At midnight, on my lonely beat, 
Whex shadow wraps the wood and lea, 
A vision eeetns my view to greet 
Of one at home that prays for me. 
No roses bloom npoh her cheek— 
Her form ie not a lover’s dream— 
Bat on her face so fair and meek, 
A host of holier beauties gleam. 
Por softly shines her silver hair, 
A patient smile Is on her face, 
And the mild lustrous light of prayer 
Around her sheds a moon-like grace. 
She prays for one that's far away— 
The p.oldier In hi" holy fight— 
And begs that heaven in mercy may 
Protect her boy and bless the Right! 
Till, though the leagues lie far between, 
This silent incense of her heart 
Steals o’er roy soul with breath serene, 
And we no longer are apart. 
So, guarding thus my lonely heat, 
By shadowy wood and haunted lea, 
That vision seeing my view to greet 
Of her at home who prava ior me. 
Camp Cameron. Harper s Weekly. 
[From Godey’s Lady's Book for October .] 
JOSEPHA ASHTON’S NEW SILK DRESS. 
BY EDIT1I WOODLEY. 
It was late in October, and though the air was 
keen and frosty without, a bright, bickering fire 
diffused a genial warmth through the sitting-room 
of a rambling old farmhouse, which had evidently 
beeu constructed with a view to convenience rather 
than architectural beauty. 
The room looked very cheerful in the ruddy glow 
of the firelight, which searched out every nook and 
corner, and would have made the one solitary candle 
in the well-burnished candlestick unnecessary, had 
it not been that one of the two persiyig sitting near 
the fire was busy with her needle. This was Josephs, 
the only daughter of Joseph Ashton, the proprietor 
of the adjacent farm, which, though hard and rock- 
bound, was productive from being carefully cultivated. 
She was now sealed on one side of a small light-stand, 
while opposite her, in a low rocking-chair, sat a 
comely looking woman engaged in knitting a seamed 
stocking, which had arrived at that hopeful state 
toward completion called the “toeing Off.” The 
confidence and affection manifested by each toward 
the other might have made them mistaken—as, in¬ 
deed, they often were—for mother and daughter. 
But .Tosepha Ashton had long been motherless. The 
rose hush which she and her brother George so care¬ 
fully planted one bright May morning had the lust 
summer for the eighth time shed its white bio soma 
on the turf beneath which their mother was calmly 
sleeping. 
The ties which bound the two together—Josephs 
Ashton and Rhoda Ellis sitting on either side of 
the light maple light-stand, were not those of con¬ 
sanguinity. They had first found root in the warm 
and kindly heart of her who now sat in the low 
rockiug-chair, and who had watched with affectionate 
solicitude over Joscpha's infancy and childhood. 
She had been in the family ever since Mr. Ashton’s 
marriage, and, on account of Mrs. Ashton’s failing 
health, was soon obliged, in addition to the duties 
of domestic service, to assume those of the house¬ 
keeper, which were carefully and efficiently per¬ 
formed. 
What will George and Josepha do, if you go 
away,” was the question which Mr. Ashton asked 
her when, soon after the death of his wife, she spoke 
to him about leaving. 
“Sure enough, poor things! what can they do 
with nobody but a stranger to take care of them, and 
for them to tell their childish sorrows to?” And, as 
she spoke, tcarB sprung to her eyes. 
“ If you could only stay,” said Mr. Ashton. 
“I ran and will.'-' And Rhoda Ellis took off her 
bonnet and shawl in a very decided manner. 
The subject was never again mentioned. 
There were not wanting those who soon began to 
•whisper among themselves that Rhoda Ellis would 
make Mr. Ashton an excellent second wife. The 
subject at last, after being a good many times dis¬ 
cussed, was mentioned to her. The way, however, 
in which it was received prevented it from being 
renewed whenever she was present. There was a 
solemnity, even severity in the manner she spoke of 
what she termed their foolish and wicked gossip, 
which, if persisted in, might he the means of driving 
her from a place where she could minister to the 
wants of two motherless children who had learned 
to love tier. It both surprised and abashed them, 
for they had not looked for anything of the kind 
from the lips of the easy, good-natured Rhoda Ellis, 
as she had always been called in the neighborhood. 
“You might know, if you don’t,” said Bhe, in 
winding np her remarks, “that Mr. Ashton has no 
thought of a second wife; and if he had, it isn’t I, 
or, as to that, auy one in this part of the country 
who could till the place of such a woman as Ella 
Ashton was.” 
