MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AM AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
ffttitaL 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
TIME IS MONEY. 
BY WILLIE WAT SOX. 
Time is money, says the traveler, 
Lot me not a moment stay; 
I shall surely lose my passage 
If an instant I delay. 
Then again I must lie over, 
Pay new hills, and lose a day; 
Then I lose both time and money, 
Surely, I must haste away. 
Time is money, says the farmer; 
If I want a crop of grain, 
I must sow my seed in season, 
Or my toil will be in vain. 
Time is money, says his neighbor. 
As he lists the thunder roar; 
Let us save the well dried clover, 
Ere 'tis ruined by the shower. 
Time is money, says the student, 
As he nears commencement day ; 
_ If I lose another hour, 
I shall fail in my essay. 
Failing to receive promotion, 
I another term must stay; 
Health, and strength, and money wasted, 
I can ill afford delay. 
Time is money, says the merchant, 
Not a moment can I spare; 
I must hasten or I lose it, 
Sales like that are very rare. 
I may save a full month’s profits 
If this bargain 1 secure; 
I must make a speedy effort, 
Time is money, that is sure. 
Timo is even more than money; 
Money lost may bo regained, 
And with proper care and prudence. 
For a space may be retained. 
But our time is evanescent, 
Making for us no delay; 
And may never bo recovered, 
If it be once thrown away. 
mnl ‘JumIl 
[AVritten for tho Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF I.IFE. 
AS INCIDENT OF THE NORWALK TRAGEDY. 
“ Ybt this is life! No mark from day to day; 
Youth in the freshness of its morning prime, 
Passes like the anthem of a breeze away, 
Sinking in waves of Death, e’er chilled by time,’ 
E’er yet dark years on the warm cheek had shed 
Autumnal mildew o’er its rose-like red I” 
On a pleasant May morning, far away from 
friends and home, with a heart light and joy¬ 
ous, at the prospect of soon mingling with 
those whose affection and kindness had won 
his gratitude and love, might have been seen 
a young, beautiful, and manly form. Long 
had he reveled among the beauties of Nature; 
studied her mysteries, admired her charms, and 
wondered at her magnificence. He had seen 
the towering grandeur of her mountains, the 
gloomy pomp of her wild-wood, the velvet 
robes of her vallies, the clear and glassy ex¬ 
panse of her lakes, and the beauty of her riv¬ 
ers. He had listened with awe to the thunder 
of her cataracts, and the moan of her ocean 
waves. Art had beckoned him to her choicest 
scats—pleasure, to her festive board, and pas¬ 
sion to her gayest halls. Wealth had won for 
him regard; talent, admiration; and beauty, love. 
But amid all the varied pleasures he had en¬ 
joyed, the curiosities he had admired, the 
changes he had seen, and the regards he had 
won, he could not forget the home of his child¬ 
hood, among the rough, rugged “hills of New 
England.” He could not forget the thousand 
recollections that clustered round that rude, 
but hallowed spot He could not forget that 
brother’s affection, nor that sister’s tenderness 
and love; and less than all, could he forget the 
kindness and solicitude of that father, or that 
mother’s fondness and caress. Oh! he remem¬ 
bered a father’s prayer for his safety and re¬ 
turn; and a mother’s farewell tear at his de¬ 
parture! All these rushed with electric speed 
upon his mind, and his bosom burned again to 
mingle in those happy scenes. 
I sec him in the busy haunts of the crowd¬ 
ed metropolis, wending his way toward the 
railroad station, with heart elate and beaming 
eye. Every step seems lighter, and every look 
brightens with joy, at the thought of loved 
one’s far away. With the shriek of the steam- 
whistle, the rumbling wheels, and the heavy 
tramp of the engine, that gay and jovial throng 
dart through vallies clad in robes of green, 
through forests fanned by vernal breezes, and 
over landscapes whose velvet carpets sparkled 
with May-dew. All! all! how joyful and gay. 
