MO^EY RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
|p 0 £ t i t a I ♦ 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
MIDNIGHT. 
BY K. MARCIA ALLEN. 
The silvery moon is looking down 
On tree, and don^e, and spire to-night, 
Shedding o’er earth a glorious crown— 
A holy radiance of light. 
And snowy fields, and ice-bound stream, 
Are smiling ’neath its kinuly beam. 
All hushed and still, the din of toil— 
The busy throng—the hurrying feet— 
Naught, save the lonely watchman’s tread. 
Is heard along the silent street: 
Save where beneath some shadowed pile, 
Dark vice and crime may lurk the while. 
All wrapped in sleep, save they who watch 
With throbbing hearts the couch of pain; 
Or where the student madly robs 
The hours of sleep, Fame’s wreath to gain; 
Or some fond gazer too with me, 
May weave wild dreams of Poesy. 
0, it has power—wild, wondrous power, 
This moon-lit world, so calm and clear 
Sleeping in beauty—is there aught 
But Peace and Joy that slumbers here ? 
So much of holiness is given, 
’Tis less of earth, and more of Heaven. 
Sleep, mortal, sleep! to-morrow comes 
Fraught with its weight of toil and care; 
And then again, the stream of life 
Will course along the thoroughfare. 
I too must toil, when morning beams, 
And then forget my moonlight dreams. 
Rochester, N. Y., Jan. 9, 1S54. 
and sing and conduct himself in so off-hand a 
way. when he never had a farthing in his pock¬ 
et?—for Mi's. Scropc kept poor Frank very 
low in pocket money, though she had a mode¬ 
rate life jointure; and Sam, whose hands were 
always in his pockets turning over his gold, 
which he seldom changed, skulked about, with 
nothing to do and nothing to say, and feeling 
quite ill at ease before his gay, handsome 
brother. ,, 
Among the visitors at Scrope Hall, was a 
Mr. Whitehead, an elderly bachelor of grave 
and taciturn demeanor, reputed to be enor¬ 
mously wealthy, and of privileged eccentricity. 
A miser in the literal sense of the term, sly, 
observant and prying noiselessly into the con¬ 
cerns of everybody and everything, Mr. A nito- 
head visited about, from one house to another, 
living in clover at them all. It was rumored 
that he was not quite sound in his mmd, and 
that an early love disappointment had turned 
his brain; however, those who now coqtem- 
sidered a most extraordinary person, famous 
for doing out-of-the-way things, and not stick¬ 
ing at trifles. I confess T dont quite undei- 
stand the calm, sweet tenor of her polite epis¬ 
tle; and I feel almost as if I stood on the brink 
of some powder magazine, with a lighted can¬ 
dle in my hand. But that must be all my ex¬ 
treme nervousness; because you see, Sam, there 
is nothing to occasion misgiving, and all is fair j 
and above ground. Wc have asked your cou¬ 
sin Flspeth here, as in duty bound—she is com¬ 
ing as a matter of course; and, as a matter ol 
course, you will receive her. _ bet me see’ — 
counting with her fingers—“Flspeth Gordon 
is just twenty—a year younger than you, Sam, 
my dear, and some five months; and Mary 
Scrope that was, has been dead about twenty 
years. Mary was a handsome, spirited girl.” 
Old Whitehead must have been very fond 
of her to make such a will,” broke in Sam, with 
his mouth full and his face very red. “ I’m 
mnthp.r. I’d much rather remain single 
THE COUSINS: 
OR, ME. WHITEHEAD’S WILL. 
When the wealthy, middle-aged bachelor, 
Samuel Scrope, espoused the penniless widow 
Eardley, who had one child of her first niai- 
riage living, a boy of three years old, folks, as 
usual, expressed various opinions on the subject, 
while of course the happy couple, knowing 
nothing and caring less of what was said about 
them, in process ot time shared the common 
fate, and, when gossiping had exhausted it¬ 
self, were allowed to glide down the stream oi 
life unheeded. Mrs. Scrope presented lici se c¬ 
ond husband likewise with a son, the nurse de¬ 
claring that the child and his father were as 
like as two peas. This, perhaps, was not flat- 
terino- to the baby, though the declaration 
might be based on truth—Mr. Scrope being a 
fat', white, flabby looking personage, with hall 
closed eyes, and a clean-shaven face, whereon 
stray hair was never permitted to rest, present¬ 
ing, in short, the semblance, of a huge over¬ 
grown “ flabby dabby babby. 
