goutjj's Cffrntr 
« Mother, now bend and kiss once more 
This aching brow of mine; 
I feel death’s dew a-gathering o’er— 
I feel life’s strings untwine— 
.Now hold mj hand in thine, until 
No bouI this form shall keep. 
The room grows dark—how very still 1 
I'm going now to sleep " 
She ceased. Her tremor-shook features once gasp-d ; 
Then a smile overspread where the tremor had passed. 
Her heart ceased to beat. Departed her breath: 
ADd “ Hattie " reposed in the slumber of death. 
Stockbridge, N. Y, 1857- 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
Paying Toll, —“Tbe principal avenue of our 
city,” writes a learned friend in Detroit, “has a 
toll-gate just by tbe Elmwood Cemetery road. As 
the cemetery had been laid out. some time previous 
to the construction of the plank road, it was made 
oue of the conditions of the company's charter, 
that all funeral processions should go baofe and 
forth fret. One day, as Dr. P-, a celebrated 
physician, stopped to pay his toll, he remarked to 
the gate-keeper: 
“Considering the benevolent character of oar 
profession, I think yon ought to let as pasB free of 
charge.” 
“No, no, Doctor,” the keeper readily replied, 
“we couldn't sfford that. You send too many 
dead heads through here as it is.” 
The Doctor paid his toll, and never asked any 
favor after that.— Exchange. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE TWO DEATHS.—A CONTRAST. 
I am composed of 49 letters. 
My 16, 6, 33, 35, 1, 27, 30 is what most boys admire. 
My 46, 16, 32, 10 is a kind of fish. 
My 45, 22.19, 9, 38, 16 is most people's aim. 
My 42, 8. 25 baa been the ruin of many. 
My 48, 31, 21,16, 16 is a baby’B depository. 
My 37, 19, 43, 34 contains four quarters. 
My 2,1,18, 49 is a prime number. 
My 3, 7. 21, 38, 16 1 b the time for improvement. 
My 48, 47, 44,12 is one of tbe planets. 
My 39, 16,1, 41 is the State in which I live. 
My 40, 4, 13,11, 46 are my favorites. 
My 34, 29, 17, is what some people do to live. 
My C, 16, 32, 20, 28 is an inhabitant of the ocean. 
My 24, 26, 36, 38 was very necessary in time of war. 
My 14, 23, 28 is the trangressor’s doom. 
My whole is a Baying of Poor Richard. 
Attica, Ohio, 1807, Cr kuna. 
JIS&~ Answer next week. 
Tub chamber of the dying—O, who has not been there. 
Where groans aad dismal sighing are wailed upon the air; 
Where hopeless, fierce and raving—in pallid hue of death— 
The child of guilt is craving a moment more of breath: 
Or where, in peace reclining, witb piajcrfnl lips ajar, 
The meek one seeB declining her future's hopeful star. 
Whoever has not entered these exit halls of earth,— 
Where weeping friendB are centered around the dreary 
hearth, 
And seen the flare and flicker of life’s expiring light, 
Ae darkness, thick and thicker, waxed o’er some victim’s 
Bight, 
Hae missed a scene impressive, that lives within the heart 
When dies all scenes ttprtssive. of false and studied art. 
Since all around are flitting, like stars at break of day, 
It surely is befitting to see life fade away. 
Whatever painful feeling of gloomy fear and dread 
We find within us stealing at the sufferer’s dying bed. 
We should never shun the dwelling where Azrael hovers 
o’er, 
But enter, fears dispelling, and think of death the more. 
Most, the young, with liles unclouded, whose every hope 
is bright, 
Whose days with pleasures crowded, hath naught of sor¬ 
row’s blight. 
Should see the writhing features, should hear the dying 
groan, 
That these most faithful teachers may instruct them it 
their own; 
For they are oft forgetting when amusements are fo rife, 
And joys are so besetting, that there is an end of life, 
There thev may often witness in the throngs that pass 
away, 
Scenes as different in the egress, as 1, now here, portray: 
Then they may be desiring '.he death that they would die, 
And to such un end aspiring lead a better life thereby. 
For Moore's Rnral New-Yorker 
CHRISTMAS BELLS 
BY EMILY C. HUNTINGTON. 
Merbilt on the night air rang out the beautiful 
Christmas Bells; joyous and clear the chimes went 
echoing down the datkuess, stealing into luxurious 
chambers, and mounting to dismal garrets, filling 
all the great sleeping city with their gladsome 
music—“ peace on eaith, good will toward men.” 
