a 
A* 
A SCORE OF YEARS AGO. 
Dows by the breaking waves we stood, 
Upon the rocky shore: 
The brave waves whisper'd courage, 
And bid with friendly roar 
The falt'ring words that told the tale 
I dared not toll before. 
1 ask'd, if with the priceless gift, 
H»r love, ray life she'd bleas. 1 
Was it her voice, or some fair wave— 
For sooth, 1 scarce may gueSB— 
Some murmuring wave, or her sweet voice, 
That lisp'd so sweetly “yes." 
And then, In happy silence, too, 
1 clasp'd her fair wee hand; 
And long wo stood there, carelessly, 
While o'er the darkening land 
The sunset and the fishing boats 
Were sailing from the strand. 
It seems not many days ago— 
Like yesterday—no more, 
Since thus we eteod, my lore and I, 
Upon the rocky shore; 
But I was four and twenty l/un, 
And now I'm forty-four. 
The lily hand Is thinner now, 
And in her sunny hair 
I see some silvery lines, and on 
Her brow some lines of care; 
But, wrinkled brow, or silver locks, 
She's not one whit less fair. 
The. fishing boats a score of years 
Go sailing from the strand; 
The crimson sun a score of years 
Sets o'er the darkened land; 
And here to-night upon the cliff 
We’re standing hand in hand. 
“ M.y darling, there's our eldest girl, 
Down on the rocks below; 
What’s Stanley doing by her side?” 
My wife says, “ You should know; 
He’s telling her what you told me 
A score of years ago.” Once a Week. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker ] 
MY AUTOGRAPH. 
BY BVAN KENYON, JR. 
[Concluded from page 388, last number.] 
That evening wo had a gay time at the Star 
Bouse. The boarders assembled In the drawing 
room, and we passed the evening till a late hour 
in music and pleasantry. Miss Lipscomb seemed 
to avoid mo, though more than usually gracious 
to others. I was cut to the heart, and begged io 
know “the head and front of my offending,” as 
Bbakbpearb says. 8he assured me of her regard, 
and condescended to play a game of chess with 
me, aaying that we should then he more retired 
from the crowd. 
I found her quite expert at the game, but as she 
gave it her whole attention, thus excusing herself 
from conversation, I soon tired of it What I 
wanted was to study her, not chess, 
“Do you know,” said I, “that a gentleman in 
this house was robbed last night, of hills and 
money to a large amount?” 
“Yes,” she said, “ most of ns knew it this morn¬ 
ing. Our hostess (old the ladies. She says he 
does not wish anything said about it at present” 
“Have they any suspicions of the servants?” 
said I. 
“None, I think,” she answered, scanning the 
board attentively, and changing the subject im¬ 
mediately. 
Just then our landlady, Mrs. It, approached us 
and said, 
“My dear Miss Lipscomb, are you aware that 
you have left your room door open? Yon should 
he more careful. Remember you are in New 
York.” 
“0, well,” answered Miss Julia, gaily, “I think 
I am Bafe. I have no jewelry, except a watch, 
which I always Carry with me, and I am sure no¬ 
body but myself would wear my dresses.” 
I thought I would hazzard one more shot 
“Spcukingof robbery,” I said, “I am happy to 
inform you that the business on which 1 came to 
New York is nearly finished,—we now think wo 
have a clue to the Kelso nnd Cameron affair.” 
I was looking at her. She raised her head wiih 
a sudden motion, and the glance she gave me was 
one of mingled inquiry and surprise. The ex¬ 
pression was transient, but like a flash it called 
to mind the yonng man whom I had seen as 1 
came through Spring street 
“ YeB,” I continued, without giving her time to 
reply, “ I shall now return to St Louis very soon. 
—perhaps I may have the pleasure to accompany 
you part of the way. When do you leave?” 
“ That will depend on my brother. Wo expect 
him to morrow. If he comes, we shall leave the 
next day.” 
I thought her voice faltered a little, and her 
face flushed deeply. 
“ It is so warm,” she said, “ I think I will go to 
my room. I shall not need to finish our game, 
for, see, I should check-mate you in the next 
move.” 
“I see,” said I,taking her hand and pressing it 
gently, “yon play a deep game, Miss Julia.” 
She gave me a keen look, and left the room. At 
breakfast bIio did not appear, but I did not lose 
heart on that account. 
