afe’ ftartmeat. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
BABY MAY. 
A face now sunny with smiles, 
Now merry in infantile play; 
Now thoughtful, though the duor eyes 
Could ace hidden things far away; 
Little hands that never have, toiled, 
Yet busy-to busy all day; 
Little feet that never have ltd 
The dear little body astray; 
This picture i* framed In our hearts; 
Oar darling—our sweet Baby Mat 
We love her—yet never forget 
Oar beautiful darling is clay, 
Whenever wc look in her face, 
Our hcarte most earnestly say, 
O, Th r 'U who hast given the child, 
gull bless her and love her we pray; 
And grant, ir it he Thy sweet will, 
That the bright bud of promise may stay; 
Direct its unfolding and tenderly guard 
Our darling—our sweet Baby Mat 1 
Watch over her steps that her feet 
Never lead their dear owner astray; 
Find work for the dear little bauds • 
"When they shall grow tired of play 
Wc would that the whole of her life 
Might be as a fair summer day;— 
But Thy will be done I if it bo 
That slit carry a cross on the way, 
O give her a crown at the last t 
Opr darling—our sweet Baby Mat. 
Rochester, Dec., 1803. Nkttie. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
’ “THE NEW EQUESTRIAN DRESS." 
A lad y, having unusual caution in expressing 
herself, recently gave the public some thoughts 
on this subject through the columns of the Rural. 
More recently, another lady baa given evidence 
of her sincerity by the plainness of her remarks, 
and the display, In connexion with them, of every 
letter of her “full name.” Perhaps the general 
silence of the gentlemen is very appropriate, 
8ince “ nearly all the opposition comes from the 
female sex,’* and that opposition indicates an al¬ 
most overwhelming unanimity of sentiment 
among ladies themselves. Doubtless, while the 
world stands, there will be some women,—and 
men, too,—ready to yield their devotion to any 
“ new idea,” no matter how absurd. 
Were it possible, I would gladly cherish the 
belief that the last article was written by the lady 
expressly to incite her countrywomen to express 
their thoughts on this subject, that the world 
might know just what they are. If the lady and 
her “pious friend” will again examine the high¬ 
est possible authority, dispassionately and care¬ 
fully, they will, or should, alter their course, 
finding that there are “scriptural grounds” for 
opposition to the “New Equestrian Dress!') 
“ The woman shall no I wear that which, apper- 
iaineth unto a man, neither shall a man pul on a 
woman's garment , for all lhal do so are an abom¬ 
ination to the Lord thy Gon.” That should be 
conclusive. 
If the wearing of the upparol of males by fe¬ 
males, came under the Divine prohibition in that 
early and nude age, it is certainly an offence 
now, and a crying shame in view of the civiliza¬ 
tion and refinement of the present day. I have 
taken care to inform myself, and am happy to be 
able to state, that, so far as my knowledge ex¬ 
tends, the ladies are all but unanimous In their 
condemnation of the “ new dress.” Their disap¬ 
proval is, perhaps, more emphatic than would be 
deemed appropriate for me hero; und the gen¬ 
tlemen, though,—on account of the common sen¬ 
timent held by the ladies,—Indicating, by not 
engaging lu the opposition, a good sense “ that 
does them infinite honor,” are very far from 
yielding their approval “ to Ihe ; bluc and bull 
and gilt buttons.” To actually see a lady (!) 
makiDg an exhibition of herself, to “ patronize the 
new fashion of riding on horseback, astride, aud 
in gentlemen's apparel,” is enough to make any 
gentleman of good taste sicken with disgust On 
the other hand, nothing is more graceful or pleas¬ 
ing than a lady on horseback attired lu a suitable 
robe. There is no necessity for change, as with 
a good lady's saddle and a manageable horse, 
there is no safer “ fashion ” of riding on horse¬ 
back than the common manner, without “pants, 
vest and stove-pipe bat.” If American ladies 
could be induced to generally adopt the “new 
dress,” there would be an exodus more frightful 
than that of brave Northmen to “Dixie," and no 
new Te.vnvson would be able to sing of “fair 
ships sailing the placid ocean plains,” that they 
brought to our shores “traveled men from for¬ 
eign lands. It Is to be hoped that those “local 
editors,” stigmatized as a “gossiping tribe,” will 
continue to speak of the impropriety ,—not to use 
a stronger word,—of the “new dress,” till all 
wandering “lights,” so far as possible, are 
brought to their proper place. A , T . E . c . 
