarce 
that English and Maori connections are little 
noticed. The practice is common ; and the 
dark complexion, naked feet, and kai lupeka 
have become familiar to us as possible.” 
Childhood is like a mirror ; catching and 
reflecting images around it. Remember that 
an impious or profane thought uttered by a 
parent may operate on the young heart like a 
careless spray of water thrown upon polished 
steel, staining it with rust that no after scour¬ 
ing can efface. 
MODEL LOCAL ITEMS. 
The Boston Times contains an array of 
local items, which must have been modeled 
after the pattern of some of our cotemporaries. 
Read the thrilling account of these strange 
events : 
A gentleman, in passing along State stre t, 
yesterday afternoon, dropped his _ cane, and, 
when he went to pick it up, he did it. The 
cane had no ferule on it, ike head was gone, 
and pretty soon the stick went-along with 
it3 owner. 
A kitten was seen chasing its tail, on a 
door-step of a house near the corner of Ann 
and Boylston streets, last night. There was 
no policeman in sight at the time, and it is 
not*ascertained, therefore, whether she caught 
it or not. 
The dome of the State House still remains 
in its present position, and there are rumors 
that it will do so still longer, unless it should 
not. A man was seen looking at it the other 
day. 
As an omnibus was passing by Deer Island 
Hospital, on its way to the outer light house, 
a large Newfoundland dog was observed to 
open his mouth. Bystanders thought the an¬ 
imal intended to bark, but it was ascertained 
that he was only gaping. 
As a gentleman, well known in fashionable 
circles, was passing through the Common, 
about midnight yesterday mornirig, just be¬ 
fore sunset, one of the squirrels winked. The 
gentleman had not got more than a mile from 
the spot, when he winked also. We are hap¬ 
py to hear that there is no prospect of his re¬ 
covery. 
The Schoolmaster Abroad. —The follow¬ 
ing is a literal copy of the list of questions 
proposed for discussion in a debating club out 
west: 
Subgccks of Diskushion. 
Is dansin inorralle rong ? 
Is the reading of fictishus wurks commendi- 
ble? 
Is it necessary that femails shud reseave 
thorough litterrary educashun ? 
Ort femails to taik parts in politiks ? 
Duz dress constitute the morral part of 
wimmin ? 
The Albany Argus tells a story of a man 
buying oats, a few days since, who gave a 
fifty dollar bill in mistake for a five. On dis¬ 
covering the blunder, and hastening to have 
it rectified, he feund the recipient of it delib¬ 
erately rubbing out the cipher on the bill, in 
order to make his cash account square with 
his funds. 
An agent soliciting subscribers for a book, 
showed the prospectus to a man who, after 
reading “ one dollar in boards, and one dollar 
and twenty five cents in sheep,” declined sub¬ 
scribing, as he might not have boards or sheep 
on hand when called upon for payment. 
Stick no Bills Here. —A waggish boarder 
in one of our principal hotels where they are 
in the habit of putting every man’s bill under 
the door weekly, has nailed a tin sign at the 
foot of his door on the outside, with the noted 
inscription, “ Stick no Bills Here.” 
A gentleman asked a friend in a knowing 
manner—“ Pray, sir, did you ever see a cat 
fish?” “ No, sir,” was the response, “ but I 
have seen a rope walk.” Wonder if he ever 
seen a horse fly. 
ftdbeHisetyei)fs. 
EMPLOYMENT POE LADIES! 
Wanted, several energetic Women to canvass for the 
Woman’s Advocate, a large weekly paper, edited, print¬ 
ed and published by women. A largo commission given. 
Address ANNA E. McDOVELL, Philadelphia. 
SUFFOLK BOAR FOR SALE. 
This Boar is considered by good judges as being one of 
the best swine in the State—his stock are very fine. 
Address, Kings’ Ferry. Cayuga Co., N. Y. 
Nov. 12,1855. [307] HENRY McGUIGAN. 
ADVERTISEMENT. ~ 
The particulars of a flourishing School for young ladies 
and Gentlemen, will be forwarded to any address, on 
application to the Rev. RICHARD RADLEY, Rector of 
St. Paul’s, Stafford, Genesee Co., N. Y. 307 
A SMALL FARM FOR SALE. 
