MOORE’S RURAL MEW-YORKER. 
THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 
BT MISS AL1CK CART, 
When first the slue* grow warm and bright, 
. And flub with gold Ibn hour#, 
And in her pale, faint robe*, the Spring 
1» calling up thi> flower); 
When children, with nrislippered feet, 
Co forth with hearte of glee 
To the straight and even furrow* 
Where tbe yellow corn toast be; 
Wlmt n beautiful embodiment 
Of ease, devoid of pride, 
In the good old-Gudrinned homestead, ( 
With doom wtili open widel 
But when the hsppie*t time in come, 
That to the year belong*, 
Of upland* bright with lmrrP«t gold, 
And meadow* full of conga; 
When field* of yet nnripened com, 
And dally garnered store*, 
Remind the thrifty husbandman 
Of ample threnbing floor*— 
Bow pleasant, from the din and dust 
Of the thoroughfare aloof, 
Seem* the old-fashioned homestead, 
With steep and mossy roof. 
When borne the woodsman plods, with axe, 
Upon hi* nboulder swung, 
And in the knotted apple tree 
Aro scythe and sickle hung; 
When light the swallows twitter 
'Neath the rafters of the shed, 
And the table on the Ivied porch 
With decent care Is Spread- 
Then hearts are lighter and freer 
Than heat in the populous town, 
In the old-fashioped homestead, 
With gables sharp and brown. 
When the flowers of summer perish, 
In the cold and hitler rain, 
And little bird* with weary wings 
Have gone across the main; 
When curls the blue smoke upward 
Toward the bluer sky, 
And cold, along the naked bills, 
And whltOTnc snow-drifts lie— 
In legend* of love and glory 
They forget, the cloud and storm, 
In the old-fashioned homestead, 
With hearth-stone large and warm! 
f Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
YULE-TIDE: 
A TALE FOR THE HOLIDAYS. 
BY CAROLINE A. HOWARD. 
. uclu i d from page 412, last number.) 
flow in 1 Ellen shark Fidelia's 
i i .' ; ■ r-* nipuscil at an 
early <>' i ■ t>y i 1 '• • . nt.s o' ' I lurry EloMuiutv’ 
> tin "Jos au.uluv v ,, •>„ gifts ym r fane* 
Molly m.- 1 II AMY, ^ *,.> y/otB claieoroutkyj^ii tL 
sunt i i On l«t w they soon *».t« ' ■ 
floor ■ * . D'I> * \ ,'jr ‘ • • ■ 
iugs, their oivn . -*, . l. y , .. *oo .*rmll foi mo 
occsion, but were ii : nil } rd- 
mothcr, who hurried them oi the 
announcement that their father wan ^ a up to 
the store with the horse and sleigh, and il toey 
wanted to ride they must hurry. 
Fidelia was at an upper window when they 
returned, and noticed with surprise that the sleigh 
contained one more than it took away. While 
wondering who it might be, her reverie was dissi¬ 
pated by the entrance of the children, rosy with 
cold and excitement 
u Oh, aunt Ft, we’ve brought you somebody. 
I don’t know who, hut he is real handsome, and if 
be is good, he’ll do to go under the mistletoe, 
won’t he'f” 
Aunt Fi laughed aloud, such a clear ringing 
laugh as brought Fanny to share the fun. 
“Fi,” said brother Sam, ns she entered the 
kitchen, “ who do you think I came across up at 
Wilson’s store? No other than that young fel¬ 
low who taught school here two winters, about 
the last of your going to school. Gzobok Vail, 
you remember?’’ 
“ 0, yea,’’ said Fi, faintly. 
“Well,.he’s improved with years, though he 
always seemed a likely chap. And would you 
believe it, lie’s coming bsclc here, after these nine 
years that he’s been seeing the world. They say 
he’s a tip-top surgeon, and might, have a good 
practice in towD, but he’s taken a notion to step 
into Dr. Skton's place, and I’ll bet it’ll be a good 
thing for the patients. He did not seem to have 
any particular abiding place just now,Ho I asked 
him to dinner just for old acquaintance sake. 
Was that right, mother?” 
“Certainly, I’m right glad you did.’’ 
“Is his wife here with him?” asked Fi, in a 
rather icy tone, as she looked up from the darn¬ 
ing needle she was threading to tie the turkey’s 
legs. 