Wadharas’ Mills, N. Y., 1863. 
--- 
Puritan Wedding Discourses.— The prac¬ 
tice of wedding discourses was handed down into 
the last century, and sometimes beguiled the per¬ 
sons concerned into rather startling levities. For 
instance, when Parson Smith's daughter, Mary, 
was to marry young Mr. Cranch,—(what grace¬ 
ful productions of pen and pencil have come to 
this geueratiou from the posterity of that union I) 
— the father permitted the saintly maiden to de¬ 
cide on her own text for the sermon, and she 
meekly selected “ Mary hath chosen the better 
k part which shall not be taken away from her.” 
and the discourse was duly pronounced- But 
when her wild young sister Abby was bent on 
marrying a certain Squire Adams, called John, 
whom her lather disliked, aad would not eveD 
invite to dianer, she boJuly suggested for her 
text, “John came neither eating bread or drink¬ 
ing w ine, and ye say he bath a devil.” But no 
sermon stands recorded under this prefix, though 
A bby lived to be Ihe wife of one President ot the 
United States and mother of another.— Atlantic. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
DESERTED HOMES. 
BY ARRIS K. BEACH. 
I nxvkr see a desolate abode. 
With broken window panes and creaky door, 
4 But thoughts and fancies wander quickly back 
To gather up the scone* that were before. 
.The hard trod pathway from the hingeless gate, 
Which feet grown weary now, once lightly trod, 
[ The pale, sweet violet* that struggle up 
For sunshine kisses through the Btony sod. 
The fragrant sweet briar, waving to and fro 
;. Before the easement where ’twas taught to twine, 
And where the wind has open blown the door, 
. •. Pushing its way, the tangled creeper vine. 
, The broken staircase loading from the hall, 
Thin worn by feet that walk with us no more; 
' And stored away the rusty relics old, 
Wrought out by hands whose labors now are o’er. 
And there, perchance, beneath an nntrimmed tree, 
A euukeo grave; nameless, with weeds o’ergTOwn, 
W'here flowers of sweetness once were taught to bloom, 
Aud breathed above It love's low smothered moan. 
The Asparagus, waving its plumes of grocn, 
The Live-forever, growing by the well, 
The spears of Fleur de Us among the grass, 
All, more to me than written stories tell 
Ah I strange it seems to think our homes, aud graves 
Will be the same when we have passed away. 
Yet so it is I—The busy, restless now 
Is hut the coming future's yesterday. 
Cambria, N. Y., 1863. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ADIEU TO THE OLD YEAR. 
When I part with my old friends I clasp them 
by the hand, 1 prose akiee upon their chcekB, and 
with averted face and tearful eyes falter Good- 
Bye. But I part with thee, Old Year, more 
easily, calmly I look upon thy face, carelessly, 
fearlessly I say Farewell. 
I welcomed thee joyously, with a hopeful, 
happy heart, with eager, outstretched arms I 
greeted thy coming. But you abused my confi¬ 
dence, your prolfored good proved evil, your 
seeming pleasures, bright and fair to look upon, 
like the fruits of the Dead Sea, turned to ashes 
ou my lips. You crushed with mighty tread every 
sweet bud that dared smile upon my pathway, 
and with one breath swept away all the bright 
fancies of my youth. 
Old Year adieu ! Go, but first give back my 
treasures, restore unto me my dead,—call them 
forth from their graves and clothe them anew with 
life and beauty,—cause the green leaves of hope 
again to spring up in my heart, and place therein 
the singing birds of joy and gladness—but I know 
I ask in vain. I know that past deeds can never 
bo recalled, nor past errors corrected, that what 
is past is forever and irrevocably so. 
I shall meet thy successor, the New Year, with 
calmness. I know not what It has in store for 
me, but I expect nothing, I hope for nothing, 1 
pray only for patience to wait all the days, and 
years perchance, “of my appointed time till my 
change come,” until I stand in His presence, to 
whom “one day is as a thousand years and a 
thousand years as one day.” 
Once more, Old Year, adieu. Omega. 
Jamestown, N. Y,, 1863. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LOVED ONCE. 
“Once at least every human being has been purely, 
truly loved.’’— Anon. 
Beautiful thought! Whatever else may be 
denied us, rich and poor alike Btart on life’s jour¬ 
ney with the blessing of a mother's love. Wheth¬ 
er in palace halls, or in the dwelling “ where 
want and misery reigns,” — whether for loDg 
years, or only a few brief hours it were given, a 
pure, unselfish love had once been ours. And 
though ii were long ago, and we are footsore and 
weary with the long and desolate way we have 
come since it was taken from us ; though we have 
been censured and misunderstood, until we have 
lost faith in all other human love, we never doubt 
but our mother would have loved us still. 
