* 
Written for Moore’s Rnral New-Yorker. 
MY POOR SOLDIER BOY.” 
ternoon, and go over pome new music which she 
has just received from Paris.” 
“Subterfuge! Falsehood!” 1 said in my heart, 
bitterly. I groaned in pain, turning ray face 
away. She naturally mistook the seat of pain. 
It was not in my bead. 
“What can I do for you?” she asked, bending 
over me. 
“ Nothing!” I perceived that my voice was re¬ 
pellent; and I noticed that she lifted herself sud¬ 
denly, and stepped hack from the bed. 
“Julia!” said I, rising up quickly. I was moved 
by au irrepressible impulse to speak. She was 
already half across the room. It was still light, 
and I could see her face distinctly, as she turned, 
with a start Her look was surprised, and the 
hot blood was already mounting to her forehead. 
“ You were out riding this afternoon. May [ ask 
with whom?” 1 had dropped my voice so as to 
control it, and spoke calmly, but with serious¬ 
ness. 
“ Who said 1 was out riding?” She was off her 
guard and showed confusion. 
“Margaret,” 1 replied, still speaking calmly. 
“1 asked for you when 1 came home, and she 
answered that you w ere out riding with a gentle¬ 
man. It is only natural that i should desire to 
know the gentleman’s name.” 
“itwas Mr. Harhaugu.” She rallied herself 
with a strong effort, threw the deeper stains of 
crimson from her face, and tried to smile with an 
innocent air. She was far from being successful. 
My eyes were too keen, 1 had learned to look 
by b w. wminry. 
For Moore'* Rural New-Yorker. 
BIOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
Silently, tenderly. 
More round thi* titer,— 
The nerve* of tny Kjvirit 
Are centering here. 
Silently, tenderly, 
Rear him nwuy, 
Down to his lonely t-ed 
In the cold clay. 
Aye, slowly and sadly. 
Lay in his prave 
The boy I would gladly 
Ilare perished to . 
Onder that coffin-lid 
Lies every joy,— 
Every hope is hid 
There with my boy. 
My once ardent spirit. 
Folding its wings, 
Still to his lov'd body 
Despairingly clings. 
Then bury together 
My hope and tuy joy;— 
My heart, in that coffin 
Clings hi my hoy. 
Alas ( oniel memory, 
Why paint the fair scenes 
’Tween which and the present 
A grave intervenes ? 
Why dwell cm the moment 
He left u bright home, 
Brave hearted and buoyant, 
Far southward to roam. 
A way, among strangers, 
Mid hardship and want 
To battle with dangers 
That stout hearts might daunt. 
Wliy dwell on his sufferings— 
No relative there 
To bathe his hot forehead, 
Or bmdhe out a pray er. 
No sister,—no mother 
To soften his lied;— 
No father,—no brother 
To hold up bis head;— 
Or, with loving converse, 
Beguile the Itmg day; 
Or watch while so slowly, 
The night wore away 
Lay him down tenderly 
To his long rest;— 
Each clod on hi* coffin 
Falls, too, on my liroiwt. 
Calm be thy sleeping,— 
My poor soldier boy, 
I will follow thee, weeping, 
My hope arid tny joy. 
My days of heart anguish 
Awhile I will bide; 
Then lay me down, weary, 
To sleep by thy side. 
1 am composed of 47 letters. 
My 19,-10, 0, 6, 47 is the father of poetry. 
My 18, 47, 40, 12, 9, 36, 17 was the last king of Lydia. 
My 18, 41, 21, 39, 36. 18, 3, 36, 24 wag a celebrated Chinese 
Philosopher 
My 27. 10, 18, 47. 1. 13, 16. 4 was an eminent Grecian Phi¬ 
losopher. 
My 7, 23, 9, 2S, 20 was a celebrated fabnlist. 
My 25, 20, 21, 8, 3, 36, 38, 42 was a celebrated Carthageni- 
an General. 
My 45, 14, 47, 22, 26, 42 was a celebrated Latin Poet. 
My 11, 30,18, 19, 20, 46, 42, 1, 31, 22, 44, 42, 33 was a cel- 
bra ted Sculptor. 
My 2, 32, 42, 42, 3, 7, 15, 29, 12, 34, 43 was the founder of 
the colony of Pennsylvania. 
My 29, 42, 1, 37, 10 was a Greek Philosopher. 