My room adjoined Miss Lipscomb's on one side, 
her father's on the other. They had formerly 
formed a suite, the doors which connected them 
still remaining. I lay awake a good part of that 
night, planning and speculating. My bed stood 
near the partition wall, but a step from the con¬ 
necting door. People were always coming and 
going in toe night, though not as many as from 
some other hotels. About twelve o’clock, when 
moat of the boarders were sound asleep, I heard a 
MOORE’S RURAL MEW-YORRRR. 
waiter knock at Mr. Lipscomb's door, and inform 
him that his son had arrived. A few moments 
after I heard the waiter usher that important 
personage to liis father's room, lie was met at 
the door with a slap on the shoulder, and a— 
“ How are you, Tommy, my dear boy! Safe and 
sound, eh?” 
That waB all for some time. Then I began to 
bear, or fancy I heard, a low murmur in the room 
between. I thought it must be a devoted brother, 
who could not wait till morning to see his sister. 
Wishing if possible to bco Bueh a model, I arose 
and applied my eye to the key-hole of her door. 
It was filled with paper, but I could see a light in 
the crack at the threshold. I could faintly dis¬ 
tinguish the voices of all three within. With a 
slight push with my finger, I could have put the 
paper through, but that would never do. I had a 
pair of tweezers, and with them I succeeded in 
drawing it out ou my side, though with sufficient 
noise to occasion tho new comer to say,— 
“ What the deuce is that?” 
I looked through the keyhole, but for some 
time saw not a soul. They were evidently near 
together at one side of the room. I heard paper 
rustle and leaves turned. Presently some one 
crossed tho room to examine the door into the 
entry. Judging by the legs, I guessed it to be the 
brother. In his hand was Miss J ulia’s autograph 
book, open at a bine leaf. 
I had wiUteri on a blue leaf. A queer time of 
night to bLow her brother my autograph. 
“ Here, in this house, did you say?” asked Mas¬ 
ter Tommy; and Miss Julia answered,— 
“ Yes, here.” 
“That’s bad. No, not so bad either,” replied bo. 
There was some more talk in muffled tones, then 
father and son made their exit by tho door of 
their room, which was directly opposite that in 
mine. Miss Julia, inarieh dressing-gown, arose 
arid locked it. Hiie was handsomer than ever, m 
dishabille. Turning, she faced me,—her wrapper 
hung open, and her first step displaced as mascu¬ 
line a limb as l ever beheld. 
1 was never busier than on the day following 
this discovery. I wonder I did not faint* I got 
to bed more dead than alive, and did not sleep 
much. 
Directly after breakfast I mude my appearance 
at the house or) the corner of Spririg street. I 
greatly feared that. I was on Tom Fool’s errand; 
hut the door w as opened by the girl I w-as in pur¬ 
suit of, and that was something. 1 entered im¬ 
mediately, and without, more ado, asked her if she 
knew a lady named Julia Lipscomb. Bheevinced 
no surprise, and said she did not,—never heard of 
her. 
“ Very well,” said T, “do you know a delicate 
looking young man, with lame biueeyes and curly 
brown hair,—golden brown?” 
She blushed, and said she knew several similar 
ones. 
“ I mean the one who called here on Tuesday,” 
said 1 confidently. “You know you stood talk¬ 
ing with him at the door when tw o men drove by, 
and you went to the corner to look after them. 
Don’t you remember only three days ago?” 
“Well, what if I do?” she asked nervously. 
“Why nothing, only one of those gentlemen has 
something to say to him, as ho ean do him a great 
service, and he would like to know where he ean 
see him.” 
“One of those gentlemen,” said she. thrown off 
her guard, “knows where to find him, I fancy, 
when he wants him.” 
"0,” said I, "you mean Mr. Lipscomb. I mean 
his friend, Mr. WasHBU asr, of St. Louis. Didn’t 
your young friend, or lover, perhaps, mention 
him ?” 
“ I don’t know what yon mean,” she said, petu¬ 
lantly. “ You have probably mistaken the person.” 
“ How can that be, my child?” I spoke gravely, 
for she was not over sixteen, and I pitied her, 
“Yon just said that one of the gentlemen knew 
him. Now, I was the other, and ns I know who 
was with me, how ran 1 be mistaken in tills?” 
8he looked puzzled, and a little frightened, 
“Let, me sit down somewhere, and I will tell 
you all about it,” said 1, aud she showed me into 
a neat back room, plain even to poverty. 
