FUN, FACT, AND FANCY, 
Wbucrtiscmcnts 
comforter and the balm of time to soothe the pain 
of my first loss! 
Some one has said that women think too mnch of 
words. Perhaps they do, but it is ont of the power 
of wives to interpret deeds rightly always, and a little 
word is so sweet, so strengthening to the faint heart! 
Laugh as the cold world may over household endear¬ 
ments, T pity the wife who does not crave them, and 
more still, the one who craves them in vain. Deeds 
arc mighty—hut words add to their value a countless 
fold. Our puritanic and expressionless relatives 
feared we had reached our dotage early, but it is still 
prolonged. 
A sweet woman said to me hut yesterday, “Grand¬ 
mother, I could forgive my husband much of neglect, 
much of failure in hi* purposes, if he would only 
say pleasant things to me,—if he would set each day 
around with beautiful and loving words. And I un¬ 
derstood her by the memory of that heart-silence 
between Mr. Overton and myself. 
Expression has had a great growth since we were 
married, and many heartaches will be allayed which 
grew to festering when I was young. If a woman 
loves her husband, why should she be ashamed to 
avow it? The world presume as much; why be so 
fearful of proving it by honest assertions? If a man 
spends the best energies of his life for the woman 
who wearB his name, why should he blush to ac¬ 
knowledge his affection by a title of endearment? 
Michacdmas is almost here, and the fifty years are 
nearly gone; but there is a beautiful world before ns, 
and T pray we be not long separated. Mr. Overton 
is looking at me across the journal he has been read¬ 
ing, while T pen tbiB unsteady ohirography, and his 
eyes are not ho full ol darkness and fire—a little soft¬ 
ened in their hue, but very tender; and he says, 
without a thought if it is silly, 
“Molly, darling, don’t tire yourself with that pen. 
Did you know the June roses were out? Never mind 
if they are gone in November, there’ll be plenty in 
the green-houses,” and I go over to him, and he 
pushes my cap buck a little and adds, 
“Not so very gray, wife; we'll go before it’s all 
white, Pm thinking, to see baby Ellen; but our chil¬ 
dren will grieve, and so will all the little Ellens who 
call grandpa and grandma so often;” and he grew 
silent, and so will 1, only adding, “ Words are very 
pleasant when they are sweet, and don’t cost any 
trouble.” 
Daniel Overton’s wish has been realized. I have 
not repented, and neither has he .—Home Monthly. 
THE BLOOMING OF VIOLETS. 
The man who lives for himself alone, lives for a 
mean fellow. 
Those who jump at conclusions are apt to fall 
upon uncertainties. 
Keef a big heart in your chest, but don’t keep it 
in your money chest. 
Who lets one sit on his shoulders shall have him 
presently sit on his head. 
An upright minister asks, what recommends a 
man; a corrupt minister, who. 
Some one wants to know whether the initials “ C. 
S. A.” means, “ Can’t stand Abe.” 
Between points, the straight line is shortest; yet 
prudence and love often go by the curve. 
Men will wrangle for religion; write for it; fight 
for it; die for it; anything but — live for it. 
Most men like a spirit of self-sacrifice in their 
friends a great deal better than in themselves. 
In our attempt to deceive the world, those are the 
most likely to detect us, who are sailing on the same 
tack. 
The happiness of every one depends more on his 
own mind, than npon any or all external circum¬ 
stances. 
Men who think that everything can be bought 
with their own wealth, have been bonght them¬ 
selves first. 
The men whom men respect, the women whom wo¬ 
men approve, are the men and women who bless 
their species. 
Many people, like fairytales, are simple in perusal, 
hut contain some subtle maxim, some cunning truth, 
in their moral. 
Men tell a great many lies when they are angry, 
hut more truths. Then they strike through theories 
and tell what they think. 
None are so seldom found alone, and are so soon 
tired of their own company, as those coxcombs who 
are on the best terms with themselves. 
If a pair of oxen stand up against each other in 
walking, it is a sign they are not well matched. 
When lovers do bo, it is a sign they want to be. 