Twenty-five acres of cap’tal land, beautifully situated, 
oue mile west of Parma Corners, on the great Ridge 
Road—with good buildiegs, well fruited with Apples, 
Pears. Poaches, Grapes, &c. Also a choice small Nurse¬ 
ry, with soil well adapted for its enlargement. For 
particulars apply to J. WOODWARD, 
307 Parma, N. Y. 
DR. WALKER, OCULIST AND AURIST, 
$g!|Bp^FROM THE ROYAL OPHTHALMIC HOSPITAL, 
W& I/mdon, England, attends exclusively to the 
treatment of DEAFNESS, and all diseases of 
the EYE and EAR. and performs tho usual operations for 
CATARACT, STRABISMUS, ARTIFICIAL PUPIL, &c , &c. 
Testimonials may be obtained at the office. No. 82 
State street, Rochester, N. Y. 307 
HAMILTON FEMA1.E SEMINARY. 
CLINTON C. BUELL, A. M., Principal. 
The next quarter of this Institution will commence on 
Wednesday, the 19th day of December. 
Expenses for Board, Washing, Furnished Room, Fuel, 
Lights, and Tuition in the common English branches, 
$125 per year. Circulars giving full particulars may be 
obtained by addressing the Principal. 
Hamilton, Nov. 12, 1855. 307 
NEW HORSE-POWER FOR FARMERS ANI) MECHANICS I 
THE VERMONT WIND-MILL. 
Blow winds and crack your cheeks ; rage, blow.— Lear. 
Wind is at once powerful, unoxpensive, and blows 
everywhere. Just the thing for Farmers and Mechan¬ 
ics ; just the thing for a thousand uses ; to grind grain, 
paints,'apples ; to turn lathes, grindstones, scour, polish, 
cut, saw, in the high lofts of buildings, over city and 
country, on mountains, in villagos, and on prairies. To 
work on marble, cut slate, straw, thresh grain, and 
pump water for Railroad stations, for stock, for house¬ 
hold use, fountains, ponds, otc.,—to drain laud, and to 
do the work of millions of muscles everywhere. The 
VERMONT WIND-MILL will do all this and more. It 
will adjust its own sails to tho wind, is simple, strong, 
cheap, and durable, beautiful in theory, certain in ac¬ 
tion. Manufactured by tho invoutor’s Manufacturing 
Company. 
Agents Wanted for the sa’o of this new motive power. 
Town. County and State Rights for sale. Address 
FOWLER & WELLS, 308 Broadwsy, Now York. 
VALUABLE FARMS IN VIRGINIA FOR SALE. 
y fYY The undersigned having oponed a Land Agency in the 
yiiiUl' A, city of Fredericksburg, Virginia, are authorized to sell 
a large number of the mo3t desirable and productive 
/v/-v Farms in that section of the country. These lands are 
— " ali well situated, convenient to market by railroads, 
steamboats, canals and plank roads, and can ho purchas¬ 
ed upon the most favorable t rms, and at prices varying 
from $5 to $20 per acre. For health, good society, de¬ 
lightful climate, productiveness of soil. &c., tho vicinity 
array Or of Fredericksburg is equal to any portion of the ivorld. 
modeled Their locality and the low prices at which they can bo 
. purchased renders the lauds in the vicinity of Frcdcr- 
iporaries. ickshurg, Virginia, the safest and most desirablo invest- 
i strange ment in the country Persons wishing further informa- 
° tion, will address either personally or oy letter, 
, , FRANKLIN SLAUGHTER, or 
te stre t, geo. w. stocking, 
me, and, 305 Fredericksburg, Virginia, 
it. The FARM FOR SALE. 
7&S gone, Fifty Acres of Land beautifully situated on tlio east 
TO uv, hank of the Genesee river in West Brighton, four miles 
JlJ o " u south of Rochester. On the premises are 400 peach 
trees of very choice variety ; also, about three acres of 
.. timber. For terms, apply to B. M. Baker Fitzhughst., 
fcll, OH S Rochester, or to 305 H. WOOD, on the premises. 
of Ann agents wanted 
here was In every county in the United States and Canadas, to 
and it is engage in the sale of 
o r*orm*lvt JOHNSON’S PHILOSOPmCAL CHARTS, 
e caugm; JusT PuBIJSHED> 
Being a series of ten each—size 35 by 51 inches—con- 
. taining over 300 drawings illustrative of almost everv 
remains department of this branch of study, accompanied with 
0 rumors an Explanatory Key. forming the most valuable acquisi- 
it should ti0n t0 sct ° o1 a PP urtenan ces ever produced in this 
the other PRICE, neatly Colored and mounted on Cloth and Rol¬ 
lers, 
$15 PER SET. 
er Island A very li5>eral discount will be made to competent 
, Agents. For particulars apply personally or address 
ht house, A. RANNEY, Publisher, 
erved to 305 No. 195 Broadway. N. Y. 
t the an- IF YOU WANT EMYLOYMENT send for 
certained SEARS' CIRCULAR TO BOOK AGENTS. Our publications 
“ are counted among the most saleable now published.— 
Address, (post-paid.) ROBERT SEARS, 
ihionable 303-8t Publisher, 181 William street, New York. 
