THE SENTRY. 
TROM TUB GKKICASf OB LOTUS. 
Thxy’rb gone—the watch fire* they hare *et 
Glow round the mountain passes yet; 
Out through the darkness of the night 
They flash a silent, flickering light. 
They shine on victory a distant track, 
Whence none, elasl for me comes back; 
They let me bleed to death, to night, 
True sentry, on the field of fight! 
Hushed is the tnmnlt of the fray, 
The powder smoke is blown away; 
Faint, broken shouts fall on my ear; 
My comrades all are far from here. 
Yet, though my comrades ail are far, 
There gleams full many a golden star, 
And angel bands light up, on high, 
The eternal watch firM of the sky. 
On, comrade* brave, to victory! 
Farewell, y<> banners, high and free! . 
1 can no longer be with yon; 
Another camp I* near in vlewl 
White banners, in the moonlight spread, 
Float through the heavenR above my head, 
Slow sinking now I see them wave 
And flutter o’er a soldier's grave. 
0 , loved ooe, ’tis the thought of thee 
Alone weighs down this heart in me; 
Yet weep not, love, be this the pride, 
That bravely at my post I diedl 
The Lord of Hosts, unseen, oo high 
1 /oads out of the armies of the sky; 
Soon shall He call my name out clear, 
And I, true sentry, answer; Here! 
flue JFtMg-StUiv. 
OUT OF WORK. 
BY SYLVANUS COBB, JR. 
“It ia of no use, Maria, I’ve tried everywhere.” 
“ But you are not going to give up, Peter?” 
“ Give up? How can I help it? Within four daya 
I have been to every book bindery in the city, and 
not a bit of work can I get.” 
“ But have you tried anything else?” 
“What else can I try?” 
“Why, anythiug that you can do.” 
“Yea, I’ve tried other things. I have been to 
more than a dozen of my friends, and offered to 
help them if they would hire me.” 
“ And what did you mean to do for them?” 
“I offered to post their accounts, make out bills, 
or attend to the counter.” 
Mrs. Stan wood smiled aa her husband thus spoke. 
“What makes you smile?” be asked. 
“To think that you should imagine that you would 
find work in such a place. But how is Mark Leeds?” 
“ He ia worse off than I am.” 
“How so?” 
“He has nothing in the house to eat.” 
A shudder crept over Ilia wife's frame now. 
“Why do you tremble, wife?” 
“ Because when we shall have eaten onr breakfast 
te-merrow morning, we shall have nothing.” 
“What!” cried Peter Staawood, half starting from 
his chair. “ Po you moan that?” 
“I do.” 
“ But our flour.” 
“ All gone. I baked the last this afternoon.” 
“But we have pork.” 
“You ate the last this noon.” 
“ Then we must starve!” groaned the stricken man, 
starting across the room. 
Peter Stunwood was a book-binder by trade, and 
had now been out of employment over a month. 
He was one of those who generally calculated to 
keep about square with the world, and who consider 
themselves fortunate if they keep out of debt. He 
was now thirty years of age, and had three children 
to provide for, besides bimsclf and wife, and this, 
together with the bouse rent, was a heavy draught 
upon hia purse even when work was plenty, hut now 
there was uothiug. 
“Maria,” aaid he, gazing his wife in the face, "we 
must starve. I. have not a single penny in the world.” 
“But do not despair, Peter. Try again to morrow 
for work. You may find something to do. Any¬ 
thing that is honest is honorable. Should you make 
but a shilling a day, we should not starve.” 
“ But onr house rent?” 
“Trust me for that. The landlord shall not turn 
us out. If you will engage to find something to do, 
I will see that we have our house room.” 
“I’ll make one more trial,” uttered Peter, despair¬ 
ingly. 
“ But you mu6t go prepared to do anything.” 
“Anything reasonable, Maria.” 
“What do yon call reasonable?” 
“ Why—anything decent,” 
The wife felt inclined to smile, but the matter was 
too serious for that, and a cloud passed over her 
face. She knew her husband's disposition, and sho 
felt sure ho would find no work. She knew that he 
would look for some kind of work which would not 
lower him in the social scale, as lie had once or 
twice expressed it. However, she knew it would be 
of no nse to speak to him now, and she let the matter 
pass. 
