Written tor Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
beyond the shadow. 
BT OLOFFK TON KORTLAKPT, 
Tint yellow forehead of tbe King of Terrors is often 
ilie -worth that never cites tins the 
orettlestVam™ bkiu imaginable-Death is but tiie re- 
verse Tide of an Arras, afiwoven p guv designs, repr* 
sent ins the innocem pastimes ol Arcadia, and the lives 
of gods aSdffoddessee.- George Augustus .Vila. 
Imagination love? 
To hover on the earth-bank of the stream 
That ’neath the heavy overhanging houghs 
Of cypress, ami through drooping willow groves, 
Where hut in faintness can earth's sunligh gleam, 
Forever silent flows. 
There its ail-potent wand 
Conjures bright visions from beyond the shades, 
Where Limitless Perfection holds her sway, 
And rules those heanty-realme with love-light hand: 
When softest music in the flowery glades 
SoothcB all earth-care away. 
The ever-murmuring fount 
Of youth perpetual mingles its sweet tone 
With rippling of the river of Life Eteroe: 
The sun stands beautiful upon the mount 
Of day with glowing feet, and winter’s moan 
Grieves never, sad and stern. 
The gay SprlDg flowers fade not: 
The gorgeous Summer, clad in golden dress, 
And grand old Autumn, with its soberer mould, 
Borrow from heaven to deck each fairy spot, 
And gentlest breezes tell of lovellneeB 
That never can grow old. 
They whom.in years agone 
We loved and loet, dwell in that fair, blest land, 
And we, on the death-river’s hither shore, 
Strain aching tear-blind eyes, with sad heart-moan, 
Through ever-during iark of the Beyond, 
For gleams of Evermore. 
There is eternal peace: 
And yet by dark-winged Asrael none may pass 
Save in pure;garb of immortality. 
But ever shall earth’s unrequitings cease 
In that Home Country, whelmed in glorionsness 
Of Heaven's Infinity. 
an agreeable distraction, had given up her soul 
to the sweet emotion of pleasure. Fonrose, 
who had seen her approach and seat herself tin¬ 
kler a willow to listen to him, pretended not to 
have observed her. He seized, without affecta¬ 
tion, the moment for his retreat, and measured 
the 6peed of his flock 60 as to meet her on the 
descent of the .hill where their roads crossed 
each other. He gave her but a single glance, 
and continued his way as if only occupied 
with the care bf his flock. But what beauty 
that look had surveyed! What eyes! what a 
divine mouth! But these features, so noble 
and so touching in their lan'guor, mr ch 
more ravishing would they be if love reani- 
“ You are very good,” replied Fonrose, “but 
is it for you to believe that nature refuses every¬ 
thing to’the shepherds ? Were you horn to he 
a Queen?” 
Adelaide ’reddened' at this response, and 
changed the subject, 
“ The other day,” said she, “ you accompanied 
my voice upon the hautboy with an art that is 
wonderful in a simple guardian of the flocks.” 
“It is your voice,” said Fonrose,” “that is 
a prodigy in a simple Shepherdess.” 
“ But has no one instructed you ?” 
“ Like yourself, 1 have had no other guides 
than my heart and my ear. You saDg, I was 
touched —what my heart felt my hautboy ex¬ 
mated them ! & It was easily seen that sorrow pressed-my soul inspired it -you have my 
alone had tarnished in their springtime the roses sucret -nothing in the woild is e sa . 
of her beautiful cheeks. But among so many “It is incredible, Ad - • 
charms that which had moved him most, was “ That is what I said in listening to you, ie- 
ITS degree of to aud to walk. P>M Fo.veose, “ »d yet I mutt Meed Hm 
lYinVPTnfiTlt S could onlv be it. What would you have? Nature and love 
JS'tflKg ffolltfL 
SHEPHERDESS OF THE ALPS. 
Translated from the French lor the Rnral New-Yorker 
By O. 0. B. 
