268 
MOORE’S RURAL HEW-YORKER 
. iE. 
ROCK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHER. 
BY KLOREJfOli PEKCY. 
Backward, turn backward, oh, Time, in your flight, 
Make me a child again, just for to-night! 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to jour heart as of yore — 
Kiss from inv forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver thread* out of my hair— 
Over toy slumber your loving watch keep— 
Rook me to sleep, Mother—rock me to sleep! 
Backward, flow backward, oh, tide of the years! 
I am so weary of toil and of tears— 
Toil without recompense — tears all in vain— 
Take them, and give me my childhood again! 
I have grown weary of dust and decay, 
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away— 
tVeary of sowing for others to reap;— 
Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep! 
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, oh, mother, my heart calls for you! 
Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
Blossom'd and faded, our faces between— 
Yet with strong yearnings am! passionate pain, 
Long 1 to-night tor your presence again;— 
Come from the silence so long and so deep— 
Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep! 
Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No love like mother-love ever has shone— 
No other worshlp.ahides and endures 
Faithful, unselfish, am! patient, like yours— 
None like a mother cau charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain; 
Slumber'* soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep— 
Rock mo to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep! 
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
Fall on your shoulders again as of old— 
Let it drop over my forehead to-night, 
Shading my faint eyes away from the light— 
For with ita sunuy-edged shadows once more 
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore. 
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep— 
Rook me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep! 
Mother, dear mother! the years have been long 
Since 1 have listened to your lullaby soug— 
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream;— 
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
Never, hereafter, to wake or to weep, 
Rock me to Bleep, mother—rock me to sleep! 
— Jfrtii- wr v , 1 ’/ l. i \J$y• 
tow . u ■ w <f .V -1 v^stw u-w. v if- 
syii 
to 
wmm 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
TWO WAYS TO GET RICH. 
BY EMILY C. HUNTINGTON. 
[Concluded from page 260, last number.] 
Months passed away. The crimson glow of 
autumn waa cooled and quenched by the snows ol’ 
November, and, as the winter grew stronger and 
deeper, its presence was sadly felt in many a 
humble home. 
In the outskirts of the town was a Mission Sab¬ 
bath School, to which Oliver and his wife had 
been early introduced by a zealous teacher, and 
their sympathies were soon warmly enlisted 
in it. The children of the poor were gath¬ 
ered here, — a crowd of poor, neglected crea¬ 
tures, whose very bouIb seemed dwarfed and 
Btunted by the pinching poverty that bad always 
surrounded them. Most of the girls were em¬ 
ployed in the factories, in the manufacture of 
tape and bobbins, where, for the lowest wages, an 
amount of work was required of them which 
greatly overtasked their powers, and stamped 
them early with a look of age and weariness. 
Nettie Dean had been greatly interested in ft 
class of girts which she had been teaching, and 
had taken pains to trace them to their homes and 
learn something of their history. One of these 
girls, only twelve years of age, she found to be 
supporting her mother, a younger brother, and 
herself, by the small sum she earned in the fac¬ 
tory. The mother, by sewing, managed to pay the 
rent of the garret where they lived, but this was 
the utmost she could do. Little IIannaii was 
pale and thin from her close confinement and 
scanty food; she had all the gravity of a woman, 
and none of the sprigbtliness of childhood. Mis¬ 
sing her one Sabbath from her place, Nettie 
went down to her home to inquire for her. She 
found her on the bed, and, in answer to her ques¬ 
tions, Eannau told her that two days before, the 
overseer, in a fit of anger, beeause she had broken 
the threads in her work, had knocked her down, 
and, in falling, she had struck her head in such a 
way that she was curried home senseless, and 
could not yet bear her weight upon her feet. 
“The wretch!” exclaimed Mrs. Dean; “of 
course you will complain to the owners. They 
will never allow such barbarity.” 
“Indeed, ma’am,’’ said the widow, sadlj’, “it 
would do no good, and the overseer would be so 
mad be would dismiss Hannah.” 
