1 
sparing neither blow uor^taunt in their passions, 
and demanding from her at all times whatever 
service it suited their capricious fancy to need. 
Nurse, the only one who ever showed a grain ol' 
consideration for the orphan, would sometimes 
shield her from their impish attacks, when she 
could do so with safety to licreelf; but she was 
not permitted to deal with those darliugs In the 
only fashion which would have been at all likely 
to bring them to reason. As for the elders of 
the house, Teecie Ray's momentary presence, or 
the mere mention of her name, was sufficient to 
ruffle their peace of mind. “What is to be 
done with that girl?” I hoard Mrs. Rutlund 
remark to one of her daughters. “ If shc-were 
not lame, one might set her to earn her bread in 
same way; but as it is-’’ A shrug of tlio 
shoulders, and a vinegar like expression of 
countenance, which this lady knew how to 
assume, sufficiently developed the idea thus 
imperfectly expressed. 
Aud how did Teecie Ray meet all this ? She did 
not complain nor rebel—she did not sulk nor 
fret. Under that well worn black frock of bers 
she carried a little breast-plate of sober, deter¬ 
mined endurance. When sorely tried, there 
was never any cowardly submission to be seen 
in her grave, little face, neither was there ever 
in her manner or words either reproach or 
remonstrance. She simply endured. Her large 
patient eyes and mute wise mouth seemed to 
say, “Whatever I suffer, whatever I long to 
dare, gratitude shackles my limbs, and seals my 
lips. 1 am saved from many things; therefore I 
am dumb.” 
The second time I met my little benefactress 
was a day or two after our first interview in the 
drawing-room. I came upon her, one afternoon 
by chance, limping down a hedge lane which lay 
to the back of the house, away beyond the gar¬ 
dens, and the kitchen gardens, and the pleasure 
grounds. This lane, I found, led to a large 
meadow, and beyond the meadow there was a 
wooded hill, and far down at the distant side of 
the hill there was a river. This was Teecie Ray's 
favorite ramble, and her one avenue of escape 
from the torments of the nursery. I imme¬ 
diately began pouring forth a legion of perplex¬ 
ing troubles and difficulties, to all of which she 
listened with perfect credulity, expresssing her 
sympathy as I went along by an expressive nod 
of the head, or a shrewd, swift glance. Then 
she gave me her wise, little counsel when all was 
told her, and went home, I believe, pondering 
on my case. [Concluded next week. 
has the impudence to come here without a shil¬ 
ling in his pocket ? Ought he not to be stoned 
alive?” 
“ I thought liow it was,'' said she, shaking her 
head, and looking up with another of her shrewd 
glances. “I knew it, when they put you into 
such a bad bed-room. They are keeping all the 
good rooms for the people who are coming next 
week. The house will be full for Christmas. It 
won't do,” she added, meditatively. 
“ What won’t do ? ” I said. 
“Your not having a shilling in your pocket. 
They'll sneer at yon for it, and the servants will 
find it out. I have a guinea that old Lady 
Thornton gave me on my birthday, and if you 
would take the loan of it I should be very glad. 
I don’t want it at all, and you could pay me back 
when you are better off.” 
She said this with such business like gravity, 
that I felt obliged to control my inclination to 
laugh. She had evidently taken me under her 
protection. Iler keen little wits foresaw spares 
and difficulties besetting my path during my 
stay at Rutland Hall, to which my newer eyes, 
she imagined, must be ignorantly blind. I 
looked at her with utter amazement, as she sat 
there evidently seriously considering my finan¬ 
cial interests. I had a fancy to humor this 
quaint confidential relation that had sprung up 
so spontaneously between us. I said, gravely, 
“I am very much obliged to you for your 
offer, aud will gladly take advantage of It, Miss 
Ray. Do you happen to have the guinea at 
hand ?” 
She seized her crutches and limped quickly 
out of the room. Presently she returned with a 
little bon-bon box, which she placed in my hand. 
Opening it, I found one guinea wrapped up care¬ 
fully in silver paper. 
“ I wish it had been more! ” she said, very 
wistfully, as I coolly transferred it to my pocket, 
box and all. “But I so seldom get money ! ” 
At this moment the solemn person who had 
escorted me hither and thither before, announced 
that my dinner was served. 