Yet with him gayety and mirth seemed nought 
but thoughtlessness and folly. Memory and 
affection were still true to their trust, and he 
thought of the happy hearts awaiting to greet 
him. He saw a mother’s smile, and heard a 
father’s welcome. And, as if endeavoring to 
anticipate their greetings and reciprocate their 
affection, he enters in his memorandum, vvith 
true-hearted simplicity, the following record of 
his devotion, and the testimony of his filial love: 
“ Friday morning, now for home; Dear 
Father —Dear Mother /” 
Home! how the sound of that sweet word 
flashed its hallowed memories o’er-his mind— 
He could see in the distance a faint outline of 
the blue hills over whose cragged slopes ha had* 
spent the sunny days of childhood. He is al¬ 
most there. A tear of joy dims his eye as he 
repeats those fond words —“Dear Father, 
Dear Mother!" How often he lias breathed 
them forth in the devotion of his soul, while 
faraway. Ah! how hope lightens his heart, 
as the fufure rises and unfolds itself to his view. 
He looks out upon the verdant landscape of 
his own beautiful Connecticut, with its bosom 
of glass, and margin of green. Liltle did he 
think that those waters which were among his 
native mountains, and rippled by liis native 
heath, would proA r e to him the river of death! 
But alas! it is too true! The fatal plunge is 
given, and all his brightenisg hopes are shroud¬ 
ed with the pall of death— 
“ Ere sorrow’s rude gale had breathed o’er his soul, 
Snapped was life’s frail cord, and broken the bowl.” ’ 
How sad the commentary upon life. How 
delusive human hope. How mournful the 
wreck of youth, of beauty, and of happiness.— 
Young K—-— is no more! No more as an 
hour since—the pride of a kind and affection¬ 
ate father, or the hope of a fond and loving 
mother. No more the associate of those who 
had learned to love him for his virtues, and 
court him for his worth. No more will he in¬ 
dulge ii^ those bright and flattering hopes with 
which 'fortune had tempted him. Sad and 
mournful are the hearts which death has smit¬ 
ten. Long will those gloomy and disconsolate 
parents shed tears of unavailing grief, over the 
grave of a fond and dutiful son. But he has 
bequeathed to them a rich, a priceless legacy.'* 
“Dear Father—Dear Mother!” How simple 
and touching the last tribute of tenderness and 
affection. When shall that inscription be ef¬ 
faced from that Father’s heart, or those tender 
accents cease to echo on that mother’s ear?— 
Let that epitaph be enchased on the marble 
which marks his earthly pillow. Let it teach 
mankind the frailty of human hopes, and the 
vanity of earthly ambition. Though the hand 
that inscribed it be cold, and the heart that 
prompted it be still; yet it spans the tomb with 
a boAv of promise and lights its darkness with 
the touch of Hope. Tis thus with man— 
“He cometh like the flower, 
To feel the changes of each earthly hour.” 
The tender flower has been gathered to dust, 
it will bloom on earth no more. 
Soon nature shall garland that place of rest, 
Where the cold clod lies on its slumbering guest; 
Soon the soft breeze of summer shall chaunt through the 
gloom 
Of the cypress, which shadows his early tomb; 
But memory’s page no shadow shall mar, 
AVhile that spirit pure, as some new-risen star 
Shall beam in the home of the angels on high. 
Where sorrows ne’er darken the cloudless sky; 
While that spirit-voice shall echo above, 
AA’liere the rainbow of Hope is melted in Love. 
THE FIGHTING PREACHER 
WESTERN ITINERANTS FORTY YEARS AGO. 
Tiie western itinerants, (who Avere the legion 
fulminea of the American ministry of their 
day,) were usually brawny, athletic men, phys¬ 
ically if not mentally educated almost to per¬ 
fection. They had occasion sometimes to 
preach to their rude hearers with their stout 
lists, as well as their stentorian lungs. “ At a 
camp meeting,” says Mr. Finley, “ a row was 
raised on Saturday by some twenty lewd fel¬ 
lows of the baser sort, who came upon the 
ground intoxicated, and had vowed they would 
break up the meeting. One of the preachers 
went to the leader for the purpose of getting 
him to leave; but this only enraged him, and 
he struck the preacher a violent blow on the 
face and knocked him down. Here the conflict 
began. The members saw that they must 
either defend themselves or allow the ruffians 
to beat them and insult their wives and daugh¬ 
ters. It did not take long to decide. They 
very soon placed themselves in an attitude for 
defence. Brother Birkhammer, an exceeding¬ 
ly stout man, seized their bully leader who had 
struck the preacher, and with one thrust of his 
brawny arm crushed him down between two 
benches. The aid-de-camp of the bully ran to 
his relief, but it was to meet the same fate; for 
no sooner did he come within reach of the 
Methodist, than with crushing force he felt 
himself ground on the back of his comrade in 
distress. Here they were held in durance vile 
till the sheriff and his posse came and took 
possession, and binding them with ten others, 
they were carried before a justice, avIio fined 
them heavily for their misdemeanor. As soon 
as quiet was restored, Bishop Ashbury occu¬ 
pied the pulpit After singing and prayer, he 
rose and said he would give the rowdys some 
advice: ‘You must remember that all our 
brothers in the church are not yet sanctified, 
and I advise you to let them alone; for if you 
get them angry, and the devil should get in 
them, they are the strongest and hardest men 
to fight in the world. 1 advise you, if you do 
not like them, to go home and let them alone.’ 