“ But you surely will not think of sending her 
back after such abuse,’’ and Mrs. Dean looked at 
the widow in astonishment, 
“What can 1 do, ma'am? Such things happen 
every week, and nobody dares to eomplain. The 
overseers know they can take the bread out of 
our mouths whenever they please, for the owners 
can’t spend time to attend to every complaint. 
Most of them don’t even live here, and only come 
down once a year to settle with the overseer.” 
In spite of all that could be said, Hannah was 
sent back to the factory as soon as she could 
stand, but, most fortunately for her, the place had 
been tilled in her absence. 
The next Sabbath her sad face told its own 
story of trouble, and Mrs. Dean soon drew from 
her the facts in the case. But what seemed to her 
a matter of rejoicing was far otherwise to poor 
Hannah, for starvation seemed inevitable to the 
little^ family at home. Comforting her as well as 
she could, she directed her to come up to her 
house the next day, and they would see what 
could be done for her. Nettie consulted with 
her husband, and they both agreed that a com¬ 
fortable home must be found for Hannah, as the 
first step. About a mouth previous to this, 
Cyrus Bond had taken two young men into bis 
family to board, and given up the parlor to them. 
They used the room very little, he said, and as for 
the extra work of having boarders, Carrie 
thought it would not be much. There were just 
the same ceremonies to be gone through for two 
as for half a dozen, and, after all, they might just 
as well try and make housekeeping profitable, if 
they were to have the expense and trouble of 
keeping up an establishment. So they reasoned, 
and decided to take the boarders. 
Here was a chance, Nettie thought, for Han¬ 
nah, and she immediately proposed to them to 
take the child and give her a home. To be sure, 
she knew nothing of housework, but U would be 
real charity to teach lier, and she could at least 
save Mrs. Bonu a great many steps, for she 
intended hiring no help. Mrs. Bond was rather 
inclined to try her, but her husband was decidedly 
opposed, as she would be of very little use for a 
good while, and her board and clothing would 
more than counterbalance what she would be 
able to do. 
“I’ll tell you what, Nettie,” said Mr. Dean, 
“we’ll just take ber ourselves. It must be some¬ 
body’s business to do it, aud I don’t see why it 
isn’t ours. 1 believe we shall be none the poorer 
for it.” 
“You will find it a discouraging task,” said Mr. 
Bond; “these factory children are a lazy, un¬ 
principled set,and ifyousbould succeed in teach¬ 
ing this girl anything, she will leave you as soon 
as she can be of any use.” 
“Hannah is not lazy,” said Nettie Dean, 
warmly; "why, Cyrus, that girl reads and writes 
very well, and sews neatly; and how do you sup¬ 
pose she learned? After standing all day in the 
factory, she walked over a mile to an evening 
school taught by some ladies, and spent an hour 
every evening in learning to read and write.” 
“Such a girl as that is worth saving,” said Mr. 
raanently, and restrict his business to places 
nearer home. He also offered the young men 
situations in bis eastern establishment, at the 
same salaries they received when they went to 
Windsor. Neither of them were willing to ac¬ 
cept this, unless it should prove the last resort, 
but prospect# looked rather dark. 
Cyrus had less to regret in leaving Windsor 
than hi* friend; for, while Oliver had been 
adding to the value and beauty of hia home every 
year, by suiting here uad there a vine or fruit tree, 
or a blossoming shiub, Cyrus bad been carefnl to 
expend nothing upon his, except, as he jest¬ 
ingly said, a few nails, that he meant to pull out 
for old iron. He had laid up more money in the 
five years than his friend, yet the difference was 
not so very great; for over-exertion on the part 
of liis wife, in frying to do the work for a family 
of hoarders, had brought on a long sickness, from 
which she rose at last too much shattered and 
enfeebled to do even her own housework without 
assistance. The heavy biliB of the doctor and 
nurse were not grudgingly paid, yet they made 
serious inroads on the profits of the year, and 
Cyrus could but remember that Nettie had 
warningly told Carrie that the beat way for & wife 
to help her husband was to take care of her own 
health, and not let her ambition lead her to make 
herself an invalid all her life, by undertaking too 
great things at first He felt that she was right, 
and also that his friend had made a “lucky hit,” 
as be called it in taking Hannah; for the strong, 
healthy, intelligent girl of seventeen, carefully 
trained to habits of neatness, and fueling all her 
interests enlisted with the family, was a treasure 
that money could not procure. “It is only a pity 
she is so good looking,” he used to say, “for I’m 
afraid you wont find ber good to keep.” 