Common LYONS MUSICAL academy! 
• i. u ’ This Institution is claimed to offer facilities such as 
just oe- canno t, b e elsewhere enjoyed in America, for a thorough 
3d. The course of instruction in the following branches, viz. .- 
nile from Instrumental Music— Piano, Organ, Guitar, &c. 
, Vocal Music —Including Cultivation of the Voice, Har¬ 
are nap- mony and Musical Composition. 
3f his TO- Each pupil passes ordinarily from 12 to 20 hours per 
rveek at the Academy in Musical Recitations, Lectures, 
&c., over and above his (or her) required private propor- 
— tion of 3 hours per diem. For Circular containing full 
f a particulars, with opinions of Lowell Mason, D. M., and 
it iouow- others, address the Principal, 
questions l. hinsdale sherwood, a. m., 
elub out Lyons, N. Y. 
Tuition—$ 15 'per term of 11 weeks. Tuition, with 
hoard, washing, use of instrument., &c., $60 per term. 
Winter term to commence Dec. 6, 1855. 
1 83T For further particulars please consult also larger 
advertisement in Rural New-Yorker of 29th September 
•mmendi- uit._ 301 -tf 
COMMERCIAL AGENTS WANTED —To canvass 
[ reseave permanently. Men of high business capabilities and 
moral standing and natives of New England, or N. York 
_ only need apply. The business is highly reputable and 
: profitable. Full and detailed information given on appli- 
1 Dart of cation by letter or in person. A W. IIARRISON, 
I 299-26t 10 South 7th St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
— THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL R. R. COMPANY. 
rvP n ,Tif.TT Ts now prepared to sell over two millions of acres 
Di it mail oj? seeded 
> gave a PRAIRIE, FARM AND WOOD LANDS, 
On dis- In Tracts of 40 Acres and Upwards, 
r to have To suit purchasers, on long credits and at low rates of 
5 •. 1 i-L interest. 
II aeilD- They were granted by the Government to encourage 
ie bill, in the building of this Railroad, which runs from tho ex- 
iare with treme n0 >'th to the extreme south of the State of Illinois. 
auic " 11,11 ita psses, from end to end, through the richest and most 
fertile Prairies of the State, dotted here and there with 
— magnificent Oak Groves. The recent opening of nearly 
, , 600 miles of this road throws open the lands for cultiva- 
r a DOOK, tion. They are scattered from one to fifteen miles on 
fho, after each side of it, through its entire length, 
trip dollar The soil is a dark > rick m ould, from one to five feet in 
! c j U T~ depth, is gently rolling, and peculiarly fitted for grazing 
lined sub- cattle and sheep, and the cultivation of wheat, Indian 
s or sheep corn, &c. 
, F The first crop of Indian corn planted on the newly 
3DX. broken prairie, usually pays the cost of plowing and 
_ sometimes fencing. Wheat sown on new turned sod is 
, , , sure to yield very largo profits. One man with a plow 
n boarder and two yoke of oxen will break one and a half to two 
! they are acres per day. Contracts can be made for breaking, 
hill tindpr read Y for corn or wlleat > at $2 to $2,60 per acre. By 
uni unaer judicious management farms may he broken and fenced 
(U at the the first, and under a high state of cultivation the see¬ 
the noted end year. 
The larger yield on the cheap lands of Illinois, over 
h gh-priced lands in the Eastern and Middle States, is 
_ known to be much more than sufficient to pay the differ- 
. . enceof transportation to the Eastern market. The rapid 
knowing increase and growth of flourishing towns and villages 
see a cat a l° E 8 t' le line of this road afford a growing home de- 
(l . , -r maud for farm produce. 
|e, DUt I Q 0a i a nd w ood are delivered along the road at differ- 
if he ever eut points, at from $1,59 to $4 tho cord or tun. 
