MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YO RKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Rf licaL 
[Written for Mooro’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE OWLS’ CONCERT. 
BY HORACE S. RUMSKY. 
A choir of owls, in a hemlock wood, 
A concert held by night, 
Row after row on many a limb, 
They ranged them by moonlight. 
They ranged them by moonlight. 
The chorister owl now leads the band. 
And chants, “ tuwhit, tuwhoo I” 
A multitude to him respond. 
And echo back “ whoo, wlioo!” 
And echo back “whoo, whoo.” 
A rustic youth in the dusky grove, 
They frighten near out of his wits; 
While pealing from the boughs above, 
Their many “ tuwhoo, tuwhits,” 
Their many “ tuwhoo, tuwhits.” 
His hair on end, with might and main, . 
He through the forest flits, 
While on his ear ring dolefully 
Their “ whoo, tuwhoo, tuwhits,” 
Their “ whoo, tuwhoo, tuwhits.” 
The pioneer’s cot at length he gains, 
And rushes through the door, 
And trembling with aifright he sinks 
Exhausted on the floor, 
Exhausted on the floor. 
“ What is the matter with my son. 
What can the matter be ?” 
“Oh, father! what a horrid din 
Rung out from every tree I 
Rung out from ev’ry tree 1” 
“Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwlioo-o-o,” they cried, 
AH babel had broke loose, 
“ It were but owls that scared my boy, 
You are a little goose, 
You are a little goose.” 
Elmira Water-Cure, N. Y., 1S54. 
§tml jUictdj §mIu 
I1EPSEY BARTON. 
Mihs Hepsey Barton was an old maid!— 
So said all the young men in Lenox, and all 
the girls too, and the old saying," What every¬ 
body says must be true,” of course verified 
this first assertion. Notwithstanding this 
dreadful fact, Miss Ilepsey was a universal fa¬ 
vorite with the young people of both sexes; 
and, although the most inquisitive damsel in 
Ixmox, Kate Grey, could never find the most 
remote tradition of her having had any “love 
affair," still there was no one in the place that 
seemed to take a warmer interest in the court¬ 
ships and flirtations of all the young people 
around her than Hepsey. She was thirty-four 
years old, as she farnkly owned, and as read the 
Town Clerk’s record—still her mirror reflected 
no scowl nor wrinkle on her features, nor silver 
thread in her brown hair. She was hot beau¬ 
tiful. She had a high forehead, but her hair 
grew low over it; her eyes were gray, nose 
large, and shaped a little' like a potato; her 
mouth was large, and showed a set of white 
but irregular teeth; her complexion was a sort 
of “ neutral tint,” and her hair, though abun¬ 
dant and glossy, of a fine brown color, was al¬ 
ways dressed with the simplicity of a Quakeress. 
No wonder that Hepsey was, as we have 
said, a favorite among the villagers; the chil¬ 
dren liked her because she mingled with them 
in their childish sports, and taught them new 
modes of amusement; and she never met them 
without a kind word or a sunny smile. And 
then among the young men and maidens how 
could she fail to be beloved? Who was so 
wise, and prudent, and confidential a counsel¬ 
lor—who, though never volunteering, was ever 
ready to impart the best advice on all the 
knotty points that puzzled the brains of the 
young people of Lenox, from the arrangement 
of a bonnet ribbon to the weightier matters 
pertaining to picnics and donation parties. 
Iler parents being dead, she kept house for 
her brother, a widower, with a pretty daughter 
about fifteen, who was acknowledged as the 
prospective belle of Lenox, and joined heartily 
with the young people of the village in loving 
Aunt Hepsey, who, although quiet and unob¬ 
trusive, would perform more real, active good 
in a week, than an ordinary woman could in 
six. 
“ Hepsey,” said Jeremiah Barton one even¬ 
ing to his sister, “ I believe you never had an 
ofier in your life.” 
« True, brother, I never did,” was her reply. 