On the following morning, the last bit of food was 
put on the table. Stanwood could hardly realize 
that he was penniless and without food. For years 
he had been gay, thoughtless and fortunate, making 
the most of tke present, forgetting the past, and 
leaving the future to take care of itself. Yet the 
truth was naked and clear; and when he left the 
house he said “ something must be done.” 
No sooner had her husband gone than Mrs. Stan¬ 
wood put on her bonnet and shawl. Her eldest child 
was a girl seven years old, and her youngest four. 
She asked her next door neighbor if she would take 
care of her children until noon. These children 
were known to be good and quiet, and they were 
taken cheerfully. Then Mrs. Stanwood locked up 
her house and went away. She returned at no'^n, 
bringing her children some dinuc-r, and then went 
away again. She came home in the evening before 
her husband, carrying a heavy basket upon her arms. 
“Well, Peter,” she asked, after her husband had 
entered and sat down, “what luck?” 
“Nothing! nothing!” he groaned, “i have made 
out to get a dinner from an old chum, but I could 
find no work.” 
“And where have you looked to-day?” 
“Oh — everywhere. I have been to a hundred 
places, bnt it is the same in every place. It’s nothing 
bnt one eternal ‘no—no” I'm sick and tired of it. 
I even went so far as to offer to tend a liquor Etore 
down town.” 
The wife smiled. 
“Now, what shall we do?” uttered Peter, spas¬ 
modically. 
“Why, we will eat supper first, and then talk the 
matter over.” 
“Supper! Have yon got any?” 
“Yes—plenty of it.” 
“ But how—where—what?” 
“ Why, first if went to Mrs. Snow’s. I knew her 
girl was sick, and I hoped she might have work to 
be done. I went to her and told her my story, and 
she set me to work at once doing her washing. She 
gave me food to bring home to my children, and 
paid me three shillings when I got through.” 
“What—you been out washing for onr butcher’s 
wife?” said Peter, looking very much surprised. 
“Of course I have, and have thereby earned 
enough to keep us in food through to morrow, at 
any rate ; so to-morrow you can come home to 
dinner.” 
“But how abont. the rent?” 
“Ob, I have seen Mr. Situson, told him just how 
we are situated, and offered him my watch as a 
pledge for the payment of the rent within three 
months, with the interest on the arrearages up to 
that date. I told him 1 did the business, you were 
away hunting up work.” 
“ So he’s got your gold watch?” 
“ No —he wouldn’t take it. He said if I would 
become responsible for the payment, he would let it 
rest” 
“Then we’ve got a roof to cover us and food for 
to-morrow. Bnt what next? What a curse these 
hard times are.” 
“Don’t despair, Peter, for we shall not Btarve. 
I’ve got enough work engaged to keep us alive.” 
“ Ah—what is that?” 
“ Why, Mr. Snow engaged me to carry small pack¬ 
ages, baskets, bundles, and so forth, to his rich cus¬ 
tomers. Ho has had to give up one of his horses.” 
“ What do yon mean, Maria?” 
“Just what I say. When Mr. Bnow came to his 
dinner, I was there, and asked him if he ever had 
light articles which lie wished to send around to cus¬ 
tomers. Never mind all that was said. He did 
happen to want just such work done, though he 
meant to call upon the idlers who lounged about the 
market He promised to give me all the work he 
could, and I am to be there in good Beason in the 
morning.” 
“Well, this is a pretty go. My wife turned 
butcher’s boy! You will not do any sucb thing.” 
“And why not?” 
“ Because—because—” 
“ Say, because it will lower me in the social scale?” 
“ Well, so it will.” 
“ Then it is more honorable to lay still and starve, 
and see one’s children starve, too, than to earn honest 
bread by honest work. T tell you, Peter, if yon can¬ 
not find work, I must. We Bhould have been with¬ 
out bread to-night had 1 not found work to-day. 
Yon know that all kinds of light, agreeable business 
are seized upon by those who have particular friends 
engaged in them. At such times as this, it is not for 
us to consider what kind of work will do, so long 
as it ia honest. Oh, give me the libcity of my own 
deserts, and the independence to ho governed by my 
own convictions of right.” 