On my return to the drawing-room, I found, 
to my intense disappointment, that my benefi¬ 
cent bird had flown. Teecie Ray had limped off 
to the nursery. 
[special notice.] 
Brown’* Rrouclilal Troches, when al¬ 
lowed to dissolve in the mouth, have a direct influence to 
the affected parts -, the soothing effect to the mucous lin¬ 
ing of the windpipe allays Pulmonary Irritation andgives 
relief in ('ought. Colds, and the various Throat Affections 
to which public speakers and singers are liable. 
Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
S MISERERE. 
unused to their formal manners in this country. 
He is lying in wait for me on the mat inside.” 
I was admitted by a solemn person as quietly 
and mechanically as though my restoration to 
home and kindred were a thing that had hap¬ 
pened regularly in his presence every day since 
his birth. He ushered me into a grand hall, 
but no mat supported the impatient feet of the 
dignified master of the house. “Ah!” said I, 
“even this, perhaps, were scarcely etiquette. 
No doubt he stands chafing on the drawing-room 
hearth mg. and I have little enongh time to 
make myself presentable before dinner.” So, 
resigning myself to circumstances, I meekly fol¬ 
lowed a guide who volunteered to conduct me 
to the chamber assigned to tny especial use. I 
had to travel a considerable distance before I 
reached it. “ Dear me! ” I remarked to myself 
when I did reach it, “I had expected to find the 
rooms in such a house more elegantly appointed 
than this! ” 
I made my toilette, and again submitting my¬ 
self to my guide, was conveyed to the drawing¬ 
room door. All the way down stairs I had been 
conning pleasant speeches with which to greet 
my kinsfolk. I am not a brilliant person, but I 
sometimes succeed in pleasing when I try, and 
on this occasion I had the desire to do my best. 
The drawing-room door was at the distant 
end of the hall, and my arrival had been so quiet 
that I conceived my expectant entertainers 
could hardly be aware of my presence in the 
house. 1 thought I should give them a surprise. 
The door opened and closed upon me, leaving 
me within the room. I looked around me and 
saw — darkness there, and nothing more. 
Ah, yes, but there was something more! 
There was a blazing fire which sent eddying 
swirls of light through the shadows, and right 
in the blush of its warmth a little figure was 
lounging in au easy chair. The little figure was 
a girl of apparently about fifteen or sixteen years 
of age, dressed in a short, shabby, black frock, 
who was evidently spoiling her eyes by reading 
by the fire-light. She lay with her head thrown 
back, a ma.-s of fair, curly hair being thus tossed 
over the velvet cushion on which it rested, while 
she held her book aloft to cateb the light. She 
was luxuriating in her solitude, and little dream¬ 
ing of interruption. 
She was so absorbed in her book, the door had 
opened and closed so noiselessly, and the room 
was so large that I was obliged to make a 60 und 
to engage her attention. She started violently 
then and looked np with a nervous fearfulness 
in her face. She dropped her book, sat upright, 
and put out her hand, eagerly grasping a thing 
I had not noticed before, and which leaned 
against the chair—a crutch. She then got up, 
leaning on it and stood before me. The poor 
little thing was lame, and had two crutches 
by ber. 
I introduced myself, and her fear seemed to 
subside. She asked me to sit down, with a prim 
little assumption of at-homenese, which did not 
sit upon her with ease. She picked up her book 
and laid it on her lap; she produced a net from 
the recesses of her chair, and with a blush 
gathcredup the curls and lucked them into its 
meshes. Then she sat quiet, but kept her hand 
upon her crutches, as if she was ready at a 
moment’6 notice to limp away across the carpet, 
and leave me to my own resources. 
“ Thomson thought there was nobody in the 
room,” she said, as if anxious to account for her 
own presence there. “ I always stay in the nur¬ 
sery, except sometimes when they all go out 
and I get this room to myself. Then I like to 
x-ead here." 
“ Mr. Rutland is not at home ? ” 
“ No, they are all out dining.” 
“Indeed! Your papa, perhaps, did not get 
my letter?” 
She blushed crimson. 