“Now-,” said I, “ i know only purl of the story, 
and guess part. This young man passes himself 
off for a woman. Perhaps yon know that?” She 
said nothing, but trembled violently. 
“ This young man w rites a great deal, and keeps 
a book, which ho gets gent-lemon who are rich to 
write their names in. Then he and his pretended 
father and brother talk over these names in their 
rooms. In the menntiine, stores, hotels, private 
houses, are robbed; forgeries are committed, and 
this young man seems to know nothing about it.” 
Tire poor tiling’s eyes stared and stared at me, 
and though the tears stood in them, they did not 
fall. 
"Now, my dear, you sec something must he 
done, and if you can tell me anything, you had 
hotter tell if, for before night the young man will 
bo with those who will make him tell all lie knows.” 
“0, sir!” she cried, “tell me what they will do 
to him. They oan’t prove anything.” 
“ I am afraid they can,” said 1. “ He will go to 
States Prison, probably. Perhaps, though, you 
ean tell me something that will help me to save 
him. I will, if I can.” 
“Will you? Are you his friend? O, if my 
mother were only here to tell me what to do. 
Gon forgive me if 1 do him wrong.” 
“ Where is your mother?” 
“ Gone out to sew. We work for the slop-shops.” 
“ Have you no money?” 
“ Only this, CnARi.KYgave me this to-day.” 
She showed me a hill, which I took and exam¬ 
ined. It was a two dollar hill on the-Bank of 
Albany. 1 took out my note-book, and found that 
tho number corresponded with that, of the lowest 
one of those stolen from oar hotel two nights 
before. Here was something, truly. I gave her 
three dollars In change, and retained the bill, 
telling her there was a discount on it, and she 
would be troubled to pass it. 
Little by little 1 drew from her their humble 
family history. T1 D poor. Her 
father had been a drunkard and gambler, con¬ 
nected with men hardened in vice. Her mother 
was of a different stamp; honest, industrious and 
ambitions,—more for ner children than herself. 
Both her children were intelligent und hand¬ 
some, the boy eminently so. Itut no one took 
them by the hand, and they struggled in the 
slough of sin and poverty, which swallows half 
the children of great, cities. The boy was preco 
clous, and took to bad company, as if by nature, 
yet, withal, he had the elements of a gentleman 
in him. He had a talent for writing und drawing. 
His mother got him apprenticed to an engraver, 
but evil associate* surrounded him, and he was 
discharged from hi* employment. Ho grew inti¬ 
mate with a yonng fellow, older by some years 
than himself, and whom Tommy Lipscomb greatly 
resembled. He talked of him at home, calling 
him "a splendid buck, with heaps o’money, and 
not afraid to spend it,” 
lie often laughed about the boys calling him a 
girl in boy's clothes. He said laa new friend de¬ 
clared himself In love with him. 
Poor Charley was not fifteen when he disap¬ 
peared, and bis mother and sister heard no more 
of him for a long time. When he returned, he 
was pale and older looking. He had lived much 
in two years. Hud been to Culifornia and thro’ 
the Southern States; made “lots o’money,” (he 
did not soy how,) and was going to England with 
a gentleman who had taken a great deal of pains 
with his education. 
That was all they knew, till now he had sudden¬ 
ly returned again, coming from, they knew not 
where. 
Other than this I could gain no information, 
save that he had told his sister that he had n 
handsome trunk, and several silk dresses, which 
he would send her after be left New York. 
The Inside of that trunk I was determined to 
see. tin reaching my lodgings, I found that Miss 
Lipscomb still kept her room, and that they had 
or dot od the back to convey them to the Railroad 
Depot in time for the first morning train. I had¬ 
n’t much time to work. 
I requested our polite hostess to invite Miss 
Julia to favor ns with some music in tho even¬ 
ing, as It was tier last evening with us. Very 
graciously she accepted, and was accompanied by 
both her father and brother, the latter a black- 
eyed, snobbish-looking fellow, with a profusion 
of black moustache and beard. 
I had borrowed of the landlady the key of the 
door which opened into my room, and while Miss 
Julia sang, I withdrew to reconnoiter. Her 
largo traveling trunk i found open in various 
places, with a few things scattered about, as some 
young ladies are apt to leave their wardrobe; 
but I thought the display rather ostentatious. It 
seemed useless to search, for the different com¬ 
partments were easily seen, and were filled with 
feminine finery. 