A man who covers himself with costly apparel, 
and neglects his mind, is like one who illuminates 
the outside of his house and sits within in the dark. 
It is a great blunder in the pursuit of happiness 
not to know when we have got it; that is, not to bo 
content with a reasonable and possible measure of it. 
He who writes against the abuses of the age in 
which he lives, must depend on the generosity of the 
few for his bread and the malice of the many for his 
fame. 
Lady Many Woktly Montague observed, that in 
the whole course of her long and extensive travels, 
she had found but two sorts of people, men and 
women. 
The horse “warranted to stand without tying,” 
which a man bonght at auction the other day, is 
offered for sale by the purchaser, with the additional 
guaranty that “ he will not move without whipping.” 
Men’s lives should be like the day, more beautiful 
iu the evening; or like the summer, aglow with 
promise; and the autumn, rich with the golden 
sheaves where good works and deeds have ripened 
ou the field. , 
Those who visit foreign nations, but who associate 
only with their own countrymen, change their cli¬ 
mate but not their customs; they Bee new meridians, 
but the same man; and with heads as empty as their 
pockets, return home with traveled bodies but un- 
traveled minds. 
Ah 1 cast those gloomy thoughts aside, 
The gonial Spring ig here ; 
She comes with all her violets t 
To hies* another year : 
I.o, rising at her welcome voice, 
They steal in gladness out, 
And, wish’d for long, the light, warm South 
Is harping all about. 
By garden walk and rustic fence, 
Fair hush and rude gray stone, 
They laugh among the leaves and grass, 
Tn pnrpio clusters strewn :— 
Retiring from the gaze of men, 
They lurk, a bashful race. 
Rut every breeze that wander* by, 
Reveal* their hiding-place. 
While, heedless of their own sweet worth, 
They quail the shining dew, 
Or catch, from God's eternal arch, 
Its deep and stainless blue, • 
Go, mark thou well the scents and dyes 
To them so freely given, 
And own that weak and lowly things 
Are yet most loved of Heaven. 
Then drop this weary load of care, 
Be meekly glad as they, 
Nor fear to live like them unseen, 
To pass unseen away 
Learn thou with joy to stand or fall 
Where sacred duty leadB, 
And prize, above renown or gold, 
Bure faith and holy deeds. 
James Gilborne Lyons. 
MANUFACTlUtEn BY 
ROSS, DODGE & POMROY, 
•• " *vf mprituvr 
I. The carriage of the machine is mounted on two driving 
wheels. In connect on wi'h each of thews is a spur wheel ami 
pinion, making the machine stronger and more durable than 
an v singlC-Beared roach inr, can be. 
•j. The Tciation between these two driving wheels is such that 
thev operate jointly or separately, as circumstances may rp. 
qoire. The result of thin is. that when the machine ismoviz 
on a curve, cither to the right or left, the risu.tl speed of the 
knife is retained and clogging avoided, and in turningand inert 
ing, tlic machine tii rows Itself out ol' gear. 
X The weight of the carnage and gearing attached to it, at 
well a- that of both raker and driver, U thrown directly upon 
the two driving wheels, try which the following advantages an; 
gained- 1st The wheel* are prevented from slipping on the 
ground, and thus prevent the machine clogging. 2d. A power¬ 
ful and efficient stroke to the knile in produced, enabling the 
machine to cut.any kind of gru>.s or grain without difficulty. - 
3d. No weight lieitig thrown on cither the platform or eutter- 
bnr tut that of it* own. arde-rtrait Is obviated, and the machine 
made to run lighter 
4 The machine, both ir a Reaper and Mower, has a flexible 
cutter-har, which invariably adapts itself to the uneven surface 
of the ground. This is the hrst successful machine that ever 
combined this principle, and it is now an almost universally 
admitted fact among intelligent farmers nnd mechanic* that it 
is impossible to construct a good Mowing Machine without hav¬ 
ing a tlcrrible cutter-bar and two driving wheels. 