“I am not a Miss Rutland,” she said. “My 
name is Teecie Ray. I am an orphan. My 
father was a friend of Mr. Rutland, and he takes 
car© of me for charity.” 
The last word was pronounced with a certain 
controlled quiver of the lip. But she went on: 
“I don’t know about the letter, but I heard a 
gentleman was expected, I did not think it 
could be to-night, though, as they went out.” 
“A reasonable conclusion to come to,” I 
thought, and thereupon began mu&ing on the 
eagerness of welcome displayed by my affection¬ 
ate Cousin George. If I were the gentleman 
expected, they must have received my letter, 
and iu it were fully set forth the day and hour of 
my proposed arrival. "Ah! George, my dear 
fellow,” I said, “you arc not a whit changed !" 
Arriving at this conclusion, I raised my glance, 
and met, full, the observant gaze of a pair of 
large, shrewd, grey eyes. My little hostess for 
the time being was regarding me with such a 
curiously legible expression on her face, that I 
could not but read it and be amused. It said 
plaiuly: 
“I know more about yon than you think, 
and I pity you. You come here with expecta¬ 
tions which will not be fulfilled. There is much 
mortification in store for yon. 1 wonder you 
came here at all. If I were once well outside 
these gates I should never limp inside them 
again. If I knew a road out into the world you 
come from, I would set out bravely on my 
crutches. No, not even for the sake of a stolen 
hour like this, in a velvet chair, would I remain 
here.” 
How any one glance could say all this was a 
riddle; but it did say ail this, The language of 
the face was os simple to me as though every 
word bad been translated into my ear. Perhaps 
a certain internal light, kindled long ago, before 
this little orphan was born, or George Rutland 
had become owner of Rutland Hall, assisted me 
in deciphering so much information so readily. 
However that may be, certain things before sur¬ 
mised became assured facts In my wind, and a 
quaint bond of symputhy became at once estab¬ 
lished between me and my companion. 
“ Miss Ray,” I said, “ what do you think of a 
man who, having been abroad for fifteen years, 
Pitt us. Lord ! 
Waiting with worn hearts in anguish and dread 
While the swift strokes of war's thunderbolts fly. 
Waiting to know who are wounded and dead. 
On the red plain ’neath a sweet Southern sky; 
Pity us, Lord ! 
Day after day 
Deepens the conflict for woe or for weal, 
Fierce as the tempest the battle lines sway, 
Thunder of cannon, and daehing of steel. 
Drown the sad murmurs of white lips that pray 
Day after day. 
Through the dread fight, 
Brave as the bravest to charge on the foe, 
Firm in the courage that never will yield, 
Onr ranks are marchingand well do we know 
They will not falter in fortress or field, 
Through the dread fight 
Pity ns, Lord ! 
Pity our pain, for the bravest must fall— 
Thousands have died with their face to the foe, 
They may be next whom we love most of all: 
While of their fate we are waiting to know, 
Pity ns, Lord ! 
Oh I It is hard! 
They may be wounded and fainting alone, 
Scorched by the sunbeams and chilled by the dew, 
None to caress them, to silence the moan— 
They may have died for our flag's starry blue. 
Oh! it is hard! 
“ Could we but save!” 
Thus is the burden of anguish upborne, 
Syllabled ever by white lips in prayer; 
God save them! and if for heroes we monrn. 
Help us all nobly onr suffering to bear, 
When Thou dost save. 
Pity us, Lord! 
Still with warm hearts we are waiting in dread. 
While the swift strokes of war's thunderbolts fly, 
Waiting to know who are wounded and dead, 
Prone on the plain ‘neath a sweet Southern sky: 
Pity us. Lord ! 
/-iOMSTOOK'S R O T A R Y SPADER. 
1 ravine purchased the exclusive right to manufacture 
and vend this 
GREAT AGRICULTURAL WANT, 
(throughout the Polled Statin, excepting the New Eng¬ 
land and some of the Atlantic and Pacific Staton, , which 
has been so thoroughly und satisfactorily tested, I am now 
prepared to receive orders lor thorn 
A boy 15 years old, with four good h»rses,ean spade six 
to eight acres per day, eight Inches deep, leaving the fluid 
In the condition of a garden bed when forked. 
