“SEND THEM HOME TENDERLY.” 
Send (hem home tenderly, 
The Bleepers at rest, 
"With hands meekly folded 
On each silent breast; 
Let them come back to slumber 
Beneath northern skies, 
Where true hearts may weep o’er them, 
And prayer-incense rise. 
Send them home tenderly, 
The noble and true, 
Scarce gone from their hearthstones— 
Scarce whisper'd “adieu ”— 
Gone forth for their country, 
It* rights to sustain, 
Bnt, all bleeding ao<l lifeless, 
Returning again. 
Send them home tenderly, 
Our martyr’d and brave, 
With the stripes and stars round them, 
All robed for tbe grave. 
Bereaved mothers shall clasp them 
In pride to their breast. 
And the good of our nation 
Shall weep where they rest. 
Send them home tenderly / 
Each wound gaping wide 
Shalt send myriads of voices 
From the dark purple tide; 
And strong hands shall be grasping 
Tbe bright, unsheath’d sword, 
With fresh fervor to battle 
For right and the Lord. 
®Iw J'tfli’ii-liclln’. 
GRACE AND I. 
[Concluded from page 292, last number.] 
It was now the spring of the year —early spring— 
the last of March. The cattle lowed their welcome 
to the season, and jubilant crows sounded from the 
barn yard where the fowls paraded. Patches of snow 
yet lingered in the fields and by the roadside, but in 
our door-yard there was a visible greeuness springing 
up among tbe brown debris of last year’s grass; blue¬ 
birds and robins sang now and then their prophecies 
of summer; the air was mild, and the brook, freed 
from its icy slumbers, made itself heard ull day in 
soft delicious murmurs. I don’t know if such 
weather directs other people as it does me; I feel — 
not exactly discontented - but snob a longing after 
something. It seems :is if freedom, change, travel- 
seeing new scenes and new faces—would be so 
delightful. However, there was no use in thinking 
of that. The most exciting event we had to look 
forward to was house-cleaning—and that brought up 
afresh our lack of means. Grace and I went to the 
barn to hunt for eggs, peered into every corner of 
the mangers, climbed all sorts of steep places at the 
risk of our necks, bnt found nothing. So we sat 
down on a hay-mow and fell into conversation about 
our affairs. 
“ We really ought to paint and paper the house 
this spring,” said I. 
“Yes — if we could.” 
“And the sitting-room carpet is too shabby for any 
thing. I’ll never buy a cheap article of that sort 
again; there’s not ft bit of economy in it.” 
“Well, you know it was a choice between that or 
nothing. We hftd not the money for a good one. It 
looked mnch better than a bare lloor.” 
“I suppose it did. Then the wall must be mended 
if we can ever get the mason to spare us an hour — 
and oh, that roof, it leaks so badly!” 
“ It can't be helped, Janet; we haven’t the money 
to repair it. You know Mr. Brown said it would he 
quite an expensive job, if done thoroughly.” 
“ But when shall we have any more'/ I'm tired of 
hoping for better crops or better prices; they never 
come. And the outside of the house is getting so 
had; it looks more like a brown building than a 
white one. It ought to he painted, if only as a mat¬ 
ter of economy. The longer we wait the more it 
will take to do it.” 
“Yes, if we could,” said Grace, agaiu. 
“The fact is,” I continued, “that we want two 
hundred dollars this very minute to do what really 
needs to be done — not what we would like, hut what 
we want, to be respectable. Two hundred dollars, 
and we haven’t two hundred cents! And there’s no 
way of getting them that 1 can see, now or ever. 
The amount of it is, Grace, that I shall go dis¬ 
tracted !” 
“Don't,” said she, by way of cheering me up. 
“That would only be making fresh expense.” 
“Oh no. They have a ward in the poor-house for 
lunatics of a harmless sort, and I don’t think 1 shall 
be violent.” 
“ But mother and I would miss you so.” 
“ You may console yourselves with thoughts of 
following soon. You can regard me as ‘not lost, 
but gone before.’” 