“But, my wife —only think—you carrying out 
butcher’s stuff. Why, I would sooner go and do it 
myself.” 
“If you will go,” said the wife, with a smile, “I 
will stay at home and take care of the children.” 
It was hard for Peter Sion wood, but the more be 
thought upon the matter, the more he saw the justice 
and right of the path int i which bis wife thus led 
him. Before he went to bed be promised he would 
go to the butcher’s in the morning. 
And Peter Stanwood went upon his new business. 
Mr. Snow greeted him warmly, praised his faithful 
wife, and sent him off with two baskets, one to a 
Mrs. Smith's and one to a Mrs. Dixall’s. And the 
new carrier worked all day, and when night came lie 
had earned ninety-seven cents. It bad been a day of 
trials, but no one sneered at him, and alibis acquaint¬ 
ances whom he met groeted him the same as usual. 
He was far happier now than he was when at home 
the night, before, for now he was independent. On 
the next day he earned over a dollar; and thus he 
continued to work for a week, at the end of which 
time he had five dollars and peventy-five cents in his 
pocket, besides having paid for all the food for his 
family, save some pieces of meat which Mr. Snow 
had given him. Saturday evening he met Mark 
Leeds, another hinder, who was discharged from 
work with himself. Leeds looked careworn and 
rusty. 
“ How goes it?” asked Peter. 
“Don’t ask me,” groaned Mark. “My family are 
half starved.” 
“But can’t you find anything to do?” 
“ Nothing.” 
“Have you tried?” 
“ Everywhere; but it’s no use. However, M. 
offered me a job outside of our trade.” 
“What was it?” 
“Why he offered to let me do his hand carting! 
He has just turned off his nigger for drunkenness, 
and offered me the place 1 The old curmudgeon. 
By the powers. I had a great mind to pitch him into 
the hand cart and run to the-.” 
Mark mentioned the name of an individual who is 
supposed to dwell somewhere in a warmer region, 
Bomewhat warmer than onr tropics. 
“Well,” said Peter, “if 1 had been in your place 
I should have taken np with the oiler.” 
“ Why,” resumed Peter, “I have been doing the 
work of a butcher’s boy for a whole week.” 
Mark was incredulous, hat his companion convinced 
him, and they separated, one going home happy 
and contented, and the other going away from home 
to find some sort of excitement in which to drown 
his own misery. 
One day Peter had a basket of provisions to carry 
to Mr. M. It was his former employer, and just as 
ho was entering the yard of his customer, he met 
him coming out. 
“Ah, Stanwood, is this you?” asked his old em¬ 
ployer, kindly. 
“ Yes, sir.” 
“ What are you up to now ?” 
“I’m a butcher’s hoy, sir.” 
“ A what ?” 
“You see I’ve brought your provisions for you, 
sir. I'm a regular butcher’s hoy.” 
“ And how long have you been at work thus ?” 
“ This is the tenth day.” 
“ But don’t it come hard ?” 
“ Nothing is hard so long as it is honest, and will 
furnish my family bread.” 
“ And how much can you earn in a day at this ?” 
“ Sometimes over a dollar, and sometimes not over 
fifty cents.” 
“ Well, look here, Stanwood, there has been no 
less than a dozen of my old hands hanging aronud 
my counting room for a fortnight, whining for work, 
j They are stout, able men, and yet they lie fltill be- 
I cause I have no work for them. Last Satnrday I 
took pity on Leeds and offered him the job of doing 
my hand-carting. I told him I would give him a 
dollar and a quarter a day, but he turned up hie nose 
and asked me not to insult him. And yet he owned 
that his family waB suffering. Bnt yon come to my 
place to-morrow morning and you shall have some¬ 
thing to do, if it is only to hold your bench. I honor 
you for your manly independence.” 
Peter grasped the old man’s hand with a joyons, 
grateful grip, and blessed him fervently. That night 
he gave Mr. Snow notice that he must quit, and on 
the following morning he went to the bindery. For 
two days he had little to do, hut on the third day a 
heavy job came in, and Peter Stanwood had steady 
work. He was happy—more happy than ever, for 
he had learned two things ; first, what a noble wife 
he had ; and second, how much resource for good he 
held within his own energies. 