Depots will be established at Chicago, Milwaukee, St. 
Louis, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, und other Western and 
Southern cities, alld I shall endeavor to meet the demand 
by manufacturing extensively; hat orders should be sent 
cariy to avoid delayand disappoint me tit. 
For further information, price, Ac.. send for circular. 
J. C. BIJ>WKI,L Pittsburgh, Pa.,Plow WorkB. 
Pittsburgh, Pa., Novcmbei. ISM. 7S2-tf 
M ason & h: a ivr m i tnt > s 
CABINET ORGANS, 
For Families, Churches and Schools, 
ADAPTED TO 
SACRED AND SECULAR. CHURCH 
AND 
HOME MUSIC. 
PRICES: §110, §130, §140, §100, and upward, 
according to number of stops and style of 
case, 
t^”Tliey are elegant as pieces of Fur¬ 
niture, oecupy little space, are not lia¬ 
ble to get out of order, and every one 
is warranted for five years. 
Illuntrnted Catalogues, with fullpartlculare, free 
to any address. Ware room a. No. 7 Mercer street, New 
York, and No. 274 Washington street, Boston. 
GIBBONS St STONE, Sole Agents for Rochester 
and Monroe county. No. 22 South St. Paul street, Roch¬ 
ester, N. Y. TSltf 
STEEL COMPOSITION BELLS. 
A good Church or other Bell for 20 cents 
per pound. 
warranted 
To give Satisfaction. 
for valuable Information 
upon the subject of 
IB teHLILS 
send for pamphlets to the un¬ 
dersigned, who are ihe only 
mauiuaeturers of this de¬ 
scription of Bell with Har- 
- risen's xelf-mttng pa- 
(2' tented rotating hang- 
29 lugs, eltbertn this coun- 
■'Afr try or In Europe. 
Next morning, at breakfast, I was introduced 
to the family. I found them, on the whole, 
pretty much what I had expected. My Cousin 
George had developed into a pompous, portly, 
pflter familias; and, in spite of Ids cool profes¬ 
sions of pleasure, was evidently very sorry to 
see me. The Mamma Rutland just counte¬ 
nanced me, in a manner the most frigidly polite. 
The grown np young ladies treated me with the 
most well bred negligence. Unless I had been 
very obtuse indeed, I could scarcely have 
failed to perceive the place appointed for me in 
Rutland Hall. I was expected to sit below the 
salt. I was that dreadful thing—a person of no 
importance. George amused himself with me 
for a few days, displaying to me his various fin e 
possessions, and then, on the arrival ol' grander 
gneste, left me to my own resources. The 
Misses Rutland endured my escort on their 
riding expeditions only till more eligible cava¬ 
liers appeared. As for the lady of the house, 
her annoyance at having me quartered indefi¬ 
nitely on her premises, was hardly concealed. 
The truth was, they were new people in the 
circle in which they moved, and it did not suit 
them to have a poor relation coming suddenly 
among them, calling them “ cousin,” and making 
himself at home in the house. 
For me, I was not blind, though none of 
these things did it suit me to sec. I made my¬ 
self as comfortable aa it was possible under the 
circumstances, look every sneer and snnb iu 
excellent part, aud was as amiable and satisfied 
on all occasions as 1 hough I believed myself to 
be the most cherished inmate of the household. 
That this meanness of mine should provoke their 
contempt, I had hardly a right to complain of. 
Nor did I. I accepted this like the rest of their 
hospitality, and smiled contentedly as the days 
went on. The gloom which had oppressed me 
on my first arrival in England had all betaken 
itself away. How could 1 feel otherwise than 
supremely happy at finding ruyself thus sur¬ 
rounded by my kind relations thus generously 
entertained under their hospitable roof? 
As I found that, the guests at Rutland Hall 
enjoyed « certain freedom in their choice of 
amusements, and the disposal of their time, I 
speedily availed myself of this privilege. I selected 
ray own associates, aud I entertained myself as 
pleased me best. Not finding myself always 
welcomed in the drawing-room, 1 contrived, by 
a series of the most dexterous artifices, to gain 
the free entree of the nursery. Iu this nursery 
were growing up some five or six younger 
branches of the Rutland family. After a certain 
hour iu the day none of the elders ever thought 
of invading its remote precincts. Five o’clock 
in the evening was the children’s tea hour, and 
the pleasantest, I thought, in the twenty-four. 