[Continued from page 276, last number.] 
The first days he permitted his sheep to wan¬ 
der where they* chose, being only attentive to 
discover the places where the Shepherdess took 
here. 
“Let’s manage a little,” said he, “ the timid¬ 
ity of ;this solitary beauty; if she is unhappy 
her heart has need of consolation; if she has 
only an aversion to the world, and a taste for a 
tranquil and innocent life is all that detains her 
in these places, she must have moments of 
ennui , when the wguld desire society that could 
amuse or console her —let us leave her to seek 
mine. If I can succeed in rendering myself 
agreeable, my society will soon become a neces¬ 
sity to her—thdn I can take counsel ae to tbe 
situation ot ber heart. After all, here we are 
alone in tbe world, and we will do everything 
for each other. From confidence to friendship 
is not far, and, at our age, from friendship to 
love the step is still more easy.” 
And what was the age of Fonrose when he 
reasoned thus? Fonrose was eighteen years 
old; but three months of reasoning upon tb» 
same subject had well developed his ideas! 
While he yielded himself up to thoughts like 
these, with hi> eyes wandering over the country, 
he beard all at once in the distance, that voice 
whose charms he had heard so much bepraised. 
The emotion it caused him was as strong as 
unforseen. 
“It is here,” said the Shepherdess in her 
plaintive song, “ it is here that my heart enjoys 
the only pleasure that remains to it. My sor¬ 
row has- delights for my soul; I prefer its bitter¬ 
ness to the deceptive douceurs of joy.” 
These accents rent tbe sensitive heart ol 
Fonrose. 
“What,” said he, “can be the cause of the 
chagrin which consumes her? How sweet it 
would he to console her!” 
A sweeter hope still dared hardly flatter his 
desires. He feared to alarm the Shepherdess if 
he gave away imprudently to his impatience for 
a nearer view, and it was enough lor the first 
time to have heard her. The nest day he went 
to the pasturage, and observing the road she had 
taken, he placed himself at the foot of a rock 
alone had tarnished in their springtime the roses £ 
of her beautiful cheeks. But among so many 
charms, that which had moved him most, was 
the noble elegance ef her figure and her walk. 1 
The suppleness of her movements could only be i 
compared to the young cedar, when its straight < 
and flexible stems yield luxuriously to the 
zephyrs. This] image which love engraved in 
lines of flame upon his memory, took possession 
of his whole mind. 
“How feebly,” said he, “have they painted 
to me this;beauty, unknown to the world whose 
adoration it merits ! And she inhabits a desert, 
with only a thatch to shelter her! She, who 
ought to have'Kings at her feet, to be occupied 
with the care of a vile flock! Under what vest¬ 
ments is she offered to my sight! yet she em¬ 
bellishes all and nothing can detract from her. 
And what a life for so delicate a body!—gross , 
food !—a savage climate!—straw for a bed! 
Great God! and for whom were these roses 
made? ' Yee, I must draw her out of this condi¬ 
tion, all too miserable, and too unworthy ofher.” 
Sleep interrupted his reflections, but did not 
efface the image. Adelaide, on her side, sen¬ 
sibly struck by the youthfulness and beauty of 
Fonrose, could not cease to admire the caprices 
of fortune. 
“Where does nature go,” said she, “to get 
together to many talents and so many graces ! 
But alas! these gifts which to him are sidlply 
useless, would, perhaps, prove a misfortune to 
him in a more elevated position in life. What 
ills has not beauty caused in the world! Unfor¬ 
tunate! is it for me to attach any price to it?" 
These desolating reflections came to poison in 
her soul the pleasure she had tasted. She re¬ 
proached herself for having been sensible to the 
impression, and resolved to refuse herself iu the 
future. The next day Fonrose believed he 
could see that she avoided his approach, and he 
fell into a mortal sadness. 
“Cau she suspect my disguise?” 6aid he, 
“ have 1 betrayed myself?” 