“ Well, Aunt Hepsey, that is queer enough,’' 
said Helen, who was playing with a pet span¬ 
iel on the floor, while Aunt i Lespey was knit¬ 
ting her stockings for her. “ I am sure I do 
not know a married woman in I/inox that I 
like half so well as I do you. There is Mrs. 
drey, she has lost all her teeth and wears false 
hair, and Mrs. Stevens scolds all the time, and 
her face is all over scowls and wrinkles, and 
Mrs. Carter, who cares for nothing but balls 
and parties, and Mrs. Jones, who leaves every¬ 
thing to the servants, and Mrs.—” 
“Judge not that ye be not judged,” chimed 
in the sweet voice of Aunt Hepsey. She had 
a sweet voice, exceeding sweet, and to the 
blind she must have looked most beautiful. 
“Well, Aunt Hespey, I will not say what 
faults 1 see in most of the married ladies 
around us, but this I will say, and 1 know fath¬ 
er thinks so too, there is not a woman in the 
State who can make home as pleasant as you; 
and if a reul woman wants any higher praise 
than that, I for one woman, have no words in 
which to express it..” 
« you are right, Helen,” said her father, “ but 
I think you and I are not the only ones who 
have thought so. There was Deacon Jones, 
who wanted to offer himself to her soon after 
your mother died, but she begged me to refuse 
for her in advance, because she could not leave 
that little motherless Helen. Then there was 
’Squire Grey at the Corner, had some talk with 
me about proposing for her, but she preferred 
keeping house for her brother. But i am go¬ 
ing to speak now of an offer which she may 
receive, which she, however, must refuse for 
herself. I think it an excellent match, and if 
she will not take up witli it, she shall refuse it 
herself, and at least have it to say that she has 
actually received one offer.” 
“So, brother, it seems you are tired of my 
company,” quietly replied Miss Hepsey, at the 
same time taking up a stitch that had dropped 
in her knitting. 
“ Have it so if you will, Hepsey; but at any 
rate think it over, before you refuse our new 
minister, Mr. Harris. Why, he is a bachelor, 
not forty yet, and almost as handsome as his 
brother Willis was. See, Helen, you do not 
remember Willis Harris—oh no, lie died before 
1 was married. Well, he was a splendid look¬ 
ing fellow—open-hearted, generous, and a capi¬ 
tal scholar. His father lived in that house 
where ’Squire Green did before lie went to 
Congress, llis father was thought very rich, 
and Willis ond Harvey were both sent to Col¬ 
lege. Mr. Harris lost his property and died 
poor; and Willis left Ilarvey to go to sea, take 
care of himself, and help Ilarvey. Harvey 
has never been back here until last month. Ho 
has preached in Iowa, from the time he fin¬ 
ished his studies.” 
“Andwhere is that noble ‘Willis, father?” 
“Ah, that is the sad part of my story. He 
was succe&sful at first, but just before 1 larvey 
was to graduate, he was wrecked on his voy¬ 
age home, and instead of a brother’s greeting 
after receiving his diploma, a stranger mention¬ 
ed in his hearing that the “ Falcon” and all on 
board had gone down in a hurricane. Father 
had invited the two brothers to make us a visit 
that autumn, for I had always been very inti¬ 
mate with them both; and on hearing the news 
I hurried to meet Harvey, to offer him at least 
a temporary home, lie was dangerously ill at 
the time, and upon his recovery he was unwil¬ 
ling to revive old associations. Very happy 
was 1 to inform him that our church unani¬ 
mously chose him as its pastor, and more hap¬ 
py that he came.” 
“ But, brother, what has put it into your 
head that Mr. Harris has any thought of tak¬ 
ing a wile?” said Hepsey, her voice trembling 
slightly, and her usually colorless cheek becom¬ 
ing a shade paler. 
“ His own words. He wished to know if 
you were unmarried, and why, and if I thought 
you would ever consent to change your name 
and condition—and his face was lighted up 
with such a handsome, animated expression, 
that I could not bear to repeat to him your 
determination to remain single. So I told him 
he must talk with you about it, if he wanted to 
know. He said he would call to-morrow eve¬ 
ning and see you.” 