Nurse was a staid woman, who knew how to 
appreciate a little present now and again, and to 
keep her own counsel on the subject. The 
children were not pleasant children ; they were 
unruly, mischievous little wretches. They con¬ 
ceived a sort of affection for me, because I 
sometimes brought to the nursery sundry pur¬ 
chases made during solitary rides; picture 
books, tops, dolls, or sweet-meats, procured by 
means of Tcceie Ray’s guinea. 1 suggested as 
much to Teecie one evening as she sat by, 
watching the distribution, and she nodded her 
head iu sage satisfaction. She thought that I 
economized my substance very well. It cov¬ 
ered a great many small extravagances, that 
gniuca did. 
Whatever might be my position at Rutland 
Hall, Teecie Ray’s was simply intolerable. A 
spirit less brave must have been cowed and 
broken by it; a nature less delicate must have 
been blunted and made coarser. The servants 
openly neglected her; the children used her as 
wreaked their humors on her, 
STORY OF A POOR RELATION 
The evening was raw and there was snow on 
the streets, genuine London snow, half thawed, 
and trodden, and defiled with mud. I remem¬ 
ber it well, that snow, though it was fifteen 
years since I had last seen its cheerless face. 
There it lay, in the same old ruts, and spreading 
the same old snares on the side paths. Only a few 
hours arrived from South America via South¬ 
ampton. I sat in my room at Morley's Hotel, 
Charing Cross, and looked gloomily out at the 
fountains, walked up and down the floor discon¬ 
tentedly. and fiercely tried my best to feel glad 
that I was a wanderer no more, and I had indeed 
got home at last. 
I poked np my fire, and took a long look 
backward upon my past life, through the embers. 
I remembered how my childhood had been em¬ 
bittered by dependence, — how my rich and 
respectable unele, whose ruling passion was 
vain glory, had looked on my existence as a 
nuisance, not so much because he was obliged 
to open his puree to pay for my clothing and 
education, as because that, when a man, he 
thought I could reflect no credit upon his name. 
I remembered how in those days I had 3 soul for 
the beautiful, and a certain almost womanish 
tenderness of heart, which by dint of much 
sneering had been successfully extracted from 
me. I remembered my uncle’s uueoncealed 
relief at my determination to go abroad and 
seek my fortune, the cold good-by of my only 
cousin, the lonely bitter farewell to England 
hardly sweetened by the impatient hopes ihat 
consumed rather than cheered me—the hopes 
of name and gold, won by my own exertions, 
with which i should yet wring from those who 
despised me the worthless respect which they 
denied.me now. 
Sitting there at the fire, I rang the hell, and 
the waiter came to me,—an old man whose face 
I remembered. I asked him some questions. 
Ye6, he knew Mr. George Rutland,—recollected 
that many years ago he used to 6tny at Morley’s 
when he came to London. Tlie old gentleman 
had always stayed there. But Mr. George was 
too grand for Morley’s now. The family always 
came to town in the spring, but, at this season, 
“Rutland Hail, Kent," would be pretty sure to 
be_ their address. 
Having obtained all the information I desired, 
I began forthwith to write a letter: 
“Dear George : — 1 dare say you will be as 
much surprised to see my handwriting as you 
would to see an apparition from the dead. How¬ 
ever, yon know I was always a ne’er-do-well, 
and I nave not had the grace to die yet I am 
ashamed not to be able to announce myself as 
having returned home with my fortune made; 
but mishaps will follow the most hurd- working 
aud well-meaning. I am still a young man, 
even though fifteen of the best years of my life 
are lost, and I am willing to devote myself to 
any worthy occupation. Meantime, 1 am anx¬ 
ious to see you and yours. A long absence from 
home and kindred makes one value the grasp of 
a friendly hand. I shall not wait for your 
reply to this, but go down to Kent the day after 
to-morrow, arriving, I believe, about dinner 
time. You see I am milking mysell assured of 
your welcome for a few weeks, till I have time 
to look about me. 
