most of the muck back of his tie-up, which had 
become well saturated, and filled the trench up 
anew. 
The old settlers upon the ridge, had set out a 
great many apple trees, and made a great deal of 
cider; but the fruit was mostly wild and of an 
inferior quality. "When spring came Walton 
went to some of hie neighbors, and ached them 
to go with him, and send for some good cions to 
engraft upon their apple trees. He explained to 
them just the plan he had formed for his oivn 
orchard. He£liad*eMgaged a competent man to 
that they were digging a wide, deep trench the 
whole length of the tie-up. 
“ What on airth is all this for?” asked Ben.’ 1 ; 
“ Why,” returned Walton, who^was busy in 
superintending the work, and also in working 
himself, ‘‘I am having a place fixed here for 
making manure. I mean to fill this trench up 
with good muck, and thus save the liquids 
which have heretofore been lost. I think, by 
proper management, I can get full double the 
quantity of manure which others have got on 
this place.” 
PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT. 
The price of lands varies from $9 to S15 and upwards per acre, ;uid tliey are sold on short credit, or for 
cash A deduction of ten per cent, from the short credit price is made to those who buy for cash. 
EXAMPLE: 
Forty acres at $10 per acre, on credit: the principal one-quarter cash down—balance one, two and three 
years, at six per cent, interest, Ut advance, each year. 
ISiTEItrST. i'HINOIPAI.. INTEREST. 
Own payment,.$18 O') iliuMio I Payment In two year*.$8 w 
^meSthioae y«r„......... 1* W 100 00 | “ Urrve yearn,. 
TUe Hsiiue I-an<l iu;»y l»e PurcliaMfd for IjIltCO i's»nh 
Full information on all points, together with maps, showing the exact location of lands, will bo furnished 
on application, in person or by letter, 10 
LAND COMMISSIONER, Illinois Central R. R. Co., Chicago, Illinois. 
haa learned.” 
‘‘That’s 60,” replied Eben Sawyer. 
“ True ae a book,” added Bancroft, 
“And I’m goin’ into it.” 
“So am I.” 
“And I.” 
Principal. 
loo 00 
100 00 
Tue stout landlord who, single-handed, put 
three rowdies out of his tavern, in spite of 
their united resistance, may fairly he called a 
host in himself. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LEE HAS SURRENDERED. 
nr FANNIE W. J-. 
At.t. over the Northland, giadlj', gaily, 
Loudly chime the victory bells, 
Hearts are throbbing, lips are smiling, 
To the deep-toned music swells. 
Lofty and proud, the starry banner 
Floats where treason late held sway; 
See bow the land with joy is teeming, 
God of our fathers, we thank Thee to-day. 
Grant us, oh Falher, ’mid victory’s triumph, 
Hearts that can pity our fallen foe, 
And while the joy-bells peal forth in gladness, 
Let ne forget not our heroes laid low. 
Peace to their ashes 1 Would we might gather 
Them up from the tombs on the far Southern strand, 
But we’ll shrine in our hearts their memory ever, 
And oil drop a tear for the brave of our land. 
Ring out, ye bells; the heart of the Northland, 
Is moved to its center with rapture to-day, 
For the bright sun of Peace is dissolving the shadows, 
And the night of Rebellion is passing away. 
Honeoye Falls, N. Y. 
JOHN WALTON’S FARM, 
“ Hadn’t you better subscribe for it ?” 
“ I tell you, no. I baint got the money to 
spare. And, if I had, I Mint got the time to 
waste over newspapers,” said Eben Sawyer, with 
some emphasis. 
“ But you will gain much information from 
it in the course of a year, sir,” pursued John 
"Walton. 
“I tell you, I don’t want it!” 
“’Well—'what say you, Mr. Grummet —shan’t 
IJhave your name?” 
“No, sir!” This was spoken so flatly and 
bluntly, that Walton said no more; but folded 
up the prospectus of a periodical which he had 
with him, and then turned away. 
