>/'•. 'c-yfT- 
2B6 
ad. 
K A I N . 
Whew, breathing balm o’er flock and fold, 
Low winds bring sweetness from the South, 
When still the winter touched and old 
October bitetb in the month— 
I stand beside my cottage door, 
And see above me and before, 
Across the skies and o’er the plain, 
The shadows of the rain. 
I watch them blown from hill to hill, 
O’er lonely stream and windy downs, 
From thrope to tbrope, from vill to vill, 
And over solitary towns; 
Like stragglers from the skirts of night, 
Slow squadroned by a wiud of light, 
Torn down to music as they roll, 
Sobbing as with a soul. 
Across the skies and o'er the plain, 
Below the silence of the spheres, 
The hidden Angel of the Rain 
Is sighing with a sense of Liars; 
And listening to her voice it seems 
Borne fancy muffled up in dreams, 
Some shapeless thought our visions keep, 
Moaning through shades of sleep. 
I hear the voice, and cannot doubt 
The wisdom of the thought I win— 
That all the changeful world without 
Must type the changeful world within; 
Nor may the poet fail to gain 
One hint of kindred with the rain, 
Type of a life whose hopes and fears 
Are rsinbowed out from tears. 
For, standing now between the shower 
And son, I glory L» behold 
Thu rainbow leave her cloudy bower, 
Transfigured in a mist of gold; 
Her trembling train of clouds retreat, 
The Earth yearns up to kiss her feet— 
She wears the many hued and gay 
Rohe of the unborn May. 
JTtavg-QfUtf. 
IFrom Harper's Monthly Magazine for July.] 
THROWN TOGETHER. 
(Continued from page 228, last No.] 
Ten minutes of suicidal wretchedness elapsed, and 
Buckle heard the Purser’s voice saying, close behind 
him, 
“There! that’s the fellow!” 
“Hello yon, Sir!” said the Captain—his fresh, 
jolly face knit into the highest expression of ferocity 
which such a fresh, jolly face could wear—“are you 
the roan that’s trying to steal a passage to Savannah ?” 
“No, Sir! I haven’t been trying to do any such 
thing!” exclaimed Buckle, in spite of his native 
mildness now quite brought to bay, “ The passage 
has been forced upon me, Sir! So far am I from 
wishing to steal it, that if I were ashore I’d pay twice 
its value to have it taken off my hands. I'm a gentle¬ 
man, Sir! And it strikes me that if the 1’urBer had 
habitually associated with that class, he’d have recog¬ 
nized it in me when I told him Pd got left — hadn't 
got left, I would say!” 
Tho Purser patted the deck with his foot and look¬ 
ed at the Captaiu —the Captain likewise at the 
Purser. Then they retired together to the extreme 
bow and consulted in whisper; while, like an ancient 
Christian martyr, Mr. Bucklo looked to Heaven and 
awaited their sentence, leaning against the foremast. 
“ T don’t kDow exactly what to mako of the man,” 
Baid tho Captain. 
“It’s my opinion,” said the Purser, influenced, nn- 
conscious to his own sense of justice, by the recent 
insinuations of Mr. Buckle, “ that he's a swindler.” 
“But there's something about him which doesn’t 
look just like a swindler.” 
“Swindlers generally wear those savage-looking 
whiskers.” 
“Ycfl, but then they don’t put on spectacles.— 
Whiskers and spectacles belong to different lines of 
the business. The whiskers are always rich English 
noblemen going South on a shooting tour, and hav¬ 
ing their funds sent by mistake to Savannah. The 
spectacles are young clergymen on their way to 
Augustine, with something bad the mutter with their 
throats, under a misunderstanding that such Cases 
are always passed free. They always finish up the 
ofleotwith a white choker. You see he mixes the 
whiskers and the spectacles. A swindler would pay 
more regard to probabilities, seems to me.” 
“ Very well. We can let him stay in the steerage, 
if you say so. But suppose we try him with a few 
questions first?” 
“All right. Go ahead!” 
They returned, and Mr. Purser commenced the 
examination: 
“ I suppose yon haven’t any objection to mention 
your name?” 
“ No, Sir, I have not—especially where it’s known. 
Mr. Pestus Buckle.” 
“ Buckle’s not a bad name,” said the Captain, en¬ 
couragingly. “ Drive on, Mr. Purser.” 
“ And your residence?” 
“No. — Twenty-third Street, New York.” 
“Very nice street, too,” again interposed the 
Captain, parenthetically. 
“ You say you came down for a friend,— Dr. Piper 
— and got caught. What did Dr. Piper send you to 
do?” 
