^.buertiscmmtg 
Reuben was too deeply affected by this sodden 
ooteosh of a mother’s grief to speak a single word 
of comfort, and hi9 own heart was too deeply 
wounded. For a few moments the three sat side by 
side in sorrowful silence; then the old man rose op, 
and taking down the family Bible, opened it and 
readCome nnto me all ye that are heavily laden, 
and I will give you rest.” 
Free, ions, life-giving words. We read them night 
end morning, and bear them Sabbath after Sabbath 
from the sacred desk, yet neither know their meaning 
nor their true consolation, until some great calamity 
sweeps away every earthly prop and stay, and we 
’Lisbetd, her face all aglow with anxious expecta¬ 
tion. Faith flitted hither and thither, shaking out 
the folds of a aortain, or re arranging a branch of 
evergreen, looking quite pretty in her new merino, 
the neck and sleeves edged with a fringe of misty 
lace, and her anborn curls streaming over her 
shoulders like waves of sunshine. It might have 
been a conscicosnessof her own fresh loveliness that 
brought the roue flush to her cheeks, and made her 
pause once in a while before the little oval mirror, to 
herself that Simeon's gold eba n was all l ight, 
to her then. She was nothing but a child, and he 
had no home, no inducement—nothing but his 
strong hands and brave young heart to offer her. 
Yet how could he leave her, how could he go away, 
without some slight assurance that he could not be 
quite forgotten. His love was great and etrong, and 
entwined Itself about its object with an unyielding 
clasp that could not he torn away without almost 
uprooting life itself; he knew and felt, and trembled 
at the bare possibility of being forgotten. 
<< Faith,” he said at last, making an effort to steady 
his voice, “do you know that I am sorrier to leave 
BT FRANK B. WILLIAMS. 
QLMSTED’8_NE\V WORK. 
WE PUBLISH TO-DAY: 
Tlio Cotton Kinsdom., 
A TRAVELER’S OBSERVATION ox COTTON aso SLAVERY 
IN THE AMERICAN SLAVE STATES Based upon three 
former volumes of .Tourneys and Investigations by the same 
author By FREDERICK LAW OLMSTED Two Volumes, 
12 ttio, with colored statistical map of tbs Cotton Kingdom 
and Its Dependencies. Price $ 2 . 
(Tub following beautiful lines were written by a private In 
Company G., of Stuart’s Engineer regiment, now at Caicp 
Lesley, near Washington. In explanation of one of the 
verses of the poem, it is right to state that whit* rags are 
frequently scattered along the sentinel’s poet on a dark night 
to mark hie beat:] 
Alas! the weary hours page flow, 
The night is very dark and still, 
And in the niarebeg far below 
I hear the bearded whip poor-will; 
I scarce can see a yard ahead, 
My ears are stiatned to catch each soand 
1 hear the leaves about me shed, 
And the springs bubbling through the ground. 
Along the beaten path 1 pace, 
Where white rags mark toy sentry’s track; 
In formless shrubs I seem to trace 
The foeman’s form, with bending hack; 
I think 1 see him crouching low— 
I stop and lir-t—I rtoop and peer, 
Until the neighboring hillocks grow 
To groups of soldiers, far and near. 
With ready piece I wait and watch,- 
Until my eyes, familiar grown, 
Detect each harmless earthen notch, 
And turn guerillas into stone; 
And then amid the lonely gloom, 
Beneath the tall old chestnut trees, 
My silent marches 1 resume, 
And think of other times than these. 
•> Haiti Who goes there?” my challenge cry, 
It rings along the watchful line; 
•* Relief!” I hear a voice reply— 
“ Advance and give the countersign." 
With bayonet at tiro charge 1 wait— 
The corporal gives the mystic spell; 
With arms aport I charge my mate, 
Then onward pass and all U well. 
But in the tent that night awoke, 
I ask, if in the fray 1 fall, 
Can I the mystic answer make 
When the angelic Bentries call? 
And pray that Heaven may so ordain, 
Where’er 1 go, what fate be mine, 
Whether in pleasure or in pain, 
I still may have the countersign. 
