249 
♦ 
WHISPERING IN SCHOOL. 
Eds. Rural:— Noticing in your columns an 
article entitled “ Whispering in School,’’ with 
a request that if any of your readers have a 
better plan, or one equally as good, to prevent 
it, the writer would be happy to read It, I 
have ventured to set forth a different plan, al¬ 
though as to its merits, will leave experience 
to teach, if any one should desire to try it. 
Entirely agreeing with the teacher in all his 
views relative to whispering, I would ask this 
question. Has he been entirely successful in 
banishing the evil? Where will you find a 
pupil but that will readily agree with you that 
whispering is useless? or seriously an evil? 
Advanced scholars will testify to the fact that 
really one-third of their time, aud perhaps 
more, has been wasted in this way, and yet 
within my knowledge, no teacher has ever 
entirely prohibited it. In most cases, how 
quickly will a pupil avail himself of the oppor¬ 
tunity, as soon as the teacher’s hack is turned, 
to slyly communicate to his neighbor. 
If the writer should go back to the cause of 
whispering, would he not attribute It in a great 
degree to the arrangement of our common 
school rooms? In how many rooms do we see 
benches running half the length, accommodat¬ 
ing four to six pupils, thus affording ample op¬ 
portunity for all kinds of mischief, of which 
whispering is the basis; while if the seats were 
made to accommodate only one, or two at the 
outside, I think it might be more effectually 
prevented. But it certainly is an evil that can 
not be done away with in a moment. It takes 
time and untiring perseverance on the part of 
the teacher. At the same time there are no 
plans that work alike in different schools. 
What would meet with success in one would 
perhaps utterly fail in another. As characters 
differ in schools, so, also, do schools differ in 
their preference to a certain kind of govern¬ 
ment. In some cases you will find a keener 
perception of right and wrong than in others,— 
thus developing a more strict regard for truth, 
as well as a more hearty wish to obey the wishes 
of the teacher. 
I would advise teachers not to be hasty in 
any mode of treatment, until they have thor¬ 
oughly studied the character and disposition of 
their pupils. Then the first step to be taken is, 
after calling in the morning, to give the pupil an 
opportunity to procure whatever they wish, 
before calling to order. Tlte next, to hear no 
class until it is perfectly quiet, and at the first 
whisper quietly wait until the offender discovers 
he or she is the transgressor. If all is still, the 
whisperer will be heard above everything else, 
thus exposing himself to no very pleasant sen¬ 
sation. A short intermission at ten in the 
morning, and at two in the afternoon, will leave 
the pupil but an hour upon his seat—having 
recess at the usual time. If this should not suc¬ 
ceed, my next plan would be to unfold to the 
pupil the many interest-, they have at stake. 
Impress upon their minds the great principles 
of improvement. Industry aud perseverance; 
that without these they can do nothing—how 
short a time they have to acquire an education, 
at the same time striving to win their confidence 
and good will; for without that no plan will 
successfully work. After reasoning with them 
in this manner until they fully understand your 
meaning, ask them if they do not think much 
of their time is uselessly spent in whispering, 
and if they would not like to entirely banish the 
evil? Then make your request that it be stop¬ 
ped, being careful that it be tiuged with no 
authority. 
If any teacher should try either of these 
plans, or the two combined, I think It will as 
effectually remedy the evil as it is possible for it 
to be remedied. Still, if there are better plans, 
I should like to hear thorn, for I desire improve¬ 
ment. S. M. 1’alm hr. 
Liberty, Mich., 1861 
THE NEWSPAPER IN SCHOOL. 
lx this fast age the newspaper is that to 
which we all cling in order to keep up with the 
times. It forms a part of the daily reading of 
everybody; the whole, of many; and among 
our business men, becomes a study. 
Many do not derive the advautage they might 
in reading It; but lie who neglects it most, per¬ 
haps, is the teacher. Outside his province as 
teacher, ho may hastily read it for his own in¬ 
formation and amusement, but inside the school 
room it is proscribed as contraband, and contls- 
cated when found there, lest it should prove 
more interesting and practical than the classics, 
or more entertaining than mathematics. 
What is the consequence of this proscription? 
The scholar grows up, and oftentimes graduates, 
without having learned intelligently to read the 
dally newspaper. His first lessons are taken at 
horns, and if ho has no one near, sufficiently 
posted to answer his numerous questions, ho 
must labor under great disadvantage. He must 
learn the location of the news, the politics ol’ 
the editor, the contents of the different columns, 
aud many of the editorial allusions are to him 
blind allusions, for want of earlier reading. 