“Ilepsey,” said Mr. Barton at the tea- 
table, “do for once oblige me by trying wheth¬ 
er your hair will not curl as it used to when 
you was our Helen’s age. You have not worn 
curls—let me see—since your seventeenth 
birth-day. That was the day, too, that we 
heard of Willis 11 arris’death, and Harvey’s ex¬ 
treme sickness.” 
“No, brother,” replied Hepsey; “no doubt 
it would be rebellious against curling now—and 
then for an old maid to cover her face with 
ringlets would be too absurd.” 
“ Too much as if you wanted to catch the 
minister after all, wouldn’t it, aunty? laughed 
Helen; “though 1 should love to sec it curled 
once.” 
“So, aunty, you are going to marry the min¬ 
ister after all!” exclaimed Helen, running joy¬ 
ously into her aunt’s room the next morning; 
“ going to take a ride with him to-day, at any 
rate. Now let me drc.ss your hair to-day—1 
must, aunty, or I shall do some mischief. Aunt 
Hepsey fallen in love! joy! joy!” 
“ But, Helen, I have no idea of marrying 
Harvey Harris.” 
“Indeed, aunt, but! know better. Didn’t 
he stay until twelve o’clock, and didn’t I, know¬ 
ing that the minister’s last words must be some¬ 
thing dreadful good , put my head to the open 
window sill and hear him say, ‘There will be 
some surprise when you are known as Mrs. 
Harris?’ Ah, that blush! Oh, aunt, how 
pretty you look,—that curl laid so, on your 
cheek, and your eyes are so bright! I wonder, 
for my part, how you could have kept your 
hair so straight so long; all I have to do is to 
wet it and twine it over my finger so, and it 
curls sweetly! And, oh, aunty, if you have 
not got a ring on your finger!—you never wore 
one before! It is a beauty, but shockingly 
old-fashioned.” 
Ho the chatterbox Helen rattled on, as she 
dressed her aunt’s hair, and helped her prepare 
for a ride with Mr. Harris. 
“ That’s a good sensible girl, now,” said Mr. 
Barton, as his sister came into the little parlor, 
equipped for a ride; “and I never saw you 
look so handsome before, neither;” and in the 
plentitude of his joy at the idea of becoming 
brother-in-law to his friend Harvey Harris, he 
bestowed upon her a mighty kiss. 
“ Oh, aunt, just’let me peep into that locket,’ 
said Helen,—“such a beauty, but old-fashion¬ 
ed. I declare, Mr. Harris ought to have his 
taste modernized a little. 1 think he was pret¬ 
ty confident of his attractions, or he would not 
have brought two presents to give his Jirst 
call. I declare, here is a little short curl of jet 
black hair, and a long curl of brown,—that 
is like yours, but Mr. Harris’ hair is brown too, 
but little darker than yours,—that can’t be his. 
There is a mystery about it somewhere.” 
“ Yes, Helen dear, there is a mystery about 
it; all shall be solved on our return this eve- 
nin g.’’ 
o ust then the Rev. Mr. Harris drove along 
in his chaise, and after helping Hepsey in, he 
handed Mr. Barton a note, and then they drove 
rapidly away. The note read us follows: 
“ Friend Barton,— A. couple wishing me to 
marry them this cvehing, 1 have taken the lib¬ 
erty to arrange matters so as to have the wed¬ 
ding at your house, as I feel no claim upon the 
people where 1 board. As they intend residing 
in Lenox, and will prove an acquisition to our 
whole society, if it is convenient 1 would be 
glad for you to invite the people of the village 
generally, if not, let only your own family be 
present IL Harris. 
Helen was in a fever of expectation and de¬ 
light, as well as considerable of a bus le in 
preparing for an impromtu party. The village 
generally were invited, and some two or three 
had arrived, when the Rev. Mr. Harris came 
in alone. To Helen’s eager inquiries, he could 
only answer that Aunt Ilepsey would be theie 
soon, anil that the couple desired to be re¬ 
ceived by her father alone at the private en 
trance to his study. They would be there, lie 
said, at half-past seven, and in fifteen minutes 
after she might go in with him; and the cere¬ 
mony would be perf'omed in the study, and she 
and her father might introduce the new mar¬ 
ried couple to the company. 
