404 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER; AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
MY OWN SWEET WIFE AND I. 
This world’s a world of care and pain, 
And trials thickly strew it; 
A greater share of loss than gain, 
Most find in passing through it. 
But wherefore at our lot repine ? 
To-day the storm sweeps hy, 
To-morrow’s sun we trust will shine— 
My own sweet wife and I. 
' Five years and more have we been wed, 
And dark has been the weather ; 
Yet never lacked we daily bread, 
Or comfort when together. 
We walk, perchance, while others ride, 
Yet laugh while others sigh, 
» And lift our heads in honest pride— 
®My own sweet wife and I. 
My cheek to thine has oft been prest, 
My true, my own sweet dove ; 
And each the other still hath blessed 
With uncomplaining love. 
True love’s a blessing evermore ; 
Riches take wings and fly ; 
We pine not for the miser’s store— 
My own sweet wife and I. 
Then let the world go as it will, 
Still hopefully we’ll try, 
If not our purse with gold to fill, 
In love to live and die. 
And when the eve of life comes on. 
Resting our hopes on high, 
We shall not rue the moment gone, 
My own sweet wife and I. 
Written for Mcore’o Kara! New-Yorker, 
COUNTRY COUSINS. 
BY MRS. S. WEBSTER LLOYD. 
Many times and oft we have been called 
on to sympathise with the mortification of 
some fashionable city belle, while enduring 
the visit of an unsophisticated country cousin. 
Author has vied with author in holding up to 
ridicule some honest yeoman, and we have 
held our breath at the portraiture of Jona¬ 
than in the rich parlors of his city friends 
(relations I had better say, for friends they 
certainly were not,) lolling back (country 
fashion) in the sofa chairs, or sitting with his 
rough homespun suit upon the embroidered 
velvet ottomans, while his ungainly cowhide 
boots almost crushed out the roses of the car¬ 
peting. Sometimes the object has been to 
provoke a laugh, but oftener to show the 
amiability of the heroine who could even dare 
to own them as relations ; and ever and al¬ 
ways I have pitied the poor victim, who, per¬ 
fectly conscious of his own position, and in¬ 
ferior to the company present in nothing save 
an ignorance of the conventional rules of socie¬ 
ty, was made to feel himself a fool. Why did 
it never occur to some one in the country to 
retaliate these injuries ? Why has not some 
plain spoken woman related her experience 
and shown these martyred city relations that 
the inconvenience, the annoyance, the morti¬ 
fication, even, were not all on one side ; but 
that more than once your country friends 
have blushed for them when they have exhib¬ 
ited their utter ignorance of common things 
and common sense. In the present story I 
have to do with both classes; the country 
folks, however, are not of the rudest, and the 
city people have a sprinkling of the commod¬ 
ity last mentioned. 
Old farmer Hastings, with his wife, hi3 
two sons, Oliver and Hiram, and his one 
daughter Ruth, were some eight or ten years 
ago living on a fine farm about thirty miles 
from the city of R. Mr. Hastings was well 
to do in the world. He had come when a boy 
with his father and only brother into the then 
new country of Western New York, and the 
three hundred acres it was his pride to culti¬ 
vate, was his inheritance from that father.— 
His brother Robert had disposed of his share 
of the property for a small sum to aid him in 
a path of life more congenial to his mind, and 
laboring harder to work his way through col¬ 
lege, and afterwards through the study of 
medicine, than his brother did to fell the giant 
oaks of his new land, he had established him¬ 
self in the then small village of R-, and 
was at this time a physician of eminence and 
standing. The brothers saw each other but 
seldom, though a deep and strong regard had 
ever existed between them. Each had been 
successful in his own sphere. Farmer Has¬ 
tings had seen the trees disappear from his 
farm and the neighborhood, and he loved his 
home as a man may love the land whose re¬ 
sources his own vigorous energies have devel¬ 
oped. He was a plain man, and the declara¬ 
tion “ In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat 
bread,” had been carried out in the spirit and 
letter. His children had been plainly and 
sensibly reared, and for years had aided the 
parents in the avocations of the house and 
farm. Mr. Hastings had not failed to notice 
the studious turn of his younger son, and if 
he had sometimes thought a profession would 
better suit Hiram’s natural turn of mind, he 
had never mentioned it to him. Still he 
watched his growing partiality for study and 
bestowed upon him, and indeed upon all his 
children, every facility for improvement his 
circumstances allowed. 
It was during the winter in which Oliver 
reached his twenty-first year, that the three 
young people were sitting one evening await¬ 
ing the return of their parents from a visit 
to the city. Ruth was busy with the supper, 
the tea kettle was hissing on the stove, the 
nice brown hue of the baked potatoes, the de¬ 
licious odor of the sausages, and the glimpse 
you had of the biscuit peeping from under 
their cover on the hearth, gave promise of a 
good repast. Oliver, with a pair of clamps 
between his knees, was mending a bridle.— 
Hiram was as usual engrossed in a work on 
anatomy. 