“ Peace on earthT what a mockery it seemed to 
the poor, cowering in their scanty rags, shivering 
at the searching breath of the wind, that bore the 
voice of the bells iu through tbe yawning roof.— 
Some there were, tossing wearily on bedsfif paiD, 
who thought ot the oabe once cradled in Bethle¬ 
hem’s manger, aod smiled at the peace the memory 
brought to them; smiled to think how he had 
borne for them cold, and hunger, and pain, and 
that when the night was past they might 
One of Henry Fox's jokes was that played off on 
Mrs.-, who had a great fondness for making 
the acquaintance of foreigners. He first forged a 
letter of recommendation to her in favor of a Ger¬ 
man nobleman, the Bbtod Von Seidlilz Powders, 
whose card was left at her door, and for whom a 
dinner was immediately planned by Mrs.-, and 
an invitation sent in form. After waiting a con¬ 
siderable time, and no Baron appearing, the dinner 
was served; but during the second course, a note 
was brought to the lady of tbe house with excuses 
for not coming, by tbe sudden death of his annt, 
the Duchess Von Epsom Salts, which she read out 
to the company without any suspiciou of the joke, 
and to the entertainment of her guests, among 
whom was the facetious author. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
CHARADE. 
If to know my first your wish is, 
Listen; whero ’tiB found I’ll tell you, 
With the printer you will find it, 
Type could not be set without it. 
My second is a kind of liquid, 
Printers use it very freely. 
Now my third; ’tisa strange creature, 
On the mountains, in the thickot, 
In the air and in the river 
In the aerie of the eagle,— 
Always found in light and snnshine. 
My fourth is always found in danger, 
Tbo’ never known to fear or waver. 
My fiflli is found in every dwelling,— 
In the field and in the forest, 
In the earth and in the ocean, 
In the present and in the future. 
My whole is possessed by most of people, 
Tho’ Borne have often too much of it 
Reader do not frown but pardon, 
If I Bay 'tis your companion. 
Hartford, Wig., 1857. E. W. 
Answer next week. 
weariness, 
rest with him in eiernity’s morning. 
On and on went the gladsome chimes. Through 
a window, where damask curtains fell heavily to 
the rich carpet, stole a faint sound of their carol, 
and 3 sleeper started wildly up, listened for a mo¬ 
ment, and then sank back upon the dowDy pillow, 
murmuring sadly, “One year ago, sweet wife, and 
we smiled together at the Christmas chimes; now 
they are oDly funeral bells. Would to God I heard 
them no more than those sleeping so icily under 
the sdow.” And the rich man strove to shut bis 
ears to the tones that would come in, so like mock¬ 
ery amid all the splendor of his desolate home, 
What was it. all to him, now the light and the bles¬ 
sing of his heart was lost? What were the costly 
carpets now her lightfoot would never press them? 
What were the rare pictures, the gems of art, now 
her eyes would never rest upon them? So broke 
the merry Christmas to one heart 
A poor woman watched anxiously by a little bed 
whereon lay the child she loved, hiB wasted iingerB 
moving to and fro in the restlessness of fever, his 
lips parched, and his cheeks crimson with the 
strange ire that crept and glowed along bis veins. 
Slowly trie night wore away, and a stillness fell 
upon the sufferer, a quiet that might be a blessed 
CatmorB.—The keeper of a livery stable on 
Cape Cod had a habit of cautioning his patrons 
against rapid driving. 
One day, one of them oame for a team to join a 
a funeral procession, and on handing him the 
reins, our friend, as usual, mechanically observed, 
“Now, don’t you drive too fast!” 
“ Look-a-hore, old fellar,” exclaimed his custo¬ 
mer, I’m bound to keep np with the procession, if 
I kill the horse!” 
Upright he sat upon his couch, — 
A spectacle o? fear: 
And wildly stared ills glassy eyes 
As if s fiend was near. 
Elis fleshless limbs in terror quaked 
Like branches in the gale:— 
Cold, clammy drops oozed from his brow 
Cadaveron8 and pale. 
Two powerful men on either side 
Sat holding each in arm, 
And strove to pacify his fears, 
And quiet his alarm. 
But, with a superhuman power 
He bounded from their side; 
And dartiD J wildly round the room, 
In phremued accenie cried: 
“ Avannt! ye images of fear! 
Ye black Tartarian ciewl 
What seek ye here, ye imps of hell! 
Why ever me pursue I 
Oh 1 see I ye mighty gods behold! 
Their eye-balle fiercely glare I 
They hie?, and rear their snaky heads 
Above me in the air! 
« Oh 1 see ! their iorky tongues appear 
Like streaks ol lurid fire 1 
I feel their hot breath on my cheek I 
My Gad '. they're coming Higher 1 
Off 1 Touch me not! —Take, take my gold, 
And jewels glittering bright. 