This inquietude occupied him the whole day, 
and his hautboy was neglected. Adelaide was 
not so far off but that she could easily have 
heard him, and his silence astonished her. She 
began to sing, herself: 
“ It Eeems,” said the song, “that everything 
which surrounds me partakes’ of my ennui. 
There is heard from the birds only accents of 
sadness; echo responds to me only by complain¬ 
ings; the zephyrs moan umong the loljngv, and 
the murmur of the streams imitates so well ray 
sighs that one would say they flowed in tears.” 
Fonrose was bo much affected by these songs 
that he could not help responding. Never was 
there a concert more touching than that of his 
hautboy with the voice of Adelaide. 
“ O, Heaven,” said she, “ is this enchantment! 
I cannot believe my ears. It is not a Shepherd, 
it is a God whom I have heard. Could the 
natural sentiment of harmony inspire such 
i chords ?” 
As she spoke thus, a rustic, or rather a divine 
s melody, made the valley resound again. Ade¬ 
laide believed she saw realized the prodigies 
• which Poesy attributes to Music, her brilliant 
i sister. Confused and speechless, she did not 
know whether she ought to conceal herself, or 
- yield to the enjoyment of this enchantment. 
But she soon perceived the Shepherd, whom she 
had beard, reassembling his flock to return to 
the cabin. 
> “ He is ienorant,” said she, “of iffe charm he 
spreads around him; his simple soul is not then 
vain; he doc6 not even await the eulogiums 
s which I owe him. Such is the power of music, 
f It is t he only one of all the talcnte which enjoys 
r itself—all the others wish for witnesses. This 
l gift of Heaven was accorded to man in inno- 
t eency— it is the purest of all pleasures. Alas! 
1 it is the only oue left for my enjoyment, and I 
. regard the Shepherd as a new echo which comes 
it. What would you have ? Nature and love 
sometimes make a sport of uniting all that they 
have which is most precious, in the most hum¬ 
ble fortune, to show that there is no condition 
they cannot ennoble.” 
During this conversation they advanced into 
the valley, and Fonrose, animated by a ray of 
hope, filled tbe air with the joyous sounds with 
which pleasure inspired him. 
“ Ah! for mercy's sake,” said Adelaide, 
“ spare to my soul the importunate image of a 
sentiment which it must not enjoy. This soli¬ 
tude is consecrated to sorrow; its echoes are 
not accustomed to repeat the accents of profane 
joy; here everything mourns with me.” 
“ I, too, have enough to complain of,” replied 
care was to bury my shame with him—my own 
hands dug his grave. I do not seek to soften 
your heart, but that moment which shall com¬ 
pel me to separate on earth from the sad remains 
of my husband will be a thousand times mote 
terrible to me than that can be which will sepa¬ 
rate my body from my soul. Exhausted by bod 
row aud the lack of food, it required two days 
of inconceivable pain for my feeble bands to dig 
this grave. When my strength abandoned me, 
I would repose myself upon the livid and glacial 
bosom of my husband. At last I rendered him 
the duties of sepulture, aud my heart promised 
him to await in this place the hour when death 
should re-unite us. In the meantime a cruel 
hunger began to devour me. I considered it a 
crime to refuse to nature the sustenance of a life ii! 1 » 
more painful than death itself, i changed my 
clothing, for the simple dress of a Shepherdess, American wcrd> andVmdulPlaute. i 75 
and I embraced the position as my only refuge, 'jein.^risVv.niu'rt'r'l companion. 2 oo 