It is time they were here,” said Oliver, 
taking up the strap he had mended and giv¬ 
ing it a sudden jerk. 
“I don’t know,” replied Ruth, “Uncle 
Robert will not let them off until after din¬ 
ner, and father dees not drive as fast as you.” 
“ I know, but then the sleighing is excel¬ 
lent—and here they come,” continued Oliver 
as his father’s well known “ Whoa” was heard 
at the door. 
“ I will take care of the horse, Hiram,— 
don’t leave your book,” he went on to say, as 
Hiram arose. 
“ Are you cold, Mother ?” said Ruth, com¬ 
ing forward to take the cloak and veil her 
mother was shaking at the door, for a light 
snow was falling. 
“ No, not very cold, but we are hungry, so 
make haste, Oliver, for I know supper is 
ready.” 
“ My Ruth,” said her father, as he kissed 
the rosy cheek of his daughter, “ I wonder 
what my brother Robert’s daughter, who has 
just come home from boarding school with a 
finished education, would say to cooking a 
supper.” 
“ I would love to see Cousin Annette,” 
said Ruth, as the party sat chatting round 
the table. 
“ And you are to see her to-morrow ; you 
are all to go to the city to-morrow and stay a 
week ; I promised your Uncle so, and Hiram, 
if you choose to remain at the end of the 
week, your Uncle has offered to assist you in 
preparing for a collegiate course. Robert 
has had his eye upon you for a loDg time, 
ever since he caught you experimenting with 
the retort and iron filings—you remember, 
when you burnt Ruth’s hand with the sul¬ 
phuric acid. He says you are not fit for a 
farmer. I don’t know about that; but you 
can stay two years with your Uncle — then 
you will be fitted for college.” 
“But, father, you cannot afford the ex¬ 
pense ; it would not be just to Oliver.” 
“ I have thought of that, too. Oliver is 
twenty-one in a month ; then I shall deed him 
a hundred acres, and give him a hundred dol¬ 
lars. In two years you can return to work 
the land that will then be yours, or the avails 
of it will assist you forward in your own 
path. Only be men, my boys, and God for¬ 
bid I should prevent your being men in the 
line that suits you best.” 
“ But about this visit, father,” said Ruth, 
after a pause, “ why need we go to-morrow, 
and a week is a loDg time to stay in a city.” 
“ Why, my child, some people live in it all 
their lives.” 
“ Yes, but they are used to it. I never feel 
at home there, somehow ; the minute I take 
off my bonnet and go into the parlor, I feel 
so awkward I don’t know what to do with 
my hands, and I know everybody pities me 
and tries not to notice.” 
“ Well, you are to stay a week this time.— 
Robert insisted and I promised.” 
Farmer Hastings was one of those men 
whose word was law, and whose manner put 
down all opposition, so nothing was thought 
but to prepare for the visit. The mother said 
nothing, but she seemed anxious about Ruth’s 
wardrobe; but Ruth always said, “never 
mind, I can’t be anything but a country cousin, 
and I shall sit all the week unnoticed in the 
corner.” 
The next day towards night a span of spir¬ 
ited bright bay horse3 stopped before the res¬ 
idence of Hr. Robert Hastings, and our 
young friends were welcomed by the Doctor, 
his wife and daughter, a young lady just our 
pretty Ruth’s age. To say their coming, 
just at this time, did in no wise discommode 
the fashionable Mrs. Hastings, would be say¬ 
ing too much ; still she was inclined to put 
the best face upon the matter, and expressed 
her pleasure that they had come in time for 
the party of the evening. Ruth turned red 
and white, Hiram fidgeted, but Oliver, the 
plain farmer, said : 
“ We did not know of the party, Aunt, else 
you would scarcely have caught us here ; now 
you must make the best of us, and if you find 
us offending against the rules of propriety, 
try to set us right.” 
Poor Ruth— she began to feel already a 
nervous twitching of the hands, and all she 
had read of awkward country cousins came 
into her mind. An early supper was soon 
served, from which Mrs. Hastings excused 
herself, and soon after the visitors were shown 
to their rooms. Ruth was to share Annette’s. 
“ May I assist you, Cousin Ruth, in select¬ 
ing a dress ?” said Annette. 
“ Oh, Annette, let me stay in this room— 
I cannot go down—ask Aunt to excuse me,” 
said RuTn, as she laid the few dresses she had 
brought upon the bed. 
Annette did not wish to be rude, but the 
thought that thus they might obviate all diffi¬ 
culties, came into her mind. “I will ask 
mama,” she said. 