Through cold, and hunger, and weariness, and 
dUcouragement, though we become headstrong 
and willful, and passion lead ns far astray, and 
Ihe world cai-l us out as evil, this star shines un¬ 
dimmed though all be murky night. Thank Gon ! 
whatever we are, or may become, toe toere lotted 
once. Lina Lee. 
Sherburne, N. Y., 1863 
NEW YEAR’S EXERCISE, 
Qcigg looked upon the day as one of business, 
and not of pleasure, and had methodized a 
system of call-making, which was submitted to 
his companions, and highly approved by them. 
The order of exercises was as follows:—First, a 
jerk at the doorbell; second, precipitate entrance, 
hat in hand; third, “ Happy New Year,” remark 
on finp weather, and introduction of friends; 
fourth, u second remark on fine weather, or any 
other one remark which might occur to f riends 
on inspiration of moment; filth, acceptance of 
one sip of wine, aud one bite of cake, if any 
offered, with compliments on excellence of both; 
sixth, reference to list in hand, observation on 
the necessity of retiring, and regret for the same; 
seventh, precipitate retreat. The system did 
Dot work smoothly at first, in consequence of 
Overtops and Maltboy’s strained, excessive 
efforts to make themselves agreeable. It hap¬ 
pened that, at the first two or three houses visited, 
Maltboy discovered charming young ladies and 
could not resist the temptation to linger beyond 
the prescribed minutes, and talk trifles to them. 
It also fell out, that Overtop found a number of 
those sensible women for whom his heart ever I 
longed, aud whose starving souls as he called 
them, were not to be satisfied with the dry 
crust of ordinary compliment. To them, there¬ 
fore, he addressed observations on the inner or 
spiritual significance of the New Year’s call; on 
the reminiscences of childhood suggested by 
sleigh-bells; on the typical meaning of snow as 
the Ehroud of death, and, at the same time, the 
warming garment of coming life; on wine or 
lemonade, (as the case might be,) as an emblem 
of hospitality; and on many other little things 
as expressive of the loftiest truths.— Rev. K. 
Black. 
CAMPBELL’S “ HOHENLINDEN." 
Every Englishman remembers Campbell’s 
noble poem of “Hohenlinden;” but few perhaps 
had considered, until Sir Edward Curt led the 
way, bow entirely that poem misrepresents all 
the circu instances of the battle which it has made 
so famous. It is about as near the fact as David’s 
celebrated picture of Bonaparte crossing the 
Alps on a prancing charger is to the reality of the 
passage of the SL Bernard. The essence of the 
poetical Hohenlinden is a night attack; but the 
true battle of Hohenlinden began at eight or nine 
o’clock in the morning. 11 is very likely that the 
river Iser flows swift aud datk in winter; but it 
flows many miles from Hohenlinden. It does 
indeed wash the walls of Munich, and banners 
may have been waved upon those walls—nor 
would their waving have had less influence upon 
the battle, because invisible, through distance, 
from the scene. The only feature common to 
this real and imaginary spectacle was the snow, 
which fell heavily dining, although it did not 
cover the ground before, the battle. Perhaps the 
poet never beard that slush and mud were the 
allies of France at llohenlindeu, and that Mo¬ 
reau won the battle by judging accurately how 
long his assailant would stick and struggle in 
the forest paths, where it was nefmore possible to 
rush to glory than it is to gallop over an Alpine 
ridge. 
- > > ♦ - 1 
HOW TO COURT IN CHURCH. 
A young gentleman, happening to sit at 
Church in a pew adjoining one in which sat a 
young lady for whom he conceived a sudden and 
violent passion, was desirous of entering into a 
courtship on the spot; but the place not suiting 
a formal declaration, the exigency of the case 
suggested the fullowing plan:—He politely hand¬ 
ed his fair neighbor a Bible opened with a pin 
stock in the following text:—Second Epistle of 
John, verse fifth: “And now I beseech thee 
lady, not as though I wrote a new commandment 
unto thee, but which we had from the beginning, 
that we love one another.” She returned it, 
pointing to the second chapter of Ruth, verse 
tenth —“ Then she fell on her face and bowed 
herself to the ground aud said unto him—‘ Why 
have I found grac< in thine eyes, seeing that 1 
am a stranger?’” He returned the book, point¬ 
ing to the thirteenth verso of the Third Epistle 
of John- “ Having many things to write unto 
you, 1 would not write with paper aud ink, but I 
trust to come unto you and speak face to face, 
that our joy be full.” From the above inter¬ 
view, a marriage took place the ensuing week.— 
Exchange. 