Grace smiled. " It is rather wicked for us to talk 
so, even in jest,” she said. “Things haven’t come 
to quite that pass with us yet. But I do wish we 
could think of something to brighten up the scene a 
little.” And forthwith we resolved ourselves most 
vigorously into a committee of ways and means, but 
with very small result. 
“ Grace,” said 1, “suppose you take to authorship. 
I dare say you could do as well as a great many 
of them.” 
“Thank you,” she replied; “but I fear T haven’t 
the competent and critical knowledge of cookery 
and mantua-making necessary to success in that 
line.” 
“You mightn't do hooks, hut you could be a 
‘Maude Meeke,’ or something of that sort in the sen¬ 
sation papers. 
“ I haven't sufficient * intellect,’ Jenny. You know 
the heroes and heroines of those stories are always of 
the loftiest stamp. You remember what our little 
cousin used to say, 1 Brag is a good clog, hut Do is a 
better.’ I am afraid that when I had proclaimed my 
hero, tor instance, as possessing a mind of the high¬ 
est order, ami then had to furnish him out of my own 
brain with thoughts ami remarks in unison with his 
exalted genius, the contrast between ‘Brag’ and 
* Do ’ would he rather overpowering. Can’t do it, 
my dear; haven’t the first requisite.” 
A clever thought struck me. “Grace,” said I, 
“ let us prevail on mother to sell the farm!” 
“Sell the farm!” cried she, in amazement; “what 
are you thinking of? Mother would uo more do it 
than — ” She paused for want of a strong enough 
comparison. 
“But listen,” I continued, earnestly. “Nearly all 
the money we raise from it goes back on the land 
again in the shape of seed, labor, snd ‘improve¬ 
ments* generally. Now if we sold the place we 
should have — ” And I paused to do a sum in 
mental arithmetic. So many acres at such a sum per 
acre. “Dear me!" I exclaimed, “how little it is, 
after all.” 
“ And think of parting with our home — the place 
we were born in, and where we have always lived? 
Why, Jenny, you don't know what it would be. 
Every corner of the house is dear to us, and every 
tree in the orchard has some association.” 
I felt all this, too; but tbe substantial benefits to 
be realized attracted me. Tbe farm — say so much; 
then the “stock” would sell for something: we 
should have a little money in band to help ourselves 
with. I expounded my views to Grace till she began 
to acknowledge the feasibility of the plan, and to 
build castles with me. Our “ en Espagne ” were not 
at all of a luxurious character; we did not expect 
idleness or amusement, bnt good, solid work, and 
such advantages as might accrue from it. We would 
rent a house in the village — Grace should teach, if 
she could obtain the necessary pupilB; while I would 
raise our income to a comfortable standard by taking 
boarders. In our little town such a proceeding 
would involve no loss of ’ caste;” I was an adept in 
every sort of household labor, and could “set an 
excellent table,” as the phrase is. if I only bad things 
to set it with. There was no manner of doubt that I 
should do well. “ Of course we shall have to keep 
busy,” I said; “but that we are used to, and shall 
not mind. Jt will give ub a great deal more to spend; 
and what is better, we shall know what we have. It 
won’t go for things that make no return.” 
Once started, we went on as rapidly as the girl 
with the milk-pail. New carpets and chairs, and 
various other desirable acquisitions, shone upon ns 
from the future. By-and-by, perhaps, if we did well, 
we might try some larger village; keep a hoarding- 
school on a limited scale, Grace doing the head-work 
and I the hand. Our projects were wonderful, and 
we saw ourselves “laying up for old age,” besides 
enjoying a great many comforts as we went along. 
There was one terrible hindrance to the fulfillment 
of our desires —the getting mother to consent. 
Whenever we came to consider that branch of the 
subject we were brought np standing. It was like 
proposing a constitutional monarchy to an absolute 
sovereign, or informing a venerable president, that 
the interests of the college require him to resign. It 
would he better for her us well as ns could she only 
he brought to see it; hut who should broach the 
matter? — who argue and convince her? We talked 
It over many ft time, and got our courage almost to 
the point, as timid people with the toothache ponder 
the only remedy that can avail them, and wish so 
much they could , yet never quite accomplish it. 