Our simple picture, has two points to its moral. 
One is—no man can be lowered by any kind of hon¬ 
est labor. The second -while you are enjoying the 
fruits of the present, forget not to provide for the 
future ; for no man is so secure but that the day may 
come when he will want the sqnanderings of the past. 
and Mr. Cameron, rode close up to the General, and 
we come the Frenchman at ’em, and when he saw me 
kinder fall back .to make room for them, says he, 
“ Col. Plow handle, you and the President will ride 
on my off side.” Didn’t the fellows round us stare. 
Mr. Cameron he kinder looked over his shoulder at 
me, hut didn’t see any car wheels, so he turned hia 
head short, and Mr. Seward he kinder stared at me 
and then at the horse, ss though he thought Vd got 
his Arabian horses. Bnt Mr. Lincoln he corned 
right up to me, and says he, holding out his hand, 
“Colonel, I’m glad to see you, for I used to have some 
good times with your relations.” Thinks I, I’ll give 
them Secretaries a dab now, so says I, “ if you had 
more plows and harrows round your garden, yon 
wouldn’t have any less honesty.” And I kinder 
looked round a little, and I seed Mr. Be ward give 
Mr. Camehoh a little punch, but as it wa’n’t my ribs, 
I didn’t care. 
Just then somebody says. “Ready—forward!” and 
away we started, Mr. Lincoln on the nigh side and I 
in the middle, and the General on the off, next the 
soldiers, lik-a-ty-switeh, full chissel. When we came 
np to a regiment it wonld have made you feel Hail 
Columbia to see ’em twitch their guns round and 
holler. Great Sampson, it was the greatest hollering 
MAJ. PLOWIIANDLE AT WASHINGTON, you ever did see. J thought we got up some pretty 
- good hollering down at the Corners, when we raised 
The Major at Che Review of the Army of the PoUmac-He the meeting house, and had town meeting, and beat 
is promoted — Meets the President and Cabinet Ojjicert — JoNEB, but It wa’n’t any more like tills than a bull- 
What he Saw, Thought and Pul. frog to a thunder storm. Well, we rode nigh open an 
Washington, U. S., Nov. 21,1861. hour before we got through, and then we came down 
Col. Moore:—I knowed you’d be glad to hear from where we started from, on a little knoll, and the 
me, bo I take my pen in hand to inform you that I General and I, and Mr. Lincoln, stood out in front, 
am well, and very busy, and hope these few lines and let the regiments march past us with their music 
will find you enjoying the same blessing. As soon and Hags. And after a good many regiments had 
as Gen. McClellan found I’d come, be sent one of <? tme ^y, flnd was P re ^y dry, Bays Mr. Lincoln, 
his hired men over to have me come to his office, and “ what do think of this, Colonel ?” 
so I went right over, and be was very glad to see me L “ President, it s the biggest general traln- 
— and says he, “Pm glad you’ve comedown just ing I ever saw.” “But, 1 says he, “there aint any 
now, for I'm going to have a review to-morrow, over sweet cider and molasses gingerbread here.” “Oh 
the river, and as a good many distinguished men arc Y ee >’’ 8a 5' a ** ’There just is plenty outside.” “ 'Well,” 
going with me, I want you along.” Bays I, “I "fly* he, “ we don’t want to Bee all the soldiers, so 
haint got old Niince here, and don’t know where to BB ®Up roun< ^ an< l 80me * * • c ’° we turned onr 
getahorse.” “Oh,” says he, “never mind that, I horses’heads and rode off to a wagon that had a barrel 
can find a horse, and all that for you, bo come in of sweet eider in it, and the fellow had some real slick 
good season.” molasses gingerbread. We rode up and got off our 
So you see the next morning I was up and got my hoMe8 J u8t >| ke an y , co “ I^ple, and I called for 
breakfast; but it was near upon 8 o’clock before I f bi « bl «f ? « fls8es 0 BWBe * cider and a card 
conk) get it, for everybody round hero don’t seem to of ^erbread, ™ before be got it ready Seward 
know that it’s daylight before 7 or 8 o’clock, which aod Camk * ov ca, " e team . K alo , nf < and an ° T tbt * 
is very had when a fellow’s in a hurry, vval, I got , ’ . , / 
over there as soon as T could, but the General was all 1 tod the cider man to put on three more 
up and ready, and in his own office, and just as full * UsBe8 atld anothcr bi & card ‘ " e waa 11,1 ^ 
of business as you ever see a bartender at town bo the sweet cider went qu.ck I to 1 you Beward 
meeting. It made my head swim to see him set P*t down h.s glitos first, and looked up kinder qu.s,- 
fellows going so fast, and he didn't seem to mind it cal to Lord Lions, and says he “Is there any diplo- 
,, ... . „„„ . T raacy in this cider, do von think ?” But before any 
at all, mor’n I would getting in corn. As Boon as I . J ’ * , » . , 
. , , ,, , . of us could answer, Mr. Lincoln nays, “Let’s have 
come In he saw me, and says he, “ good morning— , , „ ’ , .. . 