My whole is a Spanish Proverb. 
Oakfield, N. Y., 1863. Albert B. Norton. 
Answer in two weeks. 
her to corne dmvn. There wilb ;i moment or two 
of hesitation about acting on the impulse, and in 
ibiH brief lapse of time the opportunity was 
gone. They went by me like a flash. 
I stood still in a weak, indeterminate state of 
mind, for almost a minute. Then, fearing lest 
some one had observed me and the passing of 
my wife, I started on. There was no use in re¬ 
turning homo. The bird I had been so anxious 
to guard, had opened the cage in my absence, 
and was gone. So, 1 went to ruy place of busi¬ 
ness. A hundred things were thought of and 
conjectured during that unhappy afternoon—a 
hundred expedients for saving my wife from the 
danger that knng over her, determined on and 
then set aside as doubtful. I grew more bewil¬ 
dered— felt more impotent with every passing 
hour. 
I made it a point not to return home until my 
usual time, so that Julia might have an oppor¬ 
tunity to get back before that period, if she wished 
to do so. 1 found her in the parlor, with her 
bonnet throwu off and lying on one of the chairs. 
She cume toward the ball, quickly, to meet me. 
There was a half-troubled, half-assumed look in 
her face, over which she flung a wreath of smiles. 
“Now don’t be angry!” she said, in a coaxing, 
deprecating voice. “I couldn’t help myself! 
The engagement had to he kept. Hut, indeed, 
indeed, there shall he no more of it! It is too 
bad that you should have seen me, when I was 
not, in heart, going against your wishes! I said 
to Mr. Hauuaucih, that it was the last time ho 
must call for me.” 
The Serious look did not die on my face. I 
was too deeply hurt and troubled —the more 
hurl and troubled, that 1 saw through Julia’s 
poor disguise 
, For Mood's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I a* composed of 35 letters. 
My 27, 5, 29, 30, 8, 15, 23 is an animal found in the Far 
West. 
My 21,15, 2, 14, 10, 31, 7, 22, 12 was the most beautiful 
Queen of Egypt. 
My 30, 16, S3, 35, 13 is the prince of thieves. 
My 6, 12, 34, 7, 8, 21, 32, 31, 10, 28 is one of the mysteries 
of childhood. 
My 27, 2, 12, 2S is what young ladies most desire. 
My 25 is short-hand spelling of a familiar word among 
Farmers. 
My 27, 22, 31, 1, 25 was a distinguished Captain of Artil¬ 
lery in the Mexican war 
My 4. 23,19, 17 is a Yankee by word. 
My 20, 3, 8, 24, 11 is the dread of Missippi River Captains. 
My 18 is one of the consonants. 
My 6, 12, 10, 9, 2 by transpewing the 2nd and 3rd letters 
change* from a healing substance to the cause of a 
nation’s disease. 
My whole is the name and place of residence of a noted 
politician Tobt Twinkle. 
Rochester, N. Y., 1862. 
Answer in two wec-Ju 
That wife; must needs lx’ a good 
actor who would deceive a husband Btartlod into 
suspicion as suddenly as 1 had been. 
“My strongly expressed wishes—nay, my posi¬ 
tive injunction—should have had more weight 
with you, than a light and injudicious promise,” 
I answered, with, perhaps, more severity of tone 
than I intended using. 
Site stepped back from me as though I had 
pushed her away. But I did not relax in my 
severity of manner. The affair was too serious 
to be lightly passed over. Then came the wet 
eyes, the hurl look, the down-curved and quiver¬ 
ing lips, the air of injured innocence. 
“You should have said that you were under 
promise to ride out again this afternoon. The 
wife who conceals from her husband anything 
that he has a right to know, acts unwisely, iler 
happiness Is in peril. She is in danger of mis- 
judgment She opens the door lor suspicion.” 
She turned from me, even while 1 was speak¬ 
ing, witii the /jy^of one wrongly accused, and 
walked slowly from the room. I did not follow 
her, hut sat down to think. An hour afterward, 
For Moore'* Rural New-Yorker. 
GRAMMATICAL ENIGMA 
1 am composed of 11 letter*. 
My 1, 2, 3 i* a noun. 
My 4, 6 i* a pronoun. 
My 0, and 7 are vowels. 
My 8, 9, 10, 11 i* a noun. 
My whole i* a lake in North America. 