Like them we deferred the dreaded moment. 
One day mother had gone to take tea with a neigh¬ 
bor. Grace and 1, as we turned and trimmed, and 
generally revamped those “best dresses” that we 
might have been known by any time during the last 
eight years, discussed our project for the thousandth 
time. A noise in the yard presently attracted my 
attention, and, looking out, I exclaimed, “ Why, 
here’s Dr. Olmsted!” 
Dr. Olmsted was our Dr. Kittredge. Not that lie 
owned two or three line horses — his only steed was 
a very square-built sorrel pony, with a stumpy little 
tail that was no sort of defense against the flies; and 
in snmmer-time he used to go by decorated with so 
many green boughs that he might have passed for 
Birnam wood on its way to Dunsinane, Nor did our 
worthy Doctor dive into psychological causes and 
effects, us did that kindly philosopher. He was a 
member, in “good and regular standing,” of the 
Baptist Church; and if he did not consider immer¬ 
sion as exactly needful to salvation, regarded it as 
the only proper “door,” and thought that people 
who did not go in thereat had got into the fold in a 
very unauthorized manner. I call him our Dr. Kit¬ 
tredge, because he was the oracle for all that section 
of country in every thing pertaining to medicine. 
His devotees were as absolute, if not quite as numer¬ 
ous, as those of Buddli or Brahma. If people died 
any where about, it was their own fault, in that “they 
didn't have Olmsted;” and supposing him to have 
been infinitely divisible, so that every clime and 
country could have had him, there was no good 
reason why the present generation should not endure 
forever. To he sure, once in a great while patieuts 
did die under his care; but that was because their 
time had come, wheu of course no skill could save 
them. 
For the rest, he was the kindest, liest-liearted 
person living, aud a great favorite with Grace and 
me, who had known him all our lives, llis wife, 
now some four or five years dead, had been our dear¬ 
est friend; one of those women on whose steadfast 
regard, chary of profession but prompt in deed, you 
could implicitly rely. The Doctor was now perhaps 
fifty-one or two, but very well preserved. As be 
dismounted from his sulky, which appeared to be a 
“cast,” only done in mud instead of plaster, there 
was no one we could have been better pleased to see. 
“Good afternoon, young women,” he said, glan¬ 
cing in at us. “ I hear your mother has some oats to 
sell. Can I look at them?” 
“Certainly, Doctor. You’ll find them in the car¬ 
riage-house.” He went his way, and presently re¬ 
turned, bidding us tell mother that he “would take 
the lot.” Then disembarrassing himself of a very 
rough and shabby overcoat, he announced his inten¬ 
tion of spending half an hour with us. 
“ Can’t you stay to tea, Doctor?” said Grace. 
“ Have you any thing very nice to tempt me?” he 
inquired. 
“ Nothing more than warm biscuit and maple sirup. 
Have you had any sugar yet?” 
“Not an ounce have I seen; the season has been 
very unfavorable. Well, if you'll give me an early 
tea I will stay for it.” And we talked a while of 
neighborhood matters. 
“Have 1 any thing of a purse-proud look?” he 
asked, after a time. “For I have received a heavy 
fee to-day.” 
“A consultation?” said I, for we knew’ he was 
often sent for from a distance.” 
“ No; a case de lunatico inquirendo ; a father taking 
out a commission to manage the affairs of his son, 
who is insane. I gave my testimony and was about 
to leave, when the man’s lawyer reminded him that I 
must have my fee. He tendered me this coin, inquir¬ 
ing if it would satisfy me; aud I informed him that 
it would, perfectly.” So saying, he displayed—a 
dime! 
“ And he actually had the face to offer you that!” 
I exclaimed. 
“ My dear, he was perfectly honest about it; he no 
doubt considered that it was an ample remuneration 
for my time and trouble.” 
“It takes all sorts of people to make a world," I 
remarked, with truth if not originality. 