“To bring a letter of importance, which came at 
the last moment, to a person on board.” 
“And is that person on board still?” 
"She is a passenger in No. 14.” 
“No. 11, No. H!” said the Captain, hastily. 
“ Who is that ? Look over your list, Mr. Purser.” 
Mr. Purser obeyed, and on inspection replied, 
“Mrs. Belle Godfrey.” 
“ Mrs. Hells Godfrey! Bless my soul!” exclaimed 
the Captain. “ Why, I know her as well as I do my¬ 
self! She’s gone South with me every winter since 
I’ve been in the line! Why, Mr. Buckle, 1 beg your 
pardon! Why didn’t you tell us of this before? I’ll 
go and see her directly!” 
“Oh, don't! really don't ! Don’t say anything to 
her about it! 1 shall die of mortification; you see, 
I’m not at all acquainted with her, and only had any 
thing to do with her to oblige Piper.” 
“ There!” said the Purser. “ You hear that 7 lie 
don’t know her— only to oblige Piper — and all that 
sort of thing. I believe ho is a swindler, after all! 
Well, Mr. Buckle, we shall soon find out; and if you 
are, we'll have to borrow your watch to pay for the 
passage you've borrowed.” 
The two officers then left Mr. Buckle to keep a look¬ 
out for Sandy Hook Light, while they repaired to 
the cabin. 
In five minutes they returned, and Mrs. Belle God¬ 
frey had presisted in clambering up to the forecastle 
dock with them, laughing at the idea that any place 
where her lively little feet could carry her was not 
good enough for ladies. 
“Oh, you poor, dear man!” she cried, taking the 
stupefied Buckle naively by the hand. “Pm so glad 
to find you! 1 was afraid you’d jumped overboard— 
I really was! Why in the world didn't you come and 
tell me what a pickle you were In? Of course nobody 
could expect you to go on an errand to the pier all 
prepared to make a voyage to Savannah! Just think 
if I’d got on to o»c of the Collina steamers by mis¬ 
take instead of this. Why, / shouldn’t he ready to 
make the trip to England, should I? It’s all ray fault 
from beginning to end, and I only beg you to forget 
all about it, Ut’s take a walk on deck till tea, and 
then we’ll go down into the cabin again. Nobody 
else besides ns knows any thing about this.” 
This frank statement of the hearings of Buch a ter¬ 
ribly practical matter was something utterly unlook¬ 
ed-for by Mr. Buckle, in a woman. He had no idea 
that they ever thought of such matter-of-fact things 
as money; he supposed, if he ever reflected about 
them at all, that somebody always paid their passage 
for them. That they ate like himself, he had occa¬ 
sionally noticed • that they nlso slept, was a truth 
which he held upon tradition, though in a rose-color¬ 
ed, angelio sort of a way, which never mussed their 
hair; but these points of resemblance to male beings 
he had considered anomalies, and as to their think¬ 
ing or talking like men in any respect, why, impossi¬ 
ble! Bo that whenever circumstances over which be 
had no control, had fatally forced him to address 
them, it was only upon the most trivial subjects, and 
in a style as nearly like Maud as prose could be. 
This I suggest as one of the pobahle reasons why he 
avoided them, because he did not succeed in that 
absolutely necessary kind of talk. 
Bo now, when this cool wave of the widow’s coni 
mon sense dashed over his fevered brow, by mere 
astonishment it woke him from his previous had 
dream, and he answered: 
“I’m really very ranch obliged to you, Ma’am. 
Will you also have the kindness, if you can do it 
conscientiously, to certify to these gentlemen that, I 
am Mr. Pestus Bucklo of No. — Twenty third Street, 
of competent and respectable family, Attorney and 
Counselor, No. — Wall Btreet, and that all these 
facts, in form and substance; as averred, are true of 
your own knowledge and belief, so help you—” 
“Oho!” burst in the Captain. “No need of an 
affidavit, I can assure you, Mr. Buckle.” 
“And furthermore, that. I am to lie relied on as pay¬ 
ing for my passage upon my earliest communication 
with my friends.” 
“Never mind that, Mr. Buckle,” interposed the 
Purser. “It’s settled. Mrs. Godfrey wouldn’t per¬ 
mit us to return till we had assigned the debt to her. 
She's your creditor now.” 
“You—don’t—mean—to say!” 
“That I have paid your passage?” laughed the 
little widow. “Is it such a very frightful liberty to 
take? Forgive me then, and, perhaps, I’ll never do 
it again, nnless Beppo gets loose, ha-ha-ha-ha!” 