In speaking of one of his brother itinerants 
—one to whom it is owing ‘ that Methodism is 
now the prevailing religionin Illinois” — he 
says: 
At the camp meeting held at Alton in the 
autumn of 1833, the worshippers were annoyed 
by a set of desperadoes from 8t Iiouis, under 
the control of Mike Fink, a notorious bully, the 
triumphant hero of countless fights, in none of 
which he had ever met an equal or even sec¬ 
ond. The coarse, drunken ruffians carried it 
with a high hand, outraged the men* and in¬ 
sulted the women, so as to threaten the disso¬ 
lution of all pious exercises; and yet, such was 
the terror the name of their leader, Fink, in¬ 
spired, that no one individual could be found 
brave enough to face his prowess. At last 
one day, when Mr.-ascended the pulpit to 
hold forth, the desperadoes, on the outskirts of 
the encampment, raised a yell so deafening as 
to drown utterly every other sound. Mr. 
-’s dark eyes shot lightning; he deposited 
his bible, drew off his coat and remarked aloud: 
“Wait a few minutes, my brethren, while I 
go and make the devil pray.” 
He then proceeded, with a smile on his lips, 
t.o the focus of the tumult, and addressed the 
chief bully: 
“ Mr.-Fink, I have come to make you pray.” 
“By golly, I’d like to see you do it, old 
snorter.” 
“Very well,” said Mr.-, “ will these gen¬ 
tlemen, your courteous Lends, agree not to 
show foul play?” 
“ In course they will. They’re rale grit and 
won’t do nothin’ but the clear thing, so they 
won’t,” rejoined Fink, indignantly. 
“ Are you ready ?” asked Mr.-. 
“ Ileady as a race horse Avith a light rider,” 
squaring his ponderous person for the combat 
But the bully spoke too soon; for scarcely 
had the Avords left his lips, when Mr. -- 
made a prodigious bound tOAvard his antago¬ 
nist, and accompanied it Avith a quick, shoot¬ 
ing punch of his herculean fist, Avhich fell, 
crashing the other’s chin, and hurried him to 
the earth like lead. Then even his intoxicated 
comrades, filled with involuntary admiration at 
the feat But Fink ay as up in a moment, and 
rushed upon his enemy, exclaiming— 
“ That wasn’t done fair, so it warn’t” 
He aimed a ferocious stroke, which Mr.- 
parried with his left baud, and grasping his 
throat with his right, crushed him down as if 
he had been an infant Fink struggled, squirm¬ 
ed, and Avrithed in the dust; but all to no pur¬ 
pose; for the strong muscular fingers held his 
windpipe as in the jaws of an iron vice. When 
he began to turn purple in the face, and ceased 
to resist, Mr. - slackened his hold and in- j 
quired : 
“ Will you pray now?” 
“ I doesn’t know a word how,” gasped Fink. 
“ Repeat after me,” commanded Mr.-. 
“Well, if I must, I must,” answered Fink; 
“because’you’re the devil himself.” 
The preacher then said over the Lord’s 
prayer line by line, and the conquered bully 
responded in the same way, when the victor 
permitted him to rise. At the consummation, 
the rowdies roared three boisterous cheers.— 
Fink shook Mr.-’s hand declaring: • 
“ By golly, you’re some beans in a bar-fight 
I’d rather set-to with an old ho bar in dog 
days. You can pass this ’ere crowd of nose- 
smashers, blast your picter.” 