Take, lake them—fruits of many a year— 
And quit—oh 1 quit my sight. 
“ Hath gold, nor pity's tongue no power 
Your fiendish rage to glut? 
And are those scaly breasts fore’er 
Against compassion shut ? 
Then back I—advance another step, 
And 1 will make yon cower! 
And you shall know that I—yes 1— 
Even now—ha \ ha I—have power! 
“ On! out they come - nearer—snore nigh ! 
My threats they do not ieck. 
Oh! Horror ! Murder 1 Help I I feed 
Them twisting sound my sieck 11 
They drag me—pull me down, down, down!— 
Oh, God 1 some help bestow ! 
Oh! friends—where are you?—hold me back, 
And do not ltt me go 
He ceased: then fell upon the floor, 
And faintly gasped ior breath : 
Then sending forth one horrid cry, 
His limbs relaxed In death. 
And when those strong men raised him np, 
His harrowed soul had fled; 
Awe-struck, they gazed in horror on 
The features of tbe dead! 
An editor thus advertises hie missing hat:—The 
gentleman who inadvertently took our new beaver 
aad left an inferior article in its stead, will do ns 
infinite kindness by returning our own, and he 
shall receive onr warmest thanke, and two apolo¬ 
gies—an apology for the trouble we have given 
him, and the “apology for a hat,” he left us. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
ALGEBHAICAL PROBLEM. 
When cattle were high and money was plenty, 
a man bought 30 head of cattle fora certain num¬ 
ber of dollars. The square root of one-ninth the 
sum he paid equals one-third the price per head. 
But when these hard times came he sold them for 
$630, thereby losing as much per cent, as the cat¬ 
tle cost him. What did they cost him. 
Angelica, N. Y., 1S57- C. L. Cudebhc. 
Answer next week. 
An anecdote is told of an Engli h barber, who 
observed to his customer that there was “ cholera 
in the A3ir.” “Then I hope you are Bomewhat 
particular about the brashes you ase.” “Ob,” 
said the barber, “ I do no’ mean 'air of the 'ead, 
but the Ziair of the ^atmosphere.” 
foot upon her, uud made her what she is; cursed 
by society, that keeps record of its progress in. the 
heart's blood of thousands such as she. In all 
man’s world there is no place for her,—may she 
not seek reiuge with God, under tho shadow oi 
those white wings of peace that brood above the 
summer lands of eternity? Over her head tho 
stars went singing on their courses, bo mockingly 
bright and cold—close at her feet the river flowed 
silently, solemnly along, telling no tales of all that 
rested ia Sts bosom; perchance it would wa9h 
away the travel stains, and prove a quiet sepulchre. 
Oh guardian angel of love! thou was silent then! 
Angels of wo aud darkness! ye were whispering 
temptingly near; it was hut a moment, and then 
rest. There was a plunge in the waters—silently 
they parted, opening as a mother’s aims open to 
fold her child, and when they closed it was over a 
human heart. Another drop was gone from life’s 
river, bat what matter? It was not a bright, beau¬ 
tiful one that danced and sparkled on its crested 
billows; it was only a dark little drop, that crept 
moaning aud chafing along it« cold shores, and 
none, ever missed it in tho sunlight, aud even in 
breathing irora tbe healing angel, or it might be— 
and the mother shuddered at tbe thought—and 
bent quickly down to listen for tbo low, faint 
breathirigthatstruggledirregularly from the parted 
lips. Suddenly tho silver calming burst upon tho 
air. The lids that drooped bo heavily over the 
mournful eyes unclosed, aud it smile half dawned 
on the pale face of the boy. 
“The Christmas bells, mother!” he said half 
joyfully. “Oh tell me the story of the shepherds, 
and the angels that sang when Christ was born." 
It was the same old wondrous tale that the mother 
repeated, in plain and Bimple words, but the face 
of the listening child lost all the wan shadows of 
pain as she proceeded, aud ere the story was finish¬ 
ed there was a look upon it that comes but once to 
human facep, a foreshadowing it may be of the 
peace that eternity enfoldeth. There came no 
sound from his lips, but the wasted arms were 
stretched eagerly upward, as if to receive the boon 
so long coveted, and then dropped slowly down 
upon the thin oovering, and in the poor room a 
dead face looked np to heaven. It was Christmas 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ENIGMA. 
“ Joun,” said a father to his bod, one day, when 
he caught him shaving the “ down” off his upper 
lip, “don’t throw yonr shaving water ont where 
there are any barefooted boys, for they might get 
their feet pricked.” 