A brilliant speculation in the shape of a town 
site, in what was then the remote west, loomed 
up before Cyrus Bond, and after a little delibera¬ 
tion, he removed to the embryo eity with his 
family, and was soon absorbed, heart and soul, in 
the purpose of his life— money*making. 
Asnotbing better Bcemed to offer, Outer Dean 
Dean; “she will make ber mark in the world if felt himself compelled to leave his pleasant home, 
she ever gets a chance, and I mean she shall and accept of a i 
have one.” this juncture, th 
“Very well, if yon can afford it,” said Cyrus, Jacobs, he waa o 
but I have no money to risk in doubtful specula- Bank at Windsor 
tions. As for benevolence, I believe if 1 was rich filled it ant.iKf.iclo 
it would be a pleasure to me to aid others, but « You can trust 
while I am poor my charities must begin at the bankers; “1 
home.” principles. If a 
“Ah, Cyrus,” said Oliver, smiling, “that self first, and fill 
reminds me of the story my father used to tell, <j 0 nothing for tl 
about a good old deacon who was always wishing avoid,’ you may 
for wealth that he might relieve the poor. ‘Ah, hard work to live 
brother,’said a friend to him, one day, 'the Lord not die outfight.’ 
knows you too well to trust you with moneyV ” 
By a little exertion, Oliver succeeded iu rais- It is but a few 
ing a subscription to meet the widow’s rent for a laid in bis grave 
year, and Hannah was soon removed to her new the prime of life, 
home. It was, indeed, a great task to teach her one, as the mourt 
to do work so new to her, but patience conquered, “ I should not 
and it. seemed as though the grateful child was though hia fan.il 
never weary of trying to please her benefactors* has a great deal o 
It was astonishing how soon the healthful exer- every station in 
Oise find nbuudftnce of nourishing food wrought scattering good <J< 
a change in her. The thin, white face began to some of them spri 
grown fuller, and show the rosy line of health, fold.” 
and before spring ahe bad grown far beyond the They call Cykd 
dimensions of the scanty wardrobe she brought in silver and gold 
from home, and bid fair to become a robust girl. & aw hia ricbes. 
“Shoes for Hannah again,” exclaimed Cyrus, greed for gain th: 
as he saw his friend selecting a pair of 6ofl mo- tie® of her hnsba 
rocco boots with high laced tops, “how fast she harsh, grasping i 
wears them out. Why don’t you get her some dren are sleepin 
and accept of a situation at the east, but just at 
this juncture, through the influence of Captain 
Jacobs, he waa offered a responsible post in the 
Bank at Windsor, with a prospect of rising if be 
filled it satisfactorily. 
“Yon can trust him,” said the old gentleman to 
the bankers; “be bas started in life on right 
principles. If a man says, ‘I’ll take cave of my¬ 
self first, and fill my pockets at all hazards, and 
do nothing for the interests of others that I can 
avoid,’ you may be sure his honesty will have 
hard work to live through the struggle, if it does 
It i3 but a few years since Oliver Dean was 
laid in bis grave, cut down suddenly, almost in 
the prime of life. “Did be die rich?” asked some 
one, as the mourners went sadly past. 
“I should not call him rich,'' was the answer, 
though hia family arc well provided for, but he 
has ft great deal of treasure in heaven. He filled 
every station iu life well and nobly, was always 
scattering good deeds ahout bltn.and he lived to see 
some of them spring up aud bear fi uit a thousand 
fold.” 
