MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
flSSBBfiSB 
BY J. C. MILLEB. 
and Mrs. Jones arranging matters for the mor¬ 
row, as they sat by the bed of bright coals. 
“ Wife,” said Mr. Jones, “they give me a 
,, very good account of Ellen at B. Mrs. W. 
says she is a fine scholar,—ambitious,—with a 
[Written for the Rural New-Yorker.] good share of self-respect They all advised 
FRIENDSHIP. me to have her return in the spring. But the 
■—— question is, can we afford it? We’ve had to 
uy j. c. mil leb. make an extra effort to do what we have for 
is “Friendship but a name, her; but then, if I was sure she would repay 
A false and fleeting shade ?” us,p[ shouldn’t mind that or more.” 
Ah no, it is a constant flame, “We can tell better how to act in this mat- 
A light that cannot fade. ter when spring comes,—we will try and make 
It has a potent spell E1Ie " h W at h°™ tU1 the ?>” Said M , rS ‘ J0nes ’ 
Enthralling kindred hearts, “Heigho! well, 1 ve a notion it takes more 
And from the spirit’s deepest well to make girls happy that have been to these 
Its holy fountain starts. Schools, ’ Said Mr. J Ones. 
Thus, lady, thus we feel The next morning found the family seated 
A spell around us thrown j around the breakfast table before it was dawn; 
Thus, each to each, our hearts reveal Mr. J ones being a hard-working, industrious 
Their fountains overflown. man, found the old maxim, “Early to bed,” &c., 
Oh, may their waters blend for his special interest. They knew it would 
And form a placid stream, require some effort for Ellen to rise an hour 
Which shall flow on to being’s end earliei than had been her custom; so as she 
As flows a quiet dream ! did not appear, they said it was “no matter; 
I by-and-by she would get up as early as any of 
7 ' them.” Ellen made her appearance soon af- 
l ill lYtvlv ter the family left the table. 
A4 ov' 111 IX if JsJ 1) U fl ♦ Just now Mr. Jones entered and said to the 
S 0 t ' children, that George and Sarah S., children of 
their nearest neighbors, were coming with their 
E t r p -.t T A NT t? ci sleds, and if their mother could spare them for 
JLi JU Ju JN J U IN Jd u . an hour, they might go to the top of the hill 
- and slide. “Where’s Ellen?” said Mr. Jones, 
A STORY TOR GIRLS. “ call her; there’ll be no better coasting this 
— season, and of course, George S. knows of no 
One fine December night, the air was clear one he will be more pleased to see on hiss led.” 
id cold, and three children were pressing their “ Ellen is up stairs;” said Mrs. Jones, “ but I 
Is “ Friendship but a numo, 
A false and fleeting shade ?” 
Ah no, it is a constant flame, 
A light that cannot fade. 
It has a potent spell 
Enthralling kindred hearts, 
And from the spirit’s deepest well 
Its holy fountain starts. 
Thus, lady, thus we feel 
A spell around us thrown; 
Thus, each to each, our hearts reveal 
Their fountains overflown. 
Oh, may their waters blend 
And form a placid stream, 
Which shall flow on to being’s end 
As flows a quiet dream ! 
ptaral JSkftJj 
ELLEN JONES. 
A STORY TOR GIRLS. 
and cold, and three children were pressing their “ Ellen is up stairs;” sai 
faces against the window, eager to catch the hardly think she will go.” 
first sound of bells—sleigh bells, 
“ Go! why yes she will go, or else she is not 
“ 1 see them, ’ said Eddy, the youngest of Ellen J ones. Call her, mother, and we’ll see.” 
the three, who was allowed the favor of stand- As Ellen entered, it was evident to Mr. and 
ing in a high chair, and thus looking out Mrs. J ones that something was the matter, for 
through the upper squares of glass; “ I can see there were traces of tears, and her countenance 
something.” 
“ Let me stand in your chair a moment, 
was’ by no means a happy one. 
“ Ellen,” said Mr. J., “ George and Sarah S. 