The likeness between father and son contin¬ 
ued to increase as the latter grew up, and long 
after Mrs. Scrope was left a widow for the sec¬ 
ond time, continued to be pointed out by those 
who had known the deceased. And this like¬ 
ness was not confined to outward appearance; 
for in disposition and character young Samuel 
greatly resembled his father—iu excessive ti¬ 
midity approaching to nervousness; in shy and 
embarrassed manner; in all sorts, of old-vvo- 
manish propensities—such as putting his feet 
into hot water, and talcing basins ol scalding 
g’ruel to cure colds, which, somehow, he was 
always catching; in fidgety neatness, and de¬ 
testation of fire-arms and all offensiv e oi de¬ 
fensive weapons—in these particulars he w as 
indeed, as the neighbors remarked, his father’s 
own son. From his mother he inheiited a lo\ c 
of money, of parsimonious sav ing and hoaid- 
ixi<y; a tolerable share of suspiciousness, anil a 
large amount of prudence, a cold and unim¬ 
passioned temperament, calculating even his in¬ 
dulgences, and a rather obtuse brain, were 
singularly combined, and what he vv anted in 
sense, he made up in deliberation and wariness. 
Such’was Samuel Scrope the younger, the heir 
to his father’s large fortune, the idol of Ins 
doting mother, and the pampered, spoiled boy 
of the household. She never could part with 
him for the purpose of education; he was too 
delicate for any school—it would kill Sam to 
be buffeted and rudely treated! . So Sam had 
a tutor at home, whose situation was a real 
sinecure, so far as teaching .went the young 
gentleman having it much his own way when 
and how his lessons were to lie acquired and 
repeated. 
Mrs. Scrope, like many weak mothers, cared 
not much for her son s acquirements, except 
those which barely sufficed as a passport thro’ 
society in general. "What did it matter, she 
said, for Samuel to toil and moil ov er books, 
when he had a large fortune ready made to 
enjoy? It was all right and proper that her 
eldest born, Francis Eardley, should strive to 
win prizes and be a great scholar, because he 
had only his own exertions to depend upon; 
besides, Frank was high spirited and boister¬ 
ous, had fine health and energies, and was alto¬ 
gether of a different nature from Sam. Of a 
different nature, indeed!—brave, generous, self- 
denving, affectionate, and warm-heaited bran- 
cis/as little resembled his younger brother in 
passage in such a life and in such a being. 
Mammon was the god of his worship now, at ; 
all events. Mr. "Whitehead had been a crony I 
of the deceased Mr. Scrope, and it was appa- j 
rent that he transferred to the younger Samuel j 
much of the approval and liking he had be¬ 
stowed on the elder. At Scrope Hall, Air. 
Whitehead was always a welcome and favored 
guest; his ways were in unison with their ways; 
and Samuel was so great a favorite with the 
sour-visaged old man, that Airs. Sciopc in- 
| dulged pleasant dreams of an accession to her 
darling’s fortune. As to U rank, lie liad be- 
come Air. Whitehead’s abomination, for Frank 
would neither bend, nor fawn, nor flutter 
There was another dwelling to which Air. j 
Whitehead had access, and whose inmates j 
were of a very different character from those ■ 
of Scrope Hall, and yet, strange to say, these ! 
two domicils were the old bachelor s favorite 
resting places, and he resorted from one to the 
other, with infinite satisfaction. Many . miles . 
of hill and dale, rivers and woodland divided : 
the hostile houses, and Aliss Pamela Gordon 
Lad not seen Airs. Scrope face to face since the 
widowhood of the latter; but unspoken ani- j 
mosity existed between the ladies; and Mis. i 
Scrope called Miss Pamela “ a masculine -spin-, 
gter!”—while Aliss Pamela 'denominated Airs, j 
Scrope “a shrew!” Air. Whitehead heaid j 
what each said of the other, laughed in his ; 
sleeve, and enjoyed the good things at both 1 
houses. Perhaps, unconfessed by himself, the j 
childless and lonely man found attraction at 
Miss Pamela’s pleasant home., which he v ainly 
sought for elsewhere; for Aliss Pamela had a , 
young niece residing with her, whose laughing 
dark eyes brought memories to the old mans i 
heart he vainly essayed to dispel; and Flspeth , 
Gordon became to Mr. AVhitchead a sort oi j 
loadstone, whose attraction it was not possible 
to resist. Yet who played such pranks with . 
