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ROLL-CALL. 
H T S. Ci . 8SEPII8RB. 
“Corporal Green I” the Orderly cried; 
“ Here!” was the aiiRwer loud and dear, 
From the Up* of a soldier who stood near; 
And “ Here!" was the word the next replied. 
“ Cyrus Drew then a silence fell— 
Tliis time no am- wer followed the call; 
Only his rear-man had seen him fall, 
Killed or wounded he could not toll. 
There they stood In the foiling light, 
Those men of bottle, with grave, dark looks, 
As plain to he read a« open books, 
While slowly gathered the shade of night. 
The fern on the hill sides was splashed with blood, 
And down in the corn, where the poppies grew, 
Were redder stains than the poppies knew; 
And crimson-dyed was the river's flood. 
For the foe had crossed from the other side, 
That day, in the face of a murderous fire 
That swept them down in its terrible ire; 
And their life blood went to color the tide. 
"Herbert Cue * !” At the call there came 
Two stalwart soldiers into the line, 
Bearing between them this Herbert Cline, 
WouDdcd ond bleeding, to answer his name. 
“ Ezra Kerr I”—and a voice answered “Here!” 
“Hiram Kerb I” but no man replied; 
They were brothers, these two; the sad wind sighed, 
And a shudder crept through the corn field near. 
“ Ephraim Drank !"—then a soldier spoke; 
“ Dkank carried our regiment’s colors,” he said, 
“ When our ensign was shot; ’1 left him dead 
Just after the enemy wavered uud broke 
“ Close to the roadside his body lies; 
1 paused a moment ond gave him drink; 
He murmured hi* mother’s name, I think; 
And Death came with it and closed his eyes.” 
’Twas a victory—yen; but it cost us dear; 
For that Company's roll, when qalled at night, 
Of a hundred men who went into the fight, 
Numbered but twenty that answered “ Here /” 
[Harper's Alvgaxinc. 
line Mtoxv-fflitUn, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WHO IS THE HEROINE? 
A MOTHER’S STORY. 
It was too dark to see to read, and so they sat 
out upon the veranda, all three of them. Julia, 
Jane and Mary, and talked about the story. 
Since their father's death these were all of my 
family that were left; for Akgylk went away 
years ago and was as dead tons. Jank sat mu¬ 
sing with her book open in her lap, Julia stood 
beside the pillar, with her face toward the west, 
while Mary sat apart, bending over her kitten. 
“ Oh! I wish 1 had her power!” said Jane, “ to 
write with such pathos as to make the keys of u 
thousand hearts echo to the music of your genius, 
to speak to those across distant seas, to convert 
strong minds by your own invincible logic,—this 
is woman's highest destiny.’’ 
‘‘There is but one higher,” said Julia, “the 
gift oF eloquence. We’ve learned that ‘ Elo¬ 
quence rules the earth.’ And that woman whose 
voice, with look and gesture, can charm while it 
convinces,— who can thrill a vast audience with 
emotions which move to nobler alms,—has indeed 
a high and holy mission. Such a one, only, 1 
envy. Such a tame be my guiding star, toward 
which shall steer the ship of my life-purposes.” 
How proud I felt of Julia and Jank! They 
were fine scholars. I spared no pains in their 
education. They wore aspiring. Then, Julia 
was brilliant and beautiful withal. 
Mary still sat stroking her kitten. Mary, by 
the way, was my youngest She was not like my 
other daughters. She was not apt in her studies; 
she was not entertaining in conversation. And 
she was the only homely one of them all. And 
though I am her mother, still it would not be 
natural that 1 should take as much interest in 
her advancement as in the others. I looked for- ( 
word a few years, (as all mothers do, yon know,) 
and 1 fell into a delightful reverie. I saw Julia, 
my queenly Julia, disooureing to an electrified 
audience, moving politicians by the power of her 
genius. 1 saw them listen eagerly to gather 
every word as it fell from her lips, she the center 
of an illustrious circle, all proud of her acquaint¬ 
ance. And Jane 1 saw the dauntless heroine in 
a glorious cause, a benefactress of her race. 