Eben Sawyer and Ben Grummet were two 
old farmers,—that is, old at the business, though 
they had only reached the middle age of life,— 
and after their young neighbor had gone they 
expressed their opinions concerning him. 
“ He’ll never make a farmer,” said Sawyer 
with a shake of the head. “He spends too 
much time oyer them papers and books of bis’n. 
He’s aleetlemite above farmin’, in my opinion.” 
“ Them’s my sentiments responded Grummet. 
“ I tell you, Eben, the man that thinks to make 
a livin’ on a farm in this section, has got to work 
for it.” 
At this juncture Sam Bancroft came along. He 
was another old native of the district. 
“We was just talkin’ about young Walton,” 
said Sawyer. 
“I’vejes’ come from there,” replied Sam. 
“ He’s been borin' me. to sign for a paper ; but 
be couldn’t come it.” 
“Ha, ha,—so be bored us. He’6 gettin’ a 
leetle too high sot for a farmer.” 
“He’s rippin’ his barn floor up,” said Ban¬ 
croft. 
“Rippin’the floor upl” repeated Grummet. 
“ Why—Mr. Amsden had the whole floor put 
down new only three years ago.” 
“The tie up floor, I mean,” pursued Bancroft. 
“He's got a carpenter up from the village; and 
hi6 two hired men are helpin’.” 
« Whew! Fguess lie’ll make afarmer!” 
And so they all guessed—with a reservation. 
In short, there was something highly ridiculous 
in the thought of a man’s thinking to be a farm¬ 
er and a student at the same time; and all sorts 
of jests were discharged over it. 
John Walton was a young man —some five- 
and-twenty—and though he had been born in 
the neighborhood, yet much of his life had been 
6pent in other sections of the country. His pa¬ 
rents both died when he was quite young, and 
bis father’s farm passed into tbe bands of a Mr. 
Amsden. But now John bad married, and be 
meant to be a farmer; and bis thoughts natu¬ 
rally turned to the old homestead. He found 
Amsden willing to sell, and he bought it—pay¬ 
ing two thousand dollars down, and giving a 
note and mortgage for five hundred, which had 
been cashed by Mr. Piddon, 
This farming district was upon a broad ridge 
ol land, which had been cleared for a great many 
years; and though they were the handsomest 
and smoothest looking farms in town yet they 
were by no means the best. The summit of the 
ridge was crowned by a ledge of granite, and the 
soil, over the whole broad ewe-11, was more or 
less wet and cold. This was particularly the 
case with John Walton’s farm, 6ome portions of 
it being wholly unfit for cultivation. There was 
one field of over twenty acres—one of the 
smoothest and prettiest located fields in town— 
which was never fit for plowing. The soil was 
so wet and heavy that it could not be worked to 
any advantage. It had been mowed year after 
year, yielding about, three-quarters of a tun to 
the acre, of poor, wild, weedy hay. Yet there 
were other sections which were good, and Mr. 
Amsden had gained fair crops while h» lived 
there. 
Ben Grummet had a curiosity to see what was 
going on in "Walton’s barn, so he dropped in 
there. He found that the whole of tbe floor, 
where the cattle stood, had been tom up, and 
“Do ye?” said Grummet, sarcastically. 
“Yes,” resumed the young man. “It is a 
fact that the liquid manures, could they he saved, 
would fully equal the solids, both in bulk and 
value; and when combined with well rotted 
muck, and some other articles which shall take 
up and retain all the more volatile parts, I feel 
sure that they will afford more fertilizing powers 
and properties than the solid manures can." 
“Yon don’t say so? Wbere d’ye larn all 
that ?” 
“ Partly from reading, and partly from obser¬ 
vation,” answered John, smiling at his good 
neighbor's open sarcasm. 
“I don’t s’pose it costs anything to do all 
this?” 
“ 0, yes —it will cost me considerable before 
I get through.” 