1 lifted the bonnet box, and was about to re¬ 
place it. when I was struck with the disparity be¬ 
tween the depth of the Inside and the outside. 
Taking out the bonnet, I tapped upon the bottom, 
and it sounded hollow; hut no slide, no opening 
was visible. 1 turned it every way but inside out. 
The bottom was painted, while tbc rest was either 
leather or papered wood. I wondered that 1 had 
not noticed that morp particularly. Placing it 
on the floor, bottom upwaid, (laid my band on it, 
and moved it backward and forward! It certain¬ 
ly slipped one way. Again I tried, and harder. It 
slid out like the ltd of a cigar box, and there lay 
a pile of papers of variuus sorts. On several 
sheets were patterns of lettera in different lan¬ 
guages, such us engravers use as copies. On 
others were portions of these transcribed, with 
remarkable accuracy, with pen aud ink. There, 
too, lay the autograph book, aud several sheets of 
paper thickly filled with atiiking fan similes of 
some of the signatures. One whole page was 
filled with the name of Witiijnoton Washburn, 
ho like the copy that I should scarcely have kuown 
the difference. There were a few packages of 
bills, some of which belonged to the gentleman 
boardiug in the house, und some, to my great, joy, 
were the property of Km so and Cameron. 
The game was up now,—the secret of MisB 
Julia’s inky linger fully explained. 
Replacing all things except the bills, as I found 
them, 1 returned to the drawing-room, and paid 
due attention to ihe performance of the divine 
Julia until the party retired, 
They intendeu to be gone before I was up, but 
I wus down stairs before them, and requested the 
pleasure of accompanying Miss Lipscomb to the 
cars. Her brother scowled, and her father did 
not look well pleased, but I went. I wished to 
spare our house the disgrace of the arrest At 
the Depot wc were met by a posse of our atten¬ 
tive police, who, notwithstanding the earliness of 
Hie hour, escorted ail hands Of us to tho office of 
the Chief, 
Of course the LirscoMRR,—father and son, who, 
hy-tho-way, were only related thro’ Adam and his 
sins,—weie furnished with snog quarters at Sing- 
Sing. On divesting the young man of his profuse 
growth of hair, Mr. Kelso had no difficulty In 
recognizing him as the late applicant for employ¬ 
ment in his office. 
The confession of the boy Charley, brought 
to light other confederates, and considerable 
missing property. He saved himself by telling 
all ho knew, orh*. n’,e flit id I knew it be fora baud; 
and through tho Uifltieuvo of Mr. Kelso and the 
real Mr. Washburn, be was rescued from the 
ruin which 1 ten red bad already overtaken him. 
He and his mother and sister have lived in St. 
Louis these fifteen jeais or more, und as no one 
knew his real name, it is not disgraced there, but 
it is known only as that of a superior engraver. 
lU it nuii junior. 
[Oea artist liaa recently had his mind considerable exer¬ 
cised by observing the culling manner in which sundry 
low-priced weekly papers are made up from the Rural 
Nkw-YoUKic* and other expensively conducted journals. 
Tic professes to have discovered that most of the so-called 
cheap papers are either ro-printu of dailies, or edited with 
pens formed like unto shears and scissors — a labor-raving 
invention which, though not altogether new, is ahead of 
the slieep-shoaring machine, for it enables the operator, 
in many Instance*, to ho dingo ire the lleece an to effectually 
pull the wool over the eyes of his readers. Of courae theae 
" suppers and miner*,” who ruthlessly ateal and ure aa 
original, (or borrow without giving credit,) the beat articles 
from leading journals, have *o little occaaioufor ink, Ac., 
that their writing material* are “laid on the ahelf” and en¬ 
veloped in cobwebs. Hu hus endeavored to illustrate his 
notion on the subject in the annexed cut and dialogue:] 
HOW THEY MAKE CHEAP WEEKLIES, 
Old Scissors— (to as-islants) —“Cut fast now, ami a few 
more borrowed urliclea will do the business. Don’t give 
credit (except Ex.) to any article horn Mookk's Rural, or 
any oilier popular paper.” 
Little. Scissors — (more wordy than wise)—“Should this 
snow-storm continue, wo will fail to issue our next num¬ 
ber, t fear, because yon know the mail-train won’t be able 
to get through with tho exchangee.” 