“His wife! Didn’t know he had one. Ho 
didn’t mention her, and coming home, he said 
he’d spent nearly seven years in Europe since I 
last saw him, and hadn’t been back but a few 
months.” 
Poor Fi! She would rather have had old Mr. 
Fkisbee to dine with them, if needs must be 
either, for lie never put her in a flutter. How¬ 
ever, she was a maidun of courage, and having 
said to herself, decidedly, 
“Don't make a fool of yourself,—he’s married 
without a doubt, so treat him as you would any 
other man,”—she acted accordingly. 
At their first meeting she offered her hand, 
welcomed him to her borne, a little stiffly, perhaps, 
but kindly, and hoped he had prospered since the 
days when she used to go to school to him. She 
made that allusion with a vague notion that i* 
would create a distance between them somehow, 
make him Beem older than he really was, and as 
if she remembered him deferentially. She de¬ 
clined attending church that morning, so Dr. 
Vajl took it upon himself to escort her cousins, 
while her mother and the others went in the large 
sleigh. 
The nll-iinportant dinner over, the children 
gathered atonnd the parlor fire, amusing them¬ 
selves and aunt Fi with merry nonsense, leaving 
the older folks to more sensible pursuits. It bad 
- nows cloudy, and the short wintry afternoon was 
|fwcll nigh wasted into evening shadows. Cousin 
Fannjt whs playing the piano, and Ei.lkn accom¬ 
panied her with her voice, while the others were 
<JlsVbf>ed i” various attitudes as listeners. Dr. 
Vaii. was seated on the “prodigal” side of tbe 
broad fire place, perhaps for the very reason that 
Fidelia, in her capacity of amuxrr to the chil¬ 
dren, had placed herself on the “sacrifice” side. 
“Aunt Fi, we want you and cousin Ellen to 
try a 1 rick,—you know how,—with the chestnuts. 
Molly, cousin Ellen Las done 6inging, you get 
her to come.” 
Obedient to their youthful directors, Ellen and 
Fi knelt upon the hearth-rug, and taking each a 
chestnut, placed them aide by aide in a nice hot 
place, and repeated in low voices, Blowly, 
North, South, East, West, 
Fly to the one whom I love beet, 
Fee, fl, fo, Turn, 
Fly to the way whence he shall come. 
Breathlessly the children waited. Before they 
had ceased speaking, the chestnuts began to rock, 
and Ellen’s began to crack a little and hum, but 
Fi’s gave no sign of popping. Just, as she pro¬ 
nounced the last cabalistic word, there was a 
anap and a simultaneous about from Molly and 
the boya, Fi'b chestnut bad burst, shooting its 
hot contents plump upon Dr. Vail’s nose, aa that 
gentleman, more absorbed in tbe play than the 
music, had incautiously bent forward, hoping to 
hear the charm. How the children laughed and 
clapped their hands! Poor Fi retired in disgust 
to her corner, jnst a* cousin Fanny, with her 
most winning air, came up to Dr. Vail and began 
persuading him to sing. 
" You know you can. Weheard you in church, 
this morning. Pray do! I’ll bring alight, and 
perhaps you can find something you know in my 
collection.” 
The light was brought, and the Doctor looked 
over one after another, but selected nothing. 
Turning to the old music, be drew out the lowest, 
sheet after scattering the others about. Placing 
it upon the rack, he Improvised a few bars as pre¬ 
lude, and sung, in a voice not leas manly, though 
more cultivated, than of yore, the song that he 
only wa^prlvileged to sing, 
“ Ask not if still I love." 
Evel-y note, every word thrilled through the 
finest fibre of Fidelia’s being. It was too much. 
There was something in the voice, perhaps audi¬ 
ble to her ear only, which had been sufficient of 
itself to mar her self-possession, without the aid 
of the old associations clustering round the song. 
She could not bear it It was cruel, heartless of 
him; and quite abmpty she left the room. 
She did not realize how long it was that she 
bad sat upnu the floor with her head bowed upon 
n«r b’iF V.»ul j h ntj rr tli0/4 caIjO yrr*t> n.i nnar J by 
tw little anus clasping her neck, and a sweet, 
voice saying, 
“Como down, MisB Finv, to tea. Mother sent 
me to call you. 0, Mies Finv, that gentleman has 
been talking to mother out in the kitchen about 
rny foot. He took me on his kme’and looked at 
it, and he says he learned a way, when be was 
ever so far off, to straighten it, and he’s going to 
try. Isn’t he good?” 