How flattering was tuy picture! 
Willard came in just then. He came in at 
the opposite door, as be usually did, so they did 
not see him. lie motioned to me not to speak to 
them, so they went on with their conversation. 
“1 wonder what the author will do with 
Isabel, — if she is to realize her dreams, or if her 
grand projects arc to be thwarted. She is a tine 
character, that Isabel.” 
“ Yes,” replied Julia, “ she’s my ideal woman. 
Oh 1 it is glorious to have a mission. Our dreams 
are the life-trees of our existence. Even though 
their prophecies are never quite fulfilled, and the 
upward path of Aspiration may lead to Utopia, 
the spirit at least is free, and baptized in the 
glory of a new Idea, shall spread its wings and 
soar to regions l’analethean.” 
“And there will be revealed to the soul its 
mission. Who would not be a heroine? ” 
“ To reveal truth,—be that my destiny.” 
“ And mine.” 
“What is my mission?” Mary' said. They 
looked toward her. 
“Yours! The idea! You!” 
By-and-by Willard went out on the veranda 
too, and there they sat and talked together by 
moonlight Julia was so fascinating that even¬ 
ing. I knew she would charm Willard, he had 
such a finely discerning eye. They conversed 
on history, the ancient and modern state,—on the 
calls of life,—on society, ifs relations, and its 
subtile and conflicting influences. 
A great many evenings passed like that 
Sometimes the three would read together the 
poets, in— I've forgotten the names of the books; 
you know I am not a scholar, and, besides. I am 
growing forgetful. But it was pleasant for me to 
sit and listen to them. I thought 1 should be so 
proud of Willard for iny son-in-law. He was 
a noble and talented man. But 1 was afraid that 
he preferred Jane to Julia. 1 knew Jank would 
be more indomitable, but Julia was so bril¬ 
liant,—would make such a heroio woman. And 
all the rising dews of a mother’s hopes gathered 
and crystallized on Julia, —my queenly Julia. 
But when he came to ask my consent, he asked 
for — Mary! 
I could not understand it—such a high-aiming 
young man as he,—one with such an eye lor the 
beautiful. No, 1 could nut understand it, and I 
was so disappointed it almost made me ill. 
The girls had never made a confident of Mary. 
They almost despised her now—jealousy. I sup¬ 
pose. Such matters are about as they were when 
1 was a girl. 
They were engaged, Willard and Mary. I 
used to wonder what congeniality there could be 
between them. But Mary loved him with all 
her young heart’s devotion. 
A year passed. Willard completed his 
studies, aud was about to commence the duties 
of his profession. They were to be married soon. 
Then the war broke out Among those brave 
young patriots, almost the first to volunteer, was 
Willard! He did not even speak to Mary 
first. 1 suppose he thought his resolution would 
waver, i had heard of it, but she had not I 
supposed it would wither Mart, nerveless child 
as she had always been. (Oh! if in her place 
hud only been the eloquent and patriotic Julia!) 
I was sitting at the chamber window that you 
remember overlooks the veranda, when Willard 
came. Mary was on the veranda. I heard him 
say“ And so we must defer our bridal, perhaps 
for years. You may spurn me, Mary; you may 
despise me, but my country calls me!” 
Mary —she didn’t faint or cry—she smiled! 
“ Willard,” the said. “ 1 am proud of you! Do 
you think I am so selfish and so basely cowardly 
as to stay you ? Go, Willard, with my blessing. 
Bu(, Willard, let our bridal be just before you 
go. I would be a warrior’s bride.” 
For the first time I saw the woman in Mary 
beyond the child. 
Still 1 remonstrated against such a proceeding; 
and 1 Hied to reason with her. I told her he 
would die and she would never see him again. 