They call Cyrus Bond a rich man, and so he is, 
in silver and gold, but the wife of his youth never 
saw his riches. She died early, a victim to the 
greed for gain that has eaten up the nobler quali¬ 
ties of her husband’s nature, aud made him the 
harsh, grasping miser he is, aud her little chil¬ 
dren are sleeping beside her, while year after 
heavy cowhide ones, or at least low shoes?—they Year, amid labor and anxiety, Cyrus Bond "heap- 
don't cost half so much as boots.” efA uj 
“ Her ankles arc* bent and weakened by stand- them.” 
ing so long in the factory when she was so young, 
and a stiff shoe is painful to her. Beside, we 
hope, by supporting the ankles, they will get 
stronger alter a while. If she had staid in that ^ n 
factory a year longer she would have been de- — ' wtl{ 
formed for life. Even now she has so little con- ^and s 
trol of ber limbs that she tumbles down stairs ^ftu t 
every few days. I never hear her approaching cable : 
the top of them without bracing my nerves for a ^ ou 
crash. She bas u faculty, though, for rolling reasoB 
down with an armful of pails and pitchers without bis he 
damaging anything or getting hurt herself.” weep I 
“After all, Olivku,” said Cyrus, “what does bevch 
it amount to? At a great deal of trouble aud abuttii 
expense you Lave bettered the condition of one not,3 in 
child, and there are probably a hundred others cboosi 
just as badly off' in that very factory; you can’t drying 
help them all, and it seems discouraging to try to Thei 
do Anything.” Wong 
“My dear fellow,” said Oliver, “if I were just know i 
drowning, I should not want a man to stop and be bap 
speculate that there were probably a hundred yen tr 
others in the same danger in different places, and k’ s * e ' 
it was impossible for him to save them all, there- aui * a 1 
fore he might as well let me go. As for the ta 'b t0 
trouble anrl expense, I am paid already. My only There 
motive at first was to relieve present Buffering, ,ies - ai 
but since then I have thought, sometimes, of the a l bou 
words, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the P eraa [ 
least ol these my disciples, ye have done it unto friendi 
me.’” Your I 
the ott 
Five years passed, and steadily the business were n 
grew and strengthened itself, and the salaries of heart. 
eth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather 
them.” 
-- 
RESERVED HUSBANDS. 
— 
What is more trying—more provoking, in fact, 
— when you are nearly dying to get at your hus¬ 
band’s sentiments upon any particular subject, 
than to have him remain as silent and impracti¬ 
cable as a dead man iu a coffin. 
You may question him and coax him, you may 
reason with him, you may entreat of him to open 
his heart to you juBt. this once, you may even 
weep before bun and tell him that you cannot be¬ 
lieve he has much regard for you if he persists in 
shutting you out from his confidence; it is all as 
nothing,—you can’t start him a peg, if he don’t 
choose to be communicative,—Ob! dear me! how 
trying it is. 
Then again, when your husband bas done 
wrong, and he knows it, and he is aware that you 
know it; and when yon feel that you can never 
be happy again until he repents and reforms, and 
you try to converse with him about it, to touch 
liis feelings, and induce him to express regret 
aud a resolution of amendment, you might as well 
talk to a bed post and expect it to answer you. 
There the immoveable thing Bits, or stands, or 
lies, and his face never changes, nor canyon read 
a thought iu his eyes. He is not angry, perhaps; 
perhaps he is a man who never gets angry at his 
friends; but neither is he pleased or interested. 
1’our words go in at one of his ears and out at 
the other, making no more impression than if they 
were not forced with pain ont from your aching 
the two young men were considerably increased. 
Then came an ebb in the tide of prosperity—a 
Truly it is encouraging talking to “silent part¬ 
ners;” truly it is refreshing to pour out all your 
year of blight and drouth, that cut off the crops joyB and sorrows into the ears of a man who f rait ki„g privilege 
it._- it . _ a _ .t a«_ e. _ i_i. , a . i __ . _ __ i* __i___ a _t . r a. *_ .t l * t , 
escape the haunting and tormenting fear that the 
reason why ber husband will not freely talk with 
her is because he fears to do so lest he convict 
himself of secret evil towards her? If faith to 
her were written all over the walls of his soul, (as 
over hers are written faith and love to him,) would 
he not rejoice to throw it open for her inspection? 
Most certainly be would. Though there are se¬ 
crets of other people, which neither husband nor 
wife have any right to repeat to each other, yet 
between them, as between lovers, there should be 
perfect confidence as fur as matters appertaining 
to each other, or affecting each other’s interest, 
are concerned. Without this free and loving in¬ 
terchange of thought, feeling and sentiment, 
there may be the wild and fleeting pleasure of 
passion, but there can be no trustful, peaceful 
love. 