Putting her hand in that of the child, she 
allowed herself to be led, for she did not wish 
any tea, and only made a show of eating, so as 
not to bo remarked. Just once during the meal 
she ventured a glance at Dr. Vail, and was very 
glad to look another way, while her cheeks 
Slushed as if she had drawn too near the fire. 
The children, tired with ovor much eating and 
romping, wore glad to go early to bed, and were 
accompanied up stairs by their respective 
mothers, who remained in grandmothers room 
awhile for a ^cozy chat Sam, seated by the 
kitchen lire, was enjoying a good smoke, and as 
I)r. Vail did not happen to be a votary of “the 
weed,” he betook kiniBolf once more to the soci¬ 
ety of the younger ladies. There was no light iu 
tbe parlor, save the varying light of the fire, 
which Fanny and Ellen wero amusing them¬ 
selves by poking, and talking in low, confidential 
tones about some of their oity beaux. By u south 
window sat Fidelia, gazing ont upon the white 
monotony of fields, though for all she saw of it 
she would not have known whether it was a sum¬ 
mer or winter landscape. 
Quite unceremoniously Dr. Vaii. seated himself 
on one of Finv’s embroidered ottomans, — the 
piece of furniture nearest to her, in fact, touch¬ 
ing her dress. For about a minute he looked at 
at her, as if expecting to be noticed, and failing 
in that, he's aid, 
“Fidelia, yoar eyes look as if they could see 
years into the future, are they as good at review¬ 
ing the p ist?” 
“Quite,” was all the answer he got 
“And do they see there a certain youth who 
came, poor and unknown, and went much as 
he came, except that he left something behind 
him, which he could not very well do without?” 
“ If they do, they fail to recognijf! him by that 
description.” f 
“ How, then, does he appe -fo 
He appears to me like a w 0 uth who oul y 
as a matter of nece '—;/ V ailetl him#W of all 
that could be 
went as ind ; 
backward 
“T 
retail 
back and speak, would not write. I said I would 
be something first, I would have something worth 
offering, that tbe favor might not be all on one 
side. That idea has spurred every effort, cheered 
every success. Many and many a time hope has 
sunk, and fear has whispered, 1 it will be too late, 
too late,'—Finv, is it too late?” 
Fidy seemed to be still looking out of the win¬ 
dow, but there was a strange trembling in her 
under lip, and her cheeks were wet as with rain. 
Sbe did not answer that very emphatic question, 
but put out one hand timidly to him, while she 
piessed the other closer to her swimming eyes. 
And he took her hand—more than that, he drew 
nearer and took the arm, the entire form into two 
other arms strong enough to hold a dozen such 
slender “ aunt Fi’s.” And ju*t as he bent down 
his head, and there was tbe least little sound, not 
exactly like a whistle, up started Fanny aud 
Ellen, as if just aware that they were not alone, 
both exclaiming at once, 
“Under the mistletoe, as I live!” 
But Fidelia was quick. Sbe wag ont of that 
room and safely into her own in less time than I 
can say so, and she did not even come down to 
take leave of tbe doctor, bat as he went away 
very Boon, 1 don’t think be noticed the omission. 
Sbe was too late to beg the girls not to tell 
Molly and Haici y, for when she came down to 
breakfast next morning, they already knew and 
were too delighted with the success of their 
scheme to be aide to keep still. Fidy bore it 
pretty well, but told them if they did not behave 
better and hold their tongues, they should never 
have a bit. of her wedding cake in cubc Bhe made 
any. 
I Buppose they minded, for they got it six 
months before the next Christmas, and Miss So- 
phronia Baker assisted at the making, to her 
great satisfaction. 
SUNSET ON THE PKAIEIES. 