Since then my only consolation has been to EcJmoror:"!! ”! 1!!! i!1M 
come and weep over this tomb, which will also Assistant:::::::::*.: 2M 
be mine. You see,” continued she, “with what Brandt's Age of Horse* (English and German). ^ 50 
sincerity I have opened my heart to yon. lean y^BtVFm'wciGardcuinrcc'tory..,... 150 
weep with you hereafter in liberty-it is a solace V ‘‘£.” 1! ” i4 | 
that I need - but I expect from you the same C 75 
confidence. Do not believe yon have deceived cole’a CS-,W.> AmericanFruttBooK.. 4 60 
me. 1 see clearly that the duties of a Shepherd co?t«n 1 Plan»re n M«nual (Turner)"..’.. l so 
areas strange, to you as to myself, and much fGM.H?toHcfeleDoomr!!!'.!!'! 1l 50 
newer. You are young, sensitive perhaps, and D a a.i> Aimiomyot^Uie Horse (colored). “ jjj 
if I may believe my conjectures, our misfortunes s SS 
have had tbe same source, arfil, like mo, you ^Atwood o» cranberry... , 75 
have loved. We shall he only the more compas- KjHott^w^ternF ;;;;;;;;;; 50 
& innate for each other. I regard you us a friend F r en ch ^ 
whom Heaven, in mercy to my sufferings, lias fiklC atam-\..„. .. t <» 
designed to send to me in my solitude. Look yJja'.iVincti Cowhand Dairy Farming. 200 
upon me as a friend capable of giving yon, if "i:::i 1 iig 
not salutary counsels, at least consoling exam- Qoodalo’s Principles ot Breeder,..,. 1 * 
j , o Qray’e How Plants Grow.......,,. 1 *“ 
pies.”—[Concluded next week. Guenon on Milch Cows.. <5 
1 L Harasrthy Grape Culture, Ac... 5 00 
--- 1 • Hurlin' Inlnrton* Insect*, plain $3,50; colored. 4 50 
. , Herbert's Htnw io|Uorsekeepm. J ‘J 
t55*“The robber Time, that steals the sweetness amt* to Riflemen, by Cleveland .. l so 
from all fn.it, and dower,, is MM by Phalorf, . | 
“ Night Blooming cereus.” its aroma is less ^HonepBSm::::: fS 
perishable than that offoreign extract, essenceor LimclrnFa toBu Ufl Iffi-bonseB. \ jjj 
toilet water, and incomparably more delightful. Illustrated Horse Doctor!"'.'.!!!.!.!!!!.. 8 50 
_ ,, , MaYbew‘» Illustrated Hume Management...... 8 50 
Sold everywhere. McMahon'* American Gardener. 2 75 
(^OOD BOOK.S. 
FOE FAEMEES AND 0THEES. 
ORANGE JUDD, 
AGRICULTURAL ROOK PUBLISHER, 
41 Park Row, New York, 
Publishes and supplies Wholesale and Retail, 
the following good Books: 
SPECIAL NOTICE—Any of thine IMoU» will be 
sent Post-Paid, to nny part of the country on receipt 
of the nnnexed price. 
American AzrlculturiBt....................-per year *1 50 
the young man; and these words uttered with a upon me as a friend capable of giving yon, if 
. 1 A .. ..1- A 1 nnnr- IV OVO m - 
which the day before hud repeated the sounds of to respond to my sorrow 
her touching voice. I have forgotten to say that 
Fonrose had the handsomest face in tbe world, 
joined to talents, which the young nobles of 
Italy do.not neglect. He played the haut-boy 
like Befozzi himself, from whom he had taken 
lessons, and who was then enchanting all 
Europe. Adelaide, more profoundly absorbed 
by her afflicting ideas, had not yet made her 
voice heard, and the echoes remained silent. All 
at once this silence was broken by the plaintive 
sounds of the hautboy of Fonrose. These un¬ 
known sounds excited in the bouI of Adelaide 
intense surprise mingled with agitation, I roin 
the guardians of the flocks which wandered over 
the hills no sounds had ever been heard save 
those of their rustic horns. Motionless and at- 
The following day Fonrose affected in his turn 
to bold himself aloof. Adelaide was afflicted. 