The time at length came. She heard con¬ 
siderable bustle in the study, and at the aj>- 
pointed hour, Helen took the ministers arm 
and went into the study. There stood a dark, 
noble-looking man, whose short black curls 
were slightly flecked with silver, and—Aunt 
Ilepsey! 
In a few words the Rev. Air. Harris pro¬ 
nounced I Tepsy Barton and Willis Harris hus¬ 
band and wife, and then they were introduced 
as such to the astonished villagers. 
Willis and Hepsey loved each other almost 
from childhood. The locket and ring were 
given her by him, when he sailed for what all 
supposed was to him a fatal voyage. Both 
looked upon marriage as something too far 
hidden in the future for him to make an offer, 
so called. 
He was the only survivor of the vessel’s 
wreck, and was cast a shore on the inhospita¬ 
ble coast of Africa,—and was carried into sla¬ 
very among the savage tribes of Ethiopia— 
After a varied fortune he fell among the 
Arabs, and reached Constantinople. Two 
years spent, in trade there, made him wealthy. 
Although he received no answers to numerous 
letters he sent home, he preferred to believe 
they had been miscarried, rather than that 
friends had ceased to love him. 
He reached New York in safety, and there 
learned that his brother had just returned to 
his boyhood’s home. J le wrote to 1 larvey, re¬ 
questing him to ascertain whether Hepsey still 
remembered him, — waiting an answer at a 
house some three hours’ ride from Lenox. 
. The rest is known. 
If any one asks whether the “old maid” 
made a happy wife or not, I can only answer, 
that although ten years have passed, her ring¬ 
lets curl as well as ever, and she has not a 
wrinkle yet.— Portland Eclectic. 
THE BliOKEN-IIEARTED. 
Ahout two years ago, I took up my resi¬ 
lience for a few weeks m a country village, in 
the eastern part of New England. Soon after 
my arrival, 1 became acquainted with a young 
lady apparently about seventeen years of age. 
She had lost the idol of her heart’s purest love, 
and the shadows of deep and holy memories 
were resting like the wing of death upon her 
brow. 
I first met her in the presence of the mirth¬ 
ful. She was, indeed, a creature to be admir¬ 
ed; her brow was garlanded by the young 
year’s swietesl Bowers, and her sunny tresses 
were hanging beautiful and low upon her bo¬ 
som; and >-* moved through the crowd with 
such floating, unearthly grace, that the bewil¬ 
dered gazer looked almost to see her fade 
away into the air, like the creation of a pleas¬ 
ant dream. She seemed cheerful, and even 
gay; yet I saw that her guyety was but the 
mockery of her feelings. She smiled, but there 
was something in her smile which told me that 
its mournful beauty was but the bright reflec¬ 
tion of a tear; and her eyelids at times pressed 
heavily down, as if struggling to repress the 
tide of agony that was bursting up from her 
heart’s secret urn. She looked us if she could 
have left the scene of festivity, and gone out 
beneath the quiet stars, and laid her forehead 
down upon the fresh, green earth, and poured 
out her stricken soul, gush after gush, till it 
mingled with the eternal fountain of purity 
and life. 
I have lately heard that the young lady of 
whom I have spoken is dead. The close of her 
life was calm as the falling of a quiet stream; 
gentle as the sinking of the breeze, that lingers 
for a time round a bed of withered roses, and 
then dies for very sweetness. 