seen your horse?” “Not yet,” says I. So l,e just mother glass all round, and we can tell by morning.” 
touched a little hell and in popped a fellow, and And ™ baw-hawed well, I tell you. VVc all got our 
touched his hat, and he says to him to get this gen- 8econd « lass and knocked nmR l0 « atber a,ld drunk 
tie man’s horse for the review to-day, and see that it’s U P tbe , cide £ nnd M t r ‘ Ca>,kuun * ot onto hia bor8C 
a good one; and while he was tolling him, in pops and rode ofll ba ? H “ lbis fe,Iow alut from Penn ’ 
another fellow with regimentals on, hands him a pa- 8 y Iv4inia ‘ 1 f e88 ;” { ut the otbers were ^ t( * 
per and gets another from him, and before I could 1 ,lla <» treat - gentlemen,” and 1 
get out of the room with the hired man, another and « ave the man a 'l uarter ' a » d 6 ot ont ° Worses 
another done the same thing. As we went along and rode 00 t0 our P ln< CH- 
down stairs says I to the man, “ jreess you’r pretty Pfir a few ™ imitt>8 the coInran8 did not come alon f?- 
busy here.” “ •' b.” says lie, •• we keep a ticket office 80 tbc Gcncral turued10 and be ‘ “ ,Jow do 
up stain only J% i‘i my body pay for tbc uckem. 1iVp «'* lo,: ’ k8 of tbc *™. Colon£, l ?” Says I, 
And he took no along to the horses and led one out “ ° eDCra l 1 - H “ ,e are tip t0 I j; , nfcv0 ^ 
“all saddled and bridled, and fit for the fight,” as 8aw ,he loeraudd y 1{an ^ cr8 do bctt, ; r ’ tveQ , wben ? 
F Oli tli<- WINTER SCHOOLS 
AND WINTER EVENINGS. 
THE ONLY PAY - SCHOOL PAPER PUBLISHED! 
ORIGINAL SCHOOL MUSIC, 
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CLARK S SCHOOL VISITOR, VOL. VI. 
REV. ALEX. CLARK, EDITOR. 
A !nnri> and ele-Mntly printed Quarto Monthly for Teachers 
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price of the paper. 
Specimens furnished free. Now is the time to form clnbs. 
Address DAUGHVDAY k HAMMOND* 
619-4teo 411 Walnut St, Philadcdphia. 
GILMAN'S SHOE STORE, 
fo. 0 STATE STREET, 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
SnAKSPHARH says. [Wo think friend John out in 
his authority.) Says I, “that’s a funny saddle.” It 
hud bo many fixings about it and a hole rightthrough 
the middle where the horae’B back bone goes. You 
ought to see it, for it’s the queerest looking thing you 
overdid see. Raya he, “that’s a McClellan sad¬ 
dle.” “Yes,” says I, “it come from hia stable, I 
suppose.” “ No,” says he, “ it’s his kind of saddle.” 
“Oh!’’saysl, “then he makes saddles; 1’dliketogo 
to his shop some day.” I toll you if the fellows all 
round did’nt laff. “ Why, no,” says he, “the Gene¬ 
ral invented it.” 