“ Fate,” said she, “ seems to have been spar¬ 
ing to me, even of this feeble consolation; I 
have yielded to it too easily, and in punishment 
I am deprived of it.” 
Finally one day when they met upon the hill¬ 
side, pbe said to him, 
“Shepherd, do you take your flocks very 
far?” 
These first words of Adelaide startled Fon- 
rose bo much that they almost took away the 
use of his voice. 
“ I do not know,” said he, hesitatingly, “ I 
never conduct my flock, it is my flock which 
leads me; they know these places better than I 
tentive, she sought with her eyes the author of do, and I leave them to choose the best pastur- 
such sweet accords. At a ‘distance she perceived age.” 
a young Shepherd seated in the hollow of a rock, 
at the foot of which his flock was grazing. She 
approached him to hear better. 
“Behold,” said she, “what the instinct of 
nature alone can do! The ear indicates to this 
Shepherd all the niceties of art. Could any one 
produce purer tones? What, delicacy in the in¬ 
flexions ! What variety in the shades of expres¬ 
sion ! c . Let any one say after this that taste is 
not, a natural gii\ !” 
Since Adelaide had dwelt in this solitude, it 
was tbe first that*her sorrow, suspended by 
age." 
“Where are you from, then?” asked the 
Shepherdess. 
“I Baw the light across the Alps, there,” re¬ 
plied Fonrose. 
“Were you born among the Shepherds?” 
continued she. 
“ Since 1 am a Shepherd,” said he, lowering 
bis eyes, “ it must be that I was born to he one.’ 
“ That is what I doupt,” said Adelaide, ob- 
scrying him with attention; “ yoar talents, your 
language, your air even, all announce to me that 
fate had placed you better.” 
sigh, were followed by a long silence. 1 
“You have cause of complaint!” saitl Ade- ] 
raids. “ Is it of men ? Is it of fortune ?" 
“Ido not know,” said he, “but I am not 
happy; ask me no more." 1 
“Listen,” said Adelaide, “Heaven brings 
U6 together to console each other in onr troubles. 
Mine are like a crushing weight- with which my ' 
heart is oppressed. Whoever you are, if you j 
know misfortune, you must be compassionate, , 
and I believe you worthy of my confidence. But 
promise me it shall be mutual.” 
“Alas!” said Fonrose, “my ills are &uch 
that I &ball, perhaps, be condemned never 10 re¬ 
veal them.” 
This mystery only redoubled the curiosity of 
Adelaide. 
“ Come to-morrow,” said she, “ to the foot of 
this hill, uuder the thick old oak, where you 
have heard my meanings. There I will tell you 
things that will excite your pity.” 
Fonrose passed the night in mortal agitation. 
His late depended upon what he was going to 
learn. A thousand terrifying thoughts came, 
turn by turn, to agitate him. He apprehended 
above all the despairing confidence ol an unfor¬ 
tunate but faithful love, 
“ If she loves,” said he, “ I am lost.” 
He went to the place indicated. He saw Ade¬ 
laide arrive. The sky was covered with clouds, 
aud nature, in. mourning, seemed to presage the 
sadness of their conversation. When they were - 
seated at the foot If the oak, Adelaide spoke iu 
these terms; 
“ You see these stones which the grass is be¬ 
ginning to cover. They form the tomb of the 
most tender, the most virtuous of men, who 
lost his life through my love and imprudence. 