A correspondent of the London Times in de¬ 
scribing the Prince’s visit to the Western prairies, 
writes as follows: 
“The Prince wa» certainly most fortunate in 
his visit, for tbe time of the year, he had almost 
universal sport; he saw a prairie thnnder storm, a 
prairie fire of immense extent, and, above all, a 
prairie sunset. Th* latter took place in all itB 
supernatural glory— a glory which can never bo 
described or understood by those who have not 
Been it—while the party were shooting quail the 
night before their (epnrture. As the sun neared 
the rich green horifon, it. tamed the whole ocean 
of meadow into a sheet of gold which seemed to 
blend with the grest firmament of reds and pinks 
—pale rosy orangohucs, and solemn, angry look¬ 
ing crimson Clouds above, till not only the sky but 
all the laud around was s wathed in piles of color, 
as if tbe * inking sin shone through the earth like 
mist and turned it to a rainbow. The immensity 
of stillness w hich ay in the prairie then—a still¬ 
ness as profound tfrdv-.st as tbe green solitude 
itself! while not a to 4lr stirred over tbe whole 
% 
horizon as the ? eat transmutation went, slowly 
on m Die land turned Crura rfley 
to piuk, to orange, lo ted and crimson — darken¬ 
ing and darkening always as tbe tints ebbed out 
like a celestial nde, leaving fragments of scarlet 
cloadB over the heavens — the embers of a tire 
which had lie the prairie in a flame of glory. 
There was such n quiet, unspeakable richness in 
this grand farewell of the day — such a terrible 
redness about the sky at luut—that one could al¬ 
most. fancy that some supernatural phenomenon 
had occuired, that the sun had gone forever, and 
left a deep and go ry wound across the darkening 
sky. Night was a relief compared to this dread 
lurid firo in heaven — a fire which the clouds 
seemed to close in upon, arid stifle out, will) diffi¬ 
culty—a fire which, like the paintings of the sunset 
before the Deluge, left always an ominous anger 
in tbe heavens, even when the night was far ad¬ 
vanced, and the prairie clothed in a blue mist, 
wheih roBe over it like water.” 
NEVER DO TOO MUCH AT A TIME. 
Sir Edward Bplwkr Lytton, in a lecture 
recently delivered iu England, gave the follow¬ 
ing history of bis literary habits:—Many persons 
seeing me so much engaged lu active life, and as 
much about the world as if I had never been a 
student, have said to me, “When do you get time 
to write all your hooks? How on earth do you 
contrive to do so much work?” I shall surprise 
you by the answer I make. The answer is this:— 
“ I contrive to do so much by never doing too 
much at a time. A man, to get through work* 
must not overwork himself; or, if he do too much 
to-day, the rc-actton of fatigue will come, and he 
will be obliged to do too little to-morrow. Now 
Biucc I began really and earnestly to study, which 
was not till I had left College, and was actually in 
the wwrld, 1 may perhaps 6ay that I have gone 
through n« large a course of general reading as 
most men of my time. I have traveled much, 
and I have se<’u much; I have mixed much in 
politics, and the various business of life; and in 
addition to all this, I have published somewhere 
about sixty volumes, some upon subjects requir¬ 
ing much research. And what time do you think, 
as a general rule, I have devoted to study—to 
reading aud writing? Not more than three hours 
* i: Jay; and,wh"u Parliament is sitting, not always 
I'tffiiiu. But then, during those hours, I have given 
my whole attention to what I was about.” 
■'vailed him#^ 
Lum of his ptay, and 
ne, with o’) 1 ^ eTen a 
<ch 
you have 
u, or, if 
tflow 
f \,ua 
di* 
so, . 
“ Why 
sb o alu bavo 
was poor. Besio.. . ill coulee al 
le tv o»£ . ,i j yj U the 
curnst . ■ >, gle for life with pt 
much I had 'signed. Then I would 
The Jkyikci 61 .es of Common Lies.—W hat a 
glorious troop might be formed of those men 
who have won their laurels in the campaign oi 
life; fighting not against sword and bayonet, 
musket and cam on, lance and sabre; but ftgainBt 
hardship and circumstances; natural defects and 
the ridicule or opposition of their fellow men. 
Nor has the fight been against a visible or tangi¬ 
ble foe alone; these men have had themselves to 
apquer; their ignorance or indolence; tkeir 
lural leaning to evil; the bad habits of early 
.ys, or eve 'heir poverty and the lowness ol 
tu ir social station. 
toil anb fjnmor. 
HIDING- A HOBBY. 
BY GKO. A. HAMILTON, 
A traveler had lost bis way 
Within some forest shade, 
And as he rode, in doubt astray, 
A simple circuit made. 