Afterwards Fink’s party beha\-ed with ex¬ 
treme decorum, and Mr.-resumed his bible 
and pulpit 
A thousand other incidents, equally material 
and ludicrous, are related as to Mr.-’s ad¬ 
ventures in Kentucky and Illinois. Many of 
them are probably fictitious; but those genuine 
alone, if collected, would be sufficient to stock 
at least two volumes of romantic reality.— JVa- 
lional Magazine. 
THE LOVE OF HOME. 
It is only shallow-minded pretenders who 
either make distinguished origin a matter of 
personal matter or personal merit, or obscure ! 
origin a matter of personal reproach. Taunts j 
and scoffing at the humble condition of early 
life, affect nobody in America but those who 
are foolish enough to indulge in them, and they 
are sufficiently punished by the public rebuke. 
A man Avho is not ashamed of himself need not j 
be ashamed of his early condition. I did not j 
happen to be born in a log-cabin, but my elder j 
brothers and sisters were born in a log-cabin, 
raised among the snow drifts of New Hamp¬ 
shire, at a period so early that when the smoke 
first rose from its rude chimney, and curled 
OA’er the frozen hill, there was no similar evi¬ 
dence of a white man’s habitation between it 
and the settlement on the rivers of Canada.— 
Its remains still exist; I make it an annual visit; 
I carry my children to it, to teach them the 
hardships endured by the generations which 
have gone before them. 1 love to dwell on 
the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the 
early affections, and the narrations and inci¬ 
dents which mingle with all 1 know of this 
primitive family abode. I weep to think that 
none of those who inhabited it are among the 
living; and if I ever fail in affectionate venera¬ 
tion of him who raised it, and defended it 
against savages and destruction, cherished all 
domestic comforts beneath its roof, and through 
fire and blood of seven year’s revolutionary 
war shrunk from no toil, no sacrifice, to serve 
his country, and to raise his children to a con¬ 
dition better than his own, may my name, and 
the name of my posterity be blotted forever 
from the memory of mankind.— Dan. Webster. 
COURAGE OF A LAPLAND GIRL. 
The skill of the nomade people of Lapland 
in throwing the lasso avails them, at times, in 
making captives of other animals besides their 
own deer. “ On one occasion,” so said a cler¬ 
gyman whom Mr. Lloyd met with in Norrland, 
and avIio vouched for the truth of the story, 
“ when a Lapp, in company with a young fe¬ 
male, was driving the herd through the forest, 
they accidentally roused a large bear from his 
winter quarters. The girl, very fortunately, 
had the iaaso in her hand, which, with great 
coolness and skill, she threw over his head, as 
he was slowly quitting his den, and at the same 
instant coiled tho other end of the thong 
around a tree. The brute, on finding himself 
thus in the foils, dashed at the intrepid Ainar 
zon, but, as she slipped on one side, he fortu¬ 
nately missed his aim, and on coming to the 
length of his tether, was, in sailor’s language, 
brought short up and thrown to the ground.— 
Bruin’s career wa3 now at an end, for, seizing 
the thong with his paws, and by so doing 
tightening the noose, he presently managed to 
strangle himself. The Lapp, on seeing the 
beast charge the girl, took fright and ran away; 
and, as a consequence, the bold A\ T ench, who 
was to have been married to him, sent him at 
once to the right about, very properly refusing 
to have anything to say with so dastardly a 
fellow.” 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS, NO. 21. 
• <r\ 
SHifeillltei?: 
**&&&&&** 
Answer in two weeks. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural N&w-Yorker.] 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 31 letters. 
My 8, 4, 7, 8, 18, 22, 12 is an evil parctice. 
My 2, 27, 26, 9, 31 is a fabulous deity. 
My 21, 33, 30,13, 24, 11,7, 29, 31 is knowledge. 
My 10, 23, 26, 29, 4, 18, 15 is anguish. 
My 1, 7, 25, 13, 29, 26 is sagacity. 
My 8, 7, 8, 17, 5 is a guide to truth. 
My 28, 4, 29, 14, 31 is the insignia of royalty. 
My 3, 6, 16, 18, 14, 29, 33, 19, 20 is tho name of 
a person. 
My 32, 34, 4, 29 is a beginner in learning. 