I mu a Frenchwoman of distinguished family 
and too rich for my misfortune. The Count 
d’Orest an conceived for me the most tender 
love—I was not inseneiBle toil—I loved him 
to excess. My parents opposed the penchant of 
our hearts, and my insensate, passion made me 
consent to a marriage, sacred to virtuous souls, 
but disavowed by the laws. Italy was then the 
theater of war. My husband went to join the 
Corps which, he was to command. I followed 
nim to Biiouijou— my mad tenderness retained 
him there two dayB, despite himself. This 
young man, bo fuli of honor, prolonged his stay, 
but with extreme reluctance. He sacrificed his 
duty to me; but what had I not sacrificed to 
him ? In a word, I exacted it and he could uot 
resist my tears. He left with a presentiment 
with which I was myself frightened. 1 accom¬ 
panied him to this valley, where 1 received his 
adleux, and then returned to Brian^n to await 
news of him. Rumors of a battle were spread 
about a few days alter. I doubted that Orest an 
had arrived in time — I wished it for his glory- 
I feared it for my love—when one day I received 
from him a letter which I believed 1 should find 
very consoling. ’ 1 shall be,’ said he, 1 on such 
a day, at euch an hour, in the valley and under 
the oak where we parted. I shall come alone, 
and 1 conjure, you to come alone to meet me; I 
can see no other tbau yourself.’ 
“What was my misconception of this letter! 
I could see In it nothing but impatience to 6eeme 
again, and I applauded that impatience. 1 came 
then to this oak. D’Orestan arrived, and after 
the most tender reception, lie said: 
“ 1 Through your wishes,’ dear Adelaide, ‘1 
have failed in iny duty at. the most important 
moment, of my life. What I loured lias occurred. 
The battle took place, my regiment charged—it 
performed prodigies of valor, and I was not 
there. I am dishonored, lost Without recourse. 
I do not reproach you with iny misfortune, but 
1 have but one more sacrifice to make to you, 
aud my heart cornea'to consummate it.’ 
“ At these words, pale, trembling, and almost 
; without breath, I received my husband in niy 
arms. I felt my blood freezing in my veins, my 
knees bent under me, and I tell senseless to the 
ground, lie profited by my fainting to tear 
him&cLf from my arms, and 1 .was ( quiekly re¬ 
called to life by the noise of the discharge which 
; gave death to him. i will not. depict to you the 
situation In which I found myselt — it is iuex- 
• pressible— and the tears which you see flow, the 
r sobs which choke my voice, are but a feeble im- 
1 [ige of it. After passing a whole night, w ith his 
bleeding body iu a stupid kind of grief, my first 
not salutary counsels, at least consoling exam¬ 
ples.”—[Concluded next week. 
!£:omn’ 101 tlw ffflttttg. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 27 letters. 
My (i. 17, 2fi, 15 is a hard metifl. ’ 
My 20, 0,11, 5,16 is used ih the evening. 
My 22,14, 2rt, 7 is also used in the evening. 
My 1. 28,17 is a production, of some of the Southern 
States. 
My 3 23,17, 20 is an English title. 
My 20, 25,15,19,14, 20, 27 was the originator of my 
whole. 
My 17, 26,10, 4 should be used for J. D., Esq. 
My 27. 6,12, 25, 18, 15 is saved, thank God I 
My 7. 20.17, 24, 2,-8, 23, 17,14, 20, 9, 15, 21 is one of 
the Uni led StateB. 
My 10, 0, 20,11,19, 3 is a grand residence. 
My 111, 26,17, 7 is a kind of gi^in. 
My 21, 7, 27,18, 4 is a girl's name. 
My 10, 20, 0, 24, % is used at the table. 
My x, 2, 23,13,17 Is an article of fhrnitnre. 
My IS, 2, 25,14 is a Stale. 
jfy 6. 23 ,16, 25,12,14, 20 is where business of State 
is transacted. 
My 2, 4, 22,16 is in demand by the North. 
My whole brought joy to thousands. 
West Springfield, P«. Annie. 
E2T Answer in two weeks. 
-- 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
In ages past there lived a man, 
(Perhaps you’ve heard before,) 
With live fair daughters was he blest, 
Of sons he had but four. 
And when he thought the time had come 
For him to leave this band, 
He called together all his friends 
And thought to will his land. 
The difficulty now arose, 
To equally divide, 
because his farm was circular, ■ 
And had not one straight side. 