“Then allow me to remark,” said Mr. Buckle, in the 
fullness of his magnanimity lavishing upon her tho 
attitude, expression, and peroration which he had 
been years keeping for that jury be expected to have 
some day “allow me to remark that I consider it as 
doing honor to the noblest sentiments of the human 
heart! Also, that I will return you the exact sum 
for value received at the earliest possible opportu¬ 
nity.” 
“I’ll stand surety for him!” said the Captain. 
“ He shan’t go off the ship till we get to Savannah. 
If he tumbles over we’ll catch him. Fare fifteen dollars 
and found, you know! Bee large hills.” 
“And to make assurance doubly sure, as well as to 
get forgiveness for my rough usage, (Pursers must be 
Pursers, you know, Mr. Buckle!) I'll confine him In 
the upper berth in n.y room every night till we get to 
Savannah. It’s the only vacant one in the ship; so 
Pm a pretty good jailor!” 
“And I’ll keep my eye on him!” said the widow, 
bewi tellingly. 
“ Now, that’s the crudest punishment of all!” said 
the Captain. What with so much bantering, and the 
fact that the widow hud just taken his arm to lead 
him away for the proposed promenade, Mr. Buckle 
felt himself blushing to a degree unprecedented since 
a bad dream he had years ago, when he thought he 
was at a tea party where the company was all ladieB 
but himself. 
CHAPTER II. 
Mr. Buckle found the little widow leaning against 
her berth, the roses fled from her cheeks and replaced 
by the pallor of deep, unnamable distress. She had 
not felt strength enough even to shut the state room 
door, which wag the only reason why Mr. Buckle 
saw her. 
“Don’t you think yon’d like an omelet, or a plate 
of hot buttered toast?” asked Mr. Buckle, conside¬ 
rately. 
“Oh, ugh! Go away!" exclaimed the widow, in 
a ghostly tone; and for reasons best known to her¬ 
self, found strength to close the door. Mr. Buckle 
stood aghast. Was that the woman who had abashed 
him with her smiles, so short a time before? He was 
getting on fast in his Natural History of the animal’s 
habits! 
“Look-a-here!” said the Captain, rising and bend¬ 
ing to his ear, “You just leave her alone for a few 
minutes, and then come back and carry her on deck. 
That's the best thing for her.” 
“Do you always have to carry them?” asked Mr. 
Buckle, in a confidential but excited tone. 
The Captain was compelled to smile audibly. 
“When they can’t walk,” said he. “I hope that 
isn’t this lady’s case; but if it, is, nerve yourself up to 
It; you might have a worse load! At any rate, take 
her on deck in five minutes, arid keep her there as 
long as you can.” 
Mr. Buckle obeyed, and occupied the five minutes 
with the consideration what he should do with her 
when he got her there, also iri the hasty achievement 
of his supper. At the expiration of the time, he 
knocked at the door of 14, and was answered by a 
gentle voice, “Come in.” 
“The Captain says I must take you on deck, Mrs. 
Godfrey.” 
“The Captain says! Well, I don’t see that you are 
compelled to mind him, if you don’t wish to,” spoke 
the voice again, in a slight tone of pique, like a petu¬ 
lant sick child. 
Mr. Buckle had not thought of his words as being 
liable to this construction, and was much taken 
aback. 
" Oli, no!” said he, putting his shoulders as well as 
his head inside No. 14, “I didn’t mean that! I beg 
yon won’t think so. I only intended to say—well, 
that I’d like to do it myself. That is, of course, if 
you haven’t the least objection.” 
“ Well, sir, if you really would like to, I’ll oblige 
There came a great wave 
Without asking her laoe 
And Beared Mrs. Godfrey away. 
(“ Now T can hold up! No, I can’t; there isn’t any 
sense in it: the moon’s got to do something.) 
When the tea-gong did sound, the twin lights of 
Neversink Highlands were close -behind the stern. 
“ There’s tea,” chirped Mrs. Godfrey. “Now, Mr. 
Buckle, like a good child, say ‘My Native Land, 
good night ! ’ and let’s go dowu and find out 
whether wc’rc hungry. The next time yon see your 
native land you’ll have to say ‘Howdy’—that’s the 
Savannese for ‘how d’ye do?’ If I'm sick, will you 
take care of me?” 
“I’ll try to,” replied Buckle. Give him credit 
for the heroism of the answer! If there wore no one 
else to do it on board, he would have taken care of 
the steam engine, with similar feelings of graceful 
adaptedness, and about the same amount of knowl¬ 
edge of the subject. “ Do you feel sick now?" he 
continued, apprehensively. 