“ Yaas —1 should rayther calkilate ’twould!” 
Ben Grummet spoke this very slowly, and with 
a great deal of meauing; and when he had look¬ 
ed on a few minutes longer he went away, 
“ I swan!” he cried, as he met Sawyer shortly 
afterwards. “ John "Walton's a reglar hiflutin. 
He’s jes’ about as nigh to bein’ crazy as a man 
can be!” 
“Eh?—crazy, Ben?” 
“O —I don’t mean, railly upset, like them 
folks whatjhas to be sent to the insane asylum; 
but he’s got bis head full of all sorts of nonsense. 
He’s got his tie-up floor all tom away, and a 
trench dug there big enough to hold more’n 
twenty cart loads of dirt.” 
“ But what in nature’s he gom’’to do ?” 
“ Why—he’s a goin' to save the liquids, as he 
calls em ! An’ he’s goin’ to put in some thin’ to 
take up the — the— vol-voluntary part6.” 
“ Voluntary parts ? What’s them, Ben ?” 
“ It was vol somethin’. But I don’t know. I 
wouldn’t ask him. I s’pose he just used the 
outlandish word so’6 to git me to ask him what 
it meant — an’ then he’d show off his lamin'. 
But I wa’n’t so green.” 
“ I wonder if he thinks he's a cornin’ here to 
lam us old farmers how to work ?” said Sawyer, 
rather indignantly. 
“I guess he thinks so,” returned Grummet. 
“Then I guess he’ll find out his mistake,” 
added the other. “ Jes’ you mark my words 
BenHe’ll be flat on his back afore two years 
is out!” 
Aud these were not the only ones who looked 
for the same thing. The idea of a man’s coming 
in there with any such new fangled notions was 
absurd. Their fathers and their fathers' fathers, 
had worked on that same ridge, and they wanted 
nothing better than what their honored progen¬ 
itors had bad before them. 
Autumn came, and after John Walton had 
mowed over the twenty acre field, getting hardly 
hay enough to pay for the labor, he set men at 
work digging deep trenches all over it. He had 
two dug lengthwise, running up and down the 
slope; and then he dug quite a number running 
across these. They were quite deep and broad, 
and into them he tumbled nearly all the stones 
that could be found in the fields. 
“A pooty expensive way of gettin’ rid o’ 
rocks,” remarked Grummet. 
“ It’s a better place for them than the surface, 
isn’t it?” returned Walton, with a smile. 
“Mcbbe. But what on airth are ye doin’ it 
for?” 
“Why—I’m going to'see it under-draining 
wont improve the land.” 
“ Under-draining! What’s that?" 
“It is simply drawing off the water from the 
surface. This land is cold and wet; but if I can 
get the water to drain off among these rocks, the 
sun may warm the surface, aud give me a good 
piece of soil here.” 
But it looked very foolish to Ben Grummet. He 
believed that “what was the nature of the soil 
couldn’t be altered.” However, the young man 
made his trenches — tumbled in the rocks — 
filled in on top with the loam he Lad originally 
removed; and then left it to work for itself a 
while. A month later he plowed up two acres 
of it, and he could see that the soil had already 
changed wonderfully. After this was done he 
cut his way to the muck swamp, and went, to 
hauling out that article, which he deposited in 
various places as he deemed proper. 
“ That’s a cur’us contrivance,” said Sam Ban¬ 
croft. He and Ben Grummet had been at work 
for Walton at hauling muck. He alluded to a 
large vat hack of the house, into which ran a 
spout to the sink. This vat was capable of hold¬ 
ing several cart loads of stuff, and was already 
half full. 
“ That’6 a compost vat,” explained Walton, 
who had overheard the remark. “All the siops 
from the house—the soap suds and such stuff— 
which most people waste, I save by this means, 
aud turn it to good account; and instead of 
throwing away refuse matter, I put it in here, 
and let it rot and ferment, and make manure.” 
“ But what’s this charcoal dust for?” 