Just then the General come down, and a whole 
lot of fellows on horso hack rode up and spread out 
before us, and pulled out their sords and made a 
flourish, and we got on£o onr horses, and rode round 
in Washington a little ways, and then started off 
over the longest bridge you ever did see. I and the 
General rode ’long together, and says 1, “General, 
what place is this.” “ Why,” says he, “this is the 
long bridge that the grand army crossed when they 
went to Bull Run.” “Well, then,” says I, “its the 
same place that all the ‘Political necessity’fellows 
tried to run over when they got so seared.” Then the 
General lulled one of those quiet, jolly, little luffs, 
which he gets off once in a while, and you don’t 
exactly know what he thinks. Well, he pointed out 
all the sights along the rode, and all the soldiers 
when they saw us would put their hands up to their 
cap or present, their gun, which you know is put¬ 
ting it right before you, and keeping tight held 
on’t. Says he, “haint yon got any commission in 
the army?” “No,” says 1, “but I was once first 
corporal in the Toemuddy Rangers, till they bust 
up.” “Well,” says he, “that’ll do tolerably well, 
but aint quite high enough now days,” Bays he, 
“haint you been pretty strong at town meetings, 
and elections.” “Oh! yes,” says I, “I’ve gone my 
length on politics, have made speeches at all the 
school houses in town, besides reading the Decla¬ 
ration of Independence, when we celebrated the 
Fourth of July, over to Stubtown Corners.” “Ah,” 
says he, “that’s better.” “But,” says he, “haint 
you run for any office and got defeated, or your 
time run out?” “Oh, yes,” says I, “I've been up 
for Supervisor, but Jones run me so fur out of sight 
that yon couldn't see my boot heels.” “Well,” 
says lie, “that’s better still, but is that all? Haint 
you had any office?” “ Why, no,” says I, “not ex¬ 
actly, but my daughter’s father-in-law, Smith, has 
been Member of Assembly, and lie is cousin to our 
Member of Congress.” “Just the thing,” says he, 
“I shall call you Colonel.” “Golly, Molly,” says 
I, “you’ll knock me off my horse if you do, for 
what in aty creation do I know about war?” Then 
he lafled one of them funny little luffs, and says he, 
“’taint considered necessary now dayB.” “Well,” 
says I, “that’s queer.” “Yes,” says he, “it may 
seem so to some folks, but the world progresses, and 
there aint au.v more need of knowledge on that sub¬ 
ject.” “Well,” says I, “I’ve beam tell that folks 
didn’t need to kuow £0 much now as they used to; 
mother says women needn’t learn to spin and weave 
now, hut 1 didn’t know it meant war, too.” “All a 
man wants to know,” says he, “isa 'political neces¬ 
sity,’ and he can he eneinost any thing he likes.” 
Just then we got in sight of the field, which looked 
blade with men, and we spurred up our horses, and 
went in. When we got down near the house where 
the flags was, we stopped, and the fellows that rode 
behind ns went round behind the house out of the 
way; and pretty soon Mr. Lincoln, and Mr. Seward, 
saw the Toemuddy Rangere do better, even when 1 
was first corporal.” “Good officers always make good 
soldiers,” says he. “But,” says I, “that rule won’t 
work both ways, for good soldiers won’t make good 
officers, even if they be ‘political necessity’ officers. 
“But,” say b J, “General, all this big army has got 
fathers and mothers, wives and children, and brothers 
and sisters, at home, and their lives are in yonr 
hands.” “ Yes,” said he, and he looked kinder sorry 
and mad at tho same time, “ but all them fathers 
and mothers, and wives and children, and brothers 
and sisters, are grumbling and finding fault ’cause I 
don’t lead their friends right into the jaws of death.” 