But Rhoda Ellis, to say the least, was one of the 
best of housekeepers, being always ready for the 
performance of whatever came within the province 
of her duties. 
For the last two years she had been silently and 
gradually yielding the direction of the household 
affairs to Josepha, who was now eighteen. Rhoda 
was very proud of her, and she had reason to be. 
“She has the same ways her mother had,” she 
would often say; “and, if she isn’t called handsome, 
her looks suit me.” 
And. as Josepha sat there, plying her needle, with 
the crimson flashes of the wood-fire brightening her 
complexion, rieb and pure with the hues of health, 
and shimmering over her shining hair, parted back 
from her forehead with a wavy, undulating grace, 
almost any one who had seen her would have been 
ready to echo her remark. Yet, after all, it was her 
bright, sparkling smile which gathered the dimples 
round her red lips, and sometimes broke into one of 
those sudden ringing laughs, sweet as gushes of bird 
melody, that did more than aught else to brighten 
the faces and warm the hearts of the home circle. 
This evening the lighting up of her countenance 
was more frequent and more brilliant than usual, for 
her mind was full or fond and pleasant thoughts of 
her absent brother, who was now daily expected. 
Now and then she spoke of him to Rhoda, who was 
quite as proud of him as slie was of Josepha, and 
loved him almost as well. And she and his father 
and sister had reason to be proud of him; he had 
just left college, having graduated with the highest 
honors; and then he was so handsome, so frank, and | 
so noble-minded; he was generous, too. It is true 
that be was apt to he thoughtless, which caused him 
in some instances to be too lavish when his father’s 
somewhat straitened circumstances were taken into 
view; but these indiscretions were readily forgiven. 
“It does him so much good to be generous,” Rhoda 
would say. It probably would have done him less 
good if he had been sensible of the unceasing toil 
and careful economy to which his faiher, in his great 
reverence for learning, had cheerfully submitted to 
secure to him the benefit of a liberal education. It 
was very possible that, like the parents of Dominie 
Sampson, Mr. Ashton might have a hope—though, 
like theirs, it was certainly not founded od any 
uncommon aerlourness of disposition manifested by 
his son—that he “might wag his paw in a pulpit 
yet” Even Tihoda Ellis, though not exactly con¬ 
scious of it was stimulated to exertion and sustained 
under many personal privations by a lurking ambition 
which pointed to a similar result. As for Josephs, 
with that cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirits which 
are the natural gifts of youth and health, no toil was 
too severe, no self-sacrifice too great if they Could 
be made conducive to her brother’s comfort and 
enable him to maintain that degree of fitness and 
propriety in his dress which would impart respecta¬ 
bility to his personal appearauce and save him from 
being an object of mirth to his fellow students; for 
even tier limited experience had taught her that a 
threadbare coat, a napless hat, and dilapidated shoes 
made their wearer, in the eyes of the gay and 
thoughtless, a legitimate subject for banter and 
ridicule. 
“I have been thinking,” said Rhoda, “that you 
had better buy the silk for your new gown before 
long; the lost time we were over to the village we 
saw a piece of silk at Smith's store that would just 
suit yon, and if you don’t rnuke sure of some of it 
soon, it may all he gone.” 
“1 don’t know but that I ought to give up having 
it,” replied Josephs. 
“Well, / know that you hadn’t. You are eighteen 
now, and there isn’t a girl in Mapleton but what 
thinks she must have a silk gown when she arrives 
at that age. Even Job Brocklc’B daughter bad one 
then, though she has to earn every inch of her 
clothing by going out to work. And then we’ve 
both of us been trying so hard for full six months to 
scrape together the wherewithal to buy it with.” 
Just as she finished speaking, they heard some one 
enter the outer door, and the next moment that com¬ 
municating with the sitting-room was unceremo¬ 
niously thrown open, giving entrance to a lad of 
fourteen. He was tall of his age, had a thiu, 
freckled face, large gray eyes, and a wide mouth. 
The habitual cast of his countenance was Had and 
wistful, but the moment he saw Josepha it was irra¬ 
diated with a smile, the effect of which was almost 
magical, so entire was the transformation it wrought 
in the expression of his features, particularly of his 
eyes and month. With a shambling gait, greatly 
enhancing the general awkwardness of his appear¬ 
ance, he walked up to where she was sitting, and 
handed her u letter. 
“Thank you, Natty,” said she. “Did you get it 
at the post-office?” 
“ Yes’ra.” 