He turns to the market and reads, flour, firm; 
pork, dull; cotton, active, Ac., Ac. lie looks 
tor stocks, hut is lost in the maze of abrevia- 
tiousand figures that meets his eye; a medley 
beyond his comprehension. U. S. b-20's and 
'•30's. coupou bonds, E. C. A C., P. 11. W. & 
I t_\ it, q., consols and Mariposa gold, were 
not in his arithmetic. Scrip dividends, sterling 
; exchange, and partnerships, lie has by this 
time forgotten, never having fully compre¬ 
hended their meaning. 
Hut, beside the new matter found in the uews- 
• paper, how often will it illustrate a familiar sub¬ 
ject so forcibly as to render it entirely new? 
Since the beginning of tbis war, how much 
geography and military science has this nation 
learned from its newspapers; and there is 
hardly a subject taught in our schools which 
can not at some time find iilustration there. 
Teacher, did you ever take your morning paper 
with you, and read to your school some interest¬ 
ing fact, or new idea? Did you observe what 
attention was given to your reading: what dis¬ 
cussions arose, after school, upon the subject 
presented; and how earnestly the story was 
repeated to father or mother at home? 
The child has not yet learned to read for him¬ 
self; but thus awaken his interest, and see how 
soon he will seize the paper of his own accord, 
and in the end, gain almost as much practical 
infornifition from its pages as he now does during 
the hours of school. 
Here, our self-made men have gained much of 
their valuable knowledge; and the greater 
number of our politicians, both their creed and 
arguments. Here, too, w r e converse with our 
statesmen, lawyers, scholars and divines; here 
we read what our merchants, mechanics and 
manufacturers have to say to us, and more than 
all we are interested by the stoi'ies of that army 
of correspondents, w ho aliow us to see with 
their eyes, and feel what they ex-pericncc. 
Why do you neglect this vast store of know l¬ 
edge. Why not give your scholars the benefit 
of it in early life, and thus the sooner and the 
better fit them for the duties and the difficulties - 
of the future. An instructive lesson for ‘‘gen¬ 
eral exercise ” can he drawn from the papers 
dally, and you can hardly imagine, until you 
have made a judicious trial, what a means of 
education the newspaper can become. 
DRAWING. 
“ Please may I make pictures on my slate, 
I’ve learned all my lessons?” 
Teacher, did you never hear that inquiry 
from thelipsof a pupil! Or, perhaps, in passing 
around the room, your attention has beeu ar¬ 
rested by the slate of some pupil filled with 
curious drawings. Did you never yourself, in 
youthful days, draw houses with partitions 
plainly visible on the outside, with chair and 
sofas of doubtful strength filling the rooms: or 
imitate Squire Jones’ long nose in an elaborate 
profile? What does this picture-love iu chil¬ 
dren indicate, and shall its expression on slate 
and paper be allowed and cultivated; is the in¬ 
quiry I would seek to make. The imagination 
in this, as in other respects, has been too much 
neglected in children. Picture drawing, if al¬ 
lowed at all. has been merely to occupy the 
attention of the smallest of the restless fingers. 
Let the child draw upon his slate or paper. 
What? Dogs with three legs, uncouth imita¬ 
tions of the human face and form, trees which 
are anything but graceful? Shall the time of 
the pupils be wasted in such nonsense? No, 
not this, but is there not need of training chil¬ 
dren In the common schools In the first princi¬ 
ples of drawing ? Teach them to make a stra ight 
line, and how these straight lines may be com¬ 
bined to form objects known and familiar to 
them; from this proceeding to curves and com¬ 
binations of these, tell them that all the beauti¬ 
ful flowers, the houses, the children's faces, are 
but combinations of these simple lines and 
curves. What child will not be interested? 
And not only for the purpose of interest should 
the subject receive attention In our schools. 
As a means of improvement to the child, in cul¬ 
tivating accuracy of sight, as tending to develop 
imagination, and for very many kindred reasons 
it should not thus suffer neglect. It has beeu 
too long confined to the “ finishing ” of board¬ 
ing school misses, who showed to admiring 
friends, landscapes and crayon heads, no small 
part of which was Ihe work of the teacher, but 
addiug to the accomplishments ot the individual. 