“ Then I shall be his widow and I can mourn 
for him! ” 
I could not answer the cliild. 1 told her again 
that he might come home maimed and crippled 
lbr life. 
“ Mother, footless and handless he will still 
have Willard’s soul!” 
And 1 could not answer the child. 
The morning the regiment left they were mar¬ 
ried. Think of my unsophisticated Mary stand¬ 
ing there! 1 never knew before that when her 
heart was inwardly aching she could bear it so 
bravely. 
It. iR a solemn thing to be a bride. She trusts 
as her chilhood trusted, and the waves of remem¬ 
bered melodies in gentle tides wash the shores of 
the beautiful To-Be. Then it is that Romance 
and Reality meet face to face with such a shad¬ 
owy look. Then it is that Wonder runs her 
quizzing fingers over all the keys of the untuned 
future, and lists to hear what note will strike. 
Rut oh! that mute music! Yes, it is a solemn 
thing to be a bride, even when all is prosperous. 
But it was like a funeral the day Mart’s vows 
were said, so soon to be followed by that sad 
good-by. 
Then succeeded those months of peril and 
weariness and suffering to him,— of anxious 
watching to Mary. Then there was a long 
silence, no letters—then came the news of Wil¬ 
lard’s death! ” ’ * The coffin came. How 
our high expectations for him were blasted! 
How sad it seemed that we could not even see 
him! They draped the hearse in the flag of the 
Republic, and the Dead March, with muffled 
drums, floated up through the listening atmos¬ 
phere, as they bore him to his martial sepulchre. 
Mary’s life-star was set. She had no more to 
live for. Her grief was so deep, I thought she 
would die. One day she came aud stood be¬ 
side me. 
“ Mother, I am going to Virginia, too." 
“Mary!” 
“Yes, mother. There is work for me to do 
among the perishing.” 
“Mart,” I expostulated, “I hope the expe¬ 
rience of the past few days has not deprived you 
of your reason, it would be no gain to you or 
me for you fo waste your life, in those hospitals. 
Besides, you are young and inexperienced, and 
inasmuch as you have no husband or brothers in 
the army, it would be the heightof imprudence.” 
Julia added her arguments to mine: 
“I think if I had a spark of aspiration in my 
soul, Fd seek fame elsewhere than in remote and 
filthy hospitals, where one encounters more 
cui’ses than steps one takes. I would not bo so 
groveling in my aims.” 
“Sister Julia,”— she spoke meekly, but so 
firmly,—“ I ask no fame of this world. I am not 
gifted like you. I never expect to be a heroine. 
I never expect to charm the world by eloquence, 
to be praised and blessed by the world, as I 
know you will some day. I only want to do my 
duty. And, mother,’’ here she turned to me, “ 1 
must go. If I die in those hospitals, my country 
demands my little sacrifice. Am I better than 
Willard, mother? Am I better than all the 
legions of the brave and the beautiful that have 
fallen on the battle-fields? No, mother, if 1 can 
relieve one suffering soldier, he shall not die as 
Willard died. Let mo go!” 
I could not answer Mary. 1 looked at her, 
and was astonished. She stood before me, a 
woman, brave, and strong, and dauntless. 
Willard’s mantle has fallen on her. thought 
I. As he entered the Life-Temple, she looked 
in through the gates and heard the Priestess read 
from the Oracle her mission. 
co Mary went. Through gloomy hospitals, 
over battle-fields, among the haunts where the 
dying lay —thither untiring. Could it be that 
my little Mart had a mission after all? 
Kneeling by the sufferer’s couch — so they 
said — bathing his fevered forehead, taking the 
bandage* from the hands of unfeeling surgeons 
to bind them with her own gentle fingers, speak¬ 
ing pleasant words to the weary-hearted, and to 
the homesick one singing the songs of’ his child¬ 
hood,—thus like a spirit she passed. 