“No, not yet; but I shall be. I always am just 
about the time those lights get out of sight. I’ve 
made three voyages to Savannah and hack. We’re 
beginning to roll a little now. Are you ever sick, 
Mr. Buckle?” 
“ Fruit sometimes disagrees with me, Ma'am. But 
I don’t think I was ever quite so far out at sea before; 
and I’m not sure about anything else.” 
“ Well, don’t let’s think about it. I hope you won’t 
be. Let’s go down to supper now, and banish disa¬ 
greeable streets.” 
People never think of banishing disagreeable sub¬ 
jects, you may have noticed, till those subjects are 
very pressing in their calls on attention. Bo it 
will not surprise you find me as much as it did Mr. 
Buckle, to know that Mrs. Godfrey had scarcely sent 
out for a piece of hot steak, stirred tho sugar in her 
coffee, and with a forced smile accepted the butter 
from Mr. Buckle, who sat next her, .when, as in the 
case of Miss Mufl'eit, who sat on a tuifet eating her 
curds and whey, 
“Ah!” said an unfeeling passenger, who set up (T 
need not say without any substantial foundation,) to 
be tho wit or the vessel, “ There is a lady who has no 
fondness for rolls with her coffee.” 
Mr. Buckle glared ou the insensate wretch through 
his spectacles. 
“ I beg your pardon,” said the passenger, instantly, 
“ I did not know the lady was your wife, sir.” 
“Oh!” groaned Mr. Buckle, once more blushing to 
his hoots, and rose precipitately, under pretense of 
following Mrs. Godfrey—a duty to which his atten¬ 
tion was thus providentially assisted. Simultane¬ 
ously with him rose another roll, also three more 
lady passengers, though not from unselfish sympathy 
| fur Mrs. Godfrey. 
“But don’t put yourself out, you know’.” 
“Oh, not in the least! I’ll be ready in a moment, 
Mr. Buckle.” 
After a little bustling about in the state-room, Mrs. 
Belle Godfrey appeared, looking a little paler, to be 
sure, than when they started, and exhibiting some 
slight tremulousness in her gait—but still, a very 
pretty statue of plumpness in marble. 
This time, to bis great surprise, not to speak of 
hers, Mr. Buckle offered the lady an arm of his owm 
accord. Tho floor w r an by this time churning up and 
down with that charming regularity and ease which 
will some day, I hope, suggest to one of our brilliant 
inventors the Idea of filling a steamers’* hold with 
milk, and trusting to Providence to have it arrive at 
the Savannah market good fresh butter. This pleas¬ 
ant little motion made it necessary for Mrs. Godfrey 
to lean closer to Mr. Buckle’s manly side than is reg¬ 
ular in the lesB staggering walks of good society, and 
gave him an opportunity to discover other facts in 
the Natural History of the animal. 
“ How’ much softer and rounder their arms are 
than ours!” tbonght Mr. Buckle. "I really am not 
sure but the sensation in pleasant.” 
When they reached the top of the companion way, 
Mr. Buckle helped Mrs. Godfrey to a seat on the 
leeward quarter of the stern-deck, where the pilot¬ 
house sheltered her from a rather 'stiff nor’wester 
which was blowing. 
“Please to arrange this rigolette, it’s rather too 
much over roy eyes; and my arms are pinned fast 
under my shawl,” said Mrs. Godfrey, as she settled 
herself upon the bench. 
Without any remarks upon the singularity of this 
inextricable entanglement, which had happened dur¬ 
ing the short time since she abandoned bis arm, Mr, 
Buckle, did With bis arms the work of hers, and 
arranged tho troublesome piece of raiment in such a 
skillful and experienced manner as to suggest that be 
must have acquired it about the same time that be 
was learning to fly. He then procured a stool for 
himself and occupied it, about four feet from the 
widow. 
“Now, thanks to your kindness, I am very com¬ 
fortable,” said the widow’, in a sweet, rich voice, 
which would have meant a hundred compliments to 
you or me more than it did to Buckle. 
“Ob, don’t mention it! It is only my disposition. 
1 like to oblige,” said Mr. Buckle, trusting his con¬ 
versational pinions the first time for a flight in that 
dangerous region, his own personality, 
“ I think your tendency is merciful. I have reason 
to know it particularly.” 
“Indeed? Piper, I suppose. He is always saying 
something good about me.” From the mild, half- 
reproachful tone of Mr. Buckle, one would have 
thought he meant something had. And he did, for 
Piper never would stop praising him to ladies, who 
straightway wanted to know him—which was disa¬ 
greeable in Piper, very. 