The science in its simplicity has been overlooked, 
first principals have beeu neglected, children 
have yawned and whispered, dropped wearily 
asleep iu the dull school room, because the 
teacher has forbidden, or knew not how to teach 
the making of pictures. Shall this continue to 
be ? Can we not help iu this to bring the science 
down into the every day atlairs of the school 
room, or, rather, to bring tho minds of little 
children up through varied lines and curves, 
into a higher plane of culture and sphere of 
action ?— Common School Journal. 
Satirical Talkers and Writers.— Satir¬ 
ical writers and talkers arc not half so clever as 
they think themselves, nor as they are thought 
to be. They do not winnow the com, ’tis true, 
but ’tis to feed on tho chaff. It is much easier 
for an ill-natured than for a good-natured man 
to be witty; but the most gifted that I have 
kuown. have been the least addicted to depre¬ 
date either friends or foes. Dr. Johnson, 
Burke, and Fox were always more inclined to 
overrate them. Your shrewd, shy, wit speak¬ 
ing fellow, is generally a shallow personage, 
aud frequently he is ;is venomous and as false 
when ho flatters, as when he reviles; he seldom 
blames John but to vex Thomas. Do not, pray 
do not, sit in the ‘‘seat of the seorncr.” Are 
these poor, heartless creatures to be envied? 
Can you think that the Due de Richelieu was a 
happier man thau Fenelon ? or Dean Swift than 
Bishop Berkeley ?— Sharpe. 
— --- 
A Tortured Word. —There is probably not 
another word in the English language that can 
l>o worse “twisted ” than that which composes 
the burden of the following hues: 
Write wo know is written right, 
When wc sec It written write; 
But when we see it written wrlght. 
We know tis not then written right; 
For write, to have it written right, 
Must uot be written right nor wrlght, 
Nor yet should It be written rite, 
But write—for so ’tis written right. 
The Sensations of the Wounded. 
I remember no acute sensation of pain, 
not even any distinct shot, only an instanta¬ 
neous consciousness of having beeu hit; then 
my breath came very hard and labored, 
with a croup-like sound, and with a dull, 
aching feeling in my right shoulder, my arm 
fell powerless at my side, aud the Enfield 
dropped from my grasp. I threw my left hand 
up to my throat and withdrew it covered with 
warm, red blood. The end had come at last. 
But, thank God, it was death in battle. Only 
let me get back out of that deathly storm and 
breathe away the few minutes that were left 
me of life in some place of comparative rest and 
security. It all rushed to my mind in an instant. 
I turned aud rushed to the rear, A comrade 
brushed by me wounded through the hand, who 
a moment before was firing away close to my 
side. 
I saw re-enforcements moving up, and I recol¬ 
lect a thrill of joy even then, as I hoped that 
the tide of battle might yet be turned, and those 
rebel masses beaten back, broken, foiled. 
But my work was done. I was growing 
faint and weak, although not yet half way out 
of range of lire. A narrow space between two 
massive boulders, over which rested the trunk 
of a fallen tree, offered refuge and a hope of 
safety from further danger. I crawled into it 
and laid down to die. I counted the minutes 
before I must bleed to death. I bad no more 
hope of seeing the new year on the morrow 
than I now have of outliving the next century. 
Thank God, death did not seem so dreadful, 
now that it had come. And then, the sareitice 
was not ail in vain, falling thus in God’s own 
holy cause of freedom. But home and friends! 
Oh. the rush of thought then! 
Let the veil be drawn here. The temple of 
memory has its holy place, into which only one’s 
own soul may, once iu a great season, solemnly 
enter. 
And so I lay there, with my head pillowed 
on my blanket, while the battle raged and 
swelled again around and over me —bullets 
glancing from the sides of stone that sheltered 
me, or sinking into the log above me, find shot 
and shell crashed through the tree tops and fell 
all about me. Two shells, I remember, struck 
scarcely ten feet from me and in their explosion 
covered me with dirt and splinters, but that 
was alh Still I lived on. I smile now as I 
think of it, how I kept raising my left hand to see if 
the finger nails were growing white and pur¬ 
ple, as they do when one bleeds to death, and 
wondered to find them still warm and ruddy. 
Hemorrhage must have ceased almost, and then 
came the instincts of existence, which said, 
“Live.’’ 
Then came the agonv of waiting for removal 
from the field. How I longed and looked for 
some familiar face, as our men charged twice 
up into that wood! directly over me, butthey be¬ 
longed to another division an j had other work 
to do than bearing off the wounded. 
A Rebel Woman Converted. 