Six hundred acres had this man, 
Ae I have oft been told; 
The plan by which ’twas measured out 
Was novel, If 'twas old. 
A perfect circle each son had. 
As large as could be made, 
Each one drawn tangent to the next, 
Or so at least ’twas said. 
• Four outer portions now remained, 
Four daughters each lmd one, 
The portion In tho center left 
The fifth girl shared alone. 
Now, scholars, pray your skill display, 
And answer me in rhyme; 
Tell bow much ground this fifth girl found 
- Was left her at this time. 
Oneida, Mich. t D ' B ‘ 
---- — 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
. AN ANAGRAM. 
Ho hyw soludb tch stirip fo lamtro eb dorup? 
Kile »1 Wief getolfln roetem a staf-gylfin docul, 
A shill r fO bet nllgthing a kreab of eth vaew, 
Eh baphevt raorf lcif ot leh sert ni hte verga. 
Chaunccy, Ill. Harry. 
0ST“ Answer In two weeks. 
ANSWER TO ENIGMAS, Ac., IN No. 813. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:.—nonesty 1 b the 
best policy. 
Answer to Algebraical Problem :-The traveler was 
8 miles from Lansing, and Grand Ledge is 12 miles 
from Lansing. 
Answer to AnagTutn: 
There was a man in Itichinond town, 
And Yankees came to nab him, 
He dumb tip to tbe chimney top 
And saw they meant to grab him; 
he got down on 'joiher side, 
Aud then they couldn't find him; 
He rode an fast ae he could ride, 
Aud never looked beUind him. 
Answer to Kiddle :—Letter A. 
Leuchar'e How to Build Hot-ticmseB. 1 50 
Llnsdey’e (P. CO Morgan Home*... 1 50 
Mayhew'a Illustrated Horse Doctor.. . 3 50 
Maytiew’a Illustrated Hurae Management. 8 50 
McMahon'* American Gardener. i i» 
Miles on the Horse's loot... w 
Norton’s Bel entitle AgTlonUtire. 50 
Onion Cnlture. very good........ ^ 
Onr Fanil of F<W Acres (bound) 60c; paper. 80 
Pardee on Strawberry Culture. <5 
Fedder’* Land Measurer... w 
Qolnby'a Myaierles of Huu Keeplng. 1 <5 
Rabbit Fancier... 80 
Randall'S Flne^Vool Sheep Uuibandry. 1 00 
Routr* Flowers for Parlor and Garden. 3 OO 
Rivers’ Orcharii House* ....... .. =0 
Sc.hcnck’s Gardener's Text-Book. 60 
Shepherd's Own Book. 
Skillful Howr-wlfe... 75 
Smith'* Landscape... iso 
spencer’s Hducatlou of Children.. 1 50 
Biewurfs (John) Ruble Book. 150 
Ti, h er’V' v.*i>j'i^r!Iii-Vpl ch of AcricnltuVe.. 2 50 
in el pie* of Acrlculture. 2 50 
ltllMM. 1 50 
Thomas’ Krutt Cultui .. 1 50 
Thompson’s Food of Animats. 1 00 
Todd's (S. E.) Young 1- inner b Manual. 1 50 
Vaux’s Villas and ' ottnges. » w 
Warder’s Hedce* sod EvergreenB. 1 50 
WatKOii’B American Homo Uiirdeu. 2 00 
Wax Flower* (Art of Making). 1 
Woodward’s Country-Homes. 1 so 
Yonatt and Spooner on the Horse. } ™ 
Youatt »ml Martin on Cattle. 1 
Youatt on the Hog..••• [ 
VoiiHit on Shv-p .. } 
Yonmans' Household Science . 1 
Youmaus’New Chemistry. . . i ‘ 3 
mHE GREAT HEW-ENGLAND REMEDY 
1 DH. J. W. 1*01.LAND'S 
WHITE PINE COMPOUND, 
Is now offered toihe afflicted throughout the country, 
after having been proved by the lest ot eleven years, .a 
Hie New England Stmts, where Its merit* have become? 