[Old Scissors looks awful wrathy, and does not feel a hit 
better as the printer’s devil pops his head in at the slide, 
and sings out in an exceedingly insinuating manner, 
“ Moore copy") 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
AND ONE OF ITS IMITATORS. 
Three weeks ago a sense of duty and justice to the 
Press, the People, And the Rural New-Yorker, con¬ 
strained US to indite and publish the following article: 
Not this Paper— but a Politico-Agricultural one.- 
While in N«w York city, recently, two or Hire* parties in¬ 
formed n* that they had heard of our offering the Ritual 
N lSW-YoitKKK, for clubbing with country pnpwr*, at fifty 
cents a year, and wished to know if such wo* tho fact. As 
wo bad never offered our paper to the pres*, even for the 
purpose named, at leu than The lowest Club rate, we of 
course promptly denied 111- sift impr icPment. We are 
not doing that kind of hnsineve, and suspect our inquiring 
Iriendshave got matters * Imjo mixed. Reckon they must 
refer to the Rural —-, a paper starlet! several years ago. 
Somewhat in imitation of tin- jour.-ml in form, Ac [t com¬ 
mence. » weekly, but wm, if we rnra-mbt-r <-• rTScOj', 
soon changed to a semi-monthly We think it ■- now 
issued weekly again — though we are not pi vitlve, for we 
have not seen a number in over a year, (leaving elri ken it. 
from our exchange fiat lung ago, for pirating tip, n our 
pages and giving no credit ) It i*. or was, a great r aver, in 
it- peculiar way - lull wc don’t think It will succeed In per¬ 
manently substituting iteelf for n dozen copies <>! Si-ricul- 
tnral journals in as many years, if fall I» judged, indeed, 
WC Hippos* the fact to be that it i* a Political gayer \r> the 
pu i*e rtf an agricultural journal—''Ve iling the iirerr of 
Heaven to serve the devil in' for we have a Circular to 
Poid-Hmder*, TiMued *omo time ago,) wherein it* claims 
are urged, and favor sought, on llie gr> u od of being an ad¬ 
vocate of certain political principle, j and it verv innocent¬ 
ly adds that such doctrines can be more -m ce»*follv inrtil- 
e.-ited in a rural than an avowed political piper! ITbo 
Circular alluded to was sent ui by a P. M. who did not 
fancy its tenor, with a request to expose the “fc'll."] Tills 
was an "artful dodge," to be sure. How many other* have 
emanated from the some source we wot not: but the offer 
to country paper h belong* tn the name entegorr. Wc «u*. 
peck however, (bat the conductor* of the prew are a little 
loo shrewd to he thus indneed to club with and commend 
such a publication — thrmgh we observe that one of our 
friend* tux “ pnt hi* foot in it,” sukte deep. 
-Lei it 1 m> distinctly undcrr-stood. I y both Pre»* and Peo¬ 
ple, thnt we base the claims or the Kt'KAi NEW-YORKER 
upon lie inrriiii and intrinsic naive alone, in»t*-nd of mere 
else or price —are! moreover that we do not wish 1[ mixed 
or confounded with any Other “Rural.” Thai’s all we ask 
111 the premise*. 
Through the kindne** of an Oneida Co. friend and 
agent of thi* journal, we have been favored with Miner’s 
Rural American of the 24th nit,, which contains a very 
logical, elegant, and withal, amnsing rejoinder to the 
above—a reply eminently worthy its source, and so rich 
that wo cannot forbear giving ltentire, verbatim rt litera¬ 
tim , etc. A* a specimen of "strong writing," It Is note¬ 
worthy, being in the powerful, argumentative, eloquent, 
persuasive and refined language which hereinafter fol- 
loweth, to wit, namely: 
The Rural New-Yorker. 