Some talked incoherently of “Mother—Moth¬ 
er!” And when they groaned so pitifully, “ Take 
me home!” she made them think they were there. 
And when they would groan, “No one cares for 
me!” she would whisper, “ There's a Friend that’s 
ever near.” Poor soldiers! bow they listened as 
she passed singing, so softly. “ There’s a Friend 
that’s ever near.” 
#«*#**•*» 
The battle had waged hot that day. Thou¬ 
sands fell who would fight their battles no more 
save on the plains of the Infinite. All night 
long the wounded lay in the dreary cold and 
the chilly dew. The night bird's wail in the 
swamp, and the sweep of the distant river, alone 
chanted their lullaby. And many, through suf¬ 
fering, that night fell into that dreamless slum¬ 
ber whose cradle-song is the Hymn of the Flaps. 
When relief came, Mart was there. The 
enemy had been there and borne away his 
wounded and dead. But one soldier lay unno¬ 
ticed by all save her. She wandered thither. 
He was a rebel. He was almost gone. His eyes 
were sunken, aud his life-blood was fast oozing 
away. She applied the lint and bandages, and 
revived him with wine. At last he spoke: 
“Not dead yet, am 1! I might die here, and 
no one would know or care.” 
“ There* a Friend that’s ever near,” said 
Mart, cheerily. 
“Who says that? I have no friend, no home, 
save the spot where I happen to be. 0 God! 
This side! Let me die!” 
“No, you do not want to die. We can help 
you.” 
“Nothing to live for—no parents, no brothers, 
no nothing—unless—yes, i had one once—unless 
she be living." 
Mary opened the locket which had become 
disengaged from his vest,—it was my likeness. 
This was hot brother AkQTle! 
By her patient r are my boy was made well, 
and t hrough her influence he was released and 
permitted to come North. Mart lunged tocome 
with him, to witness my astonished joy; but she 
said her work was not accomplished. My lost 
one found! O, Mary, restorer of my boy, for¬ 
give me for doubting that you had a mission! 
Still to the heavy-hearted she sung of home.— 
still to the deserted she whispered “There’s a 
Friend Ihat’s ever near,’- still beside the dying 
she knelt and talked of Heaven and the love of 
One. 
Still one more death-shaft she was destined to 
avert, one more life-gem tor her crown,—aud j 
that was Willard! 
He was not dead whoin we thought dead. 
One of the same name and friendless was laid in 
the grave that we wept over, while from him, 
wounded, and prisoner, and sick, we heard no 
tidings. 
Argyle and Willard and Mary are all at 
home again. Wiu ari> is so disabled that he 
cannot return now. So Mary’s mission is at 
home, Aruyle’s story is a long and thrilling 
one, and I cannot tell it to you now. But he 
has come home to bless me in my declining 
years. He lias taken the oath of allegiance to 
the Union, aud says he is going soon to fight 
under the Star-Spangled Banner. 
My Mary is a beautiful woman. Beauty had 
her secret dwelling-place within, but lark-like, 
kept it hid till the thought-birds were fledged 
and ready to soar. 
Which is of more worth at the close of life, the 
glittering crown of Cleopatra or that of my 
Mary? 
Show me the conquest* of the great and the 
dazzling, and I will show you the trophies of 
my true woman— my gentle Mary. 
There are lives so insignificant that the world 
bears not of them, yet to know them is to love 
them, for they live but to bless. There is a little 
meadow stream, so small you never see it in the 
geography. But the spring birds lave their 
wings there, and the cattle come and drink there, 
and little children play there, aud flowers nod 
and blaoni beside it, and even the proud trees 
liend kindly over it And everybody loves the 
quiet meadow stream as it goes singing on. ever 
blessing as it goes. 
Can you gather roses on the briny billow? 