“ It answers two purposes, though by only one 
office. It takes up the ammonia, and other vol¬ 
atile matter, thus holding them lor fertilizing 
agents, aud at the same time prevents the dis¬ 
agreeable effluvia 'which would otherwise arise 
from such a large fermenting mass.” 
“ That all sounds very pooty,” remarked Ben, 
after Walton had left them; hut let me jes’ tell 
you, it don't pay ! lie d better let sich fandan¬ 
gles alone if he ever expects to make a livin’ 
at farmin’.” 
Before tbe gronnd froze up Walton threw out 
come and do the {work of grafting, and while 
they were about it, it would be cheaper to get 
grafts enough for the whole neighborhood. 
“Howranch will it cost you?” asked Sawyer. 
“Why,” returned Walton, “I’m going into 
mine pretty thoroughly. My orchard is a very 
large one, as yours is; and, like yours, the trees 
arc mostly thrifty and vigorous —or could be 
made so,—but with very poor fruit. I mean to 
make a thorough thing of it, and shall probably 
expend a hundred dollars this spring.” 
“What! A hundred dollars! In your or¬ 
chard ?” 
“l r es.” 
“ Jewhitaker an’ broomsticks! When I git 
money to play with I’ll try it!” 
It was of no use. The old orchards were just 
such as their fathers had, and they were good 
enough. So Walton weut at it alone. He had 
his trees all pruned aud dressed, and nearly all 
of them grafted to such kind of fruit as he 
thought would thrive best, and sell best. 
A little while later, and Ben Grummet had oc¬ 
casion to open his eyes. He iound that John 
Walton hud contrived to have a hundred and 
forty lull loads of manure, all of which had been 
made within the year. However, he finally 
shook his head, and said, “Wait. We’ll sec it 
it’s good for anything.” 
A little while later, and the gras 6 began to 
spring up on the twenty-acre lot as it had never 
sprung up before. The two acres, which had 
been plowed, harrowed up light and fine, had 
bore tbe best crop of corn that was raised on 
the whole ridge; and all the manure put upon it 
was some which had been manufactured. 
And so the time went on, and John Walton 
was continually studying how to improve his 
farm. At the expiration of a few years the new 
cions had grown large and strong in his apple 
orchard, and began to bear fruit. He had taken 
the best care of his trees, and they were about 
ready to return him interest l'or the labor. 
“Good gracious!” ejaculated Eben Sawyer, as 
Ben Grummet and Sam Bancroft came into the 
house one cool autumn evening, and the three 
filled their mugs with new cider, “have you 
heard about John Walton ’6 apple?” 
“I knew that there was a man up to look 
at ’em,” returned Ben; “bnt haint heard no 
more.” 
“ Well—I was there, and heerd the whole on’t 
—60 1 know—I never would ’ave thought it. An 
orchard turn out like that!” 
“ But how much was it ?” 
« Why—Walton was offered—cash right down 
—five hundred and thirty dollars for the apples 
he’s got on 1 me that he sent 
nearly twi mic. w rth of early fruit 
off a mont. t>- more &_■: 
It was wonder nl —r ian wonderful. Bnt 
they had to t em •••'• it. 
“And jes’ .o! ‘ ' ?re field,” said 
Bancroft. “ fen y. »I* it wouldn't hardly 
pay for mow. I. d.\ ■ :r much else but 
podgum. No - It.. ok. t Think of the corn 
an’ wheat he’s j- o 141.-: an’ tut.-, year he cut 
more’n forty ti 11 of ’ •< <1 bay fro it!” 
“But that a. t half,” interposed Sawyer. 
$mm fit If flung. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS. 
Esr Answer in two weeks. 
“And jes’ >ok at ' > . tv-wntr ?re field,” said 
Bancroft. “Ten y< ' j- ■' it wouldn’t hardly 
payformowm • ir much else but 
podgum. No ■' loo a t i. Think of the corn 
an’ wheat he’t i-. a t.i-i >•: an tuis year he cut 
more’n forty L1. - of - •< 1 hay fro it!” 