“No. From actual observation. For instance, 
that offer of hot battered toast when I seemed to la- 
riding head downward in a balloon. It was well 
meant, though I was provoked at the time — excuse 
me. And it— it— well, it resulted beneficially." 
“Did it indeed? Pm charmed. Shall I go after 
some now ?” 
“Ha-ha-ha! I am all the time right ou the point 
of saying, ‘You dear creature!’ If 1 do, sometime, 
Call it sea-siekness. T don’t mean the toast, you see. 
I mean tho mention of it. 1 feel much better lor it. 
These stars are beautiful. I wish we had a moon.” 
“So do 1!” responded Buckle, enthusiastically, 
dimly seeing an opening for the necessary kind of 
w’oraan telle. 
There was a pause for some three minutes, during 
which Mrs. Godfrey patted the round of the stool 
with her little gaiter. But ah! she did not kuow 
what gigaotic struggles were going on in the bosom 
at her elbow! Or did she know and enjoy them? 
Perhaps. Women, like babies, know a great deal 
more than wc men are apt to give them credit for. 
The fact i* that Buckle was thinking over his little 
repertoire of lunar and astral poems — the magazine 
whence he extracted liis final weapons of defensive 
warfare when brought, to bay by a woman, and Maud 
had failed. He was wondering which he would 
quote first—also whether be might not he obliged 
to go on through a whole poem if he began a stanza 
— also whether it were best to quote at all. 
Out. of this delirious state of uncertainty he plunged 
with all a modest man’s desperate recklessness, by 
i forcing himself to bear the sound of his own voice. 
This would commit him to something — reassure him 
also. 
“Speaking of the tnoon, don’t you like Long¬ 
fellow, Mrs. Godfrey?” 
“Yes, indeed— I love him.” 
“ That’s a sweet thing of his which begins 
“ ‘The night has come, but not too soon,’ 
(“ Wouldn’t this he as good a place as any to stop 
at? Oh no! I haven’t got the moon in yet.) 
“ ‘And sinking silently, 
All silently, the little moon—’ 
“ ‘Drops down behind the sky.’ 
(“There! she’s done it,”) 
“ Yes, 1 remember it very w all. Do yon know the 
rest of the lines?” 
Buckle groaned in spirit: then, with bare two sec¬ 
ond interval* for breath, repeated them continuously 
from beginning to end. 
“ T am verv, very much obliged to yon. Don’t yon 
know something else?” 
Another internal groan, followed by a recitation of 
“The day (adone, and the darkness,”etc. 
“ I am very, very much obliged to yon. Don’t yon 
know something else?” 
Groan internal No. 3, Accompanied by a growing 
sense of resistless motion down a steep acclivity 
without certainty of stopping short of the bottom. 
This preceded the recitation of 
“ Oh that it were possible !’’ 
“ I am verv t-<rv much obliged to yon. Don’t you 
know something else?” 
If Mr. Buckle had been compelled to recite his 
little verse* with a similar pleasant alternative to that 
on which Behehnrn/.ade complied with the request, 
“Mv dear sister, if yon are not asleep, relate to me 
one'of those little narratives which yon relate so 
well,” he could not have been more thunder struck 
than he was hv this fourth invitation from Mrs. God¬ 
frey. He had beard of “quizzing” — but heretofore 
no’ladv of all his slight acquaintance had ever had 
the hardihood to try it. on him. In general ladies 
liked him. but with a certain feeling of nnattainn- 
hility — as you or 1 would like a coach-and-fonr. 
They did not know the solmtti reality of Buckie well 
enough to play with it. “But,” thought Buckle, 
remembering that he bad heard of quizzing, “I 
wonder whether this Isn’t the thing?” 
The expression of his face Just then — seen in the 
pale starlight which he had been so desperately 
ne-rbyming—was of a kind which this Blender pen 
forbids me to portray, save by saying that it was 
indescribable, and that after holding in before it as 
long as there was any probable chftnco of salvation 
for her basque button’s. Mrs. Godfrey gave way to an 
uncontrollable burst of “ enrhlnnatnry silver.” Silver 
is proper novelesqne for ladies' laugh, I believe. 
“Don’t—yon—ha-ha-ha- ha know any thing 
else?” said Mrs. Godfrey. 
Mr. Buckle was silent. Also hurt. Also offended. 
It, was rude. It wa* the rudest thing lie ever saw. It 
was inexplicable, (It might not have been had he 
been aware bow that Tiper had told Mrs. Godfrey that 
his friend knew all the poetry in the English Ian- 
gunge, and kept it to talk to ladies.) 