I am composed of five letters, and am often ap¬ 
plied to cast away articles; behead me, and I form 
an evening’s entertainment; behead me agaiD, 
and I am a favorite beverage. a, o. f. 
Genoa, N. Y., 1867. 
JZ3f~ Answer next week. 
Scene. —A tall ladder leaning against the house 
—a nigger at the top, and a hog scratching his 
hide against the bottom—“G’way—g’way dar !— 
Yonm makin’ mischief.” 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—Soft Soap. 
Answer to Trigonftmettical Problem:—Larger 
14 2729-f rods: smaller 6.6226 Lrods. 
At what time of life may a man he said to be¬ 
long to the vegetable kingdom? When experience 
has made him sage. 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
Brother Jonathan thus describesasteamboat: 
—“It’s a sawmill on one side, and a grist-mill 
on t’other, and a blacksmith shop in the middle.’? 
TEA IXADllUi IUB.T 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
IB FCBLIS81D *V*KT SAIUEDAT 
MY I), D. T. KUUUE, lUKlUESTKK, N. V. 
Ofies, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court House. 
To make a man a patriot, all that is wanted iB a 
pair of circumstances—a wife end a baby. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
TWO Dollar* a Y»ak—$1 (or six (nosith* To -lube and 
Agonta os IoIIowb—T hree Copied one your lor S31 Etx Coploo 
(and ou« to Agnus or getter up at. Linn. I -or III 1 ; Ton Oople* (and 
oue'to Agent,J for $13, and any additional number at the game 
rate. ;$1,MI per copy | A* we ft re obliged to pre-pay the Ameri- 
-au portHgc on papers sort to tiie Rrlllaii Province*, our I'ftna- 
diau aganU and friends must odd VI% cents per copy to (he 
club rale* of tho Kokal. 
gy Sab*orlbers wishing their papers changed from one Port 
Office to another, ehould be particular In specifying the office* 
at which they are now received. 
ARTaunSWO— Brief and appropriate advertisement* will bo 
lnsortad at S3 cent* a Hue, each Insertion, payable In advance- 
Our rule It to give no advertisement, anlese very brief, more 
than four conwcntlvo Insertions Patent Modlclnos, Ac, are 
ool advertised In (he Rural on any condition'- 
Aut poreou so disposed can act as local ngsui tor the 
gxAi.. and all who do *o will not only receive premiums, but 
Heir aid will be gratefully appreciated 
Confidence is a plant of slow growth. 
Great talentB impose great obligations. 
Many persons seek Heaven, who do not seek 
virtue. 
Only the quiet heart can know the grandeur of 
repose. 
Gold gives a ready passport to any gate except 
Heaven’s. 
The heart ia not deeply moved while we count 
its beatings. 
Virtue, like some flowers, blooms often fairest 
in the shade. 
Men, like books, at their beginning and end 
have blank leaves —infancy, aud grey-haired old 
age. 
He that thinks to draw saving graces out of 
natural principles, but Bpins out to die in hiB own 
web. 
Tbeke are many men who delight iu playing 
the fool, but who get angry the moment they are 
told so. 
Keep a low sail at the commencement oi life; 
you may rise with honor, but you cannot recede 
without shame. 
The flowers fade, the heart withers, man grows 
older and dies; but time writes no wrinkles on the 
brow of eternity. 
Tint events of youth are stamped in the memory 
of age, as primeval footmarks made in clay are 
preserved in stone. 
How independent of money peace of conscience 
L, and how much happiness can be condensed in 
the humblest home! 
The best way to silence a talkative person iB 
never to interrupt him. Do not snuff the candle 
and it will go out itself. 
There 1b really us much ability requisite to 
kuow how to make use of good advice, as to know 
how to act for one’s self. 
The soul needs u certain amount of intellectna 
enjoyment to give it Strength adequate forthe daily 
struggle in which it ia involved. 
He that lives in h!u and expects happiness here¬ 
after, is like him that soweth cockle, and thinks to 
fill his barn with wheat or barley. 
scorn ana contempt had seared it into insensibili¬ 
ty; it had then been sparedthe agony oi quivering 
on and on, till the poor heart throbbed too wildly, 
and the weak hands at last were lifted to the strong 
angel, Death, the comforter who acornelh none.— 
Men call it suicide —God calls it murder, aod in b s 
great book of accounts, writes down the murder¬ 
ers’ nameo. Man! who hast oppressed and bur¬ 
dened thy human brother, aud refused to recog¬ 
nize his angel nature; whose hand has been heavy 
upon the poor and him that had no holper, whose 
ear was deaf to the cry of the needy aad him that 
lacked for bread— be sure your name is there; and 
when he maketh inquisition for blood, what w ill it 
avail your answer in the words of that ancient 
murderer—“ Ain I my brother’s keeper?” 