“That's so,” says I, “but they think you know what 
is best, and if they knowed the condition of tho coun¬ 
try here as well as you and I. they wonld thank yon, 
and love you the more for taking such pains to save 
life,” Just then another magnificent looking regi¬ 
ment passed us, and lie looked away. It was near 
upon dark before we got back to the city. Bnt just 
after the last body of men passed ua, and on the lot 
where hut a little while before so many human beings 
Lad congregated, (lor T do believe there was nigh 
upon 00,000,) not a soul was left. Says I, “General, 
our army has melted away like a snow-bank in a June 
sun.” “Yo», but let us hope, Colonel,” says he, 
“ that onr enemies will never be that sun.” 
As I am tired, 1 subscribe myself, yours to com¬ 
mand, John Plowhandle. 
r| yelk; mew york observer 
-I- FOR 1862 . 
Tin* Newxpaper is now th« lar«e*t *nrt cheapest of its first In 
the whole country,—poesemiini attra^tiooH peculiar to itself, 
and givine It u wide circulation in all parte or our country. 
It I* lovai. national, conservative, anil eiirnoct In it* no opart 
Of iho Goremnient, the Constitution, and the I,awg. It* dis¬ 
tinctive features are. 
1 It is printed oil a dnnhle sheet, fo *e to moke Two complete. 
XewrjMtprrr, aim devoted to NROULAK, arid the other KE- 
L1GIOUH matters; end these way be separated so as to make 
two complete journal*, while the price for both in no rtcuIuv 
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that are called Evangelical and thoee that eve not; a* every 
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S, It cir-r a u i II-dl(fO» 4 .ed epitome or the .Vr-ioA of the Dag. 
Foreign and Domestic, prepared with great labor and care, *o 
that the reader is rare to be pnt In peascmlon of every event of 
interest nnd importance to the public. It has distinct depart¬ 
ments devoted to Agriculture ami Commercial matters. 
A. The Foreign Chirrerpondence of the Oiiskkvkk is unrival- 
lad. and has long commanded the admiration of intelligent 
Trims for Now Subscribers. 
1. To each new euhscrifcer paving in advance $2,6*1 for one 
year, we will *> nd Use paper nnd a copy of our Bible Atlaa, 
with five beautiful colored mane. 
2. To the perron obtaining > ttftscrlbrrs we will trine o.vk dollar 
ftrreach NEW /wAxen'icr jirrgffigtJ.V)»« tuivatue. 
3. To any One now a su towriher -ending us one new subscriber 
and $4 wo'will send both papers for one rear. 
Specimen number-of the N»:w York Ohskrvrr will be sent 
gratis to any addict,- that may be forwarded to ub tor that 
Tire state of the country renders it important for u* and de¬ 
sirable fur the churches thiit a new nod earnest effort he male 
to extend the principles of gnyd government 8 ud soninl re¬ 
ligious truth into all the lain life* of the land. In every neigh¬ 
borhood there mu-t be some n ho do not now take a religious 
newspaper, and who might with a little exertion be induced to 
To introduce the NEW York OMrkykk Into the fair,Hies of 
the whole country, we trust, ia a work of snOlcfent importance 
to secure the aid of every patriot aud Christian. We ask your 
personal and unmeiliateco-openition. 
unset r, i It,, mi IK- 1 *., .Ill, w OO.. 
Editors and 1‘raprirtorr. 
619-2teow 37 l’AHK Bow, Nkw York. 
F AIJ1VT Ff>R SAI-TE.-An cv, oil..,,( grain 
farm of 1 IT acres. In l.ndvord, Caynga Co,, N. Y , the i—l- 
dnnon of the late A, M. r.Mikicuir.L, i* offered for sale. The 
Htnation healthv, plea«ant, and command* a view of Cayuga 
Lake ; it Is ruv' of access to tnarkot, school* and place* of 
worship) ia In a high state of cultivation and produces abund¬ 
ant crop-. It has a convenient duelling, two tenant house*, 
two tarns, and other out building-, fmr wells, and a uever- 
fiillngspring of good water, excellent fruit trees in bearing, 
and ten acre* of wood land. Pi !• t\ f,Y> per here. Addref 
617-4teow E. WILLITS, Union Springs, Cay. Co., N. Y. 
GILMAN'S SHOE STORE, 
To. 0 STATE STREET, 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
1 am composed of 25 letters. 
My 11, 9, 20, 17 is a river in Africa. 
My 20,15,17 is a county in Georgia. 