Mrs. Godfrey reined herself np kept Buckle com¬ 
pany in blushing (though rather too late, as he very 
properly thought)— put her hand upon his arm with 
a timid, gliding motion, as she would propitiate her 
squirrel and said, 
“I do beg ynnr pardon T do, sincerely. I have 
given you a beautiful opinion of my good-breeding.” 
“till, not at all -not at all!” answered Buekle, in 
his flurry, more anxious to gratify his pacahlc ten¬ 
dency than to express himself coroplimcTiLirily. 
“T am perfectly ashamed of rnvself,” the little 
widow continued, in a soft and penitent voice; “hut 
the fact is that wo poor women hoar so much poetry 
from gentlemen that we begin to believe that is the 
original channel of conversation between the two. 
Now look at. met On the honor of a lady, who, to he 
frank, has lived twenty-six years, I never talked 
poetry since I was born. I talk prose. ) always have 
talked prose. I always expect to. I understand it ” 
“ Bit ** my soul!” thought. Rnckle; “this creature 
has told me her age! I had heard they never do! 
And she is twenty-six! I upver knew any of them 
were over twi-ntv five at the limit, but my mother.” 
Mrs. Godfrey went on: “ When T asked you if you 
didn’t know any thing rise, T meant, to be frank with 
you again, a Jnufde-eatendre." 
What a peculiarly dellcfous effect “frank with yon” 
has, coming from a woman’s lips! Buckle, bpneath 
it, became like molasses candy before a Bcbool-girl. 
Still further continued Mrs. Godfrey: 
“T meant, don't you know any thing about travels, 
or history, or geology, or even metaphysics? Politics 
too, which I dote on —and art, and all sorts of gen- 
nriil incidents? 1 know yon do! that’s tho reason I 
ask you. You read immensely — you know almost 
every thing that's worth knowing — you are a very, 
rery learned man! And — will you believe it? — I'm 
really not afraid of that, kind of people at all! We 
poof little women have to spend so much time in 
toilet* and Insip’d calls —for that's the kind of life 
yon had, monopolizing men force us to adopt — that 
we have no leisure, no constitution left lor any books 
that will rot read themselves without an effort on our 
part. Suppose you had danced in every set from ten 
o'clock in the evening till two the next morning; 
then slept till eleven: then cut up your day till five 
into little ten-minute fribbles of talk with people who 
are so stupid that you’d no sooner think of calling 
on them than on the lav-figures at Dibblec s, if yon 
weren't compelled to do ii or lose your entree; then 
gone home to dress for dinner and eat dinner; and, 
finally, finished np Tuesday night, exactly like Mon 
dav, would you find strength or time to readI 
Buckle shook his head solemnly. It was the only 
answer he could give in his amazement at hearing 
the creature talk after such a fashion. 
“ No, of course yon wouldn’t! Bo that poetry is 
the extremest thing that we poor little women can 
attempt. As a matter of course, we know that pretty 
well- ns any body would who gave all the remnants 
of her min<l to it. Now I know you're an excellent 
Italian scholar, so you understand • I>otma r mobile;' 
and You're a man, so vnu hold it (<>r Gospel truth 
heaidrs. We are Changeable; at least, to the extent 
of not loving to do the same thing in the same way 
with the same people and the same aggravations, all 
the day long and all the year round, like a horse in 
a mill. Bo would you be!” 
Mr. Buekle rubbed his forehead. It wa* unpre¬ 
cedented. It was an earthquake of astonishment. 
Wasn’t, she a man who wrote articles for some art 
newspuiM-r in woman's clothes? 
At length he burst, forth with childlike fervor, 
“ Mr*. Godfrey, you are the most sensible woman 1 
ever saw 1” 
“Not, a bit of it!” laughed the widow, tossing on 
the compliment with a witching little shake of her 
rigolette. “ I know fifty women as sensible. Yes, a 
hundred. And 1 believe that if all of them who 
know you were as little afraid of yon as / am (more’s 
the pity for mv politeness, perhaps you’ll say), ninety- 
nine out of a hundred would tell you the same sensi¬ 
ble truth that I do.” 
“But suppose I talked what I read—metaphysics 
or polities, you know, or something like that, which 
they call dry — wouldn't a lady laugh at me?” 