“But that .1 t . | r interposed Sawyer. 
“Look at the s : ck kekt^i a j )’ see what 
prices he gets for his cows and oxen. We laugh¬ 
ed at him when he paid so much for the new 
breeds of sheep and cattle he got some years ago; 
but jes’ look at ’em now. Why, he tells me he’B 
cleared over a thousand dollars this year on his 
stock.” 
At this moment Mr. Walton came in. He had 
grown older, and was somewhat stouter, than 
when he first settled upon the ridge, and became 
a farmer; aud his neighbors had ceased to ques¬ 
tion his capacity, and had come to honor and 
respect him. 
“ We was just talkin’about you, Mr. Walton,” 
said Sawyer. 
“Ah,” returned John, as he took a seat by the 
fire. “I hope you found nothing had to say of 
me.” 
“Not a bit of it. We was talkin’ about the 
wonderful improvements you’ve made on the 
old place, and of the money you make.” 
“And do you think it wonderful ?” 
“ But ain't it?” 
“Well,” replied Walton, “I don’t know about 
that; but I’ll tell you what -1 do know. I know 
there is no class of people in the world who may 
study the arts and sciences to better advantage 
than furmers ? aud yet, I ain 6orry to Bay, there 
is no class, occupying the same social position, 
who read and study less. Farming is a science 
— one of the most deep and intricate — and he 
must be alman of more than ordinary capacity 
who can master it all. I have hut just begun to 
learn what may be learned in farming. In short, 
there is no branch of Industry in the world 
which may not be followed to better advantage 
without a good education. But farmers must 
not be afraid of books. They won’t, if they are 
wise, follow every advice which experimentalists 
give, but they may study, and reason, and ex¬ 
periment for themselves. So I have done, and 
so I mean to do." 
“He's right,” remarked Ben Grummet, alter 
Walton had gone. “ What fools we was that we 
didn’t go into that graftin’ operation.” 
“And that underdrainln’,” added Bancroft. 
“And that muck and compost arrangement,” 
suggested Sawyer. 
“Well," said Ben, with a feerious face; “it 
isn’t loo late now. They say, it’s never too late 
to learn; and I’m sure it hadn’t ought to he 
. . . . . a _ t _ .n__ .1 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of S 8 letters. 
My 23, 50, 39, 43, 79, 78,17 a garment. 
My 88 , 57. 82, 59, 40. 24, 22, 55 is a kind of fish. 
My 02, 35, 00, 40, 20, 53, 41,10,14 is a musical instru¬ 
ment. 
My 30, 05, 07, 34, 48, 42 Is a girl’s name. 
My 49. 3, 51, 17, 52 is the root of all evil. 
My 08, 8 . 75. 27, 15, 61, 47. 23. 44, 64, 4,13 is a species 
of the cactus family. 
My 30. 74. 86 , 40,11, 85,11, 80, 83, S2,63, 84,56 is a kind 
of fish. 
My 77, 27. 48, 50. 25, 38, 45. 50 is the name of our 
teacher. 
My 1, 07, 4S, 74, 20 is the name of a Federal General. 
My 6 . 56. 88 . 2, 66 , 70, 40,18, 7, 51 wsb a lover of truth. 
My 80, 76, 28, 29, 56, 52 is a proper noun. 
My 57. 46, 9. 40, 21, 31,12, 20, 84. 09 is a name given to 
subterranean beings. 
My 56, 85, 37, 20, 87. 47 is the town in which we live. 
My 87, 24, 75, 77, 10, 59. 79 Is one Of the planets. 
My 67, 72. 48. 1, 31 5s the name or a sea. 
My 40, 3, 5S, 59, 36 is a species of plant. 
My 43, 72, 73, 40,19 is an article of food. 