At length he *aw, not rery plain, 
The marks of borKe*' hoof, 
And said, “ I'm in some track again, 
These foot-print*are tbe proof.” 
Then, when another round he made, 
The foot-prints double lay, 
The path *o plain, he smiling said, 
“ I’m in a beaten way.” 
And thus, with each succeeded round, 
The mark* increased so fast, 
He spoke exulting, “ I have found 
A thoroughfare at laet." 
“ Now, now I’m right,” he said, “ alack! 
A town I’ll *oon o’ertake," 
Not dreaming that thi* was the track 
Of hi* own sad mistake, 
And so it is with men, I’ve found, 
Who merely ride a Hobby, 
Deceived by every useless round, 
Till shunned by everybody. 
South Butler, N. Y., 1860. 
♦ « ♦- 
COERCING HENS. 
A lady correspondent of the Mobile Adver¬ 
tiser, writing from Kansas, relates the following 
extraordinary proceedings: 
After breakfast, I was surprised to see my 
landlady ,;o out., and, catching her bens, tie each 
one’s legs together, and throw them upon the 
ground, with “there, be good.” 
“What did you do that for?” I asked. 
“To make ’em lay,” she answered. 
“ Make ’em lay! will that do it?” I inquired. 
“ La, yes,” she said; “didn’t yon ever hearn tell 
of that before? ’ 
I confessed that I had not In an hour she 
went out. again, and picking up the hens, sure 
enough some had lain; those she let go, and they 
ran off, not even cackling their gratitude. But 
those hens which seemed disposed to be contrary 
she struck on the buck, saying—“ You’d better 
lay—you’d better lay, for you won’t go until you 
do,” and in a little while they, too, had recom¬ 
pensed their mistress for feeding them so beauti¬ 
fully. She says she does so every morning, and 
the hens know well enough that “ they have got 
to lay.” 
-- 1 - 
A Sample of Arkansas Eloquence. — “The 
Court will pmase to observe,” said an Arkansas 
lawyer, “tl?at the gentleman from tbe East has 
given them a very learned speech. He has 
roamed with old Romulus, socked with old Soc¬ 
rates, rippied with old Euripides, and cantered 
with old Cantharides! but what, your Honor— 
what does he know about the laws of old Arkan- 
saw ?” 
. - - — — — W - '■ 
Bring Ready.—A young la.'y, in reply to her 
father’s question why she did not wear rings 
upon her fingers, said:—“Because, papa, they 
hurt me when anybody squeezes my hand.” 
“What business have you to have your hand 
squeezed?” “Certainly none, but still you know, 
papa, one would like to keep in squeezable 
order.” 
“ Is your horse fast ?” inquired a Vermont 
horse dealer. “Beats all creation.” “Good bot¬ 
tom?” “He iB all bottom. Why, I drove him 
so far one day that it took me two dsys to get 
him back again.” 
PUBLISHER’S SPECIAL NOTICES. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 24 letters. 
My 24, •J, 23,1, 7 signifies weakness of intellect. 
My 3, 9, 21. 5,16 was the goddess of Sre. 
My X, 10,13, 4,15, 18, 20 is wbat we all should like to 
enjoy. 
My 19, 22, 8,15, 20 is a gentleman’s name. 
My 12, 14, 11 is an animal. 
My 6,10,17 is a pronoun. 
My whole is what we ail should strive to do. 
Westfield, N. Y., I860. A. D. F. 
Answer in two weeks. 
lor Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 27 letters. 
My 8, 23, 4. 5,13, 2,12,13,16, 24,18, 20 is a town in my 
17,25,19,23, 7 
My 11, 3,15,10,14, 22,13 is a part of Austria. 
My 7. 8 , 26 , 1,11,24, 9, 27,19. 23 is a town in Arkansas. 
My 2, 6, 21,19, 23,13 Is a town in Tennessee. 
My whole i* an old saying. 
New Providence, N. .1., 1860. J. L. Kendall. 
XjtT" Answer in two week*. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
Divide one hundred into two parts, so that the least, 
multiplied by the cube of the greatest, may be a maxi¬ 
mum. S. G. Cagwjn. 
Verona, Onei. Co., N. Y., 1800. 
cr Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN No. 570. 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus:—Secession, disunion, and 
disruption—who can interpret them? 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:—General Francis C. 