Bub,’ said Lizzie. “Yes, I believe it is fath- are coming with their sleds—the children have 
er and Ellen,” said she. 
gone to meet them; would you like to go out 
“ I know it is,” said Mary, “ for I hear the j and slide down hill with them a few times?— 
bells; it’s our bells.” 
Even the mother’s eye beamed with unwont- 
You can spare her, can’t you, mother?” 
“I would rather not go,” said Ellen, without 
ed pleasure as her youngest darling exclaimed, raising her eyes from the floor. 
“Here they are, father and Ellen! 0, Ellen, Mrs. Jones now silently motioned to her 
she looks like a queen—with a feather in her husband to say nothing further to Ellen. She 
bonnet; how beautiful!” was left alone with her daughter, who looking 
A general rush was made for the door as out of the window asked her mother, “ if 
Mr. Jones tenderly, and perhaps a little proud- things always looked alike to her?” 
ly, handed his eldest daughter from the sleigh. Mrs. Jones smiled, and saying that was a 
Low tie younger children crowd around, queer question, replied that the same things 
eager to observe every look and catch her did appear somewhat differently at different 
tones, as she receives her mother s warm grasp, times, for the reason that we view the same i 
£m returns her proffered kiss. 1 o them, sister objects with such various feelings. “ I expect 
El en was quite an important personage; aside you enjoyed yourself very much while you were 
tiom her being the eldest daughter, she had away, this winter and summer; you were hap- 
been six months in a seminary. Having been py ) were you, my daughter?” 
in the city, was, to the brother and sisters, in « Yes, mother, happier than I shall ever be 
! event - ] h a t much was expected again, if I’ve got to stay at home,” replied she, 
of Ellen they were fully aware; many little ar- a t the same time bursting into tears, 
range mente, and alterations in household mat- “ Why, my child, do tell me why you feel so, 
ters had they joined with their mother in mak- why this change? I must know, Ellen; your 
mg, solely in reference to Pollen’s return. . happiness is very dear to me. Do not let us 
Parmer Jones felt a glow ot honest pride see you unhappy, if it is in our power to make 
as he gazed on Ellen s fine face with a look of y 0 u feel otherwise.” 
love. Certainly sister had improved in personal “Well, mother, perhaps’twould have been 
appearance so thought the children as after better to have let me stayed at home.” 
tea, they all gathered around the open fire- “ Why, my child?” 
place, and turned their eyes to mother’s right “Because, there is everything beautiful in 
hand, where sat Ellen in the little rocking-chair, the city, and of course I must, I could not 
Mr. Jones, instead ot reading his weekly pa- help being happy there. Uncle’s house is so 
per as usual, damp from the press, dries it care- different, so much pleasanter, so much more 
tully before the blaze, and lays it upon the ta- elegant than this. O, this looks like a prison 
ble; to tell the truth he knew he shouldn’t un- beside it; their kitchen looks prettier to me 
derstand or remember a .word if he read, for than our parlor. And then aunt never works 
ms mind was now with his children, particular- as you do; it is far pleasanter to have servants. 
Iy with the one who had just entered the home 0 , I wish I had never gone from home, and 
0 ^ childhood. _ then I should’nt have known but it was well 
I he children ask Ellen a few questions, enough here;” and Ellen drew a long sigh, 
which she answers, not quite as readily as they “Well, my dear, if you don’t wish it, we will 
had supposed she would, and mother tells them not again send you; you will forgive your 
“ that as Ellen is tired, and almost enough of a father and mother for placing you in circum- 
stranger to be called company, she thought stances which caused you to be so unhappy.— 
they ought to entertain her.” Surely we made a great mistake, and 0, El- 
“ Come, Eddy, said she, “ can’t you tell El- fen, you don’t know how great an effort we 
len something that has taken place since she made, to give you these advantages.” 
left us? I think you can say something that “ I don’t want you to talk so, mother.” 
will interest sister; just think, she has been 
away from us since June.” 