By and by I was strong again, and Mr. Overton 
helped me walk out into the summer sunshine, which 
was not half so fair and sweet and warm as that 
which I prisoned on my memory, and which came 
when ihe curtains were parted in the dim room. Just 
before the baby came, Mr. Overton brought me the 
“ Vision of Don Roderick,” and “The Lady of the 
Lake,” and my very soul swam in ideal beauty, and 
grew wild with chivalric deeds. It was with many 
days’ hesitancy, and much fear of defeat, that I inti¬ 
mated that my new treasure must be called Ellen 
Douglass, instead of one hunted from sacred history, 
as ail the family nomenclature had been; and to my 
utter consternation, Mr. Overton replied— 
“ Yes, Molly, 1 have been thinking of it, hut feared 
yon would not he^pleased; and 1 am certain it will 
have little on its baptismal day in way of cups or 
spoons from the relations. We must choose between 
the two,- - a name to please ourselves, or run the risk 
of Dorcas or Sarepta, and the silver.” 
So it was called Ellon. Douglass, and we felt the 
holy horror of its annealers, maternal and paternal, 
when the good man uttered it, and its faint, pleasant 
sound lifted itself to the severe outlines of the walls 
of the old-fftallioned church, and swept over the long 
black lines of Russia pipe which modified the winter 
air, and served fur the spiders to suspend their silky 
drapery upon in the summertime. 
But, the tones of the clergyman’s voice, as ho let the 
name slip over his lips in deep, rich cadcnccd sound, 
revealed the fact that it stirred the human and sym¬ 
pathetic in his own soul, and thftt he read other 
metered hooks beside the psalms and hvrmis of Dr. 
Watts. I think I never venerated him so much as at 
that moment. Me had been a Theological Epitome 
of goodness and wisdom before; now, his heart, as 
well as soul, seemed lifted to my highest ideal 
standard of a perfect man. 
There was no silver goblet, no pap-spoon, or coral 
and bells, from its grandparents. They came often to 
see it, but looked pitifully into its chubbv face, as if 
it bad been marked with some unnatural disfigure¬ 
ment, and always called it “ the child.” 
The good minister gave it a Bible, with gold clasps, 
on which was engraven the name in lull, and the 
elder relatives sighed and one said, “The days when 
the prophets in Israel shall become as one of the 
world are upon us, but may the Lord restore him;” 
and we did not say amen. 
This new' love which came to me was one for legit¬ 
imate expression, and it was enjoyed to the fullest ex¬ 
tent. All the pretty names of words, waters, and 
blossoms, were chanted over its cradle; all the bird- 
notes which could be keyed by my voice were uttered 
for the baby in the stillness of our own room. In 
truth it became the exclusive receptacle of all the 
affection that was awake in my soul. 
Mr. Overton began very soon to neglect the child— 
to neglect me,—at least 1 thought so, and so 1 bai led 
my heart in the cradle deeper and deeper each day. 
If I sometimes felt the absence of his pleasant glance, 
the bitby smiled and crowed the remembrance of the 
want out of rny heart,. 
The year crept stilly away from us, and another 
summer was crowned with her roses aud golden wheat 
heads, but there w r as no sweetness, no beauty for me. 
I had learned the incompleteness of my life, and 
wept over the child whose ears had taken iu so many 
sounds of song. 
I did not understand then, hut I do now, that a 
father can. bo jealous of his child. My mother saw 
the lack of love between the father and daughter, 
and ventured the hint that it was the unhallowed 
name that stood between them. 
My mother’s name was Corafort-ye-my-people, but 
she did not fulfill its suggestions. No one can tell 
how I longed to receive one word of affection from 
Mr. Overton. He had never uttered odc, save when 
the curtains parted over me that faint morning, nnd 
to comfort, myself I redoubled my endearments to 
the child, until he. my husband, said hitter and re¬ 
proachful words to me for my silly fondness, and 
said lie had never heard such foolishness from liis 
mother, and she was a model. Every married man’s 
mother is, I believe. He never uttered anything 
more positive, and easier received as fact, than that. 