Rochester Democrat. 
»in» it* I'pppTmvnuH**. , . - 
TB1B publication wr *a railed for bT wvenil eminent organs cx 
public opinion in England, as well by private advice to the au¬ 
thor immediately on the outbreak of the slaveholders rebel¬ 
lion. It bring* into unbroken connection, with suitable expla¬ 
nation and extension, the author's observations upon the rela¬ 
tions r.f the cotton demand, and of the employment, of slaves 
to the rebe llion, with special reference to the correction of cer¬ 
tain pre valent errr.Tt or public opinio* As a carefully rttjdiep 
picture of the condition nt the people of the .south lmmedi- 
atelv preceding the rebellion, it already priwotses un histone 
value similar to that of the travels of Arthur Young shortly 
before the outbreak of the French Revolution. 
The publisher- believe that, the Como.S Kixr.n.'.u affords at 
on*'*? tne ino**t tot 4 T£&tffngr Mid actor? popular account at- 
of the resources no*l cor.riit.ion of the 8 uatb^rn 8 Ut«i{ 
their ayriculture and comiTiHrce; The workings of their instita- 
tionft; ttw chamcterieticsv tnnanora arid customs of their peo¬ 
ple, and their social and political view* end feelings. Asa 
graphic and Attractive writer Mr Olrmdead has few equals, 
while the accuracy c»t his oh-errations and impartiality of lua 
statement* are unquestioned. . 
The present work abounds in Anecdote and incidents oi travel, 
and will interest all classes of readers. 
assure 
with the cla*|< just in front. It might have been 
something els* . lie that as it may. F aith was not to 
blame, for that which we often term maiden vanity 
deserves a far holier name. Two o’clock passed, and 
atlaBttheold corner clock Btrnck three; still they 
had not come. 
****** 
“ What conld detain ’em so long?" said ’Lisbeth, 
giving the fire a vigorous stir, and moving Reuben’s 
coat and slippers a little nearer. “ The dinner’ll all 
he spiled, and they’ll have an awful ride. The snow’s 
beginnin’ to fall now. an’ it’ll be a dreadful storm, I 
know by the sound of the wind; it roared jnst that 
way, kind o’ mournful like, before the great snow¬ 
storm, when the hen-roof fell in and smashed all my 
noor chickens. Dear me! how fast it falls. I do 
“ Are you, Simeon/” she asked innocently, upint- 
ing her trustful eyes to his face. 
“Yes, I am, Faith, and I want to know if you’ll 
quite forget me when I’m gone away?” 
« Why, bow could I, Simeon, when you’ve been so 
good and kind to me?—no, indeed, I never Bltall 
forget yon I” 
“And will you be glad to see me when I come 
back, Faith?” 
“ Why, to he sure, Simeon— what makes yon ask?” 
“Because I want to kDow — yon’re sure you’ll be 
glad ?” 
“Very sure, Simeon.” 
“ Very .veil, I shall be back in a year or bo, and 
shall expect you to keep your promise.” 
“I shall keep it —and you’ve given me so many 
little things, that I want to give yon something, and 
it’s my little Bible — T want 
the freezing drifts, and pauses on the step with a 
quick, determined sound. And now there is a rap, 
short, sudden and eager. Reuben rises. Tt is some 
of tbe neighbors with tidings of the lost steamer 
news that the body of his boy has been found, per¬ 
haps. He opens the door; the wind sweeps in, 
bringing with it a cutting shower of sleet and also a 
happv, hopeful face. 
“now are you, father?” 
The resonant voice rings through the silent dome 
Jike a peal of Hudden joy. The old father hears it, 
and falls in bis son’s embrace; the poor mother hears 
it, and rushes forward, half frantic with delight: 
Faitij hears it in the solitude of her little chamber, 
and hastens out, her sweet face alternating between 
smiles and tears. 
“0, Simeon!— 0, mv boy!—they told me yon waa 
dead, drowned, lost in the river; they wanted to 
break your old mother’s heart, but you wouldn’t let 
’em; you’ve come back, Simeon, oever to leave me 
“ Never to leave you again, mother—G od willing.” 