When you look for a huBband, ladies, cast away 
the idle notion that a Bilent man is sure to be a 
wise one. That is the rock on which many split, 
so do not you; but seek for a man cbeerfuh 
genial, open-hearted; whoso tongue runs frankly, 
openly and kindly, and of whose real feeling and 
thought you may have some way of judging. 
Thus you may hope always to know how you stand 
with your husband, and to take some comfort 
talking with him. 
lUit anil {junior. 
The orator who deals largely in quotations 
speaks volumes. 
A lady’s home-dress ought to last a long while; 
she never wears it out. 
A hungry man does right well to eat the egg, 
for he might starve before it got to be a pullet. 
“William, I am fascinated with Miss Million.” 
“With her personal charms?”—“Yes ,purse and 
all charms.” 
There is a lady in New York so ignorant of 
all domestic work that she cau not even knit 
her brows. 
Bovs should be very carefnl how they steer 
their life-barks, if they would arrive without 
shipwreck at the Isle of Man. 
Why are the rifle volunteers like Nelson?—Be¬ 
cause the last thing he did was to die for his coun¬ 
try, and that is the last thing they intend to do. 
An Irish student was once asked what was 
meant by posthumous works. “ They are such 
works,” said Paddy, “ as a man writes after he is 
dead.” 
When Jemima went to school she was asked 
why the noun bachelor was singular? “Because,” 
she replied, “it is so very singular that they don’t 
get married!” 
We always admire the answer of the man, who, 
when asked how old he was, answered, “Just 
forty years; but if you count by the fun I’ve seen, 
1 am at least eighty.” 
A young lady, playing at cards, put down the 
ace of hearts, observing, “That’s my heart.” 
Upon which the gentleman with whom she was 
playing, trumped it, rejoining, “ You see it is now 
mine; for I own no other.” 
A doting mother of a waggish boy having 
bottled a lot of nice preserves, labeled them, 
“Put up by Mrs. Poo.” Johnny having discov¬ 
ered Ibe goodies, soon ate the contents of one 
bottle, and wrote on the bottom of the label, “ Put 
down by Johnny Doo.” 
Our Cincinnati astronomers,by the use of their 
big glass, have settled, conclusively, that what 
have been supposed to be lunar volcanoes are 
nothing but big fires in the moon for trying out 
hog’s fat, and, that what have been taken for seas 
aud lakes are neither more nor less than capa¬ 
cious reservoirs of lard oil. 
Recent discoveries at Herculaneum have en¬ 
larged the fragments of the classical writers of 
antiquity, and corrected Mother Goose’s Melodies 
in many particulars. Among others the follow¬ 
ing classical morceau shows how the terseness 
and elegance of the ancients has been degraded 
in a modern proverb, 
“ While some are contented with chewing the string, 
The proof of the padding is eating the thing.” 
S. M. 
Ye Doctor. —The following amusing hit at the 
Professors of the healing art, we find in the 
Nevada Journal : 
“In ancient pictures and ballads, medical doc¬ 
tors are many times represented as having their 
canes to their noses; and some have thought this 
to be emblematic of ye length of their bills; but 
ye truth in ye matter is that anciently doctors 1 
carried canes the whyche were hollow at ye time 
and contayned a subtile powder of great virtue, 
ye odor of whyche was thought soverein against 
such diseases as be considered infectious. Thus 
in ye following described, whyche was without 
doubt a melancholi case, we see ye doctor has re¬ 
course to hys preventive powder ; 
‘Ye doctor came and smelt hys cane, 
Then shook hys head and smelt again.’'’ 
Curious Developments!— A letter picked up on 
the sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue / Aston¬ 
ishing Fraud! ! Total depravity! as regards the 
® 1,1 JF 
- „ 
am 
through the country, and the farmers looked at 
each other with anxious faces and thought of 
poverty and famine. No harvest filled the empty 
barns and granaries, — and day after day the 
freight trains came thundering into Windsor and 
left soauty burdens at the receiving store, till by 
and by there came a time when busy speculators 
bad seized upon ibe hi 9 tbusknl of grain that could 
be procured in the region. Time hung heavily 
upon the hands of the youDg men, as they waited 
anxiously to see what the result of this would be. 