My 0. 81, 90. 09, 59 was a Grecian poet. 
My 38, 31,14, 46, 00 is a sort of twig. 
Sly whole is an extract from Bryant. 
Van Buren Co,, Mich. Hattie & Lizzie. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ANAGRAM. 
Ihkn't ofr yelsfht—eon odgo eiad 
Tub nokwn ot eb hient won, 
Si trebet. ahnt a nohtdasn eelgnad 
Rmfo eelfld yb hosert wonB. 
Bellevue. Ohio. Florence Adams. 
pw Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &e., IN No. 796. 
Answer to Illustrated RebusSecession, disunion 
and disruption, who can interpret them. 
Answer to Miscellaneous EnigmaHope on, hope 
ever. 
Answer to Geographical EnigmaThe History of 
All Nations. 
Answer to Anagram: 
Do good, do good, ..here's ever a way, 
A wav where there’s ever a will; 
Don’t wait till to-morrow, but do it to-day, 
And to-day. when the morrow comes, still. 
If you've money, you're armed, and can find work 
enough 
In every street, allev and lane: 
If you've bread, cast it off, aud the waters, though 
rough, 
Will be aure and retnru it again. 
Answer to Mathematical Problem: —Paid for all 
$340; horse, $14,0: ox, $00; cow, $40. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
Tins LABGEST-entetTLATrae 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper 
19 published eveby saturdat by 
D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court Home, Buffalo St 
-• 
TERMS, IR AEVARCE: 
Three Dollars n Year—TO Clubs and Agents as fol- 
l#wsFive Copies one year, lor $14; Seven, and one free 
to Club Agent, lor $19; Ten, and one tree, for $25, and 
aay greater number at the same rate—only $.250 per copy. 
Club papers directed to inrllvtdnalB and sent to as many 
different PostrOtficea as desired. As we prepay Aineri- 
ian postage on copies sent abroad, $2.70 is the lowest 
Club rate for Canada, and $3.50 to Europe,—bnt during 
the present rate of exchange, Canada Agent* or Sub¬ 
scribers remitting tor the Rural In bills ot 'heir own 
specie-paying banks will not be charged poruge. Tire 
best way to remit la by Draft on New York. (!•'“>- cost of 
exchange,)—and all drafts made payable to the order of 
the Publisher, may bx mailed at ais risk. 
|3r*The above Terms and Rates must be strictly ad¬ 
hered to so long as published—aud we trust there will be 
no necessity for advancing them during the year. Those 
who remit less than specified price for a club or single 
copy, will be credited only as per rates. Persons sending 
less than full price for this volume will find when tbetr 
subscriptions expire by referring to figures on address 
label—the figures Indicating the No. of the paper to 
which they have paid being given. 
The Rural for Soldier*. &c.-We will send the 
Rural to Soldiers in the Union Array (or tothetamily 
ol any volunteer in the army,) at the lowest club rate- 
only $2.50 pc-r copy, We are sending the panel tree to 
many Army Hospitals, and wish we could afford to do 
more for both tbe well ftttd sick and wounded soldiers. 
Bnck Numbers of this Volume can still be fUT- 
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exhausting our edition, and hence those who wish Uie. 
volume complete should not delay their orders. 
Addition* to Clubs are alwayB In order, whether in 
ones, twos, fives, tens, twenties, or any other number. 
Subscription? can commence with the volume or any 
number; bnt the former Is the best tune, and we shall 
send from It for some week*, unless specially directed 
otherwise. Please M make a note of It.” 