“ I remain, dear George, 
“ Your old friend and cousin, 
“Gut Rutland.” 
I folded this missive and placed it in its envel¬ 
ope. “I shall find out, once for all, what they 
are made of,” I said, complacently, as I wrote 
the address, “George Rutland, Esq., Rutland 
Hall, Kent.” 
It was about seven on a frosty evening when I 
arrived at the imposing entrance of Rutland 
Hall. No Cousin George came rushing out to 
meet me. “ Of course not,” I thought; “ I am 
AMEBIC AN BEt.I, COMPANY, 
No. 30 Liberty street, Now York. 
TTS-tf 
U S. GOVERNMENT ARTIFICIAL LEG 
• DEPOTS—Where Die (Livei-uineut (UfuuhiM the 
United Slates Army Mid Navy Leg to sold- 
^-- gratis, or Us niln ' applied on the Atsa- 
f-*■ i at tomli'nl Kali ami Socket Jointed Leg, which 
11 has laterak 1 notion at the ankle, like tho natu- 
II ml one. New York, «S Broadway; Itochea- 
lf ter, N. Y.. over the post-office; Cincinnati, 
J1 Ohio. In Mechanic* Institute: St. Louis, Mo., 
■-» 73 Pine street: Chicago, 111., opposite the post- 
office. DOUGLAS ltLY, M. D., U. 8. Commissioner. 
Citizens famished on privnie acconnt. 
For Instructions, address Dr. BLY, at nearest Depot. 
For Moore's Rnral New-Yorker. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS. 
YV 1YLOJN’.L’JbL J 
WyANTED.— Sewing Machine agents! Every- 
“ where, to introduce the new Marc & Clark Sixteen 
Dollar /family Setclnu Mnchtne. the Oolu low price 
machine lu the country winch la licensed by Grover & 
Baker. Wheeler A Wilson, llowe, Singer * Co., and 
Bacheidor. Salary aud expeiiHca, or large commission 
allowed. AU other Machines now sold for lew than forty 
dollar* each are In/rititietiu nit, and the seller and user 
liable, illustrated circular* still free. Address, SIIAW 
& CLARK, BjdacfOrd, Maine. 770-121 
rpo INVENTOR* AND PATENTEE*— Draw- 
J. inzeaud apccincations lor obtaining patent* In the 
United States, Canada and Europe. Rejected applica¬ 
tions prosecuted without charge unless successful, J. 
FRASER & CO., Western New York Patent Agency, 
Rochester uud Buffalo. N. Y. 770-tf 
52^” Answer in two weeks 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
VIN’S PATENT H A I It CHI.HPEBS 
I inn composed of 37 letters. 
My 11, 34, 84, 31,18 is a county in Ohio. 
My IU, 17, 3. 6 is a river iu Michigan. 
My 22, 27, 14, 4. 21), 10 is a city in Wisconsin. 
My 26.10, 0,11, 10, 20,17, 24 isu county in New Hamp¬ 
shire, 
My IV, 1, 6, 28,12,18 is a river in Europe. 
My 2,17,0. IS, 30,16 is a connty in Iowa. 
My 18, 23,18, 21.15, 27. 36 is a city in New Jersey. 
My 25, 8, 30. 29.1 is a river in Mississippi. 
My 19, 7, 23, 21. 35. 37,14 is a county in North Caroli- 
LADIES, TRY THEM. 
They will make your hair wave beautiful without 
heating It. For safe nt variety store* throughout the 
country. Retailers will be supplied by uuy first class 
Jobber of Notions In New York, Philadelphia or Bos- 
~KRAIX TILE MAC HINE, BE*T IN U*E, 
J manufactured by A. LA TOURKETTE, 
738-tf Waterloo. Seneca CO.. N. Y. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LArtGEST-CmcTTLATlNG 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper 
18 PUBLISHED EVERT SATURDAY BY 
D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
My 8, 7, 4, 20, 2,1 is a city in Spain. 
My 17, 4, 26,19,16,11, 33, 35,17 is a city in New York. 
My 11,1,12,10, 21, 0 is a river in Texas. 
My 10, 20.17, 5, 10, 32 is a connty in Illinois. 