Parties having in view Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, or 
Minnesota for their future homes, should take into con- 
sideration that the country west of the Mississippi is 
destitute of railroads : that the conveniences of trans- 
I _ porting grain and produce from farms on the line of the 
j S g Illinois Central Railroad, direct to the great Eastern mar¬ 
ket, is sufficient of itself to pay the investment at from 
$10 to $16 per acre higher than in government lands in 
nvcii Iowa. In other words, that it costs so much more to 
1JL b • got produce from tho interior of the country west of the 
vass for the Mississippi to the Eastern market, and the farmer will 
lited, print- find it much more profitable to locate on the line cf this 
ssion given, railroad. 
ladelphia. price and terjis of payment. 
rrur- The price will vary from $5 to $25, according to lo- 
LE. cation, quality, &c. Contracts for deeds may bo made 
being one of during the year 1856, stipulating the purchase money to 
ery fine. be paid in five annual instalments—the first to become 
due in two years from date of contract the others annu- 
:GUIGAN. ally thereafter. The last payment will become due at 
- the end of the sixt h year from date of contract. 
By the 22d section of the Act of tho Legislature, ap- 
’oung ladies proved 10th February, 1851, these lands are free from 
address, on taxation until they are paid for, and a deed of convey- 
f Rector of ance granted to the purchaser. 
307 interest will be charged at only two per cent, per 
- Annum. 
LE. As a security for the performance of the contract, tho 
ily situated ^ rst tw0 Y ears ’ interest must be paid in advance, but it 
'reat Ridge must he understood that one-tenth of the land purchased 
■ith Apples Bka11 y ear *y bo brought under cultivation. Longer 
mall Nurse! credits at six per cent, per annum may be negotiated 
intent. For ^y special application. Twenty per cent! from tho cred- 
VARD it price will be deducted for cash, in which case the 
11 a N* Y Company’s Construction Bonds will be received as cash. 
—!—!—!— It is believed that the price, long credit, and low rates 
AURIST, of interest charged for these lands, will enable a man 
HOSPITAL with a few hundred dollars in each, and ordinary indus- 
i vely to the tr y > t0 make himself independent before all the purchase 
diseases of money becomes due. In tho mean timo the rapid set- 
icrations for tlemeut of tho country will probably have increased 
1L &c &c. their value four or five fold. When required an experi- 
ffice. No. 82 enced person will accompany applicants, to give infor- 
307 ’ mntion and aid in selecting lands. 
_ Large Plats, showing the precise location of the Lands 
JAEY. throughout the State, may be seen at the office. Small 
ia j " pocket Plats, as a guide to auy of tho Company’s Lands 
and Pamphlets, containing interesting iuformat on, ac- 
immence on companied by numerous letters from respectable far- 
mers throughout tho State, may be had ou application 
Koom, r uel, at t ho office of the Company No. 52 Michigan Avenuo 
1 branches, Chicago. CHARLES M. DU PUY, Jr., 
iars may bo Land Agent Illinois Central Railroad Co. 
307 SILSBY, LANGWORTHY & DANIELS, 
ECHAN 1 CSI HARDWARE ANI) AGRICULTURAL WAREHOUSE, 
j- r r Seneca Kalis, Seneca Co , N. Y. 
’’ r ■fi®. Stoves. Iron, Steel, Tin, and Sheet Iron Work, 
-°w.— Lear. Paints. Oils, wooden Ware. &c. 293-tf 
and blows - 
nd Meehan- KEDZIE’S RAIN WATER FILTER, 
grind grain, #E , TT"l’’’ ! !P| , ti||flIIItafc Manckaitcrkd by j. K. ClIENEY & Co., 
:our, polish, «™|l|^' ™Rochester, N. Y. l’atentod January,’54. 
•or city und nilili'' 1 These Filters have recoivod the higli- 
irairies. To MiWUll jlll'jL/ est commondation from scientific and 
grain, and Hil!' TO medical men. and are in constant use, hav- 
, for house- nfi ffll ! 1 0 ) .[a ing given entire satisfaction to hundrods 
and, and to M ■HIplPj of families! 11 this city aud other parts of 
thero. Tho 1 Bill , illW tho country within the last fifteen years, 
d moro. It jgi lMR [They have boon perfected in the fixtures 
pie, strong, within two years, and can now bo trans- 
rtain in ac- UMmillillllU ' ported in safety.] Wo now mako five 
nufacturing sizes, which retail for five, six, eight, ten, and twelve 
dollars each. 
itive power. The most impure rain water is rendered pure, without 
Idreas taste, color or smell. They are portable, durable, and 
low York. are not excelled by any filtor known. 274-eowtf 