It cannot be that earth is man’s only abiding- 
place. It cannot be that our life is a bubble, 
cast up by the ocean of eternity, to float a mo¬ 
ment upon its surface, and then sink into noth¬ 
ingness and darkness. Else, why is it that the 
high and glorious aspirations which leap like 
angels from the temple of our hearts, are for¬ 
ever wandering abroad unsatisfied? Why is it 
that the rainbow and the cloud come over us 
with a beauty that is not of earth, and then 
pass off and leave us to muse on their faded 
loveliness? Why is it that the stars which 
hold the festival around the midnight throne, 
are set above the grasp of onr limited faculties, 
and forever mocking us with their unapproach¬ 
able glory? And, finally, why is it that bright 
forms of human beauty are pieseuted to the 
view, and then taken from us, leaving the 
thousand streams of alliiction, to flow back in 
an Alpine torrent upon our hearts? 
We are born for a higher destiny than that 
of earth. There is a realm where the rainbow 
never fades; where the stars will be spread out 
before us like the islands that slumber on the 
ocean; and where the beautiful beings that 
here pass before us like visions, will stay in our 
presence forever.— Geo. J). Prentice. 
mill’s Corner. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS, NO. 37. 
RMwffiiCfif 
Answer in two weeks. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
HISTORICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 36 letters. 
My !), 19, 17, 21, 36, 23 was ono of the seven 
wise men of Greece. 
My 12, 17,11, 31, 17,28 was the greatest man 
in Roman history. 
My 14,11,28,22 was an Emperor of Rome. 
My 25, 10,15, 21, 20,18 was King of Macedo¬ 
nia. 
My 1, 32, 29, 4, 27, 14, 5,31 was a cynic phil¬ 
osopher. 
My 35, 21,15,33, 13 was an ancient historian. 
My 17, G, 14, 7 was a Queen of England. 
My 17,21, 30, 3, 33, 8,24 was King of Portu- 
gab 
My 2, 6,16, 17, 31 wasa tribe of S. A. Indians. 
My 18,34, 7 was an American Poet. 
My 19,17, 13, 33, 27 was an eminent U. S. 
Senator. 
My whole was an ancient and very distin¬ 
guished Philosopher. 
Newark, N. Y. H. k. n. 
Answer next week. 
Arithmetical Problem.—A farmer wishes to 
expend $100 in the purchase of cows, sheep and 
geese. How many of each will lie purchase if 
he pays $10 per cow, $1 per sheep, and 1 2<4 
cents per goose? u. n. o. 
Humphrey, N. Y., Aug., 1854. 
Answer next week. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus No. 35 .—I flic 
Misses on horsc-back, not well ballancod, turmto 
tumblers. A 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma in No. 31.— 
May my enemies find peace, may the liberties of my 
country endure forever. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem in No. 34.— 
31. 31 + feet. 
Ml anil l)mum\ 
Solemn Thought. —We see not, in this life, 
the end of human actions; their influence never 
dies; in ever widening circles, it reaches be¬ 
yond the grave. Death removes us from this 
to an eternal world. Every morning, when we 
go forth, we lay the moulding hand on our des¬ 
tiny; and every evening, when we have done, 
we have left a deathless impress upon our 
character. We touch not a wire but vibrates 
in eternity; we speak not a word, we have not 
even a thought, which is not reported at the 
throne of God. Jxit youth, especially, think of 
these things; and let every one remember that 
in this world, where character is in its forming 
state, it is a serious thing to think, speak, and act 
Sot Back. —General Sam. Houston meeting 
Reverdy Johnson the other day in the Capitol, 
the Senator and ex-Senator very naturally 
entered into conversation about public men, 
when, speaking of Douglas, the General said 
he had been “sot back.” “Sot back,”said Mr. 
J., “ what do yoiffmean by that?” “ Why,” 
said General H., “did you never hear the sto¬ 
ry?” “ N o.” “ Well, there was a man in my 
neighborhood when I was a boy, who made it 
a rule not to allow his boys to come to the ta¬ 
ble till they were 17 years old. I le had a boy 
whom a a neighbor, who was aware of the 
father’s rule, happened to see one day sitting 
at a side-table; knowing, however, the boy was 
more than 17, he asked how it happened that 
he was still prohibited from coming to the tu- 
ble? ‘Why,’ said he, ‘when I was 17, father 
let me come, but I was so hungry, and in such 
a hurry to help myself, that I stood up and 
'reached so far, that a sad accident happened; 
whereupon my father immediately so? me back 
two year. 