At the invitation of a friend, and while in 
Pulaski on business, the writer sat at meat, not 
only with republicans and sinners, hut also with 
rebels. A young lady did the honors of the 
table most gracefully, taking great pains in 
pouring out the essence of Java Into cups of 
china, to display to good advantage the daintiest 
taper fingers in the world. Withal she was 
very pretty. 
The usual table talk began, when my friend, 
who well understood her secession proclivities, 
turned to her, and pleasantly remarked:. 
“ Mr.-, my friend and our guest, has two 
relatives in the South—tsvo brothers in the rebel 
army.” 
'• Is that true ? ” They are fighting in a good 
cause,” she said, spiritedly. 
I replied, “No doubt they think so," and had 
hoped to avoid a discussion of that most of all 
unpleasant subject. In this I was doomed to 
disappointment. 
•• How can you, Mr.-, fight against them ? ” 
she continued, half angrily. 
“ I am not fighting or willing to fight against 
relatives, but for a principle, a llag, a Govern¬ 
ment. Nor am I in the loyal army because I 
hate the South, for iu my opinion that man who 
cannot rise above sectional animosities, is not 
equal to the emergency! Due cau give no 
greater proof that he loves hts whole country, 
than that he is willing to die for its salvation." 
A warm discussion ensued, in which the young 
lady became angry at everybody in general, 
aud myself in particular. But I could not wish 
her any harm, auy way. And when a few days 
afterwards, her brother was caught iu the act 
of burning a railroad bridge, and she could 
be seen, iu her despair, imploringly asking, 
“ Will tho authorities hang him, my poor, dear 
brother?’’ I was glad to offer her my heartfelt 
sympathy. 
This same young lady, so warm an advocate 
of Southern rights, has since married a Yankee 
officer. 
A Trading Yankee Sergeant. 
A correspondent writing from before 
Petersburg, relates tho following:—A sergeant 
stepped out from a rifle-pit Sunday, awl moved 
toward the enemy, waving a late paper, regard¬ 
less of the probability that he would at any 
moment be shot. A rebel offeer shouted to him 
io go back, but tho sergeant was uuinindful of 
the warning, and asked, “ Won’t you exchange 
newspapers?’’—“No,” said the rebel, "1 have 
no paper, and I want you to go back.” With 
this singular persistence the sergeant continued 
to advance, saying, “ Well, If you hain’t a paper, 
I reckon some of your men have, and I want to 
exchange, I tell you,” “ My men have not got 
anything of the kind, and you must go back,” 
said the officer in a louder tone and with great 
emphasis. 
Nothing daunted, the Yankee sergaut still ad¬ 
vanced until ho stood plumply before the indig- 
nantoffieer and said: —“ I tell ye now you needn’t 
get yer dander up. I don’t mean no harm no 
way. P’raps if ye ain’t got no newspaper ye 
might give me sutbin else. May be your men 
would like some coffee for some tobacco. I’m 
dreadful anxious for a trade.” The astonished 
officer, could only repeat his command —“Go 
back, you rascal, or I’ll take you a prisoner. I 
tell you we have nothing to exchange, and we 
don’t want anything to do with you Yankees.” 
The sergeant said, ruefully:— “ Well, then if 
you hain’t got nothin’, why here’s the paper, 
anyway, and if you get one from Richmond 
this afternoon, you cau send it over. You’ll 
find my name thar on that.” 
The man’s impudence or the officer’s eager¬ 
ness for news made* him accept. He took the 
paper and asked the sergeant what was the 
news from Petersburg. “ Oh! our folks say 
we can go in there just when we want to, but 
we are waiting to gobble all you fellows first,” 
was tire reply. “ Well, I don’t know but what 
you can do it,” said the lieutenant, turning on 
his heel and re-entering his rifle pits. “ mean¬ 
while, my man, you had better go hack.” 
This time the sergeant obeyed the oft-repeated 
order, and on telling his adventure, was the 
hero of the morning among his comrades. 
The Michigan Soldier and his Wife 
Among the passengers on the New Y'ork 
express train up on the Hudson River Railroad 
on Monday was a brave fellow from the Army of 
the Potomac, with a comrade accompanying 
him, both dressed in the uniform of the United 
States, with canteens, Ac. At the first glance 
nothing uncommon could be detected iu the 
looks of the pair, nor should we have been able 
to recite the romantic history connected with the 
couple were we not made acquainted with it by 
a friend, who was told it by a hospital nurse. 