Oh the hells! the Christmas bells! to what a 
world of misery do they bear the echo of the sung 
first heard by Bethlehem’s shepherds from tuneful 
voices above. God speed the day when the blessed 
anthem—“ Peace on earth, good will toward men” 
The autumn winds through the trees were sighing, 
Whose leaves were tinged in tte hues of the dying. 
Who could not tell that they soon mast fall, 
And a mantle of gloom o’ershroud them all. 
Their fibry veins wore the signet plain 
Of a “passing away” in their russet stain. 
Tw&s thus, lite them, on a couch, was lying 
The fading form of a lady—dying. 
The destroyer s seal on her cheek was placed,— 
For the hectic flush could be plainly traced,— 
Ani all knew well that her lorn was wasting, 
And the trjiogjiour of death was banting. 
Oh, beautiful ae there 6 he Uy, 
As the vesper cloud ere it floats aw ay. 
The snowy sheet o’er her breast scarce moved, 
An d still were the friends around she loved. 
But a sob, at len tb, iu a mother’s b east 
Could be no longer within repressed: 
So it welled from its troubled ionot below, 
And opened a vent for her pent-up woe : 
Her tears could no longer within be kept, 
And she sank on her dauihler’e conch and wept 
Then the heart of the d.iixig girl up-heaved 
At the sorrowing sight of her mother grieved, 
And a pitying tear in her soft eye shone, 
As she spoke these words in a low, faint tone: 
“ Oh, mother, do not weep for me: — 
I know ’tis hard to part, 
Aud gisdly I would live for thee, 
To soothe tby sorrowing heart. 
These wasted limbs ought, now to stand, 
Dear mother, 5o thy place ; 
And thine, be mine to hold the hand, 
And kiss tby shrunken face: 
“ For, who will watch thy dy iug bed, 
Aod fan tby fevered brow, 
And weep for thee when thou art dead, 
Ab thou dost for me now ? 
Only for thee I’d wish to live; 
For better 'tis to die; 
‘Life bath no charms that it can give, 
Which Heaven cannot buy.’ 
“ They, mother, when my breathings cease, 
And I am chill aud cold, 
Know that my spirit dwells In peace 
Wit in the Savior’s fold— 
And when yon stand beside the tomb 
Where ‘ Hattie’ soon must lie, 
Look not for me within its gloom. 
But look for me on high. 
PUBLISHER’S NOTICES. 
Clubbing wits tbk Maoaxi.nkb, Ac.—We will send the 
Kcral Nkw-Yokkkk for 1868, and a yearly copy of either 
The Atlantic, Harper's, Godty'e , Graham's, or »Dy other 
$3 magazine, for ?4. The Rural and either The Horti¬ 
culturist, Ilovey s Magazine, Arthur's Magazine, or sny 
Other t'l magazine for $8. 
IllK RURAL as a Pkkbknt. —Our readers are re- 
mluuotl that iu all cases where the Rural is sent to a dis¬ 
tant Mend or relative, as a present, we only charge the 
lowest club price, fl nU. We have already received quite 
a number of orders for copies of the next volume, to be 
sent to distant parts of this country, Canada aud Europe. 
Our lowest price for copies sent to Canada, is $1 02}*. AU( ^ 
to Europe, $2 60 — the extra charge being for postage- 
orrir. Two, Turku, &c.—T here are thousands of 
post offices at each of which only from one to three or five 
copies of the Rural arc now taken. Now this is to spe¬ 
cially invito its friends in such localities to a lit,le 
,-flT^rt to secure clubs of six, ten, twenty, Ac. Every one 
thus situated, can, If he will, easily form ft club, and thus 
secure au extra copy or other valuable reward therefor. 
Volcanoes.— Nature haa reserved mountains as 
the machinery for putting foith her subliiuest spec 
taclep. Her moBt imposing mysteries are acooffi. 
pliulted among the snows and storms that envelope 
their sumini'a, while the central fires that hum 
beneath ibair roots, have been contemplated iu all 
time, as the most terrific manifestations of hie 
power. As we mount these ancient piles, BH-jmtlc 
solitudes, a purer air, fresher vegetation, flower* 
of more brilliant hues, the enlargement of the 
horizon, the expansion of mind, and thoughts 
moro sereue and meditative, seen to whisper ub 
that, in climbing tho domes of the temple of ua- 
lure, we are approaching the throne of tho Eter¬ 
nal Being who fills nature with his presence. 
A fine coat often covers an intolerable fool, but 
never conceals one. 