Marion. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem:—They will be to¬ 
gether at the eni of five hours. 
XW Aky person so disposed can act as local agent for 
the Rural, and those who volunteer in the good cause will 
receive gratoitiea and their kindness be appreciated. 
I'F'Tna Book* RRAnvl-Toe hook* we offoT a* Specific 
Premium* are now ready for delivery or mailing, and will 
be promptly forwarded to all who become entitled to them 
—ora* noon an we known their wi*he*. Tiioee who are 
offered a selection will oblige a* by stating their prefer¬ 
ences, and giving I’ost-Offlee or Express addres* 
Nor a “Dollar I’apkb.”—W e reiterate wbat ha* often 
been proclaimed iu former volumes, that the Ur sal Nkw- 
Yorkkr is not a dollar paper—that it i* never furnished to 
clubs, however large, at less than our published rates. 
When we can afford such a journal a* this for a less figure, 
the fact will be announced. Meantime, those who write ns 
that ‘'other paper*’’ can be bad for a dollar, are advised 
that, if they prefer a re-print, or trashy sheet, to an 
original, useful and pare Journal for the Tamily, it is a very 
easy matter to practice suck economy. 
I3F*8knj> on tux Namks.—Now is the time to forward 
lists of subscriber* for l'dl, and wo hope agent-friends will 
“harry op” the names as fast as possible. Our printers 
art realty to put the list* in type, and if they are sent in 
gradually, now, (instead of coming by the thousands, 
daily, about the 1st of January,) we shall not have too 
much of a good thing all at once. There is yet time to 
secure the Extra Premiums for early clubs. 
t1T~ AkwxiiAT xn Fftort leads to success in canvassing for 
periodicals, a* well a* In other enterprises. For Instance, 
if yon are forming (or wish to form) a club for tbe Rural 
Nxw Yorkkh, 8nd cannot fill it. np In yonrown neighbor¬ 
hood. get Rome person or persona a few miles distant to join 
with or assist yon — adding their name* to those you may 
procure, mid sendln.- all together. Please think of this, and 
set upon the suggestion If convenient. 
flF*V oluntary Aoxxtu for tor Rural,—A ny and every 
Subscriber, Post-Mnater or reader Is requested to act as vol¬ 
untary agent for the Rural, by forming clnbs or otherwise. 
Now is the lime for its friend* to manifest their interest in 
the paper and the cause it advocate*, either by obtaining 
new mibscribent, or inducing other* to act in Its behalf. If 
any lose or wear out numbers In shoicino the /taper, — 
that’s the beet way to get. suhscrlbera, — we will duplicate 
them in order to make their files complete for binding. 
Ixf No Travblino Aokrts are employed by na, as we 
wiali to r’ e the whole field to local agent* and those who 
form club*. And beside, we wish It distinctly understood 
that all persons traveling through the country, professing 
to hold certificates from us, abb impostors, 
|tT3F~ Look Sharp, Friends 1 — If those ordering the 
Rural would write all names of person*, post-offices, Ac., 
correctly and plainly, wk should receive less scolding about 
other peojtldt errors Our clerk* are not infallible, but 
moat of the errors about which agent* complain are not at 
tnhutable to any one in the Rcra i. Office. People who for¬ 
get to date their letters at any place, or to sign their names, 
or to give the name or address tor copies ordered, will 
t lease take things calmly and not charge u» with their sins 
of omission, etc. 
Or Uniform Ratkh— No Private Terms —We begto 
state, for the benefit of all interested, that our published 
Term* are rigidly adhered to—thnt we do not intend to 
publish one rate aud accept of another in any case. It 
istherefore useless for people to aend ns les* than our full 
price for a copy or club of Kuralb— or for any one to ask 
private terms. Wc have no time to answer Iminiries by 
letter, though wb desire to bo civil, and hence give our 
platform In this shape. Person* who intimate that they 
can get “other papers” cheaper uro advised to do so if 
they think the investment safe and profitable,—hut the 
Rural Nkw-Yokkkr cannot be hud of ua for less than 
regulurrate*, mid no person l» authorized to offer it at a 
lower price than our published terms, 
IT TtiK Monky wk Rkcxivx. —Bills on ail solvent 
Bank* In the 0, S. and Canada taken at par on subscrip¬ 
tion to the Rural, hat oar agents and other friends will 
please remit New York, New England, ot Canada money, 
when convenient. Postage Stamps can be remitted for 
fractional parts of n dollar. For all amount* over $5 we 
prefer Draft* on either New York. Philadelphia, Boston, 
Albany, Rochee.er. or Buffalo, (Vseexchange.) pajaldeto 
n r order—and all such draft* may oe mailed at theirisk 
of the Publisher, If onr friends throughout the Union, 
British Provinces, Ac,, will comply with these suggestions 
so far as convenient, the favor will be appreciated. 