the cross old miser as little Ellie? AY ho ca-j 
joled him out of a silver crown so.easily, for j 
the purpose of charity? A\ ho said aud did 
such impudent and yet such tender and charm-; 
iusr things as Filic Gordon, the orphan niece 
of"the strong minded Aliss Pamela. 
Aliss Pamela was the half sister of Elspeth’s ; 
father, who had married the only sister of Mr. j 
Scrope, to that gentleman’s lasting and inexo- j 
rable displeasure. Captain Gordon died soon 
tiresome. . „ 
“ How do you know girls arc tiresome, bam. 1 
asked his mother, sharply. 
“Why, mother,” responded Sam, looking 
rather sheepish, “ I’ve heard you say so scores 
of times.” 
« Well, well, my dear, never mmd, respond¬ 
ed Airs. Scrope, soothingly. “ I dare to say 
Flspeth Gordon is a discreet maiden, though 
Mr. Whitehead spoke of her as being a gay, 
laughing lass; and, to do her justice, Aliss Pa¬ 
mela is a clever woman, and lias brought up 
the young miss well, no doubt, and trained lici 
to obedience and respect of lier elders. I’ll be 
bound she’ll come here all blushes and tremors 
at her own rare good luck;” and All’s. Scrope 
paused, as a kind of jealous pang shot through 
her maternal heart. Sam remained silent, his 
white flabby face and half-closed eyes affording 
no index as to the nature of his ruminations. 
Unaccustomed to the society of strangers, it 
may be supposed that Airs. Scrope and Sam 
felt a little nervous at the expected visit of a 
well-bred young lady, placed in such extremely 
delicate and peculiar circumstances towards 
themselves, as Flspeth Gordon was. All. 
Whitehead had departed to another world, af¬ 
ter a few days’ illness, soon after his visit to 
Miss Pamela Gordon; bequeathing the whole 
of his large fortune, without any deduction 
whatever, to Sam’l Scrope, of Scrope Hall, on 
condition of the said Sam’l Scrope marrying 
Flspeth Gordon, daughter of the late Captain 
Gordon, and Mary, liis wife; the said marriage 
to take place within twelve months after the 
testator’s decease. In the event of the said 
and musical modulation. Turning suddenly 
round towards Sam, who had retreated to the 
further end of the room, the owner of the green 
specs, regarding him fixedly for a few moments, 
advanced with extended hand, saying: “ We 
won’t wait for a formal introduction, Cousin 
Samuel, will wc? Come, don’t be shy; shake 
hands and be friends. Now Juno, now Poto 
_here, let me introduce you to your new 
master.’' 
But poor Sam was desperately afraid of large 
do< T s; and he looked so scared and miserable, 
that the gay lady indulged in an immoderate 
fit of laughter, which she vainly endeavored to 
control. Recovering herself with difficulty, 
she said with much suavity and gentleness: 
“You’ll get used to them in time, Cousin Sam; 
I cannot live without them!” 
« And how did you come, my dear? said 
Mrs. Scrope, willing to get away from the sub¬ 
ject. “ Sam and I were listening for the sound 
of carriage wheels on the avenue, but we heard 
none.” . , _ 
“ Carriage wheels, indeed! cried Elbe Gor¬ 
don contemptuously, and flourishing her whip ; 
“ as if I come to see my intended in so stupid 
fashion. Not I, indeed. I rode over on 
Vixen, my beautiful marc, with Lorn at my 
heels, and Juno and Peto for company.” With 
uplifted hands and eyes, Mrs. Scrope repeated 
the words:—“Rode over on A ixen. AN hy,^i 
is a good eighty mile from hence to Aliss a- 
mela’ 
,S 
GO 
“Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt 
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.” 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS NO. 6. 
DEDICATED TO CALIFORNIANS. 
la’s and you rode over on horseback! 