But it was very bitter to bear. I was a good house¬ 
keeper, I was certain, and had that reputation among 
my friends, hut it. was astonishing how many things 
Mr. Overton found out of order, nnd how many re¬ 
quirements he made of me. He was as exacting as 
if T had been a recording machine. 0, how wretched 
I should have been but for my baby! It was my 
Comfort, save God, and be took the child! 
I cannot talk of those first days of shadow, nay, 
of utter darkness; but, thank Heaven, they passed, 
and left the soft, sweet sunshine of faith in a here¬ 
after with my newly-made angel, and brought back 
my husband to love and its satisfying expressions. 
When the little hands grew rigid in their dimpled 
beauty, aDd could no more fondle my own, and the 
little shelly lips purpled into stilluess, Daniel Over- 
ton first told me he loved me, and begged me to 
forget the baby, aud rest my heart upou his great 
affection. Death took the seal of silence from his 
tongue, and he confessed how ho grudged the little 
creature the sweet words so constantly bestowed 
upon it—how unjust he had been to her and to me, 
A PLEA FOR WORDS 
BY MRS. 0. H. GII.DEK8LEE VE 
We have not been as happy as we expected to he, 
Mr. Overton and I, though neither of us acknowledged 
it to the other. Wo loved each other as devotedly, 
though seriously and properly, as most married 
people do. We were not better than the generality 
of civilized humanity, and, if the truth must he told, 
we thanked God that we were no worse. Wc were a 
trifle romantic iu our natures, though both strove, 
for very shame, to hide this little fault in our mental 
construction. Yes, it must be a fault, else why 
should the blood tingle up to the roots of my brown 
hair, and to the edges of Mr. Overton’s whiskers, and 
over his broad, white forehead, when some sudden 
event made us let down the floodgates of feeling, and 
permit unawares the expression of emotions to flow 
forth in a sweet, quick stream of words? Mr. Over- 
ton said “my dear” sounded very well if spoken to 
a child, hut it was excessively mawkish if addressed 
to a husband or wife; and as for “my love,” and 
other appellatives, they were simply detestable. If 
he thought so, ami said so, why of course I said so, 
and thought so, too. 1 insisted that true affection 
could not he hightonnd, or the counterfeit made to 
have the true ring by keying it to pet names, and 1 
was right; but then,— ipiver mind, I’ll go on with my 
talk. 
Let me see,—our golden wedding eomoH at Michael¬ 
mas, just six months from now, and it don’t seem so 
very long to look back to the first one, except over 
that stretch of days when we were parted at heart, 
and that is more to see across than all the rest. 
I remember when Daniel Overton first asked mo to 
marry him, but I can’t remember the time when I 
knew I was to he his wife by signs, and not by any 
expression of words. In fact, he never syllabled any 
love for me, bnt showed me simple and commonplace 
attentions which, by the customs and usages of our 
undemonstrative New Englanders, meant, to show 
forth a preference for my society that should be per¬ 
petual. I was content, because, except in the few 
novels I had read, either surreptitiously or under 
protest, 1 did not know what the word wooing meant. 
Sometimes, it is (rue, I rather wished I might have 
been one of those mythical heroines, but I would as 
soon have expected to possess the mill and pumpkin 
from which Cinderella’s coach sprung, when she was 
in need of it. 
My father had never kissed me since 1 was in long 
clothes, and my mother certainly not after my second 
•teeth; and yeti never doubted their affection, nor 
could 1 have dono so, had 1 striven ever so hard. 1 
said I remembered when Daniel asked me to marry 
him; hul l meant only when lie inquired what day 
and month the ceremony should take place. I sup¬ 
pose I blushed, but I did not do so as modern and, 
perhaps, wiser girls would under the circumstances, 
hide the rose color in his huff vest. Of course I fixed 
the date a couple of years in the future of the ques¬ 
tion, and compromised with six weeks, because 
Daniel bad purchased a house, and it was empty, and 
ought to have an occupant to take care of it. No 
other reason was urged, and none was needed. We 
were practical, and had puritanic blood, and were 
simply severe in our styles of expression. By severe, 
I mean just what artists do by that word. 