“ That’s Just the point! What nee it is there of 
talking just what a man reads? Why ean’t he talk 
about wiiathe reads with his own thoughts, if he has 
any. added? When you’re interested in a new dis¬ 
covery in geography, and go across the way to con¬ 
verse about. it with Cousin Piper, you don’t run on in 
this way for Instance: ‘ It will be remembered bv all 
our readers that on the twenty-seventh day of Decem¬ 
ber, in the year eighteen hundred and fitly-seven, the 
author, accompanied by sixtv-tilne, natives, each car¬ 
rying a wooden spear and six' boxes of matches, set 
out for the mountain of Bullygtioroogooroo. which 
he ascertained to be exactly live hundred thousand 
feet above the level of the sen, well wooded with 
tapioca, damson plums, and pond lilies, ami precisely 
eight hundred and six miles twenty-five rods in cir¬ 
cumference.’ Thai jsn’t the style, is it? You don t 
Commit a book to memory, do you? You read it. 
then cast it over in your mind, and tdk that new 
cast. Unless you are talking to us women—in which 
case you give ns the real thing verbatim, with the 
rbvmes all right, and not a foot dislocated or sprained 
in the whole of it! Thank you kindly, but we have 
the same thing <>n our center tables in better binding 
—blue and gold. I was. going to say, ’instead ot at 
least half calf,’ but 1 won’t, lor the joke’s not new nor 
delicate either.” 
Mr. Buckle laughed heartily at the widow’s report 
of that verbatim talk on travels. This was a point 
gained. He could not have laughed unless the tern- 
1 ,In creature had recently become a shade less terrible. 
Sw much more did lie led at ease that, tor answer to 
her little oration, he indulged in one of Ids own. 
He hud written and committed it to memory years 
before, when he was not quite sure but he should 
devote himself to the prolcssion of a highly success¬ 
ful popular lecturer making ten thousand per Annum. 
It began like this: “ Yes, indeed! The mind of a 
man is not a sponge but a crucible* He who merely 
draw* knowledge iu ami pours it out unaltered does 
his neighbor a wrong — cheats him of the additional 
value which he should have impressed upon it by 
reflection. The true and honest intellect receives 
facts, melts them in the proportions of its favorite 
alloy, then crystallizes them into new systems and 
theories, runs them into ingots in the mold of its 
own peculiar thinking, or stamps them for rare, 
eurrentable coins In the royal minting-mill of Genius’. 
Thns, when they come forth again to pass for value 
in the uses of the world, thev are gems that attract 
men to Truth hy a new brilliancy, golden bars puri- 
fled for the purpose of some other mind's re-manufac¬ 
ture, or coins whose novel form and authoritative 
stamp carry them tbrongb wider areas of mental 
traffic, and give them a worth and credit which man¬ 
kind never before perceived, passing them by unno¬ 
ticed in their cruder forms.” 
This was substantially what Mr. Buckle was invejg. 
led into getting off. I sav inveigled, for when he had 
given merely this exordium of the forty foolscap 
pages, he caught himself suddenly with the thought— 
“Can / be Hackle — the man who ia talking thus to 
a woman ?” 
Mrs. Godfrey was as much surprised as he was. 
Though a Ivceum lecture is not the best kind of talk 
for anv body, still it was such an advance toward the 
right kind of thine, so far beyond bashful reserve, 
awkward small-talk, or quotations, that she could 
hardly believe it was Buckle more than that gentle¬ 
man liimself. She sat, listening with fixed admira¬ 
tion. and when he abruptly concluded, replied, 
“ What beautiful Ideas! lliose are not quoted, are 
they?” 
“ I believe they are my own. Ma'am.” 
“ I thought so. Will yon talk to me a great deal 
in that wav hetween here and Savannah?” 
Mr. Buckle faintly replied “Yes.” and wondered 
wheiher lie could remember the whole lecture. 
“ Do yon draw?” she asked, after a pause. 
“A little. Ma’am, for my own amusement.” 
“ And understand mineralogy?” 
“ I have stndied it" 
“1 thought sol What you’ve just been saying 
about crystals gave me the impression. Now herp's 
an Idea. I’m one of those dreadfully ignorant little 
women I spoke of a moment ago, who never have 
time to learn or do any thing. But I've always 
wished so much to study mineralogy! We Ifaven’t 
any minerals on board, have we?” 
“Goal.” said Buckle, after grave reflection. “Jhat 
would dirty ynnr hands though.” 
“I don’t care! 1 can wash them.” 
“ And salt,” added Ruckle, as the result of wider 
consideration. “ That wouldn’t he open to the same 
objection.” 
“To be sure! And, as yon draw, you can make 
me pictures of the other minerals. Capital! Won't 
1 be a wise woman when we get to Savannah!” 