tVe learn that Moore, of the Rural New- Yorker, has 
fpoums frequently, in view of the great popularity and ex¬ 
tensive circulation of the Rural American! Poor li-l'ow I 
Fie I* to be pitied; but we do not think it exactly expedient 
to abandon our buairio**, just to pie arc him. («) 
It Is* pleasure to deal with siji-h men a* MeK-rw Tucker 
A Son, oftlie “Country (jentlrninii,'' who are lie ntlcmcn.n* 
well aa scores of other agricultural editors: nut Moore is 
one of your niggardly. me»n fellows, who has n soul no 
larger than the point - f « need I". We v PI give an example 
of the li>|]ow“ model” transaction* \b) 
Some year* ago lie took offense *t our critici«tn» of arti¬ 
cle* in joe paper or. i!oinentb Towle, arid ,topped rending n* 
hi* paper a* an exchange. We then enclosed #2 In a letter, 
rent it to him, fertile piper a year, as wc were keeping files 
of all such paper* nnd ne did not care a tig whether he 
would exchange: with ns or no*. Well, the “model'' editor 
sent the money back, refusing to rend id* purer for Ibe 
rash, and put ux to the expense of 10 cents postage, on 
his letter (r) 
Another instance n( tbi* "model" publisher’* meanness, 
ii S* follow*; A few wer-V* ago, we sent * n ad vert Lenient of 
< onc-rd Gr.arc xir.es to the •' C.,unity l,'em lemon and to 
the Rural pete Yorker. Tim editors r.f tb“ “Country 
Cent " in*i ri *.11 It, and were gentlemen enough to ii'i* 4 - one- 
third id Iheir regular riili'a: but Moore, the “model’' edi¬ 
tor, threw it nmicr hi* table, and did not even notify us that 
it would not b« inserted! (</) 
We should not li ivc nllmb d to this contemptible fellow, 
if he wore not In the practice of assailing tia, neca ('finally, 
In so underhanded way lust as a highwayman will stab a 
man io the book, under the cover of midnight darkm-s* (e) 
It in always remarked by those who study human nature, 
that n riiao w ho All-ack* a person, bv euenkitg behind «ome 
covert position, w ithout coming out boldly and in a manly 
manner, and railing 1 im by name, roar be set down ae pos¬ 
sessing on Inordinate degree of meanness (J) 
One id Moore's themes of Vituperation against ok, i, that 
we have had the “audacity” to use the wont " Rural?' aa 
a prefix to the mine of our paper; and that we have divided 
it into department*, in some degree ss lie pas Ida [inner. 
Me seem* to imniine Hut he has a eopv ii,M on the Cn(l- 
/.»/< language, aud thut no one hut himself lias an' rig't Io 
iMibllp.lt irmtler, under the held-, " Idler alt an 0 " Story 
relln ," Re. I Ife must ejtl.er be a Cool, or devoid of C'Pm- 
lnnii sense, ti> sutipose Mist » pi.Miri er >n nr-t justified In 
gel tl|ig up aw per in just mch a style si he ph-ans, with¬ 
out asking his consent. (fA 
AY e are not disposed to hand v words wiih an v eiril editor: 
hut if Moore nersiat* in meddling with our affairs, xve shall 
give him his full deserts. Some men know enough to mind 
their own business, nnd some do not. Moore, nod Judd of 
lire Am. Agriculturist, are of the latter class. (A) 
— To nil which wo respond in the following hastily- 
penned running commentary: 
(a) As an exordium thnt will do. Though abrupt nnd 
vehement, it is indicative of what follows. The writer is 
evidently exercised by onr plain statement of tacts, 
“ We learn "—an easy matter, when not only the writer, 
but over a score of other persons in his village take the 
Rural New-Yorker! But the “ spasms frequently " on 
our part, and 11 great popularity and extensive circula¬ 
tion " of the R. A , is not. quite so patent, for “ no other 
paper has the news." The expression is slightly mixed 
or transposed, for to be true, the “frequent spawns" 
should refer to hltu of the R. A., and the “popularity 
and circulation" to the Rural New-Yorker— a correc¬ 
tion which every intelligent reader wilt make, 
(b) Glad ho hag any pleasure; thought one so con¬ 
scienceless could not realize that sensation, “Niggard¬ 
ly,” “ mean," “ soul no larger than the point of a 
needle," are decidedly original and argumentative expres¬ 
sions—albeit they have too much the odor of the stable 
to be appreciated'by people of refined tasto. “Model" 
reminds uh that the same writer “ once on u tim«" (in 
his monthly, and before starting a U’cr.kly.) commended 
Moork's Rural New-Yorker us the “Model Agricul¬ 
tural and Family Newspaper of the Union." [We quote 
from memory, a* we did not save the “ first-rate notice."] 
(c) The idea of our taking offence at his fowl criticisms 
Is, in plain English, all “ gammon a foul dodge, as the 
writer knows. No, sir! — you well know that the sole und 
only reason of our striking the R. A. from our exchange 
list was because it copied columns and pages of our 
original matter, and gave no credit whatever. Some 
people would cull your conduct violating tho Command¬ 
ment which says "Thou shall not steal; but you now add 
insult to Injury by breaking the next command—“ Thou 
shall nut bear false iritness,” The stealing —yes stealing 
in the word—from onr pages was so notorious that It was 
condemned editorially by several papers at the time. 