Change of Address.- Subscribers wistiipgthe ad¬ 
dress of their papers changed from one Post-Omc. to 
another, must specify the ol<1 address as well as the new 
to secure compliance. IK*This change of address In¬ 
volves time and labor, as tbe transfers roust be made on 
books aud in mailing-machine type, for wbteb we must 
pav clerks and printers. We cannsL afford ttvta'-xpeaae, 
ana hence charge 25 cent* for each change ol address 
Direct to Rochester, N. Y,-Persons baring occa¬ 
sion to address tbe KoraL Nsw-YORKDB will please 
direct to Rochester, N. Y., and not as many do, to New 
York, Albany. Buffalo, &c. Money letters Intended for 
ns are almost dally uiAlled to t he above places. _ 
TYURDSALI/S ARNICA LINIMENT 
** AN INEALLIABLE OURE 
For Bdrxs, Scalds, Sprains, Berth atism. Gdh Shot 
Wouxdb.Paiss In tiie Limbs and Back, Chilblains, 2kc. 
A SINGLE APPLICATION 
allays the pain from a burn or scald the instant It Is ap¬ 
plied. No family should be without it, 
UT For sale by all Druggists. i90-13t 
HALSTED ’ 3 
PAT. IMPROVED 
HORSE HAY FORK. 
gsr Town, County and State rights for sale. Agents 
wanted. Aifdress A. HI. IIALSTEI), 
595 No. 07 Pearl Street, Few York. 
BEST FARMING LANDS in the WORLD 
FOB SALE BY Tlllo 
ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD CO., 
In Tracts to suit Purchasers, AT LOW PRICES. 
THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD COM PAST HATE FOR SALE, 
900,000 ACRES of tlie best Farming Lands in the Country. 
The road extends from Dunleitb, in tbe north-western part of the State, to Cairo, in the extreme southern 1 
part with a branch from Centraiia, one hundred and thirl 011 miles north ef Cairo, to Chicago, on the shore ol ! 
Uke’ Michigan_altogether a length of 704 milM-ttnd the laud which is ottered for sale is situated upon either 
side of tho track, in no instance at a greater distance than fifteen miles. 
State of Illinois. 
The rapid development of Illinois, its steady increase iu population and wonltb, and Ka- capacity to produce 
cheap rood, are matters for wouder and admiration. The United States Commfrelonor of Agriculture estimates 
Ihe amounts of the principal crop?, of 1$C4, for the whole country. as follows: Indian corn, 530,581,403 bushels; 
wheat 1 (iO, 695,B23 bushels; outs, 170,000,061 bushels; of which the farms Cd Illinois yielded 138,356,135 bushels . 
of Indian corn; 33,371.173 bushels of wheat; and 24,273,761 bod,els of oats-lu reality more than one fourth of [ 
ihe corn, more than one-fifth of tho wheat , ami almost one so\ nth of the oats produced hi all the United i tales. 
Grain Stock Raising. 
Pre-eminently the first In tho list of grain-exporting Hates, Illinois Is also the great cuttle Mate of the l 
Union Its fertile prairies ore well adapted by nature to the rasing of cattle, sheep, horses and mules; mid in j 
the important interest of pork packing, it is far in advance of every other State. Tho seeding or these prairie 
lands to tame grasses for pasturage or hay. otters to farmers with capital the most profitable results. Ihe | 
bay crop or Illinois in 1864 is estimated at 2,106,725 tons, which is more than half a million tons larger than the 
crop of any other State, excepting only New York. 1 
Inducements to Settlers. 
The attenbon of persons, whose limited means forbid Urn purchaso of n homestead in the older States, is 
particularly.invited to th. se lands. Within ten years the Illinois Central Railroad Company has sold 1,400,000 
acres, to more than 20,000 actual settlers: and during the last year 264,422 acres-a larger aggregate or sales 
than in any one year since the opening Of tlm road. The farms are sold in tracts of forty or eighty acres, 
suited to the settler with limited capital, or in larger tracts, ns may bo required by the capitalist and slock 
raiser. The soil is of unsurpassed fertility ; tbe climate is healthy ; taxes aro low ; churches and schools 
are becoming abundant throughout the length and breadth of the State ; and communication with all the great 
_t/s __..t.utr itii'mifvVi rriilrnnrlc r.iri.'tlti ,'liul f*ir<?rs. 