“And you’ve walked a whole mile this sharp, 
frosty evening to bring it to me.” And as she spoke 
she glanced at his thin, insufficient clothing, which 
exhibited rents so large and numerous as to make it 
safe to conclude that whoever had the care of it did 
not realize the truth of the old adage that “ a stitch 
in time saves nine.” “Take a chair, Natty, and 
draw up close to the fire.” 
“I shouldn’t mind goin* as fur ag’in,” he replied, 
taking a chair and placing it near one corner of the 
fireplace, “for the sake of gettln’ a few sich words 
as I'm al’ays sure of if 1 do anything to obleege yon; 
asd as for being cold, what do I care, when jest a 
glimpse of yonr face, which al’ays seems to have a 
whole heap of sunshine in it, makes me feel so glad 
and warm here”—placing his hand on his side— 
“that it’s enongh sight better to me than Mr. Hard- 
ley’s now greatcoat is to him.” 
“ I don’t doubt it a bit,” said Rhoda. 
“Have you had any supper, Natty?” inquired Jo- 
seplut, who noticed that his eyes often rested on a 
covered dish near the fire, containing some hash 
intended for her father, who had gone to the mil!. 
“None to speak of; Miss Hawley ain’t willin’ I 
should cat much at night, ’cause she says ’twill make 
me sick if I do, and then there’ll be a doctor’s hill 
to pay.” 
Rhoda Ellis put aside her knitting, for she under¬ 
stood the look which Josepha gave her, and left the 
room; in a few minutes she returned with a large 
plate in which were plenty of doughnuts, and a 
smaller one containing several thick, substantial 
slices of cheese. Having put them on a little ronnd 
table, which she drew close to Natty’s side, slxe took 
from a cupboard a large custard pie, that crowning 
delicacy of a country bill of fare, at least in the 
estimation of the younger members of a family. 
Rhoda Ellis, who, had 6lie possessed the means of 
following her own generous impulses, would lutve 
been the Lady Bountiful, not only of Mapleton, but 
the whole country, hastened to place a piece of the 
custard on Natty’s plate, of dimensions so ample 
that the angle dipping into the heart of the pie had 
none of that provoking acuteness common to tbai 
particular part. With its rim of flaky crust and 
golden-hued surface, looking more delicious from 
being flecked with brown, the sight of it might have 
made the ruoutli of a hoy of fourteen water who bad 
been subjected to a regimen far less severe than poor 
Natty. 
“There,” said Rhoda, “yon must eat all the pie, 
and as many of the doughnuts as you can; I’ll war¬ 
rant ’em not to hurt you. The cold, frosty air will 
take care of that.” 
A longing look at the tempting food, a bashful, 
sidelong glance at Josepha, who apparently was 
wholly absorbed in the contents of her letter, and 
then, taking heart of grace, he no longer hesitated 
to obey Rhoda’s command. 
“ 1 told you that you must eat all of the pie,” said 
she, seeing him, in the nice, gingerly manner which 
he thought so great a delicacy deserved, cut it into 
two equal parts, one of which he carefully put aside. 
“Yes, Natty, eat, it all,” said Josepha, looking up 
from her letter. 
And he did eat it all, and by the time he had 
finished, his lips and cheeks, which had looked 
pinched and blue with the cold, had turned red, and 
his eyes looked bright and beaming. When he left, 
he had mittens on his hands and a nice warm com¬ 
forter round his neck. 
“ Is the letter from George?” inquired Rhoda Ellis, 
as soon as Natty was gone. 
“Yes,” replied Josepha, rather absently, as if her 
thoughts were busy on some perplexing subject. 
“I am afraid,” said Rhoda, “that he isn’t coming 
home as soon as he expected, or he wouldn’t have 
written.” 
“Yes, lie is. .’will read the letter to you.” And 
she read as follows: 
“ Mr Dear Sister: —I am passing a few days with 
Aubrey Chester, who, as you have often heard me 
say, was my room-mate the last two years we were 
in College. I could not well refaee his pressing 
invitation, as 1 would willingly have done, knowing 
as I did that accepting it would involve the 
necessity of inviting him to return my visit. 1 
took an early opportunity to request that he would 
accompany me when I returned home, which he 
assented to without hesitancy, as I very welt knew 
that he would, from certain allusions I bad heard 
him make relative to the charm of those social 
gatherings peculiar to the country, such as apple- 
bees, buskings, quilting, etc. 
When at home, Aubrey iB accustomed to living 
in almost princely style, which will suggest to you 
the necessity of doing what you can to make things 
decent and comfortable, for when the best iB done 
that can be, the contrast will be sufficiently glaring. 