.My 1,14,17, 7, 6. 18. 20 ie a city iu Georgia. 
My 3,11,1, 9, 2, 4 is a river iu New York. 
My 12, 7, C, 2, 3, 17 is a city in Maine. 
My whole Is what we should all remember. 
La Grange, N. Y. Kate, 
E® 1 ” Answer in two weeks. 
TERMS, -LV ADVANCE; 
Three Dollars a Yenr— To Clubs and Agents as fol¬ 
lows:— FI vu Copies one year, for $14; Seven, and one free 
to Club Agent, for $19; Ten, and one free, for $25; aud 
any greater number nt the name rate—only $280 per copy. 
Club papers directed to Individuals and ncntto as tunny 
different Post-Offices as desired. As we prepay Ameri¬ 
can postage ou copies sent abroad, J2.fi) l* the lowest 
Club rate ror Canada, aud *3.00 to Europe, -but during 
the present rate of exchange, Canada Agonta or Sub¬ 
scribers remitting Tor the It oral in blit* of their own 
specie-paying banks will not he charged postage. The 
best way to remit la by Draft on New York, (less cost of 
exchange ,j—and all draffs made payable to the order of 
tlie Publisher, max be mailed at huh risk. 
gy The above Terms and Rates must bo strictly ad¬ 
hered to so long as published—aud we trust there will he 
no necessity for advancing them during the year. Those 
who remit less than specified price for a club or single 
copy, will bo credited only as per rates. Persons sending 
less than full price for this volume will flud when their 
subscriptions expire by referring to figures on address 
label —the figures indicating the No. of the paper to 
which they have paid being given. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
AN ANAGRAM, 
HET RIKARSTWO MELEWOC. 
Laiii ! ey soereh, moch guisternn! 
Ojy dnecsees ot ghosthut fo grimnoun: 
Tuglarfe terhas twhi tarpreu ribgnnn, 
Melewoc hsnt roily taglnal nabd. 
LoitB rca rea erov, safe ncarritteg, 
Nirdef nad velro flojuy gimeten; 
Lai rou noytruc dvnss au tregginc: 
Varbe redfeseud fo orn uadi. 
Lakeville, N. Y. C. W. Huntington 
IW Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker- 
ANAGRAMS OF BATTLES. 
Vespcnenis, 
Kaafoirs, 
Nelingtox, 
Grnndspigs, 
Main teat, 
C'hrisbrcedkrugh, 
Birdrall, N. Y. 
tr Answer in two weeks, 
BrumhawgilUs, 
Vainlermlkl. 
Greedapi, 
Rtifremroobee, 
Grandbnttinspilgb, 
Hictensrew. 
Remit Early.— Agouts will please send In their lists, 
or parts of them, as soon as conveuleut, In order that 
we may get names In type for mailing machine us fast 
as possible. Those forming clubs of teu or more, can 
send 4, 6 or eight names at the club rate for 10, and after 
that fill out lists aud secure extra copies, premiums, A c. 
The Postage on the Rural New-Yorker is only 5 
cents per quarter to any part of this State, (except this 
connty, where It goes free,) and the same to any other 
Loyal State, if paid quarterly In advance where received. 
ThetKUral ns it Preiteut.— Any xubxcrtber wishing 
to send the Huual to a friend or relative, at a pretent, 
will be charged only $2,50, it is also furnished to Clergy¬ 
men, Teachers and Soldiers at the same rate. 
Addition* lo Club.* arc always tn order, whether In 
ones, two*, lives, tens, twenties, or any other number. 
Subscriptions can commence with the volume or any 
number; but the former is the best time, aud wo shall 
send .from It for soma weeks, unless specially directed 
otherwise. Please “ make a note of It.” 
Sparta, 
ANSWER TO ANAGRAMS, &c., IN No. 783, 
Answer to Illustrated Enigma:—Engraving iu all 
its branches. 
Auwer to Geographical Enigma: —Rekroy Wen 
Larnr S’erootn. (Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.) 
Answer to Auagrnm: 
He who would stay a stream with sand, 
Or fetter lire with flaxen band. 
Has still a harder task to prove, 
By strong resolve to conquer love. 
they pleased 
I 