He held her to his bosom for a moment, and then 
went round to where Faith stood. 
“Now, father and mother,” he said, his voice 
vibrating with emotion as he took the young girl’s 
hand, “ let me tell yon of my deliverance—for deliv¬ 
erance it was—from the very jaws of death. It was 
I’ve nothing but thia 
you to take it, Simeon, and think of me when you 
read it” 
“Good bye, F aitfi; take care of yourself, and of 
mother.” 
His strong hand trembled as he nufolded the little 
package. It was a pretty, delicate thing, daintily 
bound in morocoo, with a silver clasp, inscribed with 
the simple word, “ Faith.” His eyes filled with tears 
as he looked at it 
“I don’t know how to thank you for thia, Faith; 
why, it almost seems like carrying you with me, 
since it’s got your riame on it I’ll read it every day, 
and always keep it here, Faith,” he said, dropping 
it into his breast pocket, and buttoning up his coat, 
as if he wanted it close to his heart 
By thia time they had reached the gate —the old 
red gate upon which they had swung together a 
thousand times in their happy childhood. 
“I must go back, now, Simeon,” said Faith, strug¬ 
gling hard to keep back her tears, “ aunt ’Lisbeth 
will want me to help about the milking.” 
He tore his band from her lingering clasp, threw 
his knapsack across his shoulders, the old red gate 
closed with a ringing clang, and Faith turned tear¬ 
fully homeward. 
* ***** 
A chill November wind tossed and whirled the dry 
elm leaves on the common in front of Reuben 
Brown’s cottage, and blew the thin gray locks about 
his forehead, as he stood in the yard, harnessing up 
tbe old-fashioned, bonnet-topped buggy. 
“Hadn’tyou better have your yarn mittins, Reu¬ 
ben?” called his wife from the doorway, “the air’s 
bitin’ cold, an’ we’ll have snow before night; I can 
tell by tbe way the wind blows.” 
“Maybe 1 had, wife,” he replied, gathering up the 
reins and mounting the cracking seat. 
“Run, Faith, and get Reuben’s yarn mittins, 
they’re under the lounge in the hack room — hurry, 
child I” *■ 
out, her pretty curls blown about her 
GILMAN’S SHOE STORE, 
Ko. tt STATE STREET. 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
gUBBAED & NORTHROP, 
Are now offering:, at their 
povvljm sjii.es noo.n, 
Nos. 69 & 71 Main St., Marble Buildings, 
ROOHKBTKR, 1ST. Y., 
chair, with clasped hands and streaming eyes, “I 
will say, with your permission, that which iny heart 
has long felt. I have succeeded in my efforts even 
beyond my most ardent expectations. In the fur 
West a comfortable home awaits ns, surrounded by 
fertile acres sufficient to yield us all wc need. I love 
you. Faith; I have always loved you, ever since 
that night when mother brought yon home to be my 
little sister. Be more than sister now—be my wife, 
Faith.” 
The auburn head went down upon his shoulder 
like a flash of suulight. ‘ListsETn stood in silence, 
nnable to comprehend the scene; but after awhile 
the happy truth burst upon her, and she clasped her 
arms about them with a joyful cry: “My own 
precious children; and w(j shall all live together, 
and never part again—shan't we, Simeon ?” 
“Never part again, mother, until death parts us,” 
said the young man, solemnly. 
“Get his new slippers, Faith,” cried the happy 
mother, laughing ami crying by turns; "they’ll be 
all tbe more acceptable now. Think a heap of em, 
Eimkon— she most worked her eyes out oyer 'em.” 
Bimeon put on the velvet slippers, and sat down in 
the old place. ... T ,. 
“Now, Faith, run for the gravy, while I stir tip 
the fire; we’ll have our Thanksgiving dinner after 
ail,” 
“Thanksgiving breakfast, I should say, mother,” 
laughed Simeon. 
“Well, it'll do jnst as well—we’ve seen a great 
many in our day, but this’ll be the happiest one of 
all, won’t It, Reuben?” 