It is impossible for me to go into the minutisc of 
what ought to he done, or even what cannot well be 
left undone. All that sort of thing I leavo to the 
ingenuity of you and our good, kind Rhoda, possess¬ 
ing as I do unbounded faith in the abundance of 
your resources, which in time of need never appear 
to fail you, and which in the paucity of ray own 
inventive powers T never should dream of. I will 
barely name one thing which cannot be omitted; the 
spare chamber, which, of course, must be appro¬ 
priated to Aubrey’s use, mutt be papered. It ought 
to be painted, too; but Rhoda’s skill in the art of 
renovating is such that the painting may poxsihly he 
dispensed with. I dare say that paper which will 
answer the purpose can be obtained over to the vil¬ 
lage for a dollar a roll. 
You may expect to sec us in just a week from the 
date of this letter. I am aware that I ought to have 
let you know sooner; but, somehow, there have been 
so many things to engage my attention that time 
slipped away imperceptibly. 1 would say a few 
words relative to the expediency of some addition to 
your wardrobe did I not know that a girl of eighteen 
never fails to have such articles of dress on hand as 
are proper and becoming in a case of emergency.” 
Thus far Rhoda Ellis had preserved a grave silence, 
hut this allusion to Josepha’s dress was 80 great a 
tax on her equanimity that she could no longer 
retain the appearance of composure. 
“I should like to know where he thinks the 
articles come from,” said she, with a voice and look 
of great indignation. “ I never knew anybody to be 
so thoughtleBB as he is. This is the second time 
we’ve got enough together to buy you a silk gown, 
and now ’twill all have to go into the spare chamber 
for the sake of one who is a stranger to us, and who 
has ways and means enough to enjoy himself without 
coming to such a poor place as this is.” 
“Don’t think about the silk gown,” said Josepha; 
“I gave it up the moment I read the letter, and even 
before it came T hadn’t, as you know, exactly made 
up my mind about having it.” 
“But you wanted to have it, for all that; I know 
all about it.” And she gave her head a little toss, a 
way she had when anything occurred to make her 
angry, which, to her credit, was very seldom. 
Josepha did not contradict her assertion; Bhe did 
wish for the dress; and not only that, Bhe needed it; 
hut, self-abnegation was a virtue which had already 
become familiar to her* and, after a short struggle 
with that d>'-irc which any young girl similarly situ¬ 
ated would naturally feel to appear attractive in the 
eyes of other’s, Bhe bravely and cheefully dismissed 
the subject from her mind. 
"On the whole,” said she, speaking up in her 
bright, cheerfnl way, “it is fortunate that we had 
some motive for getting the money together. Had 
it not been so, we should now be without the means 
of complying with George's request, and the room 
dots want renovating and brightening up. I was 
thinking the other day, when looking at the dull, 
lead-colored paper, how gloomy it made the chamber 
look.” 
“ Well, Aubrey Chester won’t care whether it’s the 
color of lead, or of gold. For my part, I think you 
are of mach more consequence than the spare cham¬ 
ber is.” 
“Oh, I can do quite well with this,” and Josepha 
rose as she spoke, and held up the winter dress she 
had been making for herself, in which she had set 
the last stitch. “ Only see,” she added, “ what« 
warm, rich 1 rowu it is!” 
“ Well, it is a good color, nobody can deny that; 
and it’s a nice flue, soft piece of cloth, too.” And 
as sh« examined it, the look of good humor which, 
above all others, was the characteristic trait of her 
countenance, displaced the cloud.hovering on her 
brow. 
A degree of self-complacency, too, might have 
been observable, and well it might be; for the cloth 
was of her own manufacture, and colored with uiobs 
Josepha had gathered, plenty of which could be 
found adhering to the large blocks of granite lying 
round the fields and pastures. 
“As there’s a good deal to do, and a short time to 
do it in.” paid Josepha, “we must set about it at 
once. If father isn't going to make use of the horse, 
you and 1 roust go over to the village as soon as we 
can, after breakfast. I think it will be best to go 
round by Aunt Sally Farnsworth's—it won’t be 
much further that way—and see if she won’t come 
home with us, and help ahont papering the room. 
Aunt Sally is one of those who can turn her hand to 
anything, you know.” 
“Yes, and if wo can only get that done, I sha’n't 
care for the rest. If money is hard to get at, where 
there’s a farm as well cuRivulted as your father 
always cultivates his, there’s no ft-ar but that there’ll 
be a plenty to eat and to drink.” 