Can blue-birds build their nests in the icebergs 
Of the North? Can cool fountains gush from 
Sahara’s burning desert? Yes! gather garlands 
on the ocean's surf, find blue-birds among the 
frozen seas, listen to cooling fountains in Etna's 
burning crater; when upon Ambition’s pinnacles 
the Heart can find its rest, its happiness, its 
home. Lyra. 
Lima, N. Y., 18(53. 
Genius and Literature.— It may be said of 
many truths, that greater intellectual energy is 
required to express them w ith effect than to con¬ 
ceive them; so that a nation which docs not 
encourage this expression impoverishes so far its 
own mind. Literature is the nurse of genius. 
Through this, genius learns its own strength and 
continually accumulates it; and, of course, in a 
country without literature, genius, however lib¬ 
erally bestowed by the Creator, will languish, 
aud will fail to fulfill its great duty of quicken¬ 
ing the mass amid which it lives. 
Tiiuh politeness is as far from affecting gravity 
in the company of the merry as from laughing in 
the presence of the serious. 
Equal 
to any in the World!!! 
MAY BE PROCURED 
At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE, 
Xear Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of Civilization. 
1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80,120,160 Acres and up¬ 
wards, in ILLINOIS, the G-arden State of America. 
The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the beautiful and 
fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their Railroad, 700 MILES 
IN LENGTH, upon themost Favorable Terms for enabling Farmers, Manufac¬ 
turers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for themselves and their fam- 
ilies a competency, and a HOME they can call THEIR OWN, as wiU 
appear from tho following statements: 
ILLINOIS. 
Is about i-qual in extent to F.ngland, wtta & popu¬ 
lation of 1,722,066, and a soli capable of supporting 20,- 
000,000. No S:ale in the Valley of the Mississippi offers 
so great an lndnoomcnt to the settler as Use State of 111 
inois. There is no pari of the world where all the condi¬ 
tions of climate aud soil so admirably combine to pro¬ 
duce those two great staples, Cohn and Wheat, 
CLIMATE. 
Nowhere can the-Industrious farmer secure such ira 
mediate result? from Ids labor as on these deep, rich, 
loamy soils, cultivated with so much ease. The climate 
from the extreme southern part of the State to the Terre 
Haute, Alton uud Ft. Dulls Railroad, a distance of near 
ly 200 Tulles, is well adapted to Winter. 
WHEAT, CORN, COTTON. TOBACCO. 
Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, aud every variety of fruit 
and vegetables is grown In great abundance, from 
which Chicago and other Northern markets are fur 
ntshed from tour to Six weeks earlier than their imme 
dials vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton and Ft. 
Louis Railway and the Kankakee aud Illinois Rivers, 
(a distance of lift miles on the Branch, ami 136 miles 
on tho Main Trunk.) lies tho great Com and Stock rais¬ 
ing portion of the State. 
THE ORDINARY YIELD 
of Corn is from 50 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, 
Horses, Mules, Sheep arid Hops are raised hern at u 
small cost, and yield largo profits. II Is believed that 
no section of country presents greater inducements for 
Dairy Farming than the. Prairies of Illinois, a brunch of 
fanning to which hut liulo attention lias been (mid, and 
which must yield sure profitable results. Between 
the Kankakee aud Illinois Rivers, unit Chicago and 
Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147 
miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Sprlog Wheat, 
Corn, 
OATS, BARLEY, RYE, BUCKWHEAT, 
And vegetables sailed In the dvtUXle, are produc'd in great 
abundance. The northern portion of Illinois is about the 
climate <f Pensyleania, while the southern part hat th< 
climate, cf Kentucky and Virginia, giving <* variety qf 
tempered.ure, in the State, suited to almost every product of 
the. United States. 
AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS. 
The Agricultural products Of Illinois arc greater than 
those of any other Stale, lire Wheat crop of 1861 w us 
estimated at 85,000,000 bushels, while tho Corn crop 
yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the 
crop of Outs, Barley. Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet 
Potatoes. Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clo¬ 
ver, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco, Sorgheim, Grapes, 
reaches, Apples, Ac., which go to swell tho vast aggro 
gate of production in this fertile region. Over Four 
Million tons of produce were sent out tho State of Illinois 
during the past year. 