“ But my dear, you are taking a wrong and 
mistaken view of everything, and 0, Ellen, how 
Of course, litt.e Eddy supposed his sister little you know of the world; if I had time, I 
would be as much interested as himself, and would tell you how, for months before you left 
commenced with, “ 0, Ellen! we’ve had such USj your father and I exerted ourselves to give 
nice times, only we wished you had been here,’ you an opportunity to acquire knowledge, and 
and then the girls joined with Eddy and re- to make you happy. Let me beg of you, El- 
counted the many joyous, free, and merry times fen, not to speak to your father, as you have to 
that good children who live in the country me; it does seem to me that you can overcome 
know all about How in summer they ranged these feelings at once, if you choose—at any 
over the green fields, or played beneath the ra te you will shortly, if you will make an effort, 
shade of the tall pines in the deep wood, and and cherish kind feelings. Will you try?” 
in the winter, when the air was clear and brae- “ Yes, mother, but it’s no use; I can’t make 
mg, and the long hills covered with the icy believe contented.” 
snow, how the boys drew their sleds up their The children returned and gave Ellen an ac- 
smooth sides, and with the girls glided swift- count of their hour’s enjoyment. “ Such a 
ly down and far over the interval below. . good time,” exclaimed Eddy, “ you never had 
“Its fane coasting now, is it, my son?” said down to uncle’s, I know; George was real sorry 
Mr. Jones. “Ellen will be a fresh customer not to see you, Ellen.” 
for yeu to-morrow;, twill take, a day or two to in the evening the family were seated 
rub off the city polish, won t it though ?” turn- around the open fire-place whose cheerful blaze 
mg to EUcn and patting her under the chin. made shadows on the wall, and threw its light 
“ I don t know, father,” said Lizzie, “ the city over the whole, 
girls that I ve seen are as big romps when “Now for some popped corn, Eddy, and 
they, are out here, as any ot us. There’s some apples,” said Mr. Jones, 
cousin Kate and Jane, when they were here “Yes, father, I’ve got it all shelled ready.” 
last summer, they could beat us all; yes, and gee our new corn-popper, Ellen,” said Eddy. 
of ttiem 7 for°aU “ d ^ “ 
“What made everybody love them?” said "T t-K ,k- h i‘o S ”r y T 
Mrs. Jones, who had been a little sad for a few Xt „ ^ J 
minuteg shaking—pop, pop, snap,—and it was quickly 
“Because they were so kind-hearted,” said t “™Y 1>si '? e “g™- “ d ? m l )tied ? f it8 XT 
YiLszie white kernels. Soon the large dish was filled, 
Lizzie 6 “ lu white kernels. Soon the large dish was filled, 
‘ “Because they were so real polite,” said “ d tle red - ch “Hf fppl« were beside it.- 
J 1 ’ Ellen was now quite cheerful, more so than she 
“It was because they wern’t a mite proud,” “ her u retu ™' “" d j h . e « ve “ n « 
said Eddy, “ and every time I see old lame Sweetly sounded her hue 
r aa „. _’tn - „ _ 4 , ,i__ , voice as with her mother she mined in singing 
Isaac, he asks me something about them, and 
says, ‘ raal ladies them was.’ ” 
rith her mother she joined in singing 
There in a land of pure delight,” 
Somehow the evening wore away pleasantly and when she knelt with the others, and her 
enough, but without Ellen’s seeming quite so father prayed that they might be “ that happy 
free and glad, so happy and satisfied, as was family whose God is the Lord,” how did her 
Ellen of a year ago. The children easily ac- mother’s heart fill with grateful emotions to 
counted for this if they noticed it, by supposing the Giver of every blessing, 
it was a very sad thing to part with teachers Ellen took a candle from the mantel, and 
and school-mates. They retired and left Mr. lighting it, pleasantly bade her father and 
mother “ good night;” as she closed the door, 
her mother heard her exclaim. 
“What is it, Ellen,” said she; “did you not 
speak to me?” 