A Fast Nag.— A gentleman well known in 
a celebrated sporting circle, more for good hu- 
more than straight riding, arrived home a short 
time since, in a plight which would lead to the 
conclusion that he had something better than 
a “ good thing.” 
“ What sport?” asked a friend. 
“C-a-pitall” replied our friend, emphatically. 
“Never had a better run in the whole course 
of my life! Was thrown into the first ditch, 
and it took me three hours to catch my horse!” 
“How are you, count?” said a noted wag to 
a spruce looking specimen of a genus snob at 
the-hall yesterday. 
“Sir!” exclaimed the indignant swell, “who 
are you, and why do you call me count?” 
“Why, I saw you counting oysters in New 
York last week, and I supposed you were of 
royal blood,” returned the wag. 
A chap was asked what kind of a “gal” he 
preferred for a wife. He replied, “ One that 
was not a prodi-g al, but a /ru-gal, and a fru¬ 
gal, and one that suited his conjugal taste.”— 
That’s bright 
The Liberty Society is now in full blast.— 
Question for discussion:—If a man builds a 
corn-crib, does that give him u right to crib 
coni? 
DRILLING IN WHEAT. 
Moore’s Seed Planter, oi Grain Drill. 
Patented July 2, 1850. — This valuable implement of 
husbnwiry, which has been thoroughly tested in many 
places, is used for planting Wheat, Rye, Corn, Oats, 
Barley, Beans, Ac. It operates equally well on all kinds 
of land, and is not injured by coming in contact with 
rocks, roots, Ac.; 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 
arc 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 oeing covered at any required depth, where 
overy kernel has moisture and a chance to germinate. 
Drilling Wheat.— Edward Stabler, in liisadmirablees¬ 
say on the advantage of drill seeding, slates that al ter ex¬ 
amining its results on some 800 or 1,000 acres, besides large 
experience on his own land, lie finds there is not a single 
instance where it has not proved tlie most profitable.— 
First, in ttie saving of seed, and secondly in the increased 
product of the gruin, amounting to from one to seven 
bushels to the acre. He had known the increase, in one 
case, by careful comparison of the two modes, to amount 
to nine bushels per acre in favor of di illing. He relates an 
interesting incident:—A vender ottered 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 
ttie harvest, the tanner preferred paying the hundred dol¬ 
lars for the price of a drill, witli interest. On carefully 
ascertaining the increase, lie found it to be 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 ot 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, al 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 wesev- 
erally purchased of you in 1852, works to our entire satis¬ 
faction. its simplicity, and certainty of distribution, to¬ 
gether with its cheapness, commend ii in preference to any 
Drill with which we are acquainted. Samuel Lewis, Esq., 
York, I.iv. Co.. N. Y.; Wm. W. Fletcher, Jr., Chas. Hazel- 
ton, Elijah Armstrong, Geo. W. Uhl, Learning Clark, Gen- 
eseo; Chas. Hendersliott, Andrew Boyd, Rich'd Johnson, 
Groveland. 
Extract of a lotter 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 and regu¬ 
larity of sowing, it surpasses anything of the kind hereto¬ 
fore in use among us, and we do recommend it to fanners 
as being a machine the best adapted to their wants.”— 
Signed, Wm. Linville, Lancaster Co., Penn., and thirteen 
other farmers. 
Orders will bo received for these machines by the sub¬ 
scribers, who have purchased the right to make and sell 
them in tiie Counties of Monroe, Ontario, Wyoming, and 
Livingston. 
Cash prices at the shop,—8 teeth Drills, 8 in a part, $55; 
9 teeth do., 7 and 8 in a part, $70; 10 teeth do., 8 in a part, 
■675; 11 do., 8 in a part, $S0. E. W.'HUDNUT & CO. 
Geneseo, Livingston Co., N. Y., June, 1854. 230-8t 
HOME PROTECTION. 