•t* well known a* the tree from which, iu part, It derbes 
its virtues. 
THE WHITE PINE COMPOUND CURES 
Sore Throat , Cold*. Couchs. Diptheria. Bronchitis, 
Snittino of Blood, and Pulmonary AJjtctpn* gene¬ 
rally. It is a remarkable IPmtriy for Kidney 
Complaints, hi,faculty of Voiding 
Urine. Bleeding from the Kidneys and 
Bladder, Gravel, and other 
Complaints. 
For Piles and Scartj it will be Found very Valuable. 
Give It a trial If yon would learn the value ot a good anil 
tried Medicine. It. I* pleaeant, sate, mid sure. 
Sold by Druggists and Dealer* In Medicine generally. 
GEO. tV. StVETT, IU. D.» 
Proprtcior, Huston. Iun.su. 
BHRNU 1 M 8 * VAN SCJ1AACK. Cuioaoo, III. 
JOHN D. PARK, t’lNCixsATI, OHIO. 
S07-6teo GenornI Ageuta for tka " eet. 
kiCHKXKCTADY AGitIC I'L TJ' ® A £ 
n WOK KS. Send for a Circular of fcntfleM Chsln 
and Lever 11 .j r*e-Fowrr.-. Tlireehera and L eueeni, 
Machines, Circular .and Cross-cut Woud-ha«H. Broom 
Corn Scrupere, Ac.. Ae, 6ce advertisement In 
July 1 \ v j^j.|' N b QH OUSE A CO., Schenectady, N. V. 
E DWARD WEIIsTER, Altorucv and Coun- 
Mcilor nt l.uw. Conveyancing and searelie^of 
title to real estate specially attended to, and a limited 
amount of land surveying done In connection therewith. 
Office No. 5, Lyons’ Block, Ro chester, N. Y. [7V7-tt 
t s ODD F4KiMH IN OHIO. — Those wtshluK to 
(j bnj good Improved larm» cheap In Northern fmlo. 
ot any *ue.adapted tor «hecp. youue cattlPjor 
cun receive a Cauhu-ue desorlblnjr each larm a l Rttce 
by luClOHLnir *ump aud addressing H. N ‘ANcROFT, 
Tlfo Real Estate Agent. Jntlerson. Ashtabula u, 
■AKAIN T11.K MACUINK, BKMT lN USB. 
LJUjanuIacturedby a. N. Y 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LAKGKST-CIKOCLATtNO 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper 
IS PUBLISHED KVEltY &ATVBDAY 
BY D. D. T. MOORE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court Bouse, M*l» St. 
TERMS, IN ADVANCE: 
Three Dot I it r* it Year—To Clubs imJ Ast nts^as 
follows:- Five copies one year, for |U; Seven,an 
free to Club Agent, for #19; Ten. and ouo try), 
and any greater Number nt tbe sarno rate — on > j 
copy, Club papers directed to hullvlduals and Ben ® 
many ditfereut Post-Office* an desired. As pre-p^x 
American postage on copies sent abroad. s 
lowest Club rate for Canada, and |3.5« to Europ • 
during the. present rate of exchange, Canada Age 
b'ubacrlbcre remitting lor tbe Rural In btlleo t ,e r 
specie,paying banks will not be charged P°* “£ e ' ()f 
host way to remit ts by Draft on New V ork, , 
exchange,)— and all limit* made payable to t m o 
the Publisher, may tut mailed at Bt» 
BET The above Term* and Rate* m “ Bt ^V^lfwdlbo 
hared WSO long as pnbllahed-aad we t ru* Those 
uu necessity (or advancing them during tlus y . 
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lew than lull price tor thl* volume will find , 
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label -the figur* Indicating the No. of *M P*»>« 
which the, hare paid being given. 