“No, but it is shockingly disagreeable to 
have these tallow candles; it’s too bad, tallow 
dropping upen my dress; so different from 
uncle’s gas lights—well, I must bear it, no use 
to say a word—though I despise these things.” 
Mrs. J. closed the door and made no reply. 
“Wife, what ails Ellen?” said Mr. Jones, as 
she reseated herself. “What has got into her? 
I think it’s prttty well, if we’ve got to make an 
effort to raise money to send the children away 
to school, otly to come back and despise 
home. It is laving its effect upon the younger 
ones—they look up to Ellen. Do you think 
Eddy didn’t ssty to me out in the barn to-day, 
‘ that the reason his feet were so cold was, be¬ 
cause we had jo carpets on the floor;’ I asked 
him how he knew, and he said, * Ellen said so.’” 
“I’m very sorry,” said Airs. Jones, “but El¬ 
len is not really uuamiable—once let us touch 
her better feelings, and certain I am she has 
them, and she will shew as kind and as true a 
heart as any child we have got.” 
“I know it but ’twont do to be harsh, we 
can’t scold it out of her; and I’m afraid we 
can’t coax it out very quick.” 
“ Shall you go to the village this week?” 
asked Mrs. Jones. 
“Yes, I shall go day after to-morrow; shall 
we let Ellen go over and spend the day?” 
“ That is what I was thinking of,” replied 
Airs. Jones. “ We must be gentle as well as 
firm, and her good sense will show' her better 
by-and-by, I hope.” 
Pleasantly felt Ellen, if we judge from her 
beaming countenance, as seated in the sleigh 
by her father’s side, on a fine morning, she 
bade her mother and sister “good bye;” pleas¬ 
ant visions of village girls, rich furniture and 
charming music were flitting through her mind, 
and a feeling like contempt for her own home, 
and something like pity for its inmates, mingled 
with these pleasurable feelings. “ But they 
don’t know any better,” she inwardly felt.— 
“ Yes, and didn’t you,” said a little timid voice 
speaking from the chamber of her secret 
thoughts, “didn’t you enjoy your childish 
sports at home, when you didn’t know any bet¬ 
ter? Didn’t you have a better time when you 
played in the oak pasture; yes, and didn’t you 
have a better time in the garret, even, playing 
blindman’s buff; than in uncle J.’s parlors?”— 
, Then Ellen was almost obliged to own to her¬ 
self that ’twas so. Then she thought how full 
of enjoyment the children were the day before, 
when it stormed, sitting on grandmamma’s set¬ 
tle, and calling it uncle’s velvet lounge. 
“ Well, it’s because they don’t know any bet¬ 
ter, and I do know better. I won’t stoop or 
bend to their homely notions again;” and El- 
■ fen tossed her head with quite an air for a 
young Miss, in confirmation of this thought, as 
her father reined his horse to the door of a 
shabby looking cottage in one of the back 
streets of the village they had just entered. 
“ N ow, Ellen,” said her father, “ I want you 
to get out here, and stop a spell; I am going 
to the mill to get this bag of corn ground, and 
may be you would rather not have any of 
your young friends know that you rode with a 
bag of corn.” 
Ellen blushed, for she didn’t suppose till that 
moment, that her father understood her motive 
when she expressed a wish to walk part of the 
distance. “If I shouldn’t call for you very 
soon, Ellen, don’t be worried, for you will find 
an old friend here; try and enjoy yourself, 
and be sure and stay till I call for you; there, 
give these things to Alary,” said he, handing 
her some bundles; don’t knock, walk right in.” 
“ Alary, Mary,” thought she, hesitating a mo¬ 
ment on the door-step, “It must be Alary Teel, 
who lived with us when mother was sick;” and 
then she heard a lullaby noise, and the faint 
wail of an infant, and softly she opened the 
door of a dark entry. Closing this, she felt her 
way to the opposite door, and entered a little 
room. She was, for a moment, unable to dis¬ 
tinguish objects, but a kind, though unfamiliar 
voice greeted her, and placing a broken chair 
by the stove, invited her to be seated. Ellen 
now looked around the dark room; dark, 
not because there was no pleasant sunlight 
without, but because there was but one little 
window of four squares for it to gain admit¬ 
tance to this attic room. 