Kenton Co., Ky., 1803. Mirb Frank Santoro. 
tTif Answer in two week*. 
ORNITHOLOGY 
The Woonsocket Patriot tolls the following 
story of a few I that perched himself upon a wood- 
pile, and appeared to be trying to find his head, 
which had been chopped off half an hour previous: 
“ Last week Mrs. (!., an eldcriy lady of Buriill- 
villc, had occasion to kill and dress a'lbwl for one 
of her neighbors. She went and severed the 
head from the body with a broadaxe, placing the 
For Moore’* Kura] New-Yorker. 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
A and B bought 300 acre* of land for $600, each paying 
$300. V or certain reasons they agree to divide the land 
*o that B should pay 76 cent* per acre more tlian A. How 
much did each man get, and what did he pay per acre ? 
Minneapolis, Minn., 1862. O. H. 8. 
fgf" Answer in two weeks. 
body in a pile of wood while she returned home 
to attend to her household affairs for a short time. 
In about half an hour she went to finish the oper¬ 
ation, when lul there was the rooster, standing 
on the top of the wood-pile, turning his ueek one 
way and the other, while his head lay on the 
ground near by. If any one doubts tiiis story, 
let him call on L. C. Guild, bouse carpenter, ana 
become satisfied of its entire truth.” 
And the Maine Pinner gives the following 
account of an ancient goose: 
“ L. Powers. Esq., of Norridgewock. informs us 
that Mr. Hliphlet Foss, of Brighton, has a goose 
which has attained the venerable age of sixty- 
eight years! Said goose is quite active consider¬ 
ing her age. and until the past year has bud the 
best use oi' her faculties. She now begins to show 
signs of old age; but has, however, not failed to 
bring up a litter of goslings every year, this sea¬ 
son taking care of six, although she laid sixteen 
eggs. This may seem like a < 700 .se story, but 
reliable persons know the exact age of the fowl, 
and there can be no mistake.” 
These are both stories; but we think the roos¬ 
ter a little harder to digest than the Down East 
goose. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MARRYING A BEAUTY. 
For Moore’* Rural New-Yorker. 
ANAGRAMS OF RIVERS. 
CHAPTER II. 
Human nature endures to a certain point, and 
then rebels. I saw myself approaching this 
point, and not without serious apprehension. As 
a husband, it was but meet that I should object 
to certain associations and familiarities that were 
hardly reputable—even if not dangedjhus—for a 
young wife. The gentle hand, put forth to re¬ 
strain, would not do. This had already been at¬ 
tempted. 
Earlier, by two hours, than usual, I came 
home one pleasant summer afternoon, suffering 
from an attack of nervous headache. I was al¬ 
most blind with the pain that pierced one of my 
temples. Entering, 1 passed to the sitting-room, 
then to our chamber, but did not find my wife. 
1 called her name; but there was no answer, 
“She’s gone out riding,” said a servant, who 
had heard me call. 
“Out riding! with whom?” 1 spoke too 
quickly to hide my astonishment 
“ With a gentleman.” 
“What gentleman?” 
“The one that culm’s ’most every afternoon, 
sir. I don’t know his name.” 
“ Oh! very well,” L answered, endeavoring to 
put on an air of indifference, and turning from 
the servant re-entered our chamber, and shut 
the door. 
My whole being was in a tremor of confused 
excitement Some time elapsed before I grew 
calm. My headache was gone. 
“ Out riding with a gentleman almost every 
afternoon!” 1 said to myself, when the rush of 
feeling and confusion were over. “What does 
this mean? Who is the gentleman? Outriding, 
and not a hint of Ike fact to me!” 
It did not look well. There was room for sus¬ 
picion. I could do nothing but wait for wife's 
return; and I waited, iu self-tormenting impa¬ 
tience, for more than two hours, listening to the 
sound of every approaching vehicle,—disap¬ 
pointed a hundred times, as the rattle of wheels 
went by. At last the hour came at which 1 usu¬ 
ally returned home, but my wife was still away. 
Strange doubts and fears began creeping into my 
soul. For a little while J was in most painful sus¬ 
pense. Still 1 hearkened for the pausing of 
wheels; but no carriage stopped. At last 1 heard 
the bell ring. Standing in the hall above, I lis¬ 
tened while the servant went to the door. 