“ To be sure! what of that? Forty miles a 
day; and slept last night at the Ellistons’. Bob 
and J ames Flliston rode part ol the vv ay vv it 1 
me to-day, but I didn’t want them, even tino 
Hanging AVood; for look here, ma’am, I never 
travel without these; you aud I will have a 
practice, Sam;” and, so saying, the young lady 
drew forth from a concealed pocket, a pair oi 
small, elegantly finished pistols, pointing one m 
Sam’s face. He recoiled, saying, in a scarcely 
audible voice:—“ I hope, Aliss, they re not 
loaded?” . 
“AVliy, Sam, what would be the use ot pis¬ 
tols if they were not loaded?” replied she, 
smiling, and adding, in an under tone, “ except 
to frighten fools with.” 
“ I think, my dear,” said Airs. Scropc, coming 
between the pair, and gently, turning aside the 
hand which graced the offensive weapon, that 
you had better lay them aside now, with your 
traveling dress; there are no robbers or ruffians 
here to molest you.” 
“Thank you, ma’am—thank you, quick!} 
replied Elbe, “I prefer wearing my habit; and 
if you’ve no objection, I’ll return these pretty 
! dears to my pocket,” replacing the pistols; 
i “It’s all use vou know—all use.” 
Answer in two weeks. 
Wf. will forward the Rural three months, tree 
of charge, to each of the first four persons (1 esid 
ing out of the city) who send correct answers 
to the above Rebus previous to the publication 
of the solution. 
[Written for the Rural New-Yorker.] 
POETICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of IA letters. 
Aly 3, 9, 6, 8 is something that grows. 
My 1, 2, 4, 4 is similar to grass. 
My 1, 12, 11, 15 is the name of a lass. 
My 13, 8, 12, 3 is a kind of fruit. 
My 14, 9, IF 6, 8 is the name of a brute. 
Aly 14, 9, 8 is the name of a tool. 
Aly whole is a book much used in school. 
Castile, N. Y., 1854. 
Airs. Scrope, roused to something like self- 
testator’s decease in the event oi me sam j po 2J s i 0 u, now replied with dignity, “It is un- 
Samuel Scrope refusing to ratify the^said^con- j for a youn J la( jy to carry fire-arms, and 
to wear a riding dress in a drawing-room. Has 
dition, and rejecting the lady, he forfeited the 
fortune, which then became Flspeth Gordon’s. 
But if the lady rejected the gentleman, why, 
then, of course, vice versa. Moreover, Mr. 
Whitehead had provided for every contingen¬ 
cy. If the couple by mutual consent, refused 
to fulfill the stipulated conditions, the many 
scores of thousands went to enrich various 
charities, almost unheard of by the most phi¬ 
lanthropic. 4 . „ . 
As to Flspeth Gordon refusing Sam, that 
was a thing Air. Whitehead never dreamed ol; 
a penniless girl like the daughter of his lost 
Alary to cast fortune away—nay, two fortunes 
_, W as unheard of in the annals oi romantic fol- 
lv. So he secured her, as he considered 
after his ill-fated marriage, leaving liis broken- excellent husband and a luxurious home. Then 
, the j dea 0 f g amue l Scrope, prudent and mon¬ 
ey-loving as he was known to be, refusing a 
pretty girl and a still prettier douceur, toi any 
whim sort of insanity, was far too wild and im¬ 
probable a conjecture to gain footing in Mr. 
Aliss Pamela Gordon countenanced such pro¬ 
ceedings-” 
[CONCLUDED onstage 25, THIS number.] 
Slit ant) fmiior, 
WONDERFUL BIRD. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus Is o. 4. A. man 
liquidating an account passed a counterfeit bill. 