In one corner was a low cot bed, upon which 
lay Alary Teel. Little had Ellen seen of sick¬ 
ness,—yet one glance told her that Alary was 
very ill. Then as her eye wandered from the 
bed to the mean and wretched appearance of 
everything in the room, she for a moment had 
a feeling of disgust, and felt unkindly towards 
her father for leaving her there. It was but 
for a moment, however, for Ellen, as we said 
before, had a kind heart, and when she saw 
Mary’s baby lifted from its little broken cradle, 
and placed in the bed by its mother, and heard 
the woman who attended her describe her in¬ 
tense sufferings, with that distressing sickness, 
the rheumatic fever, her heart melted. 
No visions of her uncle’s splendid parlors 
now rose before her, but she was thinking how 
Mary, pretty Mary Teel, two years ago, watch¬ 
ed by the sick bed of her mother, with a heart 
as free from sorrow and care as was then her 
own. Then as Mary, awaking from the fitful 
slumber into which she had fallen, placed her 
bright eyes on Ellen, the color on her cheek 
heightened, and she reached out her thin hand 
to grasp Ellen’s, which was quickly placed in 
her’s—feeble was the grasp, yet it thrilled 
through her inmost soul. 
“ Tis kind in you, so kind, to come to see 
me, ‘ a friend in need is a friend indeed!’ Such 
a sweet thought I had while I was sleeping; I 
thought your dear mother stood by my bed¬ 
side, and with her sweet voice sang 
“ Pain and death, and night and anguish. 
Enter not the realms above.” 
and now you will sing it to me—O, I wish you 
knew some more, my head is so weak 1 can’t 
think much.” Ellen placed her hand over her 
eyes, now swimming in tears, and thought for a 
moment; “I believe I know some of it,” said 
she; then bending low she repeated, 
‘‘ Endless pleasure, pain excluding, 
Sickness there no more can come. 
There no fear of woe intruding, 
Sheds o’er Heaven a moment’s gloom.” 
Mary listened with clasped hands and closed 
eyes, and then softly added— 
“Lay thy supporting, gentle hand, 
Beneath my sinking head. 
Then in a gentle whisper she asked Ellen if she 
could sing it like her mother. She did so with 
a low, sweet voice, and Alary remained silent 
for a few minutes after looking earnestly at 
her; then motioning for her to lean over the 
bed-side, she whispered in her ear, “Are you 
happy, dear? 0 yes, you must be; 1 am, I 
have everything to make me happy.” Ah! 
those words sunk deep in a kind but sensitive 
nature. 
Where were Ellen’s fancied sorrows? Scat¬ 
tered to the winds. 
Alary now slept, and Ellen for the first time 
•thought of the articles her father gave her for 
Alary. She untied the bundles, and first were 
a dozen candles—“ tallow candles.” “ 0 , kind 
in you, dear, to bring them,” said the woman, 
“we’ve burnt rags in a little dipper of grease, 
but it’s not so neat, you know. You must be 
used to sickness, dear,” she said as Ellen hand¬ 
ed up the other articles, “ to know how we 
needed these things.” 
“ My mother is,” was the reply. “ Well, 
dear, surely you was kind as could be, to come 
here—young folks like you arn’t always so 
thoughtful like, but you’ll have your reward.— 
She,” pointing to the bed, “ she is a saint, and 
oceans of sorrow she’s waded through. When 
her husband died and left her in sore want she 
never murmured a word, nor in all her sickness, 
nor no time, has a sharp word fell.” 
How changed were Ellen Jones’ feelings, as 
ere she placed her head on her pillow that 
night she prayed “ deliver us from evil.” Then 
did she feel that no evil indeed had ever fallen 
upon her. And in after years, when she had 
become a useful and a happy woman, did she 
recur to that visit, believing that God taught 
her there, that “ to make others happy, is one 
of the truest objects of life.— JY. E. Farmer. 