“Has Mr. Marion come home?” it was my 
wifes voice. I did not wait to hear the answer, 
but stepped back to our sleeping room, and 
dropped down on the bod. She came lightly up 
stairs, and seeing me, asked, in surprise, if I were 
1. Send a crumb. 0. U sheer Pat. 
2. Pall rode at Ai. C. Wateeu Ccrl. 
3. O can rna rest. 7. E. Bunds. 
4. 1 call papa hoca. 8. U. A. llaasun, Ksq. 
llunteburgli, Geauga Co., Ohio, 1862. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
TUB LARGE6T CIRCULATED 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
18 PUBLISHED EVERT 8ATUKDAT RT 
D. D. X. MOO HE, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
swer, “I must stand in the way of its attaint 
Vour good name is too precious. I cannot, I 
will not, see it shadowed.” 
“Honor! Good name! Is die man sleeping or 
awake?” She affected to laugh. But the light 
died quickly out of her face, 
“Theyoung wife, who, in the absence of her 
husband during business hours, rides out almost 
daily, with a man ol leisure, is iu danger of hav¬ 
ing light words spoken against her; and your 
good fame is too precious a thing to be left to 
any riska” • 
I emphasized the words “almost daily,” and 
looked keenly at her as 1 uttered them. The 
color, so high a moment before, dropped away 
from her lace—her eyes wavered under my 
steady glance—she turned partly from me anil 
sat down. 1 did not fed angry. Pity was at this 
moment the stronger sentiment—pity for the hu¬ 
miliation with which she seemed overcome. 
“ Remember,” Julia,” 1 said with as much 
tenderness as I could throw into my voice, “that 
I am wholly in earnest. You have boon thought¬ 
less; that is all. But public opinion will judge 
of you more harshly.” 
She sat with her face, still partly averted, quite 
immovable, and without any response. 1 stood 
fora little while, in doubt as to her real state of 
mind, and then went away very much oppressed 
in feeling. 
On returning home at dinner time, she re- 
wived me with a pleasant face. I could detect 
scarcely a line of the hardness and passion which 
bad disfigured it on the evening before. 
“You are, indeed, very, very beautiful 1” 1 
found myself saying, mentally, as I dropped my 
gaze, suppressing an involuntary sigh, from her 
almost radiant countenance. Of course, no 
“It is the tea-bell 1 said. 
“Oh! Is it? 1 didn’t hear.” 
She looked at me for some moments, with real, 
or affected bewilderment, then arose and accom¬ 
panied me down to the breakfasteroom. There 
was no conversation during the meal. 1 think 
each was so much in doubt as to Hie other's true 
state of mind, as to be afraid to touch on any 
theme, lest there should be ajar from some dis¬ 
cordant string. 
I remember that evening as the most unhappy 
one of my life,—1 mean, of my life up to (hut 
period. Julia sat, for most of the time, with a 
novel iu her hand; but, from stealthy observar 
tion of her face, made from time to time, I was 
satisfied that she was talcing little or no interest 
in the pages, that were turned at very irregu lar in¬ 
ter; als. I, also, had sought refuge in a book; but 
there was only the pretense of reading on either 
side. During that memorable evening, I took 
the calmest and soberest possible review of the 
whole ground on which I was standing; und the 
result was a most painful conviction that I had 
brought a thirsty soul unto dry wells—that 1 had 
built up. hastily, a beautiful palace, the founda¬ 
tions whereof rested on sand. 
The J uLi a of my imagination—the pure, ten¬ 
der, wise, perfect being reflected in grace of 
form and transcendent beauty of countenance, 1 
had loved with a sentiment akin to worship. 
But. the real Julia, who had come to me, so 
radiaut, so angelic iu form and feature, from the 
marriage altar, 1 did not, could not love. For 
one of my thought and feeling, there was nothing 
in her to love. Day by day, one distruise after 
LITTLE JOKERS 
THHJtt .V, /JY JO V'JM'CR : 
Two Dollars a Year —To Club* and Agent* as follow*: 
Three Cories one year, for $6; Six, and one free to Club 
a^ent, for $10; Ten, and one free, for $15; and any greator 
number at saint rate—only $1.50 per copy. Club paper* 
directed to individual* and rent to a* many different Post- 
Office* a* desired. A* we Pre-Pay American postage on 
copies scut abroad, $1.62 is the lowest Club rate for Canada, 
and $2.60 to Europe, — but during the present rate of ex¬ 
change, Canada Agents or Subscribers remitting for the 
Rural in bills of thei* own specie-paying banks will not be 
charged postage 
Tub Postage on the Rural New-Yorker is only SM cte. 
per finartcr to any part or tlii* State, (except Monroe coun¬ 
ty, where it goes free,) and 05* cte. to any other Loyal 
State, if paid quarterly in advance where received. 