“And that which is good, when you’re about,” 
said Josepha; “how is the maple-sugar — isn’t that 
getting low?” 
“No, we’ve a plenty to last till the time comes 
round to make it again." 
Mr. Ashton's return from mill, with his wagon 
loaded with bags of wheat flour, and rye and Indian 
meal, was the signal for Josepha to put the tea to 
draw, while Rhoda hastened to make some toast. 
This, with the warm hash, some slices of cold ham, 
with the addition of doughnuts and custard-pie, such 
as had given strength to Natty, and rejoiced his 
heart, were ready by the time Mr. Ashton had 
stabled his horse and deposited his hags in the 
store-room. 
Mr. Ashton’s personal appearance was such as 
would have caused the eye of a stranger to single 
him out in a mixed assembly. While necessity had 
compelled him to labor almost unremittingly with 
his hands, the expression of his countenance, atid 
those lines indicating intellectual power, showed 
that he had not suffered his miud to lie waste. As 
he took his seat at the table which had been placed 
in comfortable proximity to the fire, Josepha held up 
her brother’s letter. 
jalk. 
“ From George,” said she. “ He says we may ex¬ 
pect to see him next Tuesday.” 
“ We shall all be glad to see him.” 
He said this very quietly, hut Josepha knew, by 
the ruddy glow which it sent to his cheek, that the 
thought of bis coming warmed his blood. By the 
time he had finished his Bupper, she had, in her own 
pleasant way, omitting only the allusion to her dress, 
made known to him the different items contained in 
the letter. 
“ I shall be glad — heartily glad to have his friend 
Aubrey come with him,” said he. “ Besides, the 
hospitality which he has accepted, should be recip¬ 
rocated; but as to the chamber, dingy as it is, I 
believe it must remain so; I’ve only the means of 
raising money enough to pay the taxes, and never in 
my life, except in case of sickness, have I suffered 
them to remain unpaid the first time they were 
called for.” 
“ Papering the chamber is our affair,” said Rhoda, 
who in her secret heart, notwithstanding her recent, 
somewhat angry demonstration, would have preferred 
living on bread and water for weeks, rather than to 
have George disappointed. “ As long as I can get 
well paid for all the knitting I can do,” she went on 
to say, “if it iB a slow way of earning money, T 
guess when added to what Josepha gets by making 
netting fringe, which everybody, now-a-days, must, 
to he in the fashion, have to trim the window and bed 
curtains with, that we can buy a few rolls of room- 
paper, and have something left in the locker.” 
“ Well, daughter, you and Rhoda can do jnstas you 
think best about it,” was Mr. Ashton’s answer. [To 
he concluded next week.] 
OUR FALL CAMPAIGN! 
The Rural, on Trial, at only Half Price! 
mnmn 
In response to late requests from Agents and 
others, we would state that, in order to accommodate 
those wishing to try the Rural New-Yorker fora 
few months — and also as a means of introducing it 
more generally in many localities preparatory to the 
commencement of anew volume — we have comiln- 
ded to offer the paper from September 1st to January, 
or from October to January, at only Half Prick. 
We will therefore send the Rural from September 1st 
to January (4 months, or 17 papers,) for 33 tents — or 
3 copies for $1, 6 for $2, <fcc. From October to Jan¬ 
uary (3 months —13 papers,’/ at only 25 cts. per copy 
—or 4 copies for SI, 8 for ?2, 12 for S3, Ac. In each 
case we will send to as many different post-offices as 
desired. Our Canada friends will rtf course add 
American postage (at the rate of 12] cts. for 12 
' months,) to the above rates. 
jMJ' This is offering the Rural below war price*, 
i and at a rate affording ns no profit. But we hope, by 
j thus furnishing the paper at or below cost, to intro¬ 
duce it to thousands who will become permanent 
subscribers. As the times are improving, and the 
long evenings and period of leisure arc coming on 
apace, we trust the agents and other fiiends of the 
Rural will kindly aid in extending its circulation 
and benefits. Almost any reader so disposed, caH 
obtain from 4 to 20 trial subscribers with compara¬ 
tively little effort — thus not only benefiting individ¬ 
uals and community, hut contributing to the future 
prosperity and usefulness of the paper. Friends of 
the Rural and its Objects! will you not make some 
effort in the right direction — to further the circula¬ 
tion of the favorite Rural Weekly, and render ita 
Fall Campaign successful? 
VANITIES FROM “VANITY FAIR.” 