Answer to Philosophical Enigma.— Fogs arc 
produced by watery vapor coming in contact with 
air colder than itself 
hearted wife and infant daughter ill provided 
for. Airs. Gordon, at length, in deep v distress, 
appealed to her brother’s widow for assistance, 
but Airs. Scrope turned a deaf ear to her re¬ 
quest; she had Samuel to take care ol, and , lu „ au ,v ,, 
Francis to educate and provide for. The dy -1 yyjiitehead’s calculations. "Sam, unimpassioned 
ing woman then turned towards her sister-m- ; aQ( j CQ j ( | as p c waa> would hardly reject a fine, 
law, Miss Pamela, as a last resource, for help : 
in her extremity. Aliss Pamela was considered [ 
a person not to be imposed upon, and by no ; 
means soft-hearted. She lived on a handsome j 
life annuity, a fact she took care to render j 
public, “ as it was better folks should all know, j 
she said. “ that she had nothing to bequeath in j 
her will, and lived up to her income.” Aliss j 
Pamela aud her half brother had never been ; 
verv good friends; they had squabbled and 
differed on every possible and impossible topic; | 
moreover, Miss Pamela had strongly set her ; 
face against his alliance with Mary Scrope, and 
she was in the secret of Mr. Whiteheads ro-. 
mantic devotion to that lady, who, however, i 
preferred the insinuating captain. 
Notwithstanding these bygone reminiscences j 
when poor Airs. Gordon meekly entreated a 
small sum to extricate her from pressing diffi- 
lively, good-tempered young creature, marrying 
whom he would insure to himself the posses¬ 
sion of nearly £40,000. 
Flspeth Gordon had received an invitation 
to Scrope Hall, for the purpose of being in¬ 
troduced to her cousin; and Aliss Pamela, to 
Airs. Scrope’s astonishment, had herself w 
ten to accept it in Elbe’s name, at the same 
time wishing good speed to the wooing. 
The eventful day arrived; Sam had thrown 
aside his flannel wraps, and arrayed in a bright 
new coat, with well oiled hair, was surveyed 
by his admiring mother with looks of unmiti¬ 
gated admiration. 
“O mother,” he said, “I am all in a fluster. 
I don’t know what to say to her.” 
“ I dare to say she is in more of a fluster 
than you, Sam, my dear; so let that comfort 
She won’t meet your eyes, depend upon 
The subjoined incident is sent to us by a 
Southern correspondent, as related by a V ir- 
ginia negro. If it is true, the parrot was cer 
tainly a remarkable bird: 
“ Yon see,” said he, “ dis parrot belonged to 
a baker in Richmond. Novv, each bakers, ’lowed 
to make a certain number of loaves ebery day, 
and no more, ‘cordin to how many customcis 
lie got; ’cause if dey bake too much, dey vv ill 
be servin’ out stale bread to de customers.— 
Well, dis baker had baked more’n his share one 
day, and hid de rest ob ’uni under de counter. 
l)e parrot was bangin’ in his cage, and see it 
all. Bime-by, in comes de inspector, and finds 
de'bread all right, and is goin out again satis- 
... , fied, when de parrot cocks his eye at him, and 
, to I sings out, I)ere s more bread under de counter! 
vrit-1 Solle inspector grabs it, ’cordin’ to law, and 
carries it off. Well, den de baker goes to de 
parrot, werry mad, and takes him by de head 
and fetches him a twitch or two, and flings him 
into dc butter for dead, ’longside of a pig just 
dead of de measles. Bime-by, be parrot be r 
o-ins to crawl about, his feathers a stickin out, 
and his head lopped on one side, and den he 
stoops and looks at de pig, wery pitiful, and 
says he, 1 did you say any ling about de 
bread?' ” 
uolty, the good spinster, burying all _the past in y ou ’ alwa ys hy suc h trying occa- 
oblivion, set herself earnestly to the task of | £yrls arc ^ j ) 
comforting and supporting the widow and the 
So endeavoring to rally her son s spirits, and 
ly begun to hint very strongly about the valu¬ 
able qualities of Mr. Samuel, and the good-tor- j 
nothing character of his hall brother a pio- j 
ceeding which always set Aliss Pamela in a , 
blaze of indignation, while her appeals to Ellie j 
brought a corresponding color into that young 
lady’s cheeks. 