- ■ - - ■ 
Tiie Good Orator. —Cicero well aud wisely 
said that the good orator must be a good man. 
This holds true for many reasons, and, amo: g 
others, for this reason—because a good man has 
all human afl'ections within him, and the lan¬ 
guage of human life is to him a living language, 
a vernacular tongue, and every noble sentence 
has an Interpreter within bis own soul. The dic¬ 
tion and elocution will both profit by a true ex¬ 
perience; and the true man’s word will not only 
be the right one but the strong one .—Samuel 
Osgood. 
• . + »■+• — - - 
Adversity.—H e that has never known ad¬ 
versity is but half acquainted with others, or with 
h'unsell. Constant success shows us but one 
side of the world; for, as it surrounds us with 
friends who will tell us only our merits, so it 
silences those enemies from whom alone we can 
learn our defects. 
- - - — i - 
Perseverance.—C ling to it brother! The 
end is not yet The skies have not opened; the 
Master has not come to release you. But he will 
Come, in his good t;me, and will not tarry. Be 
sure that he finds you at work. And, that he 
may, keep working until you see him. 
Truth and Error.— Truth being founded on 
a rock, you may boldly dig to see its foundations 
without fear of destroying the edifice; but false¬ 
hood being laid on the sand, if you examine its 
foundations, you cause its fall. 
» ■ ■ ■» * »» — 
Conversation.— The object of conversation 
is to entertain and amuse. To be agreeable, you 
must learn to be a good listener. A man who 
monopolizes a conversation is a bore, no matter 
how great his knowledge. 
-♦—»--- 
Death, in almost any form, can be faced; but 
knowing, as many of us do, what is human life, 
who of us could, foreseeing the whole routine of 
his life, face the hour of birth? 
- ♦ » ■»- 
Thorns. — There are many things that are 
thorns to our hopeB until we have attained them 
and envenomed arrows to our hearts when we 
have. 
May and August. — A man of mature age 
and a young heart has May and August on one 
bough, like an orange tree. 
It is easy enough to be good; the hard thing is 
I to be just 
tat tits 
CASTING OUR SHADOWS. 
“If people’s tempers could cast shadows, 
what would they be ?” said Augustine as he lay 
on the grass and looked at Amy’B shadow on the 
fence. 
“ Joe Smith’s would be a fist doubled up, and 
Stearns’ a bear, for he is always growling, and 
Bister Esther’s a streak of sunshine, and cousin 
Julia’s a sweet little dove, and mine”—here 
Augustine stopped. 
Accoiding to Augustine, our inner selves are 
casting their shadows; that is, I suppose we are 
throwing off impressions of what we really are all 
around us; and, in fact, we can no more help 
doing so, than we can fold up our real shadows 
and tuck them away in some back drawer. 
Suppose we follow out Augustine’s idea, and 
ask, “And mine—what shadow would my tem¬ 
per cast.” 
It might surprise and possibly frighten us, al¬ 
though it might, in some measure, help us to see 
ourselves as others see us. 
The fact is, our associates know us better than 
we know ourselves; they see our shadows, which 
though they may sometimes be longer or shorter 
than we really are, the outlines are, in the main, 
all correct; for our shadow is, after all, the image 
of ourself 
We sometimes hoar of people who are “ afraid 
of their shadows.” and it seems cowardly and 
foolish; but if Augustine’s idea should come to 
pass, a great? many would have reason to be 
frightened by the image of their inner selves, so 
deformed and unsightly U might be, or so disa¬ 
greeable, that nobody would wish to take a sec¬ 
ond look. 
Now, it it this shadowing out of what we really 
are, In spite of ourselves, which makes*it such a 
Bober and responsible business to be living, and 
which makes it so immeasurably important that 
wb be living right; for other people are constant¬ 
ly seeing and feeling our influence, whatever it 
may be. 
Every child at school is throwing off a good or 
bad impression upon her schoolmate next to her. 
Evgry child at borne is casting off kind and gen¬ 
tle influences in the little circle around him; or, 
it may be ho is like the imago of a fist doubled 
up, or a daw-scratching, or like a vinegar-cruet, 
pouring out only the sour. How is this! Let 
the children look to this point— Child's Paper. 