EDWARD HARRISON’S PATENT GRIST MILL 
j gj&si-SoSW Received the highest premium at tho 
Wo, 'M 3 and more than 260 of them 
tiJi&tL have beioi sold within two years. The stones 
PfpP’BSO are French Burr; the frames and hoppers, 
pf j. ' j l—jjfl east iron ; and the spindles, cast steel. They 
will work hot'. for flouring and on all kinds 
of grain, and will keep in repair longer than 
_Sg ny other mill. Having just completed my 
new buumugs, fur manufacturing and running them, 1 am 
now prepared to supply all orders for all the sizes, from 20 
inches to four feet diameter, including a superior farm and 
plantation mill, which will grind corn in the best manner, 
bv horse-power, or even by hand. Public attention is in¬ 
vited to this small mill in particular. Descriptive circulars, 
with cuts, sent to post-paid applications. 
225-it* EDWARD HARRISON, New Haven, Ct., 
Sole manufacturer, and Proprietor of the Patent. 
NEW YORK RECORDER. 
Tenth Volume Enlarged, in quarto form. The Largest 
Baptist Newspaper in the AVorld. Price, in advance, by 
mail, £2; by carriers, $2,50. Lutiier F. Beecher & Co., 
Proprietors, 122 Nassau Street, New York. 
Ix the determination to make their journal a complete 
repository of general and denominational religious intel¬ 
ligence, and of the news of the day, as well as the earnest 
advocate of sound Christian doctrine and social progress, 
the proprietors will summon for these ends every available 
facility, whether editorial, or in the way of contributors 
or correspondents. They have engaged able writers at 
home, and their correspondence from England and Con¬ 
tinental Europe, from Asia and every part, of America, 
they believe to lie unsurpassed. By furnishing a paper of 
the highest grade, from this great commercial centre, they 
hope to increase ilie patronage with which they are al¬ 
ready favored from every section of the United States and 
the neighboring British Provinces. 
The tenth volume commenced March 29th. Subscrip¬ 
tions are solicited, and the present is suggested as the best 
time for forwarding names with payments accompanying. 
8. S. CUTTING. [223-Otwc] L. F. BEECHER. 
KETCKUM’S imxx.OVED MOWING MACHINE, 
With entire change of Gear, the only Successful 
Mower Now Known. 
Ketclnim's Improved Machine, which we are building for 
the harvest of '64, was thoroughly tested last season, and 
the advantages gained by onr change of Gear are in all re¬ 
spects as we designed, viz: durability , convenience and ease 
V, , , _•__ r _ of action. The shafts now have bearings at both ends. 
My whole was the sajtn., of a 1 atnot and w hick overcomes all cramping and cutting away of boxing. 
Statesman. A counter balance is attached to the crank shaft, which 
— gives it a steady : nd uniform motion. Each Machine can 
JgF" Answer next week. be thrown out of gear; there is great convenience in get¬ 
ting at each and every nut, all of them being on upper side 
of the frame; oil cups are attached to all the bearings, 
which, by tiie use of a wad of cotton,, will hold oil for a 
long lime, as well as protect the hearings from dust, grit, 
[For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
A lgebraic Problem. A and 15 bought 100 ; ^- c . the linger bar ia lined with iron its whole width, which 
acres of land for $600, each paid $300 ; A takes ! protects it from wear. 
v ^ j These and various other additions for strength, durability, 
the part must valuable, ami gives one dollar an j &<*.; makes them the most simple and perfect agricultural 
acre more Can B, and cael. one, .tan, amounU,! 2“^ “jJK ZS&XSjS. 
to $300. What was each man’s share of land, j It requires not over ten minutes to get oho ready for op- 
nnd it what rtrire ner acre ? ! eration, there being but two bolts, (besides the pole bolts,) 
ana at M liat puce pel acie f t0 be secure a to have one ready for use. They will cut all 
Answer next week. kinds of grass, and operate well on uneven or rolling lands, 
... . j or whore there are dead furrows. This Machine took the 
-♦- : -| highest award, with special approbation, at the World’s 
j Fair; it also received, during last season, one silver and 
. | four gold medals, and various other flattering and substrin¬ 
gs# ajjm nh I tial testimonials of approval. We have spared neither 
Ha fipl W a ! pains nor money to make this machine deserving of public 
MSpk AjCr ; favor, and hope to be able the coming season to supply the 
IjjyM A, hXtM ° We take this occasion to cautiop farmers against buying 
SttTteSbKw 5 *- I'p B ■pftraSfmay 11 nlried Mowers; if they do (as was the case with many Lust 
MTYY f / -a itfffiHf year) they will incur loss, vexation and disappointment. 