STOCK RAISING. 
In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advan¬ 
tages are presented for the extension of Stock raising. 
All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep, Hogs, Ac., of 
the best breeds, yield Imudaome profits ; huge forluucs 
have already been made, and the field Is open for others 
to outer with the fa.re.si prospects of like results. Dairy 
Fakmi.no also presents Its inducements to many, 
CULTIVATION OF COTTON. 
The experiments in Cation culture are cf wry great 
promise. Commencing in latitude 39 deg. 30 tain, (see 
MaUtocn on the ISranch, and Assumption on the Alain 
Line), the. Company ' ions thousands 'if acres well adapted 
to the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family 
of young children, can turn their youthful labor to a most 
profitable account in the growth and perfection of this jlant. 
MINING AND MANUFACTURES. 
Die great resources of the Kioto, tn Coal. Iron. load, 
Zlnr, Potter s Clay, Limestone, Sandstone. Ac,, &C , are 
almost untouched ; they await the arrival of enterpris¬ 
ing and energetic men accustomed to convert them into 
gold. 
RAILROAD SYSTEM OF ILLINOIS. 
Railroads intersect the whole State. $115,060,000 has 
been invested in completing the great net work that 
links every part of the Slate into immediate) connection 
with tho surrounding Staten and the direcugi thorough¬ 
fares of commerce, 
THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD 
Traverw# the whole length of the State, from the banks 
Of the Mwr-'w9lpp| and l ake Michigan to the Ohio.— 
As its name imports, the Railroad runs through the. co.n- 
trenf tho State, and on either aide of the rood along its 
whole length he the lands offered for sale. 
TO ACTUAL SETTLERS. 
From tho unprecedented advantages this Company 
offers, it la not surprising that it should have already 
disposed 1,31X1,000 Ken 8of land. It is now selling at 
the rate of 6,000 acres per week. Tho population along 
tho lina has trebled in ten yean , and Is now 814,891 
TlieCompany sell to actual cultivators, and every con¬ 
tract contains on agreement to cultivate. 
CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS. DEPOTS, 
There are Ninety eight Depots on the Company V Rail¬ 
way , giving about ono evry -oven miles. Cities, Towns 
and V|l|iage8 are situated at convenient distances 
throughout the whole rente, where every desirable 
commodity may be found as readily as in tho oldest 
cities of the Union .and where buyers are to be met 
for all kinds of farm produce. 
EDUCATION. 
Mechanics and working inco Will find the free school 
system encouraged by the State, mid endowed with a 
large revenue for the support or tho schools. Children 
can live in sight of the school, the college, thn church, 
aud grow up with the prosperity of the leading State 
in the Great Western Empire. 
No one who has visited this splendid region of coun¬ 
try can doubt that It equals the most favored descrip¬ 
tions that have ever been given of it ; but let any care 
ful observer visit it, and he will Inform you that the 
half has not beeD told of the advantages It offers lor ini 
mediate occupation and immediate returns, and it is bo 
laved, that it these surpassing advantages were made 
known to tho farmers, muuhanica, manufacturers and 
working population of over crowded Europe, they 
would promptly avail themselves of tlm knowledge. 
PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT-ON LONG CREDIT. 
80 Acres at $10,00 per acre, wilt interest at 6 per cent, 
annually upon the following terms: 
Cash Payment,. 
Payment in one year,. 
“ “ two years,.. 
“ “ three “ . 