COUNSELS TO YOUTH 
Let youth ever remember that the journey of 
life presents few, if any, obstacles in its path 
which perseverance will not overcome. 
No talents, however great, will lie of much 
value to their possessors without careful using; 
many a youth has failed of being any benefit to 
himself or others, solely because he made no ef¬ 
fort to improve the talents God had given him, 
and others have ruined themselves by too great 
efforts, while a third class, possessing talents that 
might have enabled them to become blessings to 
others. have turned their coarse downward, aud 
sunk in everlasting night Youthful reader, 
remember that it is iu your power to belong to 
either of these classes, and on yourself rests the 
happiness or misery consequent upon the decis¬ 
ion you make. 
The virtues or high standing of parents or 
wealth may, for a time, gild over the faults and 
follies of youth, but sooner or later each must 
stand on Ms own merits. 
He then, who risks bis future well being on 
anything short of the highest aims and purest 
principles of morality aud truth, is like the man 
who built his house upon the sand, and will find, 
when it. is too late, that the strong current of the 
flood of evil will surely take away his frail 
foundation, and leave him a wrecked and ruined 
outcast from society, or at least an enemy to 
himself and his kind .—Boston Cultivator. 
What a Little Girl did for the Country. 
—Little Annie’s heart was full, and the tears 
filled her sweet little blue eyes as she listened 
to the poor soldiers’ sufferings, when sick and 
wounded, so far from all the dear friends tbat 
would watch over and comfort them. 
“ How 1 wish 1 could do something for them,” 
said little Annie. 
“Well, daughter,” said her mother, “the or¬ 
chard is overladen this year, and it is a busy 
time all round. If you choose to go about the 
task of helping to gather apples, you shall have 
every tenth basket you fill for the soldiers. 
Father will barrel them up and send them on 
to the Society for you as soon as they are ready.” 
It was not long before little Annie's feet were 
tripping over the orchard grass, and her little 
ftogers were as busy as bees among the rosy 
and golden-cheeked apples. Her zeal did not 
die out after the first half-hour’s work, but kept 
up bright until the harvest was gathered. How 
many poor suffering fellows, away in the camp 
hospitals, blessed the dear little girl who sent 
them such a timely, refreshing luxury. 
I'll do it To-morrow.— There were two boys 
in a school I used to go to when I was young, 
which was about forty years ago. One waB 
remarkable for doing with promptness and per¬ 
severance whatever ):e undertook. The other had 
the habit of putting off everything he could. “I’ll 
doit to-morrow,” was his motto. -Til do it now,” 
was the motto of the other boy. The boy who 
loved to pwt things ott' had by far the best natural 
talent, but he was outstripped in the race of life 
by his neighbor, whose motto was, “I’l l do it now.” 
Let that be your motto. Never put off till to¬ 
morrow what you can do to-day.— S. S. Times. 
Life.— In vain we chisel, as best we can, the 
mysterious block of which our life is made, the 
black vein of destiny continually re-appears. 
To -A. 11 Our Headers. 
Our Terms —a Time rp.”—R ural readers are 
reminded that our terms arc strictly in advance, aud that 
vre never send the paper longer than paid for — a rule 
which is considered the best for both suh*criber and 
publisher. This No. therefore terminates our engage¬ 
ments with the great majority of our subscribers— all 
whose subscription* empire with the year. The great 
uu.«s of those whose terms expire this week may know it 
from the tact that no figures are gives after their names on 
the printed address— or, a* is the case in a few instances, 
728. 1 We hare so many subscriptions ending with the 
year aud volume that our rule is to give no figures after 
the names iu such cases.] But all whose subscriptions 
are paid to auy unniber of the next or a fature volume, 
will find the No. to which they are paid in figures after 
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the end of first quarter of next year (last week in March,) 
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of 1864, we add 780, showiug hi* subscription paid to that 
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tion terminates. 
Don't Send Ctuh Price for a Single Copy ,— 
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paper to Oct. 1, and such will be the case next year. [Of 
course club agent*, clergymen, soldier*, and editors who 
olub the Rural with their papers, are exceptions to the 
above rule ] But so many are Bending ns the full price 
for next volume—even when they might easily join clubs 
—that wo anticipate little occasion for sending this notice’, 
marked, to Individuals who do not comply with terms. 