I did sometimes dream what he mighf have said if 
we had been poems instead of people, but I never 
once fancied it possible to say such things with every¬ 
day tongues like ours. To be sure, on very dork 
nights, when 1 lay awake planning the trousseau, 
which New England girls always get up themselves, 
and which are prepared from year to year from the 
time of expertness with the needle, as long as there 
is any reasonable prospect of an offer of marriage, 
but as I said, on very dark nights, when the new 
pattern was decided upon, I held imaginary conver¬ 
sations with Daniel, during which the sweetest sweet¬ 
ness 1 had ever drained from deep draughts from my 
two hooks of poetry were made to pour from his lips 
into my ears. I always felt a little awed at myself 
for this, and accused myself of sacrilege in a higher 
degree, but nevertheless it was a common and intense 
enjoyment. 
Well, we were married, and our friends kissed us 
because it was the custom, aud wished pleasant 
things for ns in terms which varied not in words, but 
intones; there was a thrill and a pathos easily dis¬ 
tinguished by ears eager for love and its expressions, 
albeit they must not come in words. 
All Daniel said to me as his first salutation was— 
“ Molly, I hope you won't repent it;” and I replied 
saucily, though my heart was full of tenderness, and 
I feared it would slip off at the tip of my tongue— 
“ Tf I do, 1 shall take good cure that you do also,” 
and wo went to dinner in the recently purchased 
house. When 1 arrived there 1 found the new striped 
carpet had been put down wrong side up, and while 
my own domestic was putting aside the dinner, I 
The advantages of till* machine a* a Reaper are very obvious 
]. The prain is delivered at the side of Hie platform, entirely 
out of the way of the next rnurd. 
2. It cuts a swath nix feet wide, and will cut One. aero per hour 
with one span of burses without_inlurine them. 
3. It can tie chai gvl from a Mower to a Reaper in fifteen min¬ 
utes, and viee \ . i: i ' 
There are other general points ol exeellerce, the ample 
mention of which will be at once Understood by tire practical 
fiiruifci'. 
1 . The mechanical execution of the work, as well os the e.har- 
acter o|' the materials used in their construction, is superior to 
that of most machines of the kind. 
2 . Thu driviug wheels aie three feet high, thus improving the 
draft. , , .... 
3. It him an adjustable tongue by which the side-draft can pos¬ 
itively he controlled under ail circumstances. Some machines 
have little or no side-draft w hile mowing. but have a great deal 
while reaping. Nothing but an adjustable tongue can avoid this 
difficulty. , , 
4 . The height of the stubble can be changed from ore to live 
loches ip nn instant, without stopping the machine. This is an 
Important mprovumunl from the fact that it. enables the ma- 
cliine to cut lodged BTora as dose to the grimed ns that which 
is standing or to cut a high ‘dubbin where the ground l* 
WAR WIT, 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
1am composed of 37 letters. 
My 9,14, 25,18 is to destroy. 
My 29, 17, 13, 30, II is a number. 
My 27, 19, 27, 9, 7, 8 is a relative. 
My 3, 35, 27, 19, 12 is a favorite study of mine. 
My 23, 30 is u Latin conjunction. 
My 18, 4, 24 is one of the seven colors. 
My 24, 7, 9, 1, 34, 19, 21 is a city in Michigan. 
My 81,16, 36 is worn by men. 
My 35, 16, 2ft. 10 is a Territory. 
My 28, 22, 19,17 is one of the Western States. 
My 21, 13, 7, 2 you wilt find in the forest. 
My 27, 1ft, 3, 25, 20, 10, 22, 25 is a girl’s name. 
My 37, 14, 8, 34, 24 is the name of an ancient king. 
My 5, 15, 82is the name of a cape in the Altantic. 
My 6, 2, 18, 13, 03 is a kind of fruit, 
My 1, 23, 7 is a kind of grain. 
My whole all youth should remember. 
Clyde, N. Y., 1861. Sabra A. Reynolds. 
Answer in two weeks. 