^ SwStsn \fijt — Yk .JjrJwlag, ' 1 'IpBnwJ If any parts are wanted to repair any machine we have 
\ !l B tm sold, or may hereafter sell, they will be furnished ondonly 
\ ' l |[ u ma nufa cturers’ cost for the same be charged. 
'V s ' || 1) snp” In all cases where extras are wanted, be sure to give 
, (\ fl’Y (i 633 tya. 1 _ ! us tiie number of your Machine. 
n wllvj (Warranty:) That said machines are capable of cutting 
fflu El fiiLlijsikj'Sll and spreading, with one span of horses and driver, from ten 
t0 fifteen acres per day of any kind of grass, and do it as 
S® IF WF’’-'■''*$&* w well as is done with aweythe by the best of mowers. 
Sku u (E><zp The price of the Mower, with two sets of knives and ex- 
Ka| Esjjgij; apj' ||i®) tras, is £110 cash, in Buffalo, delivered on board of boat or 
/ \ / '-ab* Office and Shop, corner of Chicago street and Hamburgh 
Canal, near the Estern R. R. Depot, Buffalo, N. Y. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus No. 19.— J. Bow- HOWARD & Co., Manufacturers and Proprietors. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus 1^<>. 19.— J. Bow- 
dish, Post-Master, Y., C. JIubbs, Assistant. 
Answer to Miscell^WWs Enigma in No. 18.— 
Equal Rights of Woman with Man. 
Answer to Problem in No. 18. —17 miles, 99 
rods, 12% f ee t. 
istef JioAgtR. Y, C . JIubbs, Assistant. \ The Mower is also manufactured by Ruggi.es, Nouhsr, 
,, • • at id I Mason & Co., at Worcester, Mass., for the New England 
MiscellaflUnis Enigma in No. 18.— states. 
Equal Rights of Woman with Man. By Seymour, Morgan & Co., Brockport, N. Y., for JUi- 
Answer to 1 roblem in No. 18. —17 nines, JJ ] 5 V warder & Buokaw, Springfield, O., for Ohio and 
rods, 123/ feet. Kentucky. 22U-4L 
J. Rafaljs k Co. are also solo Agents for the sale of 
-__—-- : -:- Ketchum’s Mowing Machine in Rochester, and for the vi- 
CfoCV-V * 1 V O/IY dotty. 220-by nill-3t 
001 if HVm ® It 111 nr - ATKINS’ SELF-RAXING REAPER. 
'Lvv 4-V 4V*W fff/ A V4 ♦» V ♦ Forty of these machines were used the last harvest in 
grasaor grain or both, with almost uniformly good suc- 
'.'>j C(JSS) ; n n ; n0 differen^States and Canada. 
Personal.—A beautiful Jewess attended a , 'Twenty-Six Premiums, including two at the Crystal 
A . . . . , . ^ Palace, (.iilv’er and bronze medals,) were awarded it at tho 
party in I hlladclphia, where She was exceed- autumn exhibitions. I am building only 300, which are be- 
Personal.—A beautiful Jewess attended a 
«NIm. lord lomrxs?” ennfinuod the nerseeu- Payable when Reaper works success! ulty, and another tor 
-Not use lara lamps, .coiuinucu me ptrseou p ,, V) 4 b j B lst Ut . comh ,, r next , with interest. Or £ieo 
tor. “No, sir,’ she answered, “our religion cash ill advance. Warranted to be a good Self-Jlaking 
teaches us to avoid everything swinish, physi- *^ Ag0Uts properly r<womniended wanted throughout 
lcally and morally; therefore, you Will excuse the country. Experienced agenta preferred. It i.i isnpor- 
me for declining to have any more words with tunt this rear to have the machines widely scattered. 
„ ° * Descriptive circulars with outs, and gwmg impartially 
The “Sons and ^Daughters of Vermont,” 
held a grand FainiK^Pfetival at Lowell, recent¬ 
ly. Saxe was invited to “hold a butt,” but 
being compelled to decline the invitation, sent 
the following proxy; 
Vermont.—F amous for the production of 
four great staples, namely:— Men, women, ma¬ 
ple-sugar and horses. 
the dillicu Aits as well as successes of the Reaper, mailed to 
post-paid applications. J. S. WRIGHT. 