“The happiest one of all, ’Lisbeth,” said the old 
man, smiling through bis tears, “for God, in His 
mercy, has changed our sorrow into the song of re- 
ioicing. Blessed be His name forever' ” , 
THE THANKSGIVING DINNER 
BY EMMA (1AKKIH0N 
Simeon Brown stood in the doorway of his father’s 
kitchen in the early dawn of a fair May morning, his 
face Bhorn of its wonted joyousness, like an autumnal 
forest when the leaves have gone down behind the 
bleak, gray hills. “I’ve got to go, mother,” he said 
at last, addressing a middle-aged woman, who stood 
folding a small parcel before the cleanly scoured 
dresser, “and I may as well go at once —come, do 
say good bye.” 
“Yes, you’ve got to go, an’ it’ll break your old 
mother's heart, Simeon, an’ bring down her gray 
hairs in sorrow to the grave,” she answered, in a 
petulant, grieving tone, as she put down tbe parcel 
and came and stood beside him. 
“No, mother, no —don’t talk so,” be said sooth¬ 
ingly, “you know I’m obliged to go — it’ll be the 
Notwithstanding the general «taguatJno in almost every de¬ 
partment of buslnes* during thel^t few moriltis.itiswith 
much uitisfaelioti that we are sMo to record the tact that on? 
efforts to maintain car former amount of business have been 
entirely successful, and in some departments- the sales have in¬ 
creased over those of any previous year. 
EVERY DEPARTMENT CONTAINS RAROA1NS I 
Which «r«h..uia he Why to exhibit, confidently believing 
that they would he appreciated tiy the moat economical par- 
chaser. We arc also extensive manufacturers of 
LADIES’ CLOTH GARMENTS. 
Every desirable grade of Cloth and Beaver CLOAKS, of the 
moat approved anti Fashionable Styles, are now offered by M 
in great variety. We are also prepared to 
Faith ran 
face, and climbing on the wheel, held the reins until 
the old man drew the mittens on. 
“Hurry back, Reuben,” called ’Lisbeth, “I 
don’t want my Thanksgiving dinner to spile with 
waitin’.” 
“Aye, aye, wife!” 
Old Dobbin pricked up his ears, and started for¬ 
ward; the old-fashioned buggy went creaking down 
the lane, and was soon lost to sight by the swaying 
elm boughs. 
“Now, Faith,” said ’Lisbeth, tucking up her 
sleeves, and tying on her ample lines apron, “ if 
ever we was spry in our lives, let’s be this morning. 
They’ll be home at two o’clock, and it’s most ten 
now; an’ there’s the beef to roast, an' the turkey, an’ 
the mince pie to bake —ftu’ goodness me, I wonder 
if the bread’s riz; yes, indeed, just as light as a 
feather. It’s just the nicest thing in the world for 
Sjmron to get home ou Thanksgivin’ day, ain’t it 
Faith?” 
Faith said "Yes, ma’m,” very quietly; and the 
happy woman went on. 
“ Poor Simmik, it’s been many a day since his old 
mother cooked a dinner for him—an’ he always liked 
my cookin’. ‘Mother,’he used to say, ‘ I never saw 
any one cook things as nice as you do.’ How lucky it 
was, Faith, that you made that raisin cake yester¬ 
day. He always liked it. I remember when he was 
7 most a baby. I can see him now, with his curls all a ( 
dancin' around his resy face. He used to catch hold 
0’ my dreBS. an’ say, * Mother, won’t you have raisin 
cake Thanksgivin’ day.’ Bless his dear heart!—the 
best hoy that ever lived 1 Never give his mother a 
cross word, or caused her a moment’s trouble in his 
life! I know he’ll enjoy his dinner. Chop up them 
apples, Faith, an’ we’ll have the pies on in no 
time.” 
Faith did as she was hidden, tripping round with 
a deft and quiet handiness that made her sweet face 
all the more attractive; and by 12 o’clock the huge 
turkey and great round of beef were nicely brown 
ing, and tbe mince pies and tbe mammoth loaf of 
bread were fairly done. 
“Gettio’ on finely, Faith,” said ’Lisbeth. stirring 
and seasoning a bowl of gravy. “ We shall have din¬ 
ner in good time. You may set the table, and then 
go and dress yourself. What’ll you wear? Your 
new merino frock, won’t you?” 