Through the parlors, the supper room, the 
dressing rooms, Annette sought without 
finding her mother. Then she peeped into the 
library, where her Ceusin Hiram was sitting 
so lest in the contents of a bock as to be un¬ 
aware of her presence. At last she found her 
mother among the confectionery, in the pie 
closet. 
“ Oh mother, Ruth wishes to remain in her 
own room ; cannot we let her ? It will be a 
great favor to her, for she is half frightened 
to death.” 
“ No, it will never do. Your father would 
be displeased,” replied her mother. 
“ I expostulated with him yesterday about 
his insisting they should come to-day, and he 
bade me remember long ago, when he was 
struggling against difficulties, and his prac¬ 
tice was small, who assisted him, who lent 
him money, and whose apples and potatoes, 
beef and pork, lard, butter and cheese found 
their way into our larder, and how, when 
you were a siGkly infant, and my health but 
poorly, who regularly carried us off every 
summer to recruit on the good living and bet¬ 
ter air of the country. 
“ We have never had an opportunity to re¬ 
pay these kindnesses,” said he, “ and now I 
have invited them purposely. Remember to 
whom we owe the health—may be the life— 
of our child, and put no slight upon the chil¬ 
dren of my brother.” 
Tears were in Annette’s eyes as she re¬ 
turned to Ruth— tears of shame at her own 
ungrateful thoughts, and of love and tender¬ 
ness towards her cousin. 
“Mother will not hear of it,” said she, 
« neither, dear Ruth, upon second thought, 
will I.” 
“ But I cannot go,” said Ruth ; “ I should 
not know how to act, beside I have no suita¬ 
ble dress with me, and probably 1 have none 
at all.” 
“ Why, this lilac satin will do very well; 
we will take cut the sleeves and trim it a lit¬ 
tle, or I have just thought I have anew dress 
that has not come home yet; you are just 
about my size, and you shall wear it—I know 
it will fit you,” said Annette generously. 
“ No, no, I will never do that; I should be 
more uncomfortable in that than my own. I 
know everybody will make remarks about 
your country cousin. I shall overhear them, 
and I shall grow more and more uneasy and 
distressed until by and by I shall cry.” 
“Then you will know what to do with 
your hands, Ruth,” and both laughed. At 
that minute a tap was heard at the door, and 
a dressmaker’s apprentice appeared with a 
large box. 
“ Your father called yesterday and ordered 
another dress, like ycur own, for a young la¬ 
dy he said I would find here this evening. It 
is as nearly done as it could be without fit¬ 
ting, and if I am not in your way, I will fin¬ 
ish it here,” and the yourg girl displayed the 
beautiful dresses as she spoke. 
“ Certainly,” said Annette, “ papa wished 
myself and cousin to dress alike, and she has 
but just arrived ; you can have this corner, 
and you will not disturb us at all.” 
“Nobody will suspect you are a country 
cousin, now,” she whispered Ruth, but Ruth 
shook her head, and held up her dreaded hands, 
good humoredly. 
It was past ten before Ruth’s dress was 
completed, and she was ready to descend to 
her Aunt’s parlors, which were by this time 
pretty well filled. Annette had, every now 
and then, run up stairs between the fresh ar¬ 
rivals to re-assure Ruth. Now she had just 
left the side of a tall young man, to whom 
she had said : 
“ I have a cousin up stairs, sister cf the 
Mr. Hastings to whom papa introduced you. 
May I bespeak a little of your attention to 
her, to tell you truly she is a rustic country 
cousin, and it is to protect her and myself 
against mortification that I ask this favor of 
Mr. Dowlon. 
“ I would readily grant Miss Hastings a 
greater,” replied Hector Dowlon gallantly. 
“ Come Ruth, you are surely ready, now, 
and if yon are a country girl, you are a very 
handsome one. Do not be afraid ; there is no 
prettier woman in the whole company than 
my sweet cousin,” said Annette, as she led 
Ruth down. Mr. Dowlon’s eyes had sought 
the door rather anxiously since Annette had 
left him, and he started with surprise and 
pleasure when the two girls entered. 
“ Oh, my brother’s daughter,” said Dr. 
Hastings, as he noticed the start of Dowlon. 
“ Introduce me quickly, if you please, Doc¬ 
tor,” returned the young man. 
It is needless to dwell upon the events of the 
evening. Many things were new to Ruth, 
but her native grace and intuitive knowledge, 
carried her through. Every eye that rested 
on her paused with delight. Dowlon was 
charmed, and Annette, from being pleased, 
grew to be a little jealous of her cousin.— 
Dowlon was a prosperous young merchant, 
a “great catch,” the girls said, and Annette 
had thought him almost caught. So indeed 
had the world. She had never examined her 
heart to test its love for Dowlon. She knew 
her father favored him, and that she preferred 
him before any among her acquaintance, and 
if he had asked her to become his bride, she 
would have said “ yes” unhesitatingly. She 
was piqued then, as hour after hour, he had 
lingered beside Ruth, and particularly when 
he had said at parting “ Ten thousand thanks 
my dear Miss Hastings, for appointing me 
the protector of your charming cousin.” 