Literary Lynchings in the South. —The Charleston 
Mercury announces the “suspension” of a number 
of S. C. secession papers, and the “cutting down” 
of two, the Southron and the Enquirer. V. F. would 
suggest, as the best course with regard to the editors, 
that they he suspended and not cut down. Talking of 
suspension, three or four traitor papers in New York 
are “ hanging by the eyelids.” 
“ Cut this out. 11 — For organizing an army, feeding, 
clothing, and equipping it, and going into war 
business, in general, the American people stand a loan. 
Something of a Rush. —Which Summer Retreat was 
the most crowded this season? That from Manassas 
to Washington. 
A Good Name. —We are rejoiced to learn that Mr. 
G. F. Ketclium has been appointed Quartermaster of 
the Boston Light Artillery. Many of our contractors 
need a Ketclium very much, and a few of them a 
plain Ketch. 
How would they like it. — There are a number of 
heavy guns now in the fortifications on Arlington 
Heights, and, at the risk of beingthought traitorous, 
we must say that we wish the rebels would take the 
whole charge of them. 
Sentiment by one in the paint business. —“ We have 
got to put the rebels through the mills, don’t you see, 
till we take all the grit out of them.” 
Southern Notes Depreciated. — According to the 
Nashville Danner, the treasury notes of the rebel 
Confederacy arc “ miserably executed.” They are not 
so badly done as the fools who take them. 
llow they differ. —The man Jeff. Davis: A reck¬ 
less one. The privateer Jeff. Davis: Oho wreck 
more. 
Garments for the Seat of War —The breaches made 
by the artillery. 
Bail required for the appearance of the Southern 
Loan —The Cotton Bale. 
Why do our soldiers need no barbers? Because 
they are regularly shaved by the Government con¬ 
tractors. 
What Samba thinks of Bull Run— There’s victory 
in de feet. 
(&mmt fot :tl« itofj 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 28 letters. 
My 24, 12, 20 is a river to Asia. 
My 28, «, 10, 14. 8 . IT, 23 Is * river in Asia. 
My 18, 20, 25. 9. 3. 2 is a river in Europe. 
My 22, 14 16, 7, 20. 4 is a river in Asia. 
My 15. 1, 23 25, 11 is a river in Europe, 
My 5. 11, 13 is a river in North Carolina. 
My 7 , 20, 24, 16. 27, 26. 10, 19, 2 is a river in South America. 
My 24, 27, 14, 25. 24, 21, 24 is a river in South America. 
My whole is a very useful and distinguished work. 
Jersey, Ohio, 1861. Lillis. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS. 
My 1 st is to dis 6 gure, a pronoun, and a kind of metal. 
My 2d is a bird and its beak. 
My 3d is the orgau of sight and a word denoting brilliancy. 
My 4th is a blossom, a preposition, an article, and a space of 
time. 
My 5th is a race of men and a vegetable. 
My 6th is a bird and an instrument. 
My 7th is a number, an exclamation, and an instrument to 
measure lime. 
My 8 th is a quadruped and a cover for the hand. 
My 9th is elevation, a preposition, and my native State. 
My 10th is a flower and a feminine name. 
Glendale, Ohio, 1861. J. M. C. 
Answer in two weeks. 
CHARADE. 
My first a baby does when you pinch it, 
My second a lady says when she does not mean it, 
My third exists and no one e'er has seen it. 
My whole contains the world's best half within it. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
^Vfamliscnients. 
A gents waxted to sell fruit trkeh. 
We wiHhto employ a number of experienced and trust¬ 
worthy men to sell tires. Ac-, from our Nurseries at liberal 
wages. 
W holes ale P kalis bs furnished with Nursery, Stock ef all 
descriptions at the lowest wholesale rales. 
HOuKF.R, EARLEY A CO.. 
IWAtf Rochester Wholesale Nurseries. Rochester, N. 7 
“FAMILY NEWSPAPER.’ 1 - 
F 
Mrs. Hankins' Mammoth Pictorial U to its Sixth Volume 
and has SOOJWOreaders. 1 'nll of Engraving* and Fashion Plater. 
Largest, nicest sno best in t.he world (nr ?ft vre. a year Aosim 
wanted Ladies. Teachers, Clergymen, Or Post-Masters For 
Specimen Copies and Terms to Age:,'-. inclose red stamp to 
878 
4ft & CO., New York, 
W HEELER & WILSON MANUFACTURING CO’t 
MPUOVKD FAMILY 8EUI.YG MACHINES 
WITH NEW 
Glass Cloth. Presser and Hemmers, 
AT REDUCED PRICES. 