“I don't know, ma’ro,” said Faith, blushing and 
averting her face. 
“I would if I was you. It’s the prettiest dress 
you’ve got, an’ Simeon always liked to see us dressed 
well. 1 shall put on my brown muslin that Reuben 
bought when he went down to sell hiswheat last fall, 
| and that dove-silk shawl tbe deacon’s wife gave me, 
an’ my new cap that Miss Stebbs made. An’ you 
’ wear your blue merino, Faith, and the gold chain 
, that Simeon gave you; 1 know it’ll please him. 
“ Here they come, Faith! here they come!” cried 
’Lisbeth, springing down the steps. “Stir tbe fire, 
and let’s run down to meet 'em. Poor Simeon, I 
know he Is nearly froze!” 
Faith sprang up, and in her excited haste over¬ 
turned her work basket, Bending its contents in pro- 
misouotis flight over the smoothly waxed floor, burned 
her fingers with the poker, came wellnigh scorching 
her new merino dress, and at last, flushed and tremu¬ 
lous, ran out to join ’Lisbeth. The old buggy came 
on with a slow, uncertain motion, and after several 
tedious moments, paused at the little gate. ’Lihbkth 
pressed forward, closely followed by Faith; but no 
other face looked out to welcome them. 
“ Where’s Simeon —where’s my boy ?” cried the 
fond mother. “ 0, Faith, he has not come! Reu¬ 
ben, where’s Simeon?” 
But Reuben did not answer, or even make the 
slightest movement. With his face white and stony, 
his hands dangling helplessly beside him, he sat in 
the remotest corner, staring out upon them with a 
vacaut, unmeaning Btare. 
"Reuben, what’s the matter?” almost screamed 
the frantic woman. “ Are you sick—dead —frozen? 
Oh, for heaven’s sake, speak to me!” 
Slowly and almost mechanically he arose from his 
seat, and clambered out with feeble, tottering steps. 
“Reuben, Reuben — speak to me!” continued 
si tcnirTTi (Tfftsnintr his arm fiercely. “Where’s 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 30 letters. 
My 12, 28, 18, 21, 3 is a wild animal, native of Asia. 
My 30, 27,10, 2 is a place of fond endearments. 
My 11,16, 28,14, 30 is what we should admire. 
My 10, 24, 29 is a poor specimen of humanity. 
My 1, 6 . ?, 14 is a detriment to fine cloths. 
My 13, 20, 4,1 is a title of nobility. 
My 25, 6 , 8 is a \ropical fruit. 
My 17, 4, 9, 22, 15 is a general in the rebel army. 
My 11, 23, 5, 29,10 are much used at the present time 
My whole is a truthful saying. 
Perrynburg. Ohio, 1861. 
Answer in two weeks. 
GILMAN'S SHOE STORE, 
No. 8 STATE STREET. 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
My first denotes a brilliant place, 
Where belles and jewels thine; 
My next transports the merchant's stores, 
Or produce of the mine, 
Sweet pleasures in my whole abound 
Apart from worldly strife, 
By nymphs and swains I'm always found 
The happiest part of life. 
Answer in two weeks. 
^ , id14.-Any desired 
iUH about PRICKS OF ADVERTISING, and of 
arnisbed iiRAiiS . . v , 
BOWERY KM, Commission Agent, New X oi* 
\TEW ENTERPRISES 
IN information about I-----—- — 
PRINTING, furnished GRATIS 
A C~!TTI£T0. — Du. N. BABCOCK*3 
-- and RcuoicAL Oracle and great Canohk Km- 
No, H92 Chapel St., New Hayen^Oonn. 
Dr. H ah Price would inform all peruoris 
~ ' iy description, that by 
^ . , furnished with a cirCU- 
la3r*of”iue rnritlh of treatment, flee of charge. irnriand 
Dr. Babcock la the original Cancer £li 
and the only one who remove* Cancers without pain, ah 
X rTare but imitator*, induced bv his success to P*ofeM 
themselves Cancer Doctor*. Plenty at references to those who 
have been cuiw-d can b€> at my . 