At last a letter came from their employer. Colonel 
Morton, saying that he had bought largely in 
anticipation of high prices in the spring, and as 
the store was now a clear expense upon his hands, 
he should close it lor a year at least, perhaps per- 
makes no return of confidence; truly it is delight¬ 
ful to abide always, or most of the time, on the 
windowless outside of the heart of one’s own hus¬ 
band, or one’s friend, who is so near and dear, 
that one never thought of refusing to him the lib¬ 
erty of one’s soul in all its moods, even in the 
most secret.' Oh! these proud, self-willed, and 
silent men. They are really terrible! Who 
wouldn't rather dwell in a region where now and 
then a tornado swept the land than in one cursed 
by perpetual silence? 
He whose heart is kind, and pure, and true, needs 
not to fear to speak truly into the ears of those 
who love him. How, then, can a woman who is 
never-able to gain a view in the heart of him up¬ 
on the breast of whom her head is pillowed, 
[COPY.] 
Pike’s Peak, Jan. 11, I860. 
-, M. C., Washington. 
Dear Sir: —Your highly esteemed favor of the 
Cth ultimo, is received and contents (steam en¬ 
gine in good order) noted. I inclose yon the de¬ 
sired commission. Please send immediately fifty 
tons anvils, which are in great request, aud ten 
tons best wrought steel, I trust you will take de¬ 
cision to visit New York as soon as convenient, 
to make these purchases, and draw on me at Me¬ 
tropolitan Bank as before. I find great profit 
from your franking these goods. 
Very respectfully, - -.* 
•The P. M. General has requested us to suppress 
the names. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I AM composed of 27 letters. 
My 1,13,14, 3, 24, 2ft Is a village in Central New York. 
My 2,18, 3,10, 8 are article* much worn. 
My 20, 27,16,19, 26 is a kind of grain. 
My 27, 3, 11, 8,10 is a domestic animal. 
My 22,10, 6, 8,17 is a u article used in baking. 
My 9, 21, 7, 16 signifies to decrease. 
My 22,16,23 !s the name of an evergreen tree. 
My 4,10, 21,14,16,12 is a small animal. 
My 6,11, 3, 22 is a city in New York. 
My whole is a wise saying, G. J, Mokriso.v. 
Five Corners. Cayuga. Co,, N. Y., 1800. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 16 letters. 
My 3,1,6, 13, t>. 8 )g a county in Ohio. 
My 8,6, 8,13. 0 is a county in Missouri. 
My 11, 8, 9, 12,1, S is a town in Arkansas. 
My 1ft, 8,12, 2,13, 6 is a county in Ohio. 
My 13, 6, 0 .13, 8. 6, 8 is a town in Pennsylvania. 
My 7, 4 IS, ft is a town in Austria. 
My 3, 4. 1ft, SI 1 b a river in Austria. 
My 10, 8,12 is a river in North Carolina. 
My 10, 4, 9,13, 5 is a town in New York. 
My 14, 9, 8, 6,10 is a county in Wisconsin. 
My whole is tho name of a famous inventor. 
Glendale, Ohio, 1860. I. M. C. 
CT Answer in two weeks. 
CHARADE. 
Mv situation is in flowery meads, 
Or where the thicket oft extends its shades; 
Sometimes upon a rising hill I'm found, 
And sometimes T am seen on level ground; 
Yet care and art do both combine to place 
My wondrous form remote from human race, 
Ye prying youths, in mystic lines explore 
What oft in woods and groves you’ve sought before. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOMETRICAL PROBLEM. 
Required the distance between the sides of two equi¬ 
lateral triangles whose sides are parallel, the one inscrib¬ 
ed within a circle, and the other circumscribed ahout it, 
the latter being 50 feet on each side. 
Verona, Onei. Co., N. Y., 1S60. S. G. Cagwin. 
Of” Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN NO. 551, 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:—The Niagara Sus¬ 
pension Bridge. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus:—Lane & Paine, apothe¬ 
caries, 18 Buffalo street, Rochester. 
