I. >v. >• 
Away with Spectacles. 
-away VS/ 
"ncmJortabu 
TRUSSES 
Two First-Class Journals for $3.50! 
lisb. TLe 'weather was loggy, and one of the 
sailors belonging to a Liverpool steamer in our 
harbor was overheard to eay to one of his mates: 
“ This is weather as is weather— none of your 
Watted blue sky P' 
The time is at hand when onr ministers should 
remember this from Josh Billings:—“I always 
advise short sermons, especially on a hot Sun* 
day. If a minister kant strike ilc in boring forty 
minutes, he has cither got a poor gimlet or else 
he is boring in the rong place.” 
A lawyer, neither young nor handsome, when 
examining a young lady witness in court, desir¬ 
ing to perplex her, said.— 11 Miss, upon my word, 
you are very pretty.” The young lady replied: 
“ I would return the. compliment, sir, were I not 
under oath.” 
A darkey preacher was telling how Adam was 
the first man created, and set ftguinst the fence 
to dry. An old brother who sometimes had lucid 
ideas interrupted him and said:—“ If dat am 
true, who made de fence?” Pass around de 
sasser. 
A young gentleman named Harry Turn recent¬ 
ly married his cousin of the same name. When 
interrogated as to why he did so, he replied that 
it had always been a maxim of his that “ one 
good turn deserves another,” and be bad acted 
accordingly. 
A STORY is told of a boy who went into an 
oyster shop in Portland, Me., and said his folks 
wonted two quarts of oysters. “ Solid ?” asked 
the man. “ Yce, I suppose eo; ye ain't allowed 
to sell the liquor, are ye ?” 
The late Daniel O'Connell once met a conceit¬ 
ed literary friend, and exclaimed, “ I Eaw a cap¬ 
ital thing in your last pamphlet.” “ Did you ?” 
eagerly replied his delighted listener, “ what was 
it?” “ A pound of butter!” 
‘‘As we two are one,” said o witty brute to 
his wife, “ when I beat you, I beat half of my¬ 
self.” “ Well,” said the wife, “ then beat your 
own half.” 
you have practiced for them—all the iustanccs 
in which you have overlooked or forgiven their 
faults—in short, hike an inventory of your good 
qualities. The next step is to arraign your 
friends. Do not allow yourself to be misled by 
the remembrance of any little outside show of 
affection or kindness that they have hypocrit¬ 
ically made—but briDg forward all their unkind 
arid slighting words and actions—and if these 
are not sufficient to inflame you, resolutely tear 
away the mask from their deceitful professions 
of affection and acts of superficial kindness. 
When your heart is sufficiently wrung by these 
feelings, extend them, which is very easy, from 
the narrow circle of your personal friends until 
they take in the whole of mankind. You then 
have the picture of yourself standing alone in 
the center of a cold and selfish world, isolated 
by your own superiority, and you have a spec¬ 
tacle to make the angels weep, Angel as you 
arc, you weep, not for relief, but as the flnleh- 
ing touch to your picture of misery, and then 
you are ready to give the world its due. 7 ’ 
“ If all our friends were endowed with the 
delicacy shown by some of mine at this mo¬ 
ment, it would need considerable exaggeration 
of their faults to harrow up the feeliDgs to such 
a sublime pitch," said Emily. 
“ There, now,” said Linda, “ you are getting 
into one of your blind quarrels again. Strange 
that you always get fairly under way before I 
even llDd out that you have launched into them. 
Now, dear Em, forgive our levity, and tell us 
what cause of sorrow you have. Have you 
heard from Ciiaiu.ev yet?” 
“ No,” was the reply, “ and I must shake off 
my constitutional indolence, and try to take his 
place, as far as I can, in the family. I fear that 
Charley will never return to us. But poverty 
has not even the consolation of mourning. 
Grief for the lost must be put aside for the 
coarser consideration of what is to be done for 
those that remain.” 
“ If 1 could help you,” said Linda. 
*‘ No,” she replied quickly, “ that is impossi¬ 
ble. And I am rather glad, or would be, were 
there not su sad a cause for it, that I am left to 
my own exertions. I have an idea that the 
Necessity that has been hanging over me With 
such a hard luce so loDg, will prove a true 
friend, when I am at last forced to receive 
her.” 
“ I should want her to introduce herself in a 
more civil way,” said Linda, “if I thought of 
receiving her company.” 
“ People are not apt to be civil,” said Grs, 
“ when they know their entertainer has no 
choice.” 