“ And a doctor gets acquainted with most of the 
varieties. Speaking of consultations, I had a case 
last week that was a little too much for flesh and 
blood. A man over beyond the Guernsey had hurt 
his leg very badly” — (if yoa imagine, oh reader, 
that the Doctor said “limb" in compliment to 
ladies’ society you are very much mistaken,! — “and 
j they sent for me. I went as soon as I could, and 
found quite an array of the brethren; three — four— without Grace, and Dr. Olmsted used to come in fre- /jV 
physicians, they called themselves. We looked at qnently to cheer ns. Whether it is true, as be says. 
the man and looked at each other, as wisely as we that he had “had thoughts of me for a long time.’ I - - ■ - ~ _ 
knew how, and then retired Into a room by ourselves or that now, when only one was left he found it For Moore's Rural 
to coosnlt. The youngest, as in duty bound, gave easier to make np his mind as to which of ns he MISCELLANEOUS ENIG1 
his opinion first—to save the life the limb mnst be really wanted, I can not say. But be managed to __ 
Amputated; the next one followed suit—I could persuade me that thirty and fifty-two are not such i Alf composed of 15letters. 
hardly believe my ears; and so on till they came to very different ages, and that looking on a man as a j 5 2 . u i«a n imrtrnim-nt formed of steel. 
Comet lot llit fJflutMj, 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
persuade me that thirty and fifty-two are not such I am composed of 15 letters. 
• OT . . _ ___ .1 At_A 1 _ 1 •__-___ 
me. ‘Gentlemen,’ said I, politely, 'I shall be glad 
to have yon tell me v>hith of his legs yon propose to 
ampntate!’ Pack of ignoramuses! disgrace to the 
profession! The man will be around again in a 
month; and they would have sent him hobbling 
about on cork for the rest of bis days!” And the 
Doctor’s pleasant face glowed with indignation. 
“Very fortunate for him,” said my sister, “that 
he had such an accomplished surgeon to interfere in 
his behalf.” 
"No satire, if you please, Miss Grace. I don’t 
profess to be Keate or Brodie, but I do claim to have 
a modicum of common sense.” Which claim very 
few would incline to dispute. 
Tea was ready by this time, and while tbe Doctor 
sipped bis Hyson — very strong aud sweet, with 
plenty of cream —he informed ns that he was pres¬ 
ently to have a partner in his business, on whom be 
expected to pat nil the long, hard rides and heavy 
work, while he enjoyed the otiuni cum di unit ate in 
his office. The young man was quite a prodigy of 
good looks and talent, according to his account, and 
it was prophesied that Grace would lose her heart to 
him at sight In return for this news we confided 
our own plans to him, and requested his advice con¬ 
cerning them. He thought the notion a very good 
one, and volunteered to say as much to mother, if we 
liked. This took such a load from our minds, and 
the whole thing se.emed so much more feasible when 
a business man like Dr. Olmsted had approved it. 
“ I'll mention it day after to-morrow, when I come 
for the oats,” lie suit!, at parting. “ Ah, girls! how 
comfortable you make a man. 1 should have bad 
one of you in my own house long ago, if I could 
only have made up my mind which to take.” 
“Which of us would take you, you mean!” I an¬ 
swered, laughing. 
“Nonsense! you would either of you jump at the 
chance of such a handsome young husband,” he said, 
as he drove away. 
I shut the door and we talked about him; how 
merry and kind he was, and how like a father to ns! 
We speculated a little — not much — on the coming 
physician; whether he were really as “ nice ” as Dr. 
Olmsted boasted; whether we should consider him 
worth knowing or not. 
“ For that matter,” observed my sister, “ we shall 
uot probably be called on to decide. Such an Adonis 
will hardly trouble himself to make the acquaintance 
of ‘ single ladies of a certain age.’ ” 
Now if ever a speech sounded absurd it was this of 
Grace's, when yon looked at her fair, sweet face and 
girlish figure. I told her so; and then wc talked of 
what lay a great deal nearer our hearts than any 
doctor, young or old. Our plans seemed almost 
realized now that we had ventured to confide them 
to a third party, and we awaited, with mingled hope 
and anxiety, the Doctor's decisive visit. 