* • ♦ • 
Subscribe Party .’—Those who wish to secure the 
uninterrupted continuance of the Rijuax, — as we trust is 
the case with all our subscribers—should renew at once ,- 
and ruch non subscribers as propose taking the paper for 
1864, and wish all the numbers, will do well to subscribe 
now. Lost winter aud spring thousands were disappointed 
because they could not procure the early numbers of this 
volume. To accommodate urgent applicants wc disposed 
of many sets saved for binding, which wc now need. 
Though we shall commence our next volume with an ex 
tra edition, the price of printing paper will not allow us 
to indulge extravagantly, and benoe all who wish to secure 
the complete volume, should kuhhoribu baki.v. 
W'htf and Because. —A friend wants to kuoiv why, 
instead of improving the Rural, wo don’t cheapen it, 
and come the great grape vine or mammoth strawberry 
dodge. He thinks we could make a “heap’’ more money 
that way than by expending no much in employing the 
best talent upon a first class journal, and that wtfwould 
certainly sett a great many more people, if not papers I 
Our answer is simply — Because we prefer our own style 
of doing business, and could never consent to publish so 
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serlber a bonus in order to obtain a circulation® 
• —--— - - 
The Title Page anti inete.v Occupy so much ipace 
that we abridge several departments, omit others, and 
defer columns of advertisements (our own among them) 
—yet the Index Is so important that wc offer no apology for 
giving what is indispensable to the volume as a work for 
tuture reference. Though the Index comprises only the 
practical and most important useful matters, it indicates 
that the volume contains a vast amount of valuable read 
log aud many fine and appropriate initiations—all which 
wc shall aim to excel in Volume Fifteen. 
Clubbing the literal with the .TIagasine*.— As 
many have written us ou the subject wo state that we will 
continue to t-lob the Rural with the leading Magazines 
as formerly, though several of the latter have so advanced 
tliclr prices that we can hardly afford it. For $4 we will 
send the Rural one year and a copy of either The Atlantic 
Monthly, Harper's Monthly, Godcy's Lady's Look, or The. 
Ladies' Repository. For $3 the Rural and either The 
Horticulturist, A rthur's Home Magazine, Peterson's Maga¬ 
zine. or The Lady 's Friend. , 
Hot/,, Do y~oit Hearts —Wc bare not space to 
republish programme of Premiums offered to Boys and 
Young Men under 21, and hence refer all Interested to list 
under above heading in our last number, for full particu¬ 
lars It is not too late to commence recruiting for these 
Ho unties, as the time for tiding tho quota is extended to 
February. “ Come, Boys "—for Now's Youb Time 
— • ♦ • — 
Select Pour Premiums. —Those entitled to premi 
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nate what they wish, in the letters remitting for their lists, 
so that wo may send promptly We lmve endeavored to 
oiler nothing this year but what we can fornlsh without 
delay, and w&h to avoid even the suspicion of procras¬ 
tination or unfairness. See list oi^tiers in our last No. 
- -o + m 
Cheering prospects,— At no time since the Rural 
began have we been more cheered than now L>y eneour- 
Sgwg letters from its fricDds, or voluntary offers of aid 
in extending its circulation Many things indicate a 
handsome increase to our circulation, and we hope to 
moke correepondiug improvements in the paper For 
particulars see next volume. 
»- — 
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are requested to help it along by forming clubs or aiding 
those who are doing eo in their respective localities. 
Many a person who has not time to attend wholly to the 
matter of organizing a club can materially aid a friend in 
so doing, now many readers will kindly do this-now ? 
- - ♦ ♦ »- 
The Bur at for Soldiers, —We only charge the 
lowest club rate ($1.60 per year) for copies of the Rural 
ordered by soldiers in the Union service, either to be 
mailed to themselves or their families—or by their fami¬ 
lies or friends to be sent to them. 
Hdhere to Terms, — We aim to adhere strictly to 
subscription terms, and no lo.rson is authorized lo ofifer the 
Rural at less than published rates. Agent* and friends are 
at liberty to give away as many copies of the Rural as they 
are disposed to pay for at club rates, but we do not wish 
the paper offered, in any case, below price 
1 1 
Additions to Clubs are always in order, whether in 
ones, twos, five*, 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 weeks, unless specially directed otherwise. 
Please “ make a note of it." 
-«-#-•-— 
Direct to Rochester* JV\ f\—Persons having occv 
sion to address the Rural Nkw-Vorkkr, will Please direct 
to Rochester, N. F, aud not, as many do, to New York, 
Albany, Duffalo. Ac- Money Letters intended for us are 
frequently directed and mailed to the above places. 