The opinion of a fool is of more value than 
the oath of a hypocrite. 
'g Corner. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS, NO. 8$. 
Answer in two weeks. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
The language used by a distinguished war¬ 
rior, informing his Government of victories won, 
consisting of three words, forms the basis of the 
following: 
My 5, 12, 4, 10 represents a sum which, if mul¬ 
tiplied into itself, and one of its factors be 
added to the product, and the sum then divid¬ 
ed by 6, it will give the number of letters con¬ 
tained in my whole. 
My 9, 4, 8 represents the number contained in 
the cluster of stars called Pleiades. 
My 1, 10 represents a number which, if doubled 
and multiplied into itself, and then divided by 
the original number, the quotient will be twice 
that of the number of letters contained in my 
whole. 
My 5, 9,1 each represents a numerical figure. 
My 5, 10, 2 is to strive for superiority. 
My 9, 4, 7, 2 is to see, to discern. 
My 1, 8, 11, 2 is a useful invention. 
My 5, 4, 9, 2 is long life. 
Aly 9, 2, 6, 3 is, in Geology, a seam intersecting 
a rock or stratum. 
My 5, 12, 3, 2 is the long slender stem of any 
plant. 
My 1, 8,5, 10, 7 is full of life, lucid, bright, ac¬ 
tive. 
My 9, 2, 3,7 is transferring a thing for an equiv¬ 
alent. 
My 5, 2, 3, 7, 2, 2 Ls a person to whom property 
is sold. 
My 5, 2, 3, 8, 11, 2 is the name of a city in 
Europe. 
My 9, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2 is poisonous, venomous. 
The numbers contained in the 1st, 2d, and 3d 
linos, added together and multiplied by the 
written numbers contained in the 4th line, from 
the product of which substract 8, and divide by 
613; the answer will be the number of words 
contained in my whole, commencing witli the 
same letter of the alphabet. eunomy. 
Rural Grove, Aug., 1854. 
Answer next week. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus No. 33 .—If you 
live above your income, curtail expenses. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma in No. 32.— 
St. Clare to Eva in heaven. 
Answer to Arithmetical Question in No. 32.— 
A owed $52.30 10-13; C owed $95.19 3-13 ; B 
had $76.15 5-13 ; C had $228.46 2-13. 
THOMAS’ NEW FARM BOOK. 
Farm Implements, and the principles of their construc¬ 
tion and use, with 200 illustrations. By J. J. Thomas. 
Tlic following are only a few out of the many commen¬ 
datory notices which this work lias already received from 
tiie pnss: 
It is a most valuable work ; is admirably adapted to the 
wants of the farmer; and there is no more desirable book 
for our Common Schools.— Journal of N. Y. State Ag. 
Society. 
We wish to see this work placed in the hands of every 
farmer and farmei’s son, as an indispensable book; and 
school commissioners should see that it has a place on the 
shelves of every rural district school library. It is admir¬ 
ably adapted for popular use as a text book. The illustra¬ 
tions are ample and excellent; and every statement is 
made in such a straightforward manner that even a child 
could not mistake the meaning. Mr. l'homas has done the 
agricultural community a great service in the preparation 
of this hook.— Horticulturist. 
This is an invaluable work for the practical agriculturist, 
affording as it does the theory of mechanical forces as ap¬ 
plied in machinery used in farm labor; it will enable far¬ 
mers to construct many indispensable articles, and to un- 
■ erstand the principles and construction of all agricultu¬ 
ral machines.”— Poston Herald. 
We have never seen so much philosophy brought to 
Ircar in a practical manner on the ordinary concerns of 
life.— PresbyU rian Haulier. 
•fust the book for farmers who wish to perform their 
labor intelligently and efficiently.— Zion's Herald. 
This is an interesting and invaluable work lor the farmer, 
and should be in the hands of every farmerin the country. 