“ “ four “ 
“ “ five “ 
“ “ six “ 
“ “ seven “ 
40 Acres at $10 an Acre. 
Cash Payment,.$24 00 
Payment in one year,. 24 00 
“ “ two “ . 24 00 
“ “ three “ . 24 00 
“ “ four “ .118 00 
“ “five “ .112 00 
“ “ six “ ....106 00 
“ “ seven “ .100 00 
$48 (X) 
48 00 
48 00 
48 00 
.236 00 
224 00 
.212 00 
.200 00 
Address LAND COMMISSIONER, 
ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD CO., CHICAGO. ILL. 
PUBLISHER’S NOTICES. 
Thu Rural Brigade is fart filling up, but there is yet 
room for new recruits. Please send along your Company 
rolls, gentlemen. Wc can still supply rations (numbers) 
from January 1st. It is not too late, therefore, to start new 
lists or add to those already forwarded. Pick up the strag¬ 
glers, and also accommodate the eleventh hour people who 
wish to enlist for the whole campaign (complete, volume.) 
Back Vo mutts. Bound copies of Volume XHL fur 1862, 
are now ready for delivery —price, $3. We Mould again 
state that neither of the first five volumes of the Rural 
cau be furnished h.v us at any price. The subsequent vol¬ 
umes will be supplied, bound, at $3 each - or if several are 
taken, at $2.50 each. The only volumes we can furnish, 
unbound, are those of 1859, til and 'ilk - price, £2 each. 
Adhere TO Tr.itM.-i. -We endeavor U adhere strictly to 
MiluK'ripts.n terms, and no person u authoriied to offsr the 
RrRAL at less than published rates. Agents and friends 
are at liberty to give away as many copies of the Rcrai. a* 
they are disposed to pay tor at clnb rate, but we do not wish 
the paper offered, in any case, below price, 
Tuk Rural ab a Present. Any Subscrjukk wishing to 
send the Rural to a friend or relative, as a present, will be 
charged only $150. It is also furnished to Clergymen, 
Teachers aud Soldiers at the lowest eluh rate—$1 Ain ropy 
A.vy person so disposed crd act as local agent for the 
Rur.il Nkw-Yorker, ami those who volunteer in the good 
cause will receive gratuities and their kindnesses be 
appreciated. 
Tub Rural ks sent to the wives or families of soldiers in 
the l-nion service at the lowest club rate ($1 JO) —the same 
as to clergymen and teachers. 
No TRAVELING Agents are employed by us, as we wish 
to give the whole field to local and club agents. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
THE LARGKBT CIRCULATED 
Agricultural, Literary and Family Newspaper, 
18 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY 
1). D. T. MOOUE, ROCHESTER, N. If. 
Office, Union Buildings, Opposite the Court House, Buffalo St, 
TJBttjnS, /-V ./1/FJ.Vf F .' 
Two Dollars a Year —ToOluUand Agents as followa: 
Three Copies m e year, for tb; Sis, amt one five to clu 
agent, for $10. Ten, aud one free, for $15; and any greater 
number at same rate —only SlAl per copy. Club papers 
directed to Individual* and sent to a* many different Fost- 
Oflices as desired. As we pre-pay American postage on 
copies sent abroad, $1.62 is the lowest Club rate for Canada, 
and $2.50 to Europe, —but during the present rule of ex¬ 
change, Canada Agents or Subscribers remitting for the 
Rural in bills of their own specie-paying banks will not be 
Charged postage. 
The Postage on the Rural New-Yorker is only cts. 
per quarter to any part of this State, (except Monroe coun¬ 
ty, where it goes free,) snd 6,Si eta. to any other Loyal 
State, if paid quarterly in advance where received. 
Additions to Clubs are always in order, whether in 
ones, tw 06 , fives, tens, twenties, or any other number. 
Subscriptions can commence with the volume or any num¬ 
ber; but the former is the best time, and we shall send from 
it for some seeks, unless specialty 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 please direct 
to Rochester, N. and not, as many do, to New York, 
Albany, Buttalo, &c. Money Letters intended for as are 
frequently directed aud mailed to the aboye places. 