White Swellings. Hip Diseases, ffi rth Marks, Thro^u ofcerie 
Malignant Ulcers. Diseases ot the Mouth and Throat. Uicene 
tion of the Bones, Tetter. Scald Head, and nil Diseases ul tne 
Skin, permanently cured. 
Orders from abroad promptly atte n j^‘* BIBCOCK, 
608-lUt NO. 392Chapel St. New Haven, Co am_ 
A u WAPiTPD to SELL FRUIT YRFFSb 
Wb wish to employ a number ot experienced and tr^j 
worthy men to sell Dees, &c.. from our Nureenes at liberal 
W ^H 0 LK 9 ALS DiiAt-KBS furnished with Nursery. Stock 
descriptions at the PARLEY & CO.. ,, Y 
B84tf Rochester Whotes&l 0 Nurtertea, Rochester, r* * • 
\J Mkdicai. 
Tumor* or ail description* removed without, rf 
the use of the hint*. Dr. r-.- M 
afflicted with Cancers or Tumors of an. 
addreBsiU't letter to bltn, they will M 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
SURVEYING QUESTION. 
V./UCCIU, kuftl AVftV T . . J 
took fire on the passage. Although prompt and 
vigorous efforts were made to rescue the passengers, 
owing to the suddenness of the catastrophe only two 
were saved.” 
“Simeon was one of them — he was one of the 
two,” she said, her face blanching and her lips 
growing rigid. 
“No, no—I’ve seen ’em—seen ’em both. He’ll 
never come home any more!” 
“ What is it?” cried ’Lisbeth, still unconscious of 
the dreadful truth, her voice dropping down to a 
tone of piteous entreaty; “where's Simeon— where’s 
my boy? Tell me he’s not dead, ana 1 can bear any¬ 
thing else.” , „ , 
Reuben did not answer, but the tears rolled over 
his wrinkled face, and it was enough. 
****** 
The storm swelled higher and higher, and towards 
midnight raged around the little New England cot¬ 
tage with appalling fury. Tbe hickory fire had 
burned down to a lew flickering embers, which threw 
a fitful glow over the Thanksgiving table and over 
the bowed headB of three disconsolate mourners as 
they sat there in their terrible desolation. This was 
their Thanksgiving day, begun in hope and joyous 
anticipation, but ended in very blackness and utter 
dt “ P Oh?I can’t stand it,” eobbed ’Lisbeth; “I can’t, 
I can't. It’s cruel—wicked—wrong. He was all I 
had—my only child—my darlin’, precious boy, that 
never gave his old mother a cross word, or caused 
her a moment's trouble in his life; my baby, that 
used to sleep in my bosom, and lay bis bead againBt 
my cheek; an’ now he’s in the river—in the cold, 
black water. We’re here, living, thinking, breath¬ 
ing, by the warm fire. Oh, I can’t stand it—I can t. 
Ths bane of a triangle is three hundred and twenty-one 
rods, the perpendicular two hundred and sixteen rods. De¬ 
termine the side of the inscribed square. 
Gonverneur, St. Law. Co., N. Y. Edwin A. Dodds. 
53^” Answer in two weeks. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THS LARCIKST CIRCULATED 
agricultural, literary and family weekly, 
IS PUBLISHED KVKRT SATURDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, K. Y. 
Terms in Advance: 
Subscription-Tvo Dollars a Trail To Gate and 
Agents as follows:—Three Copies one year, for $3 £ 
free to club agent, for $10; Ten, and one hee for JU. * Ute*. 
and one free, for $21; Twenty, and one free, lot and auy 
greater number at same rate-only $1-45 per ^' p J’ n b 
extra free copy for every Ten Subscribers over’Iw. u ty C^b 
papers .directed to individuals and sent to aa many different 
Post-Offices as desired. As we pre-pay American p> 6 - 
papers sent to the British Provinces, our Canadian agentt^and 
Mends must add 12* cents per copy to the club rates of tbe 
Rttral. The lowest price of copies sent to Europe. &c . is 