THE WHEELER A WILSON MANUFACTURING CO be* 
to state that they have reduced the prices of their SEWING 
MACHINES, while they have added new and important im¬ 
provement*. The reduction is made in the hope that the Com¬ 
pany will have no more legal expenses defending their pAtenta 
Office DOS Broadway, New York. 
H. VV. DIBBLE, Agent, 
579-tf UOCHKSTKR. N. t 
COUNTRY AGENTS WAJNTEI).- 
fa * Day Mrs Hanfctti* wants Agents at boms or to 
travel for her I’ictortal " FAMILY .N KWsPaPKH,' also for b»r 
Curious New Brink of PEMAl.E CHARACTERS is rat CITY. 
For Specimens arid Terrna inclose red stamp to HANKINS A 
CO., New York _ 
I lllIK.— I'nge’n Urrpenuil Kiln, Pittenleii July, 
_J 1887.— Superior to any in use for Wood or Coal curds 
ol wood, or li» tuns of coal to 100 bbls.— coal not mixed writ 
stone. Sddrees U84-tf.l 0 l> PAOV Rnahe-ter V t 
FOR Ft TJ Ft A. LISTS. 
j^OOKS 
Tub following works on Agriculture, Horticulture, &c„ nmy 
be obtained ut the Office of tho Rural Nkw-Yokkkh. Wer*n 
also furnish other books on Rural Allaire, issued by American 
publishers, at the usual retail prices,—and shall add new work* 
as published. U?" RpkaL Agents entitled to premiums, and 
who are offered a choice of books, can select from this list. 
Hyde sChloese Sugar Cano it 
American Farmers Eocy 
clop 
Allen 
Clojtedia,.00 Johnston's Agriculture. 
lien'.- Am Farm Ilnok_1 CO Chemistry. ..125 
Allen's Disease# nf Domes¬ 
tic Animals... 76 
Allen's Rural Architecture 1 28 
Alien on the Grape,.- 1 00 
Am Architect, or Plana for 
'Country Dwellings ..—600 
imerioin Florist's Guide, 78 
American Florist's 
Barry's Fruit Garden.I 38 
Blake's Fanner at Home,. 1 28 
Boussingattlt'* Rural Ecou- 
uiu.v. . . --1 ** 
Bright on Grape Culture, 2d 
edition. ...... 60 
Browne's Bird Fancier. 80 
Browne's Poultry Yard.... 1 00 
On. Field Bonk of Manures ! 28 
Bridgeman'e Guiv). Axel-150 
Do Florist's Guide..—... 60 
Do. Kitchen Gardener's In¬ 
structor---60 
Do, Fruit Cult. Manual.... Co 
Break's Book or Flowers....! 00 
Buist's Flower Garden.....1 28 
Do. Family Kitchen Gam 75 
llu-racal Field Lectures 1 «A» 
Chinese .Sugfti Cane and 
Sugar Making. 2“ 
Chorlton's Grape Growers 
Guide... 60 
Cobbett’s Am. Gurdeuer W 
Cottage and Farm Bee¬ 
keeper .------. 6 ° 
Colek Am. Fruit Book. SO 
Do. Am. Veterinarian..- 60 
Dadd .- Modern Horse Doc.. 100 
Do. Am Cattle Doctor ....100 
Do. Anatomy and Pliysi- 
olov of the Horae.2 00 
Bo, colored plates.... * 00 
Dana's Muck Manual.......I 00 
Do. Prise Ksiay on Manures 25 
Darlington's Weeds and Use¬ 
ful Plants...1 *0 
Davy's Deveu Herd Book I 00 
Domestic arid Ornamental 
Poultry...... .100 
Do. colored plates....-,-2o0 
Downing's Fruits and Fruit 
Trees—.-l ? 6 
Downing's Landscape Gar¬ 
dening.350 
Do. Rural Lteft.VS. 8 00 
Eastwood's Cranberry Cul¬ 
ture . 60 
Elliott's West Fruit Bonk 1 25 
Every Lady her own Flower 
Gardener. 60 
Family Doctor by Prof. H. 
S Tavlor. J 28 
Farm Drainage, (II. F 
French).-.1 00 
Few-endon's Fanner and 
Gardener..1 28 
Do. Am Kitchen Garden,. 50 
Fields Peat Culture.1 no 
Fish Culture. 1 te) 
Flint on Graa-es.,...125 
Guenon on Milch Cows.... GO 
Herbert to Roree-keepere..l 2 !, 
Hooper's Dog A Gun, paper, 25 
Do. do. cloth... 60 
Hough's Farm Record.3 00 
Kidder's Guide to Apiarian 
Science..— 60 
A park is to he surrounded with a walk which shall occu¬ 
py just 25-64 of the whole number of square rods in the 
park. What must be the width of the walk, supposing the 
park to he 16 rods long by 12 wide? 