My 2,1, 4, 2 is a county in New YotIc. 
My 20, 4, 0, 22, 32, 20, 16 is a county in Maine. 
My 8 ,10,1, 23,16. 8 ,12 is a city in Canada. 
My 21, 19, 22, 10 is a town iu Maine. 
My 3, 8 . 19, 25. 15, 6 is an island near New York. . 
My 10, 21, 23, 12, 6 , 5,1, 18, 4,19 is a division of the Chinese 
Empire. 
My 14,18, 2, 2, 16, 15 is a county in New York. 
My 24, 15, 16,16, 17, 3, 21, 17, 2 is one of the seceded States. 
My whole is an event very much regretted by Union-loving 
people. 
Clarkston, Mich., 1861. Dkllir A. Hill. 
Answer in two weeks. 
-. ■».-- 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ANAGRAM. 
Fi verye napi dan erne ew elfe 
Donlc rubn opnu rou wrob, 
Who nyani ertahe lowdu emvo ot leha 
11 tat ritevs ot srhcu su nwo. 
Gainesville, N. Y., 1881. C. P. F. 
Answer in two weeks. 
-- ♦ »- 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
A well is to be stoned, the diameter of which ia 6 feet 6 
inches. The thickness of the wall is to be 1 foot 6 inches, 
leaving the diameter of the well, within the stones, 3 feet 6 
inches. If the well is 40 feet deep, how many feet of stone 
will be required? 
Primrose, Wisconsin, 1861. E. S. K. 
fCxp Answer in two weeks. 
riYHE BOOK RESULTING FROM THE 
1 “NATIONAL HYMN COMMITTEE.” 
GrCO. W. ELLIOTT, 
No. AValitor Srt-eet, New Yorlr, 
nAS JUST PUBLISHED 
NATIONAL HYMNS: 
How they lire written and how they are not written: 
Jt Lyric and National St tidy fur the Times, 
BY RICHARD GRANT WHITE. 
One volume,elegantly printed oo tinted paper, >ntUembellish¬ 
ments. Price, handsomely bound in cloth, Si. 
As an impression prevails to some extent that there are to be 
two different books upon the above subject. Mr. Elliot'! ae- 
sires to say that such is not the case; but that hi- bason ar¬ 
rangement with Messrs. Rcni) .V Cakucto.v. the owners of the 
plates, by which he alone is to be known for a specitied tune a* 
publisher. _ 
8TANDARD HOOKS FOR AGENTS. 
I.OSSING'3 PJtn'ORlAL H1STONY OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 1 vot.. royal Svo , 7U0 pages; 3(A) Engravings. Price 
^LOSSING'S EMINENT .AMERICANS. 1 vol.. Svo., 416 pages; 
IOC Portraits. PiiM 82 . ... 0042 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 019. 
Answer to Algebraical Problem — 6 ’j cords. 
Answer to Charade;—Biographical. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma ;—Take care of the minutes 
and the hours will take care of themselveE. 
tke Speeches and Writings of Distinguished Men. 1 vol, 12nio, 
works tent to any address, pre- 
^^AGENTS^wanteVin all parts of the country. Great induce- 
“mIBCELIANEOUS rates. 
619 _ 3 t No, 39 Walker Street, New York. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THK LAXGKST CLUCCLATEB 
agricultural, LITIRARY and family weekly, 
IS PUBLISHED BVKKT SATURDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, R. Y. 
Terms in Advance: 
Subscription —Two Dollars a Ykau. To Clubs and 
Agents as follows.—Three Copies one year, for t-fo riix, ant one 
free to club agent, for $10; Ten, and one free, for $35; rilteen, 
and one free, for $21; Twenty, and one free, for$i3; and any 
greater number at same rate — only $ , i3 per copy,—with an 
extra free copy for every Ten Subscribers over Twenty. L. jo 
papers directed to Individuals and sent to as many Ailletvot 
Post-Offices as desired. As we pre-pay American postage on 
papers sent to the British Provinces, our Canadian agents and 
friends must add 12J4 cents per copy to the club rates ot the 
Rural. The lowest price of copies sent to Europe, w 
$2.50 —including postage. 