And the little witch chipped her hands for pipe and 
scientific enthusiasm. Buckle felt sensations of grat¬ 
ification at being good for something, useful to some¬ 
body, such as he had not experienced since he nsed 
to hold his mother's skeins. 
“ I feel much better for this open air—especially, 
too, for this conversation — it has kept me stirring, 
which js the best thing to prevent sea sickness. But 
T think, if yon please, that I’ll go down now.” 
As Mrs. Godfrey said this, Mr. Buckle arose, took 
the Btool out of her way, and offering her his arm 
with a novel resemblance to gallantry which was 
astonishing In such a beginner, led her down to 
the cabin. [Conclusion next week.) 
fov tfw ifcumi). 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HISTORICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of- 42 letters. 
My 1, 42, 11, 24, 4, 26 was a Roman philosopher and orator. 
My 21, 6, 21, 3, 30, 11, 38, 10, 21 waa a palaco in ancient 
Thebes. 
My 28, 10, 4, 30. 10, 22, 32, 27 was a celebrated Athenian 
philosopher. 
My 8, 24, 4. 41, 21, 1, 34, 17 waa a distinguished Indian chief. 
My 4. 41, fi, SO. 10, 3 was an eminent Irish orator. 
My 20, lfi, 42, 3, 10, 37, 2, 27, 13. 26 waa the scene of a battle 
in the Mexican war. 
My 26, 16, 27, 2, 36, 7, 29 was a king of Egypt 
My 1, 28, 6, 23, 6, 11, 14, 36, 33, 26, 3, 24 waa one of the early 
Governors of Massachusetts. 
My 40, 9, 20, 34 was one of the most celebrated cities of 
antiquity. 
My 21, 10, 12, 28,1. 30,11 was a^residentof the United States. 
My 16, 23, 30, 21, 10, 27, 1, 40, 19, 3, 24 was a signer of tho 
Declaration of Independence. 
Mv 18, 7. 22, 4, 17 waa a Governor of the Connecticut Colony. 
Mv 81, 39, TO, 27, 6, 33 was a general in the Revolution. 
My whole is a true saying. 
Gainesville, N. Y., 1861. J. Martin Brainkro. 
£5?" Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
ACROSTICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 9 letter*. 
My 1, 2, 3, 6. 9 can he found in every city. 
My 2, 7. 5 is on every shoemaker’s bench. 
My 3, 2, 7, 5 accompanies every ship. 
My 4, 2, 9,1 is the farmer’s capital. 
.My 6, 2, 7, 3, 8, 9 can be found in any village. 
My 6, 2 9 is used by sailors. 
Mv 7, 2, 0 5a a curse, to any nation. 
My 8, 9. 2 embrace* many years. 
Mv 9. 8, 2 1 Is composed of many sheets. 
My whole is the name of an ancient ship. 
Waverly, N. T., 1861. Frank T. Sccdder. 1 !?! 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MATHEMATICAL QUESTION- 
A man being asked the age of himself and son, answered: 
“My age is six times my son’B age, and the sum of the 
squares of the numbers representing our ages is 5328.” What 
were their ages? 
Clymer, N. Y., 1861. C ' 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOMETHICAL PROBLEM. 
“ I havk a piece of laud in the form of an cquilateraltn- 
augle, and the radius of the inscribed circle is 10 rods. W liat 
is the area of the lot?” 
Sand Lake, Rens. Co., N. Y., 1861. 
Answer in two weekB. 
For Moore'B Rural New-Yorker. 
ENIGMATICAL CHARADE. 
Mv first is one of the most useful letters ol tbo I- 11 8 18 
language. My second is a kind of cake. My third is w ia 
most vooiur persons love to engage in. My whole is " a 
most young personB love to engage in 
every one desires. 
Ilatnpden Co., Mass., 1861. 
Answer in two weeks. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LARGEST ClRCUl.ATEri 
agricultural, literary and family weekly, 
is mamffEo every baturuay 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Terms in Advanfioi 
Subscription —Two Dollars a Year To CHibs and 
Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, lor .5, •_«. 
free to club agent, for *10, Ten, and one free, ot - • 
undone free, for *21; Twenty, aud one free, r,,r J-^ 
greater number at same rate —only *1-5 pcri ep • ( ^ 
extra free copy for every Ten Subscribers over i weniy. _ , 
papers directed to individual* and sent to many d-fle 
Post-Offices as desired. As we pre-pa.v American 
papers sent to the BHUsh Provinwe, our ana wn Qf the 
f'.'.dsmrst add l^'cents per copy to rateso 
Rckal. The lowest price of copies sent to Europe, 
*2.60 — including postage. 
I 