Ohio Farmer. 
We should bo glad to see the hook in every one of our 
schools and popular libraries.— N. Y. Agriculturist. 
Published by HARPER k BROTHERS. New York, and 
sold by booksellers generally. 239 3teow. 
DRILLING IN WHEAT. 
Moore’s Seed Planter, ot Grain Drill. 
Patented July 2, I860.—This valuable implement of 
husbandry, which Las been thoroughly tested in many 
places, is used for planting Wheat, Ryk, Ooiun, Oath, 
Barley, Beans, &c. It operates equally well on all kinds 
of land, and is not injured by coming in contact with 
rocks, roots, &c.; and it is believed, is superior to any other 
implement of the kind in use, as may be seen by the testi¬ 
monials of many of the best farmers in the State. There 
are seveial advantages in drilling over broad-cast sowing, 
among which are these :—It is most expeditious; it saves 
labor, which is money; it completes the process of seeding 
wherever it moves ; and experience has proved that more 
grain is obtained, of a heavier berry, and with less seed, 
owing to its ..eing covered at any required depth, where 
every kernel has moisture and a chance to germinate. 
Drilling Wheat.—E dward Stabler, in his admirable es¬ 
say on the advantage of drill seeding, states that alter ex¬ 
amining its results on some 800 or 1,000 acres, besides largo 
experience on his own land, he (inds there is not a single 
instance where it has not proved the most profitable.— 
First, in the saving of seed, and secondly in the increased 
product of the grain, amounting to from one to seven 
bushels to the acre. He had known the increase, in one 
case, by careful comparison of the two inodes, to amount 
to nine bushels per acre in favor of drilling. He relates an 
interesting incident:—A vender offered a drill for the in¬ 
crease in a crop of 50 acres of wheat, to be determined by 
sowing a few strips broad-cast for comparison ; but before 
the harvest, the farmer preferred puyiug the hundred dol¬ 
lars for the price of a drill, with interest. On carefully 
ascertaining the increase, he found it to he one hundred 
and fifty-three bushels.— Albany Cultivator. 
Extract from the N. Y. Tribune, Feb. 3,1853, article on In¬ 
dustrial Exhibitions at the World’s Fair, London : 
“Those who understand the subject, know that at least 
one-third of the seed may be saved, and a tenth added to 
the crop by drilling, as contrasted with the old, slovenly 
process of sowing by hand. The annual saving by the 
general adoption of drilling in this country, would be equal 
in value to all the gold we receive from California.” 
The highest premiums have been awarded to this Drill at 
the Agricultural Fairs in Delaware, at Philadelphia, Balti¬ 
more, Detroit, in Maryland, and at various County Fairs in 
Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, and other States. 
TESTIMONIALS. 
To E. W. Hudnut & Co.:—The Grain Drill which wo sev¬ 
erally purchased of you in 1852, works to our entire satis¬ 
faction. Its simplicity, and certainty of distribution, to¬ 
gether with its cheapness, commend it in preference to any 
Drill witli which we are acquainted. Samuel Lewis, Esq., 
York, Liv. Co.. N. Y.; Wm. W. Fletcher, Jr., Chns. Hazel- 
ton, Elijah Armstrong, Geo. W. Uhl, Learning Clark, Gen- 
eseo; Chas. Heudersliott, Andrew Boyd, Kieli’d Johnson, 
Groveland. 
Extract of a letter from Mr. McCrone, near Newcastle, 
Delaware :—“ Your Drill stands unrivalled, as is admitted 
by all Farmers in the neighborhood, that have seen it in 
operation.” 
“This is to certify, that we, the undersigned, have used 
Lewis Moore’s Improved Grain Drill, and we believe that 
for simplicity, durability, cheapness, ease, speed find regu¬ 
larity of sowing, it surpasses anything of the kind hereto¬ 
fore in use among us, and we do recommend it to farmers 
as being a machine the best adapted to their wants.”— 
Signed, Wm. Linville, Lancaster Co., Penn., and thirteen 
other farmers. 