Tint Cash System i* strictly adhered to in publishing the 
Rural - copies are never mailed to individual subscriber* 
until paid for, : ud always discontinued when Ike subscrip- 
ttun term erpires. lleuce, we force the paper upon none, 
and keep no credit books, long experience haring demon¬ 
strated that the Cash I'lan is the best for hntb Subscriber 
and Publisher. 
Back VOLUME*.— Bound copies of Volume XJIT, for 182, 
will be ready in a few days — price. $3. We would again 
state that neither of the first five toluenes of the Roral 
can be furnished by ug at any price. The subsequent vol¬ 
ume* will be supplied, bound, at $3 each or if several are 
taken, at $2,60 each. The only volumes we can furnish, 
unbound, ipv those at 1869, ’fid, '61 and '62 price, $2 each. 
Additions to Clubs are always iu order, whether in 
ones, twos, fives, teas, twenties, or any other number. 
Subscriptions can commence with the volume or any num¬ 
ber, but the former is the best time, aud we shall send from 
it for some weeks, unless specially directed otherwise. 
Please “make a note of it.” 
Direct to Rochester, N. Y—All persons having occa¬ 
sion to address the Rural New-Yorker, will piease direct 
to Rochester, TV. Y„ aud not, a* many do, to New York, 
Albany, Buffalo, Ac. Money Letters intended for us are 
frequently directed a*d mailed to the above places. 
The Rural ab a Present. -Aay Subscriber wishing to 
send the Rural to a friend or relative, as a present, will be 
charged only $1,50. It is also furnished to Clergymen, 
Teachers and Soldiers at the lowest club rale—$1.60 a copy. 
Our Inducements for obtaining subscribers to the Four¬ 
teenth Volume of the Rural, lor 1803, are of the most 
Liberal and Substantial character. Premium lasts, Show- 
11111*, &c,, sent free to all disposed to act as agent*. 
Art person so disposed ran act us local agent for the 
Rural New-Yorker, and those who volunteer In the good 
cause will receive gratuities, and their kindnesses be 
appreciated. 
No Traveling Agents are employed by us, aa we wish 
to give the whole field to local agent* aud those who form 
clubs. 
C%r See Publisher's Notices on preceding page. 
The crow is a brave bird; be never shows the 
white feather. 
A patient is undoubtedly in a bad way when 
his disease is acute and his doctor isn’t 
Why is a field of grass like a person older Gian 
yourself ?—Because it is paster-age. 
Why is a dull and plausible roan like an uu- 
rifled gun? Because be is a smooth bore. 
A widow, whose lands supply rich grazing for 
a thousand cattle, is an attractive grass widow. 
We are told to have hope and trust; but what’s 
a poor fellow to do when he can no longer get 
any trust? 
“ I say. Bill, Jim’s caged for stealing a horse!” 
“Why didn’t he buy one and not pay for it, like 
any other gentleman?" 
Some women paint their faces, and then weep 
because it doesn’t make them beautiful. They 
raise a hue — and cry. 
“Bobisy, what is steam?" “Boiling water.” 
“That’s right; compare it.” “Positive, boil; 
comparative, boiler; superlative, burst.” 
A new nut-cracker has just been patented; it 
is so contrived as to crack jokes along with the 
mils. A very liberal discount will be allowed 
to extremely depressed persons ordering large 
quantities. 
“Therb has been a slight mistake made here,” 
said tiie house surgeon, “of no great moment, 
though—it was the sound leg of Mr. Higgins that 
was cut off 
We can easily cure the other—comes 
to about the same tiling.” 
A wag wants to know whether, if the devil 
were to die, the newspapers would not eulogize 
his character. If they didn’t, the editors would 
be likely to get unceremonious orders from some 
of the friends of the deceased—“stop my paper.” 
“ I sell peppermints oil Sunday,” remarked a 
good old lady, who kept a chandler’s shop, “be¬ 
cause they carry ’em to church and eats ’em, and 
keeps awake to hear the sermon; but if you want 
pickles, you must come week days. They are 
secular commoditieR." 