Stopped the exchange on account of “fowl criticisms," 
forsooth! The canard about subjecting him to teu cents 
postage would he wicked, did not tho 1 truth of history " 
render it absurd and laughable—the truth being that 
such a thing was Impossible, for the simple reason that 
biB sheet was not started till years after the 10 cent rate 
and credit system of postage were abolished 1 ! Unlike 
some of his others, therefore, that tale “ lias not enough 
ot truth to pointthe lie with venom!” Its author should 
remember the adage which Intimates that a certain class 
of people should have good memoricn, 
(dj “Meanness.” That is a slight improvement on 
“niggardly," “mean," etc., and our “sapper and miner" 
evidently believes in progress, even in Billingsgate. 
But his memory is slightly treacherous again—for the 
advertisement was not “ of the Concord Grape " alone, 
(as his generous C. G. friends can bear us witness,) but 
also included the R, A.; and any oue who has so long 
read aud copied from the Rural Nlw-Yorkkr ought to 
understand, by this time, that we do not, knowingly, 
insert "deceptive advertisements (or thoao of humbugs,) 
on any conditions." Why should w« notify him of what 
was already patent to “ all the world and the rest of 
mankind?” Stupid mortal! We may he “niggardly,” 
“mean," a “highwayman,” etc., but we never could, 
descend to so low a thing as to advertise, for pay, »uoh an 
egregious and contemptible sell as Miner's Rural Ameri¬ 
can J Make up faces and call us names, school-boy like- 
do anything, everything, but pray never ask us to com¬ 
mit inch a “ meanness'' that! 
Die. 
(s) “ Contemptible fellow,” “ highwayman,” etc.—more 
progress—nice “ family paper”—a month's reading of it 
must be aa good for boys as driving on the canal a whole 
season 1 
(f) Not mnch “Progress and Improvement" here, 
“sneaking” being the only evidence of “Excelsior” in 
phraseology. Were not aware that we had alluded to 
the waspish giant (?) for years—since we first illustrated 
the mode of making cheap weeklies — though we have 
had many opportunities aud even requests to expose his 
operations , (the vending of a bee-hive labeled patented 
being only one item; whether it was ever patented, any 
one interested can ascertain on application to the Com¬ 
missioner of Patents.) 
(g) The “ Excelsior” of Buncombe is reached in this 
nonsense, for, a* onr long-time readers are aware, we 
have never objected or even alluded to such matters. 
Indeed, when onr article wee written we bad only seen 
one number of the R, A. in over two years (but that one, 
by the way, had two of our articles on its first page, 
without credit,) and until tbe receipt or the l&te num¬ 
ber, a few days since, me did not even knoie that it had 
any such departments as "Educational ," “Story Teller," 
tfC. But that “ laeoo" shows us that the “miner and 
sapper” of the agricultural press has not only imitated 
this journal in form, Ac., and recently aped (in an abor¬ 
tive manner, to be sure,) onr title vignette heading, 
illustrated heads of departments, border rales, corners, 
Ac., but actually stolen the substantial descriptions of 
several departments from a Supplement tee issued nearly 
Two v karh ackU Truly, “ a guilty conscience needs no 
accuser!’’ He thought we knew all this, and yet we 
were entirely oblivious of the compliment. Had he 
done it two years ago, when our heading* were original— 
instead of waiting until after we had decided to discard 
them at the close of this year—more enterprise would 
have been exhibited, to say the lea»t. As to the transac¬ 
tion itself, we leave a discriminating and just public, and 
all our contemporaries who believe in legitimate and 
honorable journalism, to decide—merely adding that we 
cannot conceive how its author can “ sleep o'nights." 
(hj The talk about deserte reminds us of a threat 
once made by another lltmbaitcs Eurioso — s. couplet 
Which reads in this wise: 
“Who dares these Roots displace 
Must meet Bomhestes face to facel" 
And the final sentence reminds ns that Junn once made 
public one of the tricks of the R. A. bodies in his expose 
of humbug advertisements — showing, if we remember 
correctly, that they had a sort of marriage brokery, to 
sell soft and sentimental youths. But we suspect the 
special venom is owing to th» kaot that Moors pub¬ 
lishes by far the largcnt circulating Rural a»d Family 
Weekly, nod Judd the most popular Agricultural 
Monthly, in the World 1—each of said journals probably 
exceeding the Utica and Clinton ones by at least forty 
thousand. Reason enough, truly ! 