Orders will be received for these machines by the sub¬ 
scribers, who have purchased the right to make and sell 
them in the Counties of Monroe, Ontario, Wyoming, and 
Livingston. 
Cash prices at the shop,—8 teeth Drills, 8 in a part, $05; 
9 teeth do., 7 and 8 in a pnrt, $70; 10 teeth do., 8 in a part, 
$75; II do., 8 in a part, $80. E. W. HUDNUT & CO. 
Geneseo, Livingston Co., N. Y., June, 1854 230-8t 
THE WOOL GROWER AND STOCK REGISTER. 
Vol. VI.— Enlarged and Improved! 
TnK Wool Grower and Stock Register is the only 
American journal devoted to the important and profitable 
branches of fVool and Stock Husbandry. It contains a 
vast amount of useful and reliable information on the 
above and kindred subjects, and should be in the hands of 
every owner or breeder of Sheep, Cattle, Horses, Swine, or 
Poultry—whether located East or West, North or South, 
for the most of the matter given in its pages is equally 
adapted to all sections of the Union, the Canadas, &e. The 
Sixth Volume, commencing July, 1854, will be 
Enlarged to 32 Octavo Pages Monthly!! 
And improved in both Contents and Appearance. Among 
other matters of interest to Wool Growers, Breeders, Gra¬ 
ziers, Dairymen, kc., the new volume will contain Pkdi- 
grkks os' Pcke-Bkbd Cattle, Horses, Sheep, etc., and the 
Names and Residences of the principal Breeders and Own¬ 
ers of Improved Stock throughout the country. It is pub¬ 
lished in the rest style, and Illustrated with many 
Engravings— including Portraits of Domestic Animals, 
Designs of Fnrm Buildings, kc., kc. The careful Reviews 
of the Wool and Cattle Markets, given in each num¬ 
ber, are alone worth many times the price of the paper.— 
To Wool Growers this feature is invaluable. 
TERMS — Only Fifty Cents a Year j 
Five Copies for $2; Eight for $3 ,—in advance. Any addi¬ 
tional number at 37j4 cents per copy. Club papers will be 
sent to dilferent post-offices, if desired. Back vol¬ 
umes (well bound in paper, for mailing/ furnished at 
ab ove l ates. 
SHF”Now is the Time to Subscribe and form ClHbs. 
Money, properly enclosed, may be mailed at our risk, if 
addressed to I). 1>. T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
£ yY” Mr. C. Moore, of Gerry, Chau. Co., is authorized 
to act as Agent for the Rural New-Yorker, and for the 
Wool Grower and Stock Register, in the counties of 
Chautauque and Cattaraugus, N. Y., and Warren, Pa. 
MOOEE’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 follows :—Three Copies one year, for 
$5; SixCopieB (and one to Agent or getter up of club,) 
for $10; Ten CopioB (and one to Agent,) for $15; Twenty 
Copies for $25, and any additional number, directed to 
individuals at the same rate. Six months subscriptions in 
proportion. As we are obliged to pre-pay the American 
postage on papers sent to the British Provinces, our Cana¬ 
dian agents and friends must add 25 cents per copy to the 
club rates of the Rural,— making the lowest price to Cana¬ 
dian subscribers $1,50 per year. 
HiT Subscription money, properly enclosed, may be sent 
by mail at the risk of the Publisher. 
•.•The postage on the Rural is but cents per quar¬ 
ter, payable in advance, to any part of the State — and 8X 
cents to any part of the United States,— except Monroe 
County, where it goes free. 
Advertising. —Brief and appropriate advertisements 
will be inserted at $1,50 per square, (ten lines, or 100 
words,) or 15 cents per line — in advance. The circulation 
of the Rural New-Yorker is several thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or Bimilar journal in 
America. Patent medicines, 4c^ will not be advertised in 
this paper on any terms. 
VW AH communications, and business letters, should 
be addressed to D. D. T. Moore, Rochester, N. Y. 