He came as was agreed, and gently and skillfully 
worked the conversation round to the desired point. 
How nervously we listened to him! and made errands 
out of the room every now and then to escape the 
first hurst of mother's surprise and wrath. For 
amazed and horrified -> *• truly was. What! we had 
grown too genteel to ln4 on a farm, hey? Wanted 
to move into the village and set up for ladies! Sell 
the farm, indeed, and leave herself without a home! 
The tiling was too preposterous to be thought of for 
a moment. 
The Doctor waited for her indignation to expend 
itself a little, aud then proceeded to set before her all 
father for a good portion of your life is the best 
possible preparation for regarding him as a husband 
during tbe remainder of it. 
Mother divides her time between the two houses, 
and is alternately “ridden over” by the youngsters 
of each, who conceive that grandma has no business 
in life but to make herself useful and agreeable to 
them. As for my own— Bnt, as I live, there is the 
Doctor’s sulky, and I must put away my writing and 
hurry Ann about the dinner, for he will be so hungry 
after his ride. 
FEELING FOR 
SUNBEAM. 
Toe sun has just hurst out throngh tbe clouds, and 
a heavy golden beam comes in at our window. How 
bright and cheerful! It comes in bo silently, yet it 
speaks to the heart. Yes. thank God for sunshine! 
Ages on ages it has illuminated and gladdened a 
world, yet wc hardly think of the great fountain of 
light and beauty. 
Writing of sunshine brings to mind a touching 
incident which came under our observation as we 
were traveling in the cars. Opposite was seated a 
family of four, consisting of a man and his wife, and 
two children—boy and girl — twins, totally blind. 
Two lovelier children we never saw. The family 
were from the South. A Southern sun had given 
each cheek a rich olive complexion, relieved by a 
beautiful bloom upon tbe children's countenances. 
The boy was lightly built, had finely chiseled fea¬ 
tures, and hair of a light, brown, clustering in rich 
curls around his neck. The girl was yet more slen¬ 
der, and fragile as a leaf, and of the most spiritual¬ 
ized beauty. Her hair was black as night, its heavy 
glossy tresscB confined by a golden band, which 
glittered brightly upon the dark background. They 
both seemed happy, conversing with an intelligence 
beyoud their years. The train stopped for a moment 
upon their route. The windows were all raised, and 
the children leaning out as tf to see. The little girl 
heaved a loDg sigh, and then leaned back in the seat, 
exclaiming, “0, mother, I cannot Bee anything.” A 
tear trembled in her eye, aud her voice was so sad 
and low that it went to the heart of every passenger 
who beard the beautiful and unfortunate creature. 
“Neither can T see, Belle; but I think that every¬ 
thing is beautiful,” said her brother, as the light 
wind lifted the thin locks. “ You are beautiful, are 
you not, Belle?” 
Just then a flood of sunshine gushed from the 
white clouds in the west, like a flash, and then fell 
full and warm upon the check of the sad girl, and 
upon the tears in her eyes. Quick as thought she 
put up her hand, and attempted to grasp the golden 
pencils that were playing through the braids upon 
her neck and cheek. Eagerly she shut her hand 
upon vacancy, and a shadow (ell upon her counte¬ 
nance as she failed to touch the sunshine. 
“ Mother, I cannot feel it; has it fled out of the 
window?” 
“What, Belle?” 
“ The sunshine mother. It touches my cheek, but 
I cannot touch it.” 
The mother’s eyes swam in tears, as did those of 
nearly all iu the cars. The blind girl feeling fora 
sunbeam upon her cheek! That beam was radiant 
with beauty, yet tsbo could not behold it. It gleamed 
upon a world, yet all was night to her. Its silver 
bursting in the cast, or its golden light fading iu the 
west, followed as day followed day; but it burst not 
My 3,12, 12, 2, U U a kind of fruit 
My 4, 5, IS, 11 is an indonsnment put on passports. 