— Now, reader kind (and patient, too, if you have 
read all the above,) do not say we have descended too 
much in this case—that the Rural Nkw-Yohkkr can 
afford to lot such vonom as wo havo noticed pass un¬ 
heeded, True, wo enn afford to let it pass, but are 
bound, for onco, to give the “ artful dodger " the benefit 
of our circulation, nnd pnt the Public on its guard 
against imposition. Road onr article of three weeks 
ago, then the reply (?), and judge whether any of onr 
statements—founded upon the best evidence, now iu our 
possession — is explained, denied or even alluded to. 
Nut one word is said on the points! Now, we repeat 
that wo wish it distinctly understood, by both I’reas and 
People, that wo base the claims of the Rural New- 
Yorker upon its merits alone, and moreover that we 
do not wish it mixed or confounded with any other 
“Rural.” In other words “let every tub stand on its 
own bottom.” 
In conclusion, we invite all interested to examine and 
compare the two papers—in Contents, Appearance, Price, 
Ac. And to further thi* object we will cheerfully circu¬ 
late among our Agent* and tho Press, at our own ex¬ 
pense, from 100 to 600 copies of tho R. A Of the 24th 
ult., if the publishers will furnish then), (and we under¬ 
stand they do so free for specimens.) And if that is not 
enough, we will pay the regular subscription rates for 
the above number, and circulate them in the manner 
stated. A bill with the papers, by Express, will be duly 
honored. Now, Sir Copyist and Imitator, shall we have 
the papers ? 
|1 o it t l)’s Corner. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I aim composed of 22 letters. 
My 13, 3,1«, 6,18 is a man's name. 
My 5,16, 1(1, (i is an ancient city. 
My 14,12,21, 20 )g a kind ol tree. 
My 19,12, 21,11 is what every person haB. 
My 7, 22, 3,17, B every housekeeper must have. 
My 10, 17, 20,10 every baker uses. 
My 1,18, 9, 8 is an early vegetable. 
My lfi, 3,14, 6, 8 all sailors understand. 
My 4, 9, 7 is used in all large cities. 
My 2, 3, 11 1 b a measure. 
My whole is a motto of one of the best papers in 
New York State. 
So, Sodns, N. Y, 1860, J. Veley. 
X3T Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 567. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:—Without confidence, 
friendship is but a mockery. 
Answer to Charade:—Card-table. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem:—7,15, 48. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
tile larokst circulated 
AGRICULTURAL LITERARY AND FAMILY WEEKLY, 
IS PUnLISHKD EVERY SATURDAY BY 
l». D. T. JUOOItE, JtOCIliih'l'KJI, N. r. 
Office, Onion Buildings, Opposite the Court Douse, Buffalo St. 
TKllNTS IN A DVA NOE: 
Two Dollars a Year—$1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agent* as follows ‘—Three Copies one year, for $5; Six, and 
one free to club agent, fur $1U; Ten, and oue free, for $1S; 
Fifteen, and one free, for $21; Twenty, and one free, for $2fi; 
and any greater number at oame rate—only $1,2S per copy 
—with an extra free copy for every Teu Subscribers over 
Twenty. Club paper* sent to dlfieient Pout-office a, if de- 
sirod. As we pre-pay American pontage on papers sent to 
tlie British Provinces, our Canadian agents and friends mUBt 
add 12*i cents per copy to the club rates of the Rural.— 
Tbe lowest price of copies seut to Europe, Ac., is $2,fi0—in¬ 
cluding postage. 
The above Terms and Rates are invariable, and those 
who remit less than specified for a single copy or club, will 
be credited only as per rates, and receive tbe paper accord¬ 
ingly. Any .'person who is not an uncut sending the club 
into ($1,60 or $1,25) for a single copy (the juice of which is 
$ 2 ) will only receive tbe paper the length of time tbe 
money pays for at Hull single copy juice. People who send 
us less than published rates, und request [the paper for a 
year, or a return of the money, cannot be accommodated — 
for it would be unjust to others to eornjdy, and a great in¬ 
convenience to return remittances. The only way to get 
the Rural for less than $2 a year is to form or join a club. 
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