tv Ci.unmNo with the Maoazixrs, Ac.—We will scud 
thc'KciUI, Nbw Vorkku lor 1861 and a yearly copy of either 
The Atlantic, Harper's, Gotten'e, or any other 4:3 maga¬ 
zine. for At. The Rural and either The JlorlieuHurist, 
Horry's ,\fa-oa;ine„ Arthur's Mnposlne, or any other 
42 rmiy.ir.in-, for 43. Canada subscribers must add the 
American postiure. 
%w Thk Rural to Aa, Societies.—I n answer to 
inquiries, we would state that we will furnish tlie RURAL 
Nnw-Yokkkr to Agricultural Societies, to be awarded as 
premiums, at the lowest elub price—only $1.26 per copy 
—and send to as many different addresses or post-offices 
as desired, Canada Societies, $1.37}i, including Ameri¬ 
can postage. 
I'jp“ Wk would again state that neither of the first five 
volumes of the Rural can be furnished. We can supply 
the others —1855, ’46, ’67, ’68 and ’69—bound, at $3’each. 
The only volume* we can furnish unbound, are those of 1859 
and i860— price, $2 each. 
t?” Tub Rural is published strictly upon tbe CASH 
SYSTEM —copies are never mailed to individual subscribers 
until paid for, aud always discontinued when the subscrip¬ 
tion term *• spires. Hence, we force the paper upon noifc, 
and Keep no • mi lit books, experience having demonstratll 
that the Cash System is altogether the lie;,: for bo! f 
ber and 1’ubliaher. * 
XSt" Tub Rural as a Present.— Our readers <re 
reminded that in all cases where the Rural is sent tc a 
distant friend or relative, as a present, we only chaige 
tlie lowest club price, $1.25. Our lowest price for cop. ss 
sent to Canada, is $1.37and to Europe, $2 25. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THIS LAROK8T CIRCULATED 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AMD FAMILY WEEKLY, 
IS PC/liLISHEW HVKKY SATURDAY BY 
». I>. T, MOOItE, ROCHESTER, N. V. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite tlie Court floase, Buffalo 8t. 
TB3P13V1S IN ADVANCE: 
Two Dollars a Year— $1 for six months. To Clubs and 
Agents as followsThree Copies one year, for $5; Six, and 
one free to club agent, for *lu; Ten, and one free, for IU; 
Fifteen, and one free, for $21; Twenty, and one free, for $26; 
and any greater number al name rate—only $1,25 per copy 
—with an extra free copy for every Ten Subscribers over 
Twenty. Club papers sent to different l'o*t-offices, if de¬ 
sired. Aa we pre-pay American pontage on papers sent to 
the British Provinces, our Canadian agent* audfriendsmust 
add 12>4 cents per copy to the club rates of the Rural.— 
The lowest price of copies sent to Europe, &C-, is $2,50—in¬ 
cluding pastage. 
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 the paper accord¬ 
ingly. Any Iperron who is not un agent sending the club 
rate (| 1,60 or $1,26) for a single copy (the price of which is 
$2) will only receive th« paper the length of time tbe 
money pays for at full single copy price. People who send 
us less than published rale*, and request it he paper fora 
year, or a return of the money, cannot be accommodated/— 
for it would be unjust to other* to comply, and a great in¬ 
convenience to return remittance*. The only ir oy to get 
the Rural for less than $2 a year is to form or join a club. 
j-jpF* Postack on Tint ItURAL, —The postage on the 
Rural Nkw-Yorkbb i» only 3>a cent* per quarter, or 
13 cents a year to any part of thi* State, (except Monroe 
county, where it goes free,) and 6)4 cents a quarter, or 26 
cents a year, to any other part of the United States, pay¬ 
able quarterly, iu Advance, at the office where received. 