My 7. 3, 6, 2 wu a Jewish King. 
My 8, 11.15, 7- 11 is a name. 
My 10. 9. 5, 2 is often starved. 
My 11. 2, 2, 5, 16 is a county in Texas. 
My 12. 5. 15. 3 U a city in Italy. 
My 13. 14. 10, 9 is a very large fish. 
My whole is the name of a learned and authentic Jewish 
historian. W. H. Tract. 
Palmyra, Wayne Co., N. Y., 1861. 
£3?” Answer in two weeks. 
-. » .- 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ENIGMA. 
The following enigma calls for an explanation. If cor¬ 
rectly read, it will be found to be an auful attempt at poetry. 
Try it: 
T. HESTOR, M. BYJE, DED1. AH! 
T. Hetb, under! R. 01 LI. ed? 
F.—romp; 0! Lot O polet! 
He—L. (I) ght. King lla. shed, 
Froms. kyto skyt. He (cat) T (?) 
Lest U C kupt. Heir tail sand 
Ru. nnncl sod (!) id Didi! 
Glendale, Ohio, 1861. 
Answer in two weeks. 
J. M. C. 
CHARADE. 
— 
My first is of the feline breed, 
My second all its race doth lead, 
My third yon look at as you read. 
My whole was a bold conspirator, 
Who strove to be great Rome's dictator. 
23^ Answer iu two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
General Butler heing suspicions that. Jeff. Davis was 
constructing batteries in the vicinity of Fortress Monroe, 
gave orders to Prof. Cakuxcociit to makenn ferial ascension. 
The General accompanying him, they rose the height of two 
(2) miles, aud with a telescope they observed the rebels ('(in¬ 
structing batteries at. Sc wall's Point, Wishing to know its 
distance from the Pot tress, they measured the angle formed 
by lines drawn from their elevation to the Fortress and to 
Sewell's Point, aud found it to be 96" 00'6'',— and the angle 
included between the perpendicular let fall upon the earth 
l from the balloon and Fortress Monroe to be 12’ 32 // . IIow 
! far is Sewall’s Point from Fortress Monroe? 
Gouverneur, N. Y., 1861. Edwin A. Dodds. 
£3?” Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS. &c.. IN No. 607. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:—Remember the Sabbath 
day to keep it holy. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem:—256,000 acres, or 20 
miles square. 
Answer to Cobbler's Sign: 
Answer to Charade:—A-bun-dance. 
jUmcrtiscmenis. 
An artificial leg- 
Invented by Douglas Bly, M. D. 
By frequent dissections, the Doctor succeeded in 
embodying the principles of the natural leg in an 
artificial one, and by so doing produced one of the 
itself a little, and then proceeded to set before her all upon her vision, or faded at decline of day. It doing produced one of the 
the proposed advantages. She fought every inch of gi,,wed in the sky, upon forest, field, lake and river; , I10gt complete and successful inventions ever attain- 
the ground; but men have always a way, somehow, no | j n blue orbs of the sightless girl. By a ed by man. 
of domineering us about every thing of a business 8 j njro ] at . coincidence the bov tried to feel of the A pamphlet containing full description and illua- 
nature —putting ns right down as ignorant or inca- bmjZe that came C o0l upon the cheek as the cars lratlons ^OUGLAB ^'BLY^LDritochetmL N. If. 
pable where we differ from them. The Doctor so eped 8W j ft | y on . The breeze swept over the yellow gee the annexed C ut, and also' letter from H. J. 
clearly proved to mother her utter unfitness to take fitdds and nie adows, and still waters, and coquetted Drake: 
charge of the farm — so set before her that she was wlth tbe j ouks 0 f t b e blind boy; but its footsteps f;0 /3 
the lawful prey and spoil of any one who had to deal W{ . ra ungeen by him. We involuntarily thanked God m 
with her —that in the end she promised to think t j iat we CO uld look upon the beautiful world He has ^-% 
about the matter. So wc considered the victory as madGi an< j dropped a tear for the hapless children wk. 
almost gained, and at once, iu imagination, selected w q 0 inU st grope their way to the grave throngh a long '‘ 4 yjnw& 
our house, engaged our hoarders, and were in the u ; g ht. But the light of bliss will burst npon them. J-Y'-i'f /•£’ JjS hHkv ^ 1 
full tide of successful operations. 