Answer to Arithmetical Problem:—John, $1,500; Jacob, 
$500. 
Answer to Charade:—The letter O. 
Qlhucvtiscmcnts. 
“ j)OWlSr WITH VOUR DUST!” 
HERRICK’S IIVIPROVED PATENT 
C A TA pet S W EEPEH. 
To IIOt'BKKEBRRRS, Dust is a nuisance and a destroyer! 
It begrime your carpets, covers your furniture, tarnishes 
your picture*, soil* your books, defaces your certains, fills 
jour nostrils, and cb f, k e a up your lungs Its place is out of 
doors, but bow lo get it there is lire question? Bridget, 
With brush and broom, burls it into the air, and then, with 
duaWr ot cloth or leather, whirls it about again; like a dis¬ 
turbed swarm of flies the cloud setiles down again, and two 
r’ep* backward* to three forward is a type of the r»*Milf.— 
“ Is there no help Yes! C.ie lit tut ■' 
pkt SwuKi'Kk ; it takes to duet as a kitten does to atom; 
it will lap your carpet clean and not raise a mote large 
enough to glisten iu a sunbeam It i„ quite siin pie iu n j 
construction, and the eraeraldist girl lrom the “green isle” 
can use it without difficulty. 
CHAS. A B SHEPARD, 8a Broad St , Boston. 
For sale by BROWN & WILLIAMS, Rochester, N. Y. 
“QET THE BEST!” 
WEBSTER'S UNABRIDGED DICTIONARY. 
NEW PICTORIAL EDITION. 
1,500 Pictorial Illustrations. 
9,000 to 10,000 NEW WOlillg In tl,e Vocabulary. 
Table of SYNONYMS, by Hrof. Goodrich. 
Table giving l*roniutc-luUon of Dumps of 8,000 distin¬ 
guished [Kraus of Modern Time a. 
Peculiar use of W ord* «uid Terms In Ibe Bible. With 
other new features, together with all the matter of 
previoua editions. 
In on© Volume of 1750 Pages. 
PRICE $6^0. SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
“GET THE BE SI" UE7 WEBSTER. 
649-eow G. & C. J1EKR1AM, Springfield, Mass. 
QTEEO. IMAItVf*.— We are manufacturing for the spring 
hr trade large number* of our Mohawk Valley Clipper 
Plows, with steel mold-board and land-side, with steel or 
cast point, as desired, and would refer you to the following 
persons, who have them in use: 
John Johnston, Geneva, N. Y. 
J. Ingersoll, lUou, N. Y. 
Wm. Summer, Pumaria, S. C. 
R. C. Ellis. Lyons, N. Y 
Col. A. J. J-uouner, Long Swamp, Florida 
A. J. Bowman, Utica, N Y. 
A Bradley, Mankato, Minnesota. 
F. Mac,kie, Utica, N. Y. _ ,< 
We are also manufacturing Savre's Patent Horse Hoe ana 
Potato Covering Machine, h'.n re's Patent Cultivator Teeth 
in quantities for the trade, and oil kinds of. steel and swage 
work in the agricultural line. Bend for a circular. 
REMINGTONS, MARKH43I k CO 
646-lam-tf Caion Agricultural Works, Uion, N * • 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LARGEST CIRCULATED 
Agricultural, literary and Family Weekly, 
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY 
D. D. T. MOURE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Building Opposite the Court House, Buffalo St. 
TERMS IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year—$ 1 for six mouths. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, for $5< ^ 1X > an '- 
one free to club agent, for $lt); Ten, and one free, lor fl*. 
Fifteen, HDd One free, for $21; Twenty, and one free, tor f 2ft, 
and any greater number at same rate —only $!>-'' ,Hi ' r co1 ’^ *; 
—with an extra tree copy for every Ten subscriber* over 
Twenty. Club papers sent to different Post-offices, if de- , 
sired. As we pre-pay American postage on papers rent to jj 
the British Provinces, our Canadiau sgeph and friends A 
must add 12>, cts. per copy to the club rates of the Ri kal. o 
The lowest price of copies sent to Europe, &c., is $2,ft0 J 
including postage. 
For Advertising Terms, see preceding page. _ 
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