It appears that at the breaking out of the re¬ 
bellion, these lovers for one of them was a 
young girl dressed in the garb of a soldier) were 
engaged to be married, which ceremony must 
either be postponed on account of the lover 
going to defend the flag of his country, or else the 
marriage must take place, and his fair inamorata 
must follow him. She chose the latter, and 
married they were, he enlisting afterward in the 
Second Michigan regiment as a private, and she, 
donning the “blue,” followed him. 
Amid the crash of shot and shell at the bat¬ 
tle of the Wilderness, this heroic girl stood by 
the side of her husband, and with her good 
musket defended him. and struck for her coun¬ 
try at the heart of the chivalry. Passing 
through that desperate fight they pressed on 
with their regiment to the bloody field of Spott- 
sylrania, where the brave Michigander had his 
arm broken by a piece of shell. Seeing him f 
fall, she bound up his wound, and raising him 
from the grouud, amid the thickest of the light, 
she carried him to the rear, and placing him on 
a caisson, which was about starting back for 
ammunition, she had the satisfaction of seeing 
him carried to a place of safety, he being soon 
after conveyed to Carver Hospital, the heroine 
and young wife attending him until he got well 
enough to start for their home in the far West, 
they being en route for there yesterday. 
The Burial of the First Born. 
Returning, we saw a newly-opened grave. 
It was for a Michigan boy of eighteen, who 
had been shot down at the side of his father, 
who was a private in the same company. The 
father sat beside the grave, carving the boy’s 
name upon a rude head-board. It was his first 
bora. I took him by the hand, and gave him 
all my heart: offered a prayer, which Brother 
Holmes followed with appropriate words. 
There was no coffin, hut a few pieces of board 
were laid in the bottom of the grave, between 
the body and the bare ground. “ Wrap him in 
this blanket," said the father, “it is one his 
sister sent him. Ah, me, how will they bear it 
at hornet What will his poor mother do! She 
must have a lock of his hair.’’ 
I stooped to cut the look with my peukuife, 
when a soldier came forward with a pair 
of scissors from hi;> little ••house-wife." My 
heavt blessed the Sabbath-school child who had 
made that timely gift. And so, haviug rendered 
the last offices of faith and affection, we laid the 
brave boy in his grave, while the cannon were 
still roaring the doom of others, young and brave, 
whom wc had just left on the field. 
The Meeting and the Parting 
In one of the tierce engagements with the 
rebels uear Meehauicsville in May last, a young 
lieutenant of a Rhode Island battery had his 
right foot so shattered by a fragment of shell 
that, on reaching Washington after oue of those 
horrible ambulance rides, and a journey of a 
week’s duration, he was obliged to undergo am¬ 
putation of the leg. He telegraphed home 
hundreds of miles away that all was going well, 
and with a soldier’s fortitude composed himself 
to bear his sufferings alone. 
Unknown to him. however, his mother, one 
of those dear reserves of the army, hastened up 
to join the main force. She reached the city at 
midnight, and the nurses would have kept her 
from him until morniug. One sat by his side 
fanning him :u tie slept, her hand on the feeble 
fluctuating pulsations which foreboded sad re¬ 
sults. But what woman’s heart could resist the 
pleadings of a mother then? Iu the darkness 
she was finally allowed to glide in and hike the 
place at his side. She touched his pulse as the 
nurse had done; not a word had been spoken, 
but the sleeping boy opened his eyes and said, 
“ that feels like my mother’s hand; who is this 
beside me ? It is my mother; turn up the gas 
and let me see my mother! ” 
The two dear faces met in one long, joyfub 
sobbing embrace, and the fondness pent up in 
each heart sobbed and panted, and wept forth 
its expression. 
The gallant fellow, just twenty-one, his leg 
amputated on the last day of his three years’ 
service, underwent operation after operation, 
and at last, when death drew nigh, and he was 
told by tearful friends that it only remained to 
make him comfortable, sajd, “he had looked 
death in the face too many times to be afraid 
now,” and died as gallantly as did the men of 
the Cumberland. 
Tru6t in Providence. 
Between our hues stands a house, known 
as the Sheridan House, in which are quite a 
large family of women, one of whom is rin 
critical health. General Hancock has [sent 
them word to come to a place of safety in side 
of our line, volunteering at the same time am¬ 
bulances for their conveyance; but they have 
declined accepting his oilers thus far, pleading 
that they were members of the church, and in 
good standing, ami had implicit trust In Provi¬ 
dence. Fifty-seven shells were sent through 
the house yesterday, but none of the women 
were injured, they having taking refuge in the 
celler. This morning they have more confi¬ 
dence than ever, since they escaped so well yes¬ 
terday. 4 
Shooting All the Week. 