But a sudden period was put to all our plans — 
Grace fell sick. Whether she had taken cold in 
house-cleaning, Or got her feet wet in some of our 
long spring walks, we could not toll; but one day she 
complained of lever and a headache, and was soon 
prostrate with a severe and dangerous illness. 
Oh how little, how worthless every ambition we 
had felt looked to me as 1 sat by her bedside in those 
long nights, watching her uneasy slumbers, and 
oppressed by the dread that she never would recover! 
Nothing was of any consequence except to see her 
well again; or if that could not be, to rest assured 
that she had passed into a happier state. We had a 
long time of suspense, for when the first violence of 
the disease was over the Doctor dreaded a decline, 
and for weeks we watched and waited; but at last 
there came a day wheu he had nothing but good news 
for us, and thenceforth she recovered rapidly. How 
happy wo were! and what a miracle of skill we 
thought the Doctor! 
While Grace was at the worst our old friend trusted 
her case to no one hut himself. As she grew better 
he occasionally sent up his partner, or “pardner,” as 
he was more commonly denominated. Nothing but 
an angel direct from heaven could possibly have 
looked sweeter than she did in her convalescence, 
and I conld not-wonder that his visits were continued 
long after they ceased to he strictly necessary. 
“ ‘Single females of a certain age,”’ I remarked 
to Grace one day, “ do not seem to frighten Dr. 
Morris as much as you apprehended.’ - 
She blushed a very guilty crimson. “I have no 
doubt,” she said, “that he thinks us a couple of very 
nice old maids.” 
“Us!” 1 did not consider such barefaced hypoc¬ 
risy worthy of a single comment. 
It is a good tiling that people in real life are not 
obliged to linger along, and have quarrels, and he 1 
miserable, as they are in novels, in order to “make 
out the story.” Grace's true love contradicted the 
proverb and ran entirely smooth. Sommer passed 
and antnmn waned, and in the drear days of Decem¬ 
ber we had a quiet wedding. It realized my every 
ambition for this darling sister. Dr. Morris was all 
that our old friend had claimed for him: handsome, 
.. ^ 
pfll 
n 
PRENTICE’S FRIEND BOB. 1 * sSb ft If I* 
Our neighbor Bob McKee, the very smart editor of i PM- 
the Courier, as soon as he learned the result of Mon- i BpBjU j. r*. , 
day's election, started off upon a fishing excursion. M.']” : 
When the twelve disciples were in great trouble and ^-4^0® 
perplexity as to what they should or could do next, — 
Simon Peter, with his usual facility of resource, said, ~ 
“I go a fishing,” and Bob said so too. He was so "*• - 
appalled by the popular voice, that he at once Dk. BLy —Dear Sir: The artificial leg you made 
bounded from poll to pole. Finding that in political f or me ser ves me better than I ever supposed any 
conflict lie was out of his element, he went to see artificial leg could, 
whether he conidh-t h Ml a few pike, i», and e.th.h ^ 
out of theirs. Realizing that he could no longer my oats ra y ge if and raked and bound them; and I 
cheat the people, he lowered his pretensions materi- have been all around the neighborhood threshing. 
niii- oTiri nnriprtnolr to retrieve bis self-esteem bv fool- In fact I can do must all kinds of woik. 
ally and undertook to retrieve tus sen esteem uy 1001 ^ ^ motjon ftt lUe ailkle .j oint j* worth even¬ 
ing the poor, simple fishes. Unable to lead voters by thingi ]f i Btep on a s tjck or a stone, or on any 
the nose, he thought be- would try to pull fishes by uneven place, the ankle yields just enough to let tbe 
the lip. His present employment is decidedly the less foot accommodate itself tu it, aud thereby prevents 
. . , -v. I. , _...ill fW win all stumbling or inconvenience. 