“ Prairie Farmer” Warehouse, Chicago, Feb., 1864. 
215-13t-m3t 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
Id PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, 
BY 1). D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y, 
a man that never surrendered? Because it’s 
“ clear grit,” and nothing else. 
Why is dancing like new milk? D’ye give 
it up? Because it strengthens the calves. 
Why is a telegraphic dispatch like a singing 
master? Because it beats time. 
the lady. Calebs evaporated. 
pie-sugar and horses. TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
The first are strong — *ho last are fleet; Subscription -*2 a year-Sl for rix months. To 
Tho second and third are exceedingly sweet; Clubs and Agents as followsThree Copies one year, for 
And all are uncommonly “hal'd to beat.” Six Copies (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) 
- ..<«»•<— ----— for $10; Ten Copies (and one to Agent,) for §15; Twenty 
Connundrums.— Why is four cent sugar like G °P ie » for S 25 - “ d additioDal number > directed to 
a man that never surrendered? Because it’s ^dividual* at the same rate Six months subscriptions in 
, . ,, , ... , proportion. Aa we are obliged to pro-pay the American 
‘'clcaipill, am not nng e se. # I> 08 tage on papera sent to the British Provinces, our Cana- 
hy IS dancing’ like now milk . * } ^ ageuta and fnendu must add 26 cents per copy to the 
it Up? Because it strengthens the calves. * club rates of the Uukal,— making tho lowest price to Cana- 
Why is a telegraphic dispatch like a singing (lian subscribers $ 1,50 per year, 
master? Because it beats time. 53 c* Subscription money, properly enclosed, may be sent 
_ _ , ^ , _ by mall at the risk of the Publisher. 
An old bachelor geologist was boasting that V The postage on the Rural is bat 3M cents per <!»ar- 
every rock was as familiar to him as the alpha- ^ in lld ' iuice « to P art tt ’ 8 st,lt « - ao * 
bet. A lady, who was present, declared that «” lt3 . t0 T y p “ rt ° f T L " itcd SUkte *’“* xc ‘ ,pt M ^ ro ° 
she knew of a rock of which he was wholly ig- /OQn y ’ " u-rt> 1 s ° es _ 
norant. “Name it, madame! Clied ^Ctelebs, Adtsrttsing. — Brief and appropriate advertisements 
in a rage. “it is rock the cradle, sir, replied inserted at $1,50 per square, (ten lines, or 100 
the lady. Ccelebs evaporated. words,) or 16 cents per Line — in advance. The circulation 
_, , 0 , , ___of the Rural New-Yorker is several thousand greater 
“In short, ladies and gentlemen,” said an th.™ that of any other Agriraitundor h, 
- 7 ui 1 t j 1 America. Patent medicines, &e., will not be m 
“In short, ladies and gentlemen,” said an “ that o any otner ngnconurai or „your«a, a, 
overpowered orator, “ I can only say-I beg tllis paper ou Uliy ternu . 
leave to add — I desire to assure you —-1 bat 1 j^>”a11 communications, and bnaimvw letters, should 
wish I had a window in my bosom, that you l(U (i Udrei*oJ to D. D. T. Moo KB, Rochester, N. Y. 
might see the emotion of my heart” Vulgar -- 
boy from the gallery.—“ V ouldn t a pane in The Wool Grower and Stock Register the only 
yonr stomach do this time, old feller?" American journal devoted to the Wool and Stock Gkow- 
' ing Interests. It contains a vast amount of useful and 
-• ‘ ♦ 1 ’ * reliable information not given in any other work, and 
A MEMBER of a western debating club, wish- should be in the hands of Every Own’er of Domestic Asti- 
. , .. , , . C . • ,1 « rort/*, whether located East or Wer»t, North or South.— 
illg to display Ills proficiency in tho languages, p ub ij»lied monthly in octavo form, illustrated, at Only 
when moving for an indefinite adjournment of Fifty Cents a Year— 6 copies for $2; 8 for £3. v<>i, 5 
tho olnb _“\1r l’rpqident I move WO ad- commenced July, 1863. Subscriptions can begin with the 
tiie Clun, said— Mr. 1 lesmem, i mote uu July or January number. Back volumes furnished. 
joum E phiribus unwnl” 'Address B. D. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