The largest Retail Carpet Ware-Rooms in the United 
States, where can he found at all times the most 
Complete Assortment, 
Comprising the best aud most approved makes, this and 
Foreign Markets afford. Persons about to furnish mew. or 
even one carpet, will find it to their advantage to look at our 
Mammotli Htoelt 
We import and purchase direct from the 
Which enables us to 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
As any house in this Country ! ft® 6- 
Jf Churches Furnished at Manfuctu revs’ Prices 
I am composed of 27 letters. 
My 10, 11, 22, 9 is one of the Bahama islands. 
My 8, 2, 21, 17 is ft lake in Russia, 
My 11, 2, 7, 23 is one ol’ the United States. 
My 9, 25, 10,16 is a river In the United States. 
My 21, 27, 9, 11 is ft city in Soudan. 
My 1ft, 2, 7, 22, 9, 17,11, 23 is a town in China. 
My 10, 7, 0,1, 10, 27 is a river in Arkansas. 
My 4. 10, 24, 20, 10 is a river in England. 
My 9, 13, 22, 11, 16 is n city in Italy. 
My 24, 5, 10. 17, 16, is an island in the Mediterranean sea. 
My 10, 23, 26, 19, 13 is ft town in Mexico. 
My 12, 7, 13, 8, 22,16 is a town in Illinois. 
My 14, 18, 7,11, 6, 23 is a county in Ohio. 
My whole is one of Dr. Franklin’s sayings. 
Eagle, N. Y., 1861. E. E. March ant. 
Answer in two weeks. 
tXOWE’S IMPROVED HAY SCALES,' 
J “ L THE BEST IINT USE ! 
trouble 
VLES No Pit—setabove ground —no ----- 
w ith water or ice —no friction on kar.» 
SCALES. edges—weigh truly if not level 
pleat in use. Delivered at any RaibMn 
1LES. Station. Send tor Circulars. 
Portable Huy J'ressy 
;KSSES. I For Halim/ Hay, Flax, Broom Cora. 
, ro8 ,,. Rues, Wool and Cotton Simple-G*^ 
.ES&hb. power - worked bv two men. Hundreds 
iESSES. in use. Send for'Circulars. 
(.'ant Steel Hells. 
Welch less—cost less — heard further 
than other first class Bells. Never 
break by frosts. Warranted 12 months. 
Send for circulars amL te«tim 0 juius,-- 
Fixtures made by myself, at lowest 
Send for Circulars 
CHURCH BELLS 
CHURCH BELLS. 
CHURCH BELLS. 
| prices. 
Town Clocks, 
Of the most approved character, of mj 
own mauutaeture, warranted equal io 
any in use, at greatly reduced puce*. 
address __.... 
JAMES G. BUDLEY, 
93 Main St, Buflaio, N. Y 
TOWN CLOCKS. 
TOWN CLOCKS. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE. 
The sum of four figures in value will be 
Above seven thousand nine hundred and three ; 
But when they are halved, you’U find very fair, 
The sum will be nothing, in truth I declare. 
Windham, Ohio, 1861. A. R. Russell. 
Answer in two weeks. 
MOORE’S RURAL MW-YORKER, 
THE LARGEST CIRCULATED 
AGUICULTmiAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY WEEKLY, 
is published every Saturday 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Terms in Advance: 
Subscription — Two Dollars a YeaP To Chlbs aDl . 
Agents as follows Three Copies one year, for *5; Six. am. 
one free to club agent, for $10, Ten, and one free. f° r 
Fifteen, and one free, for 521; Twenty, and Ode free, 
and any greater number at game rate —only $1-25 per cop}. 
with an extra free copy for every Ten Subscriber? over l" * u • 
Club papers directed to individuals and sent to as 
different Post-Oflices as desired. As we pre-pay American 
postage on papers sent to the British Provinces, our 
dian agents and friends must add 12>» cents per copy o 
club rates of the Rural. The lowest price of copies sent 
Europe, &c., is $2.50 — including postage. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOMETRICAL PROBLEM. 
Answer to Arithmetical Problem: —1,000 i 
Answer to Geographical Enigma: Pride j 
struction ; aud a haughty spirit before a fall. 