Dr. Bly — Dear Sir: The artificial leg you made 
for me serves me better than I ever supposed any 
artificial leg could. 
I have mowed my grass myself — and that, too, on 
the lip. His present employment is decidedly the less 
scaly of the two, and we hope he will have lew hills 
and mountains to scale, and a good many fishes. It 
is highly probable that bis iiuny victims will sivallow 
his bait more readily than his readers have swallowed 
his statements. We protest against bis using nets; 
let him take his fish as his Southern Mends took 
their forts, arsenals, mints, and revenue cutters—by 
Most sinceiely and thankfully yours, 
IL J. DRAKE. 
Chelsea, Mich., August 15, 1861. 
H ICKOK’8 PATENT PORTABLE 
KEYSTONE CIDER AND WINE MILL. 
This admirable machine is no" ready for the fruit ham-ri rf 
1861 , It is, if possible, made better than ever before, aud weu 
ineir tuns, arsemus, mi me, auu the attenLon Lf farmer* wauling such Machine-, 
hooking them. We commend him to the fishing rod, it Urn- uo superior in tbe market, und is the only 
° , will nronerlv irrinii Grapes, rnce, ST0- ror mle b;. nwiieia 
and wc commend the rod to him; tor we know of no tUe manufacturer <J, HICK OK 
1 . Eagle Works. Harnsbuxs:, ! a- 
editor that more deserves it or deserves more of it. w*-iut _ f ' agm ” ursh ' 
In case he drops a line to a fine pike just to tell him ~~* =— ~**^' 
he would like to see him to dinner, he may, if his MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
liquors are good, drop us a line of like import. If at ^ CIRCULATED 
any time the question shall be whether he shall pull TT 1 r rn . llv 1VM , r.,ir„v ttffyty 
, big J. or a Me llsh .hall phU Mm ip, both AGRIClT.ilRAL, LITERARY AM) FAMILY WEEKLY, 
parties will please remember that we are a strict neu- 18 pcblisskd evert Saturday 
trality man. If he shall get into the liver and be BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
devoured by the inhabitants of the flood, we hope ^ ~~~ 
be 'will agree with them better than he has ever Terms in - \ anc€ 
agreed with any patriotic party. We presume, Subscription —Two Dollars a Year To Clubs and 
however, there is no danger of his drowning, else Agents as foUowaj-TUreeCopiesone year, tor & Six, one 
there is no truth in old adages. If he does not repent one tor’ m; Twenty.' and one fre*. for *25- and any 
of his sius amid the calm and quiet scenes of nature. number at «t>i p rate — only M 25 per copy ,—tvitb 
. . . . . “ .. __ Tn.n.Avr fb 
gentlemanly, with mind and cultivation that more the Worst we can have the heart to wish him is, that extra free copy for every Ten Subscriber* over Twenty. Club 
than satisfied her best ideal. Not wanting, either, in 
worldly prosperity, and, brst of all, fitted to aid her 
progress in that path which, since her illness, she 
had most earnestly desired to tread. 
In the course of the winter mother sold her farm, 
and we removed to the village; but we do not rely 
upon boarders for subsistence. It was very lonely 
t>UV> M Vi OU IT v VUM AJM.TW VMV -- ' OAV.u ■-''•■JV -- - r! * i I TOtll 
the mosquitoes, ticks, sand flies and cross dogs may « 
bite, and the fishes not. And please remember, dear w sgnt U) fte Bnt]4l Pr , jvir . ct .„. our Canadian agents and 
Bob, in all your fishing experiences, that the devil iB fr ; en( j B must add 12)4 cents per copy to tbe club rates of tbe 
the chief of fishermen, and that you are his Bob. rural, Tbe lowest price of copies sent to Burope, &c.. i» 
-- - » --- $2.50—including postage- 
“Comfort” that the F. F. V.’s can’t take this year. 13 ?-Postage Stamps are taken at par on subscription, and 
Old Point Comfort. greatly preferred tu Western or other uncurrent money 