Castile, N. Y., 1861. Durr. 
£3?” Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 610. 
Answer to Biblical Enigma:—Have faith in God. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—David Livingstone. 
Answer to Charade:—Count Rod-e-rick. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem:—117 feet and 9 inches. 
Do. Elements of Ag. Chen. 
ivtry and Geology.180 
Do. Catechism ol Chen i-l.-y 
for Schools. 35 
Laug-trotn on the Hive and 
Honey Bee. 125 
Leuchar* Hot Hous.es r25 
Liebig's Familiar Lettera '.o 
Farmer* ..... 50 
Mosley's Morgan Horse; .1 ft) 
Miner-Bee-keeper's Mxmix.1 H) 
Miles on the Horse's Foot. 5) 
llilburnonCow. 28 
Modern Cookery by Mls> 
Actoo nnfl.Mt-s 8 J Halr.l 23 
Mrs. Abel's Skillful House¬ 
wife and Cadies'duie. W 
Saxton's Kura! Hand Booii 
boundiu t Senes ....ram 1 -2 
Minin's Land Dratuer. K) 
Nitsh'sProgre-sive Farmer 0 
Neill's Gaol. Companion iu) 
Norton's Elements of Agrv 
culture.. S) 
Oleott'.vSprgho and Implies] 00 
Pardee on the Miawbcrri m) 
Pedder's Laud Measure.-. . Jo 
Person's New Culture of Lld 
Vine.. 85 
Phelps' Bee-keeper's Chart 26 
yuinov '8 Mybteriesof Bee¬ 
keeping..I «> 
Gainey on Soiling Cattle... <*) 
Rabbit Fancier. « 
Kaudall's Sheep Husband¬ 
ry .. US 
Richardson on the Horse. 25 
Do. Pests of the 1 Arm.... A 
Do DomeelJc Fowls. 25 
Do. on the Hog.. 25 
Do. on the Honey Bee .. 25 
Do. on the Dog. 25 
Keeumhn's Vlne-dre.-sera 
Manual. 50 
Shepherd's Own Bn. k.2dJ 
Stray Leaves from the Bonk 
of Nature. »•« 
Stephens' Book ofthe 1mm 
2 vuls. 4 'W 
Skillful Housewife . ^ 
Skinner s Elements of At- 
riculture. J 
Smith's Landscape Gar- 
deniug.. 1 •" 
Timer's Principles of A*re 
culture... • ^ 
Thomas' Farm ImplemtuGl tW 
Thompson’s Food of Aoo .. 
Tlie RoseCultunst. w 
Topham's Cbeiuietrt **-♦ ^ 
Turner's Cotton Pi..- :ers 
Manual. 
Wurder 8 Hedge s an•-! 1 p ^ 
Waringte" Element* "o ' 1 "**■ ,, 
riculture.* ., s 
Weeks on Bees. 
Wilson on Flax. 5 
V..miti& Martin nnCiU. e j 
*. 75 
Vvuatt on the Horse. 
Do. ud Sheep. 
Do. on the flog. 
OUVUVAi,....--- — .. - ■ * ' . , wr 
t'-p- Any of the above named works will be forwards 1 
mail, post-paid, cm receipt of the price specifled. 
Address I>. I*. T. IHMtKK, Rochester, N- » 
HOOKE'S BURAL NEW-l’OKKEK, 
TUK LARGEST CIRCULATED 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY WELKL1, 
IS PUBLISHED EVKRY SATURDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. T 
Terms in Advance: 
Subscription - Two Dollars a YtUl*. 
Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, tor $5, - • 
free to club agent, for * 10 ; Ten, and one free, ^ 
and one Tree, for *21; Twenty, and one fiev. jlb I 
greater nuiutier at same rate —only t -1 25 I "' " p - ‘ q u (, I 
extra free copy for every Ten Subscribe- Uiiflereut I 
papers directed to Individuals and ‘^ ll 1 *“ L, stave on I 
Post-Offices as desired As we pre-pay Amen«n '' ' sa d I 
papers sent to the British Provinces, our Lanai f I 
friends must add mi cents per copy to the cloh ^ j9 I 
Rural. The lowest price of copies sent 