“ I wonder what that old miser has taken In 
his head now?,, thought Miss Pamela, as on 
one occasion of the kind she watched his re¬ 
treating figure; “he looks wonderfully 7 bent and 
withered oflate; he cannot last much longer, 
disposition as in person, for that was pre-emi- j I hope he’ll leave a legacy to poor Fllie, lor 
I- 1 1 O-1__.4 Y rtrJr/’i A llP Wfi.Q VP.T’V 1011(1 Oi 
Willie’s father is a clergyman, and “ tern 
perate in all things;” so Willie had never seen 
a man chewing the “vile weed” until he was 
about three years old, when Mr. ——, holdm 
his little son by his dimpled hand, stood in the 
street for a moment, to speak to an acquaint¬ 
ance. fWillie was all eyes, as he could not 
„ , ... , comprehend the conversation: and, seeing the 
arrival of their guest. The crack of the riding J heavily bearded individual occasionally put a 
of “fine-cut” into his mouth,wasconsid- 
he 
nently graceful and agreeable, Sant s cow ar d 
ice and sluggish intellect presented such a con¬ 
trast to the bold, daring and splendid abilities 
of Frank, that even Airs. Scrope could not fail 
to see it, despite her partiality for the former, 
though why that partiality existed, it was hard 
to fathom, unless it arose from Sam’s more 
closely resembling herself. 
Prank was sent to a public school, and was 
a favorite with every one, making friends 
wherever he went; but at home, the home 
where his younger brother reigned paramount, 
there grave faces always met him, there he was 
chided and rebuked by his mother, and avoided 
by the fat, pampered Sam, who looked askance 
on the fine youth, whose noble and maifiy bear¬ 
ing roused feelings of envy and dislike. What 
rio-ht had Frank to laugh and joke, aud ride 
her mother’s sake. Ah, he was very fond of 
Mary Scrope. "Who ever would believe such 
a being as he appears now, could ever have 
played the fool, and raved when she married 
poor Ned! Ellie is very like her mother, lull of 
life and animation. Bless her, shes a good, 
dear girl; I don t know what. I should do with¬ 
out her. She’s a clever-spirited puss, too, and 
after my own heart.” _ 
Some months subsequent to this period, Airs. 
Scrope and her youngest son sat sipping their 
breakfast coffee, and munching hot rolls, Sam’s 
head being swaddled in flannel for the rheuma¬ 
tism, when the former, after a pause, pursued 
the tenor of their conversation, by saying in a 
half-hesitating tone: “ Alter all, Sam, my dear, 
it’s as nice a letter as one could expect fiom 
Aliss Pamela Gordon; she has always been con- 
whipwas heard in the hall, the door of the 
apartment was flung open, and a lady r attired 
in a riding costume, rapidly entered, exclaiming, 
“ Down, Juno! down, Peto!” as two huge dogs 
leaped about her, creating confusion and dis¬ 
may in all the beholders, for if Airs. Scrope and 
Sam hated one thing more than another, it was 
a dog. . . , t , 
With dismay aud surprise painted on her 
countenance, Mrs. Scrope, turning to the do¬ 
mestics, said, in a hasty tone: “Turn thorn 
out! turn out these troublesome creatures un- ( 
mediately!” Uut Miss Blspeth Gordon -foi it 
was she—peremptorily exclaimed: “ I should ; 
strongly advise nobody to meddle with my i, 
dogs; they arc savage and will bite strangers j 
unless left alone, and never obey any one ex¬ 
cept me and Mom.” Shrinking from contact 
with the unruly animals, aud in the utmost con¬ 
sternation, Mrs. Scrope surveyed her young 
visiter. A tall, finely formed, though slender 
figure, was set off by a tightly fitting habit; 
while a pair of green spectacles, of antiquated 
make, aided by a slouching hat, concealed the 
upper portion of the strangers lace. J he 
mouth, however, displayed a set ot dazzling 
white teeth, although the ’voice proceeding 
from that mouth uttered wonderful things for 
a timid young lady, but with a remarkably sott 
pinch of “ fine-cut . 
erably puzzled and astonished. At last 
could stand it no longer. “ IV .aid he, anx¬ 
iously, “ does that man chew hair so as to make 
it grow out over his face?”— Knickerbocker. 
UNIVERSITY OE ALE ANY. 
Department op Chemistry.—E. S. Carr, M. D., pro¬ 
fessor of Chemistry ami its applications to Agriculture ana 
the Useful Arts. . , 
F K Dakin Instructor in Analytical Chemistry. 