Txmuf.ht Insurance Company, Capital $250,000, Organized 
December 24, 1852; Chartered March 1, 1853. Homes 
only Insured by this Company. No one risk taken for 
more than $3,000. 
Many distinguished persons have insured their homes, 
t6 the amount of $3,000 each, in this Company, among 
whom are Ex-President Van Bure.y, Kinderhook; Ex- 
Governor Seward, Auburn. 
Auburn, May 16th, 1853. 
To whom it may concern :—We are personally acquainted 
with many of the Officers and Directors of the Tempest In¬ 
surance Company, located at Meridian, Cayuga Co., N. Y. 
In our opinion they are among the most wealthy and sub¬ 
stantial class of Farmers in this county. 
J. N. STARIN. 
ELMORE P. ROSS. 
THOMAS Y. HOWE, Jr. 
The above gentlemen will bo recognized as the Cashier 
of Cayuga County Bank, Auburn; Postmaster, Auburn, and 
Ex-Member of Congress, Auburn, Cayuga County. 
N. B.—The public are cautioned to bear in mind the 
name, (Tempest,) and not submit to an imposition daily 
practiced by two-by-four Mutual Co's. 
234-it T. R. TIMBY, Secretary. 
SHEEP POE SALE. 
I havk Sheep (both Bucks and Ewes,) of the following 
breeds, for sale, at reasonable prices. French and Spanish 
Merinos, pure bred ; also, crosses of the two breeds, from 
%. to %; also, Leicesters and South-Downs, pure bred, 
and crosses of the same. These Sheep are from, or de¬ 
scended from the flocks of the well known breeders of pure 
bred Sheep, Messrs. Jewett, Burritt, Avery, Wakeman, 
McIntyre, Bradie. Ac. For further particulars, addrosg 
me (post-paid) at Belleville, Jefferson Co., N. Y. 
237-4meow. E. G. COOK. 
"the wool grower ANI) stock register. 
Yol. VI. — Enlarged and Improved! 
The, Wool Growkr and Stock Register is the qnly 
American journal devoted to the important nud profitable 
branches of Wool 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, Ac. 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, Ac., the new volume will contain Pkdi- 
oreks ok Purf.-Bukd 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 best style, and Illustrated with many 
Engravings— including Portraits of Domestic Animals, 
Designs of Farm Buildings, Ac., Ac. The careful Reviews 
of the Wool and Cattlk 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; 
Five Copies for $2; Eight for $3,— in advance. Any addi¬ 
tional number at 37cents per copy. Club papers will bo 
sent to different post-oflices, if desired. Back vol¬ 
umes (well bound in paper, for mailing) furnished at 
above rates. 
XHT Now is the Time to Subscribe and form Clubs. 
Money, properly enclosed, may be mailed at onr risk, if 
addressed to 1). I). T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y. 
Mr. C. Moork, of Gerry, Chau. Co., is authorized 
to act as Agont for the Rural Nkw-Yorkkr, and for the 
Wool Grower and Stock Register, in the counties of 
Chautauque and Cattaraugus, N. Y., and Warren, 1’a. 
MOORE S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
18 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Subscription —$2 a year — $1 for six months. To 
Clubs aud Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, for 
$5; Six Copies (and ono to Agent or getter up of club,) 
for $10; Ten Copies (and ono to Agent,) for $16; 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 Anioriean 
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 $1,60 per year. 
X'fjf" Subscription money, proporly enclosed, may be sent 
by mail at the risk of the Publisher. 
•.•The postage on the Rural is but 3cents per quar¬ 
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cents to any part of the United States,— except Monroe 
County, where it goes free. 
Advertising. —Brief and appropriate advertisements 
will bo inserted at $1,60 per square, (ten lines, or 169 
words,) or 15 cents per line — in advanet. The circulation 
of the Rural New-Yorker is gcveral thousand greater 
than that of any other Agricultural or similar journal in 
America. Patent medicines, Ac., will not be advertised in 
this paper on any terms. 
%iW“ All communications, and business lotters, should 
be addressed to D. D. T. Moork, Rochester, N. Y. 
■ f TCT* + ***■ 