COMMERCIAL COLLEGE, 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Now open for the reception of pupils, in Penmanship 
and Book-Keeping. Young gentlemen wishing to secure 
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School worthy of their attention. For particulars, send 
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Rooms, Nos. 93, 94, 95, Arcade. 
Rochester, Nov. 26, 1855. 309 
PHILLIPS, SAMPSON «fc COMPANY 
HAVE JUST PUBLISHED A BOOK UNTITLED 
Oliver had got through the evening com¬ 
fortably. His country manners were appa¬ 
rent, but he had not rendered himself in the 
least ridiculous or annoying ; he had mingled 
little with the company, had danced once with 
Annette, and once with Ruth, and had con¬ 
versed easily and sociably with a few sensible 
people on topics common alike to town and 
country. Among these persons was Dowlon, 
whose admiration of Rum led him to form an 
acquaintance with her brothers. He had 
even sought out Hiram, in the library, from 
which he utterly refused to descend. 
“ I have no taste for these things,” he said 
to his Uncle, “ even the social gatherings at 
home are irksome to me. I always loved my 
book better than any society. Mother scold¬ 
ed me soundly once, because I told the young¬ 
sters who invited me to a sleigh-ride ‘ I had 
other fish to fry.’ ” 
“ Let him alone,” said Dowlon, “ his pro¬ 
fession will require long years of study, but 
he can gain a knowledge of society in a sin¬ 
gle winter.” 
When the girls had retired to their room, 
after the company had dispersed, Annette 
could scarcely refrain from venting a little of 
her vexation upon Ruth. 
“ I think, Cousin Ruth, you have enjoyed 
yourself to-night— come, acknowledge now 
that you think you have been the belle.” 
“ I don’t know about that,” said Ruth, 
simply, “ but I have been very happy.” 
“ Every one is whom Hector Dowlon tries 
to please. I was conscious of that when I 
asked him to show you attention.” 
“ Then you asked him,” said Ruth, while 
the happy look faded from her face. 
“Yes ; I am so familiar with him, and I 
feared you might get uneasy about your 
hands, and cry, you know. But don’t look so 
distressed, 1 did not ask him to stay by your 
side all night.” 
“ Is he your lover, Annette ?” 
“ No—yes. I don’t know—folks say he is, 
but he has never said so, himself.” 
“ But you love him, cousin?” 
“ I thought I did last night—this mornmg 
I don’t believe I do, eke I should feel more 
distressed at his evident admiration of you.” 
“ You are distressed ; tell me truly if you 
are not.” 
“ Not in the least Ruth. I was vexed, for 
to tell the truth you have outshone us all; 
but just now I am more sleepy than any¬ 
thing,” and Annette was soon dreaming. — 
Ruth thought she should not sleep at all— 
thoughts of the j*arty, of Dowlon and An¬ 
nette, danced more and more confusedly 
through her brain, till at last her waking 
thoughts merged into dreams, and it was 
eleven when she awoke. 
The Hastings spent a happy week. The 
bright bay horses were often in the street, 
Dowlon took Hiram’s place in the sleigh, aEd 
he, Oliver, Annette, and Ruth, had many a 
happy sleigh-ride. These four made up a 
pleasant party, too, at the theater, the con¬ 
cert, or other places of amusement. At the 
end of the week Oliver and Ruth took their 
way home, and resumed the quiet tenor of 
their lives, their visit furnishing them with a 
store of pleasant thoughts for half a year, 
when I will again bring them before the reader. 
(Concluded next week.) 
SiSbeHisetyeiQfs. 
HUDSON RIVER INSTITUTE, 
CL A VERA CK, COLUMBIA CO ., N. Y. 
Rev. IRA C. BOICE, A. M., President. 
W. II. B ANNISTER, A. M., Principal. 
Tins Institute is beautifully situated on the Hudson 
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No Institution in the country has met with the un¬ 
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parts of the land. 
The Winter Term opens January 2d, 1856. 
For rooms, or further information, address oithor the 
President or Principal, Claverack, Col. Co., N. Y. 309 
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Their locality and the low prices at which they can be 
purchased, renders tho lands in the vicinity of Freder¬ 
icksburg, Virginia, the safest and most desirablo invest¬ 
ment in the country. Persons wishing further informa¬ 
tion, will address either personally or by letter, 
FRANKLIN SLAUGHTER, or 
GEO. YV. STOCKING, 
305 Fredericksburg, Virginia. 