This Department of the University, having been perma- 
ently established, a spacious Laboratory "' lU 
for the reception of Students, on Tuesday, the 10th day of 
January inst. There will he a Course of Instruction m 
Practical and Analytical Chemistry, and a Course of lec¬ 
tures bv Prof. CaRR, on the applications of Chemistry to 
Agriculture and the Manufacturing Arts, continuing during 
a term of three months. The Laboratory will bo open 
from 9 A. m. to 4 p. m. . A .»« 
The Lectures will be delivered in the evening, and will 
b °For e Lalioration" Instruction, $20 per term, or $10 per 
month, for a shorter period. Students will be charged with 
breakage and the Chemicals they consume. Students will 
also have access to the State Agricultural and Geological 
^Analysis of Soils, Ores, Mineral Waters, &c, made on 
reasonable terms. , . 
Address Prof. E. S. Carr, at Albany, or either of the fol 
lowing gentlemenLuther Tucker, office Albany Cultn a 
tor; Hon. 11. P. Johnson, State Agricultural Rooms Dr. 
j. H. Armsby, 669 Broadway. " ' 
PERUVIAN GUANO. 
Wf. are receiving our supply of Peruvian Guano, per 
ships Blanchard, Senator, and Gray F eather from the Chin- 
cha Islands, and are now prepared to make contracts fo 
the spring supply. As the demand is large, we Mould ad¬ 
vise 111 who maybe in want of this valuable manure to 
make early application. Price, $48 per ton of 2.00U lbs.— 
Bo particular to observe that every bag is branded 
No. 1. 
WARRANTED PERUVIAN 
G U A N 0 . 
IMPORTED INTO THE UNITED STATES BY 
F. BARREDA BROTHERS, 
FOR THE PERUVIAN GOVERNMENT. 
LONGETT & ORIF FlisG, 
State Agricultural Warehouse, 25 Cliff st-,N.Y. 
January 2, 1854. [20J-21J 
Good— The following, which is clipped from 
exchange, only goefo prove tha,-« some 
things can be done as well as others.. 
When lovely woman veils her bosom 
With muslin fashionably tlnn, 
W hat man with eyes, could u er refuse om. 
Cautiously, from peering in t 
And when his ardent gaze returning. 
The muslin heaves to deep d™wn 
Would not his fingers’ ends bo burning 
To press —hit hal dmen o'er his eyes 7 
. ■a -.jO'Mpr 
“ Will you take the life of Pierce or Scott 
this morning, madam?” said a newsboy to our 
good aunt Betsy. “No, my lad,” she replied 
“ they may live to the end of their days for all 
me —I’ve nothin agin’ ’em.” 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Subscription—$2 a year— $1 for six months. To 
Clubs and Agents as followsThree Copies one year, for 
$5; Six Copies (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) 
for 810; Ton Copies (aud one to Agent,) for $lo; Twenty 
Copies for $25, and any additional number, directed to 
individuals at the same rate. SLx months subscriptions iu 
proportion. 
Subscription money, properly enclosed, may be sent 
byraail at the risk of the Publisher. 
Advertising.— Brief and appropriate advertisements 
will be inserted at SI,50 per square, (ton lines, or 100 
words,) or 15 cents per lino — in advance. The circulation 
if tlu Rural New-Yorker is several thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or similar journal in 
America. Patent medicines, &c., will not be advertised in 
thin paper on any terms. 
All communications, and business letters, should 
lie addressed to D. D. T. Moore, Rochester, N. Y. 
The man who attempted to look into the 
future, had the door slammed in his face. 
“ Wood is the thing, after all,” as the man 
with an oak leg said when the dog bit it 
The Wool Grower and Stock Register >s the only 
American journal devoted to the Wool and Stock Grow¬ 
ing Interests. It contains a vast amount of useful and 
reliable information not given in any other work, and 
should be in the hands of Every Oicner of Domestic Ani¬ 
mals, whether located East or West, North or South.— 
Published monthly in octavo form, illustrated, at Only 
Fifty Cents a Year —5 copies for $2; 8 for $3. Vol. 5 
commenced July, 1853. Subscriptions can begin with the 
July or January number. Back volumes furnished. 
Address D. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
Non-Subscribers into whose hands this number of the 
Rural may fall, are requested to give it an examination, 
and, if approved, their support. See prospectus, Premium 
List, &c., on preceding pago. 