The 66th Illinois Infantry, or Western 
Sharpshooters, as they call themselves, one of 
the best regiments in the. 16th corps, use the 
Henry rifle, which, when fully charged, shoots 
sixteen times. Generally it is employed as 
a skirmish regiment. Speaking of these guns, 
some of the rebel prisoners at Dallas remarked: 
“Whatkind of guns do your sharpshooters 
use? We are forced to believe that they are 
loaded on Sunday so that they’ll shoot all the 
rest of the week! And ” — alluding to the 
peculiar motion of priming these fire-arms no 
doubt—“such soldiers! why they are the most 
polite fellows we ever saw, for every time 
they kill any ope of us they come to a present 
arms! ” 
{®3! tte ifeimg. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HISTORICAL ENIGMA 
I am composed of So letters. 
My 35, 5, 40. 2,16, S3, IS ii the place where printing was 
invented. 
My 69, 78, 62, 9, S2, 55, 34,10 was a great astronomer. 
My 22, 51, 27, 77, 70 was an illustrious Englishman. 
My 60,10, 41, 89,14 was an ancient philosopher. 
My 82, *14, 58,10,11, 42, 34, 67 was a battle which deci¬ 
ded the fate of Athens. 
My 41, si, 50, ll, 81, 22, 51. 62, 50 was a duelist and a 
traitor 
My 1, 34,19, 1 82. 51,10, 2, 8 was a Grecian hero. 
My 35, 67,56, it, 35,26,3 was the founder of the religion 
of Arabia. 
My 72,14, 35, 15, 62 was a Grecian poet. 
My 30, 2S, 52,73, 50 was supposed by the ancients to 
carry the earth on his shoulders. 
My 71, 7, 65, 51, S destroyed Jerusalem. 
My 76, 32, 6, S3, 82, 48 was a part of Greece. 
My 61, SI, 82, 63,75, 51, 58 was a brilliant Latin author. 
My 34,20,74, Si, 31,21 were a fabled race of giants. 
My 76, 13, 25, 36,52,15 governed the Huns. 
My 4, 23,60.46, 5, 87, 82, 20, 85 was formed of seven 
Saxon kingdoms. 
My 60, 45. 08, 49, 78, 82, 11. 8, 54 was a Jewisu festival. 
My 66, 2, 52. 61, 82,11,16 was a hill in Bceotia. 
My 43, 45, 10, 60, 33, 57 was the renowned oracle of 
Apollo. 
My SO, 51,17, 51,2, 42,11,79 was a name formerly given 
to a Protestant in France. 
My 84, 38, 73, 63, IS was formerly a person of some dig¬ 
nity in England. 
My 12, 47, 20, 37 was a political party in England in the 
seventeenth century 
My whole is a proverb 
Bedford, Ohio, 1S64. Castor. 
Eg*” Answer in two weeks. 
-- 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ENIGMA 
Muslim ou time, and thinking of song, 
When on a tour, as wejumey along, 
Our addition-table is queerly begun, • 
Instead of thirteen, ten and three are one. 
Thirsty and weary, a resting place seek, 
Where water and air cool the fevered cheek: 
Trudging through dust, looking at the sun, 
The jolly band goes, expecting some fan. 
Ye Astrologers and Seers, I will pardon you 
If you add eleven and three and make it two. 
By the some rule, fairly it will be, 
Add nine and six. and you will have three. 
If rightly done, you will plainly see 
Into this donbtfnl misty mystery. 
Cambridge, Pa., 1861. l. e. 
rsr Answer in two weeks 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ANAGRAM. 
OT ETtl RUALB. 
Mirf ni vtli pusoepr, tasfdaest ni nyt tuia, 
Daronu ethe si riegilen ghih dna ellw neared mefa; 
Ngirusen rof tyh fturue roudp susscec, 
Nawrd morf hte oumf fo reeomdf dan eth sersp. 
Clymer, N. Y. r 1S64' Welthik Upton. 
izr Answer in two weeks 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN No. 757. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—Constant drop¬ 
ping wears away stones. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma: — A wholesome 
tongue is a tree of life. 
Answer to Anagrams of Places:—Dunkirk, Utica, 
Poughkeepsie, Fishkiil, Rome, Ithaca, Smyrna, Ge¬ 
neva. 
Answer to Anagram: 
Thy neighbor? it is he whom thou 
Hast power to aid and bless, 
Whose aebing heart and burning brow 
Thy soothing hand may press- 
. .TV 