“ Now that is not true,” said Linda ; “ there 
arc very few people whom a sense of having the 
advantage will not render courteous.” 
“ There is your simple ignorance Of the world 
again. But to return to the original question, 
what kind of a reception shall you give this fu¬ 
ture friend? With a shake of the hand or an 
embrace, alter the manner of seamstresses, and 
other plain people, who are not ashamed of 
their friends, ijd- like authors and magazine 
writers who h^i'her off with a distant bow, 
Just enough to conciliate her, and not let the 
world know she is anything more than a very 
casual acquaintance ?” 
“ Well, neither exactly, I think,” she replied. 
“ I have not the, requisite industry and patience 
for the first—and as I do not feel that I have the 
vision and the faculty divine, I cannot think of 
the last. I see no alternative but to resort to 
that friend of the needy, the profession of school- 
teaching.” 
“Oh, horror!" said Linda, under her breath, 
“The inevitable schoolina'am!” laughed Gus. 
“ If you can suggest anything better, I should 
be glad to have you. It does not strike me with 
much less horror than it does Linda.” 
“Set up for an artist,” 6aid Linda; “you 
know you and I took a lesson in drawing once.” 
“ Did not the men selfishly monopolize all the 
light and easy employments, I, as well as many 
others, would have a larger assortment to choose 
from " 
“ Hem!” said Gcs, who was book-keeper in a 
large establishment in the city. 
“Gcs,” said Linda, suddenly, “where is that 
book you brought for Em to see ?” 
“ Oh, yes, I had forgotten it,” said he, and 
they entered the house to examine it.—[To be 
continued. 
but he had not gone far when a new thought ar¬ 
rested his steps. They had had a foolish quarrel 
the evening before — the sarcasms to which 
Charles had alluded hud aroused his anger— 
both had grown somewhat warm—and in the 
presence of others he had made a threat—not, 
indeed, Intended as a menace of taking his life, 
but which might have been so understood. 
Their reconciliation had not been witnessed— 
they had gone out together, and Charles had 
met his death in a strange way. Would men be¬ 
lieve that it hod been purely accidental ? 
The genial, lively fcHow had been ft favor¬ 
ite with all the rougher natures among whom he 
had been tbrowo, while his more reserved aud 
fastidious companion had gamed the friendship 
of none of them. It was unlikely that the want 
of law would prevent them from avenging the 
death of their favorite. For awhile the conflict 
was strong—the love of life prompted him to 
fly—but auotber feeling, a sort of perverseness, 
common to melancholy natures, impelled him 
to go on, to take the worst that Fertune could, 
inflict. He seemed to see in this gloomy hour 
the culmination of all his disappointments and 
all his misfortunes. All the doubt, despair and 
gloomy forebodings of his past life pointed to 
t his event as their fulfillment. The whole of his 
existence was pressed into this hour; all the 
dark realities of the past—all the darker myste¬ 
ry of the future—were gathered into it, and illu¬ 
mined by it;—it was the hour of hla life. In its 
dark face he saw the clear outlines of the vision 
that it seemed to him had haunted him from his 
earliest days, and hung a mocking specter among 
the misty cloud* of his future, With such feel¬ 
ings he hastened on, determined tba]t Fate 
should see no struggles of the victim in the fear¬ 
ful web which she had woven around him. 
But soon other feelings began to prevail. 
Life, beautiful glowing life, rose before him,— 
its activity, its bustling scenes, all that he had 
at other times despised as empty conventionali¬ 
ties, put on a strange attractiveness, for they 
were life, and over against stood the unmoving 
stillness and the everlasting silence. Life con¬ 
quered and he fled. 
AN EMBER -PICTURE 
BY JAMES BUSSELL LOWELL 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
t The Leading Weekly cf ite date—Price $3,00 a Tear,) 
How strange are the freaks of memory ! 
The lessons of life we forget. 
While a trifle, a trick of color, 
In the wonderful web is set,— 
Set by some mordant of fancy, 
And, despite the wear and tear 
Of time, or iliitance or trouble 
Insists on its right to be there. 
A chance had brought us together; 
Our talk was of matters of course; 
We were nothing, one to the other, 
But a short half-hour s resource. 
We spoke of French acting aud actors. 
And their easy, natural way,— 
Of the weather, for it was raining 
As we drove home from the play. 
We debated the social nothings 
Men take such pains t* discuss ; 
The thunderous rumor of battle 
Were silence the while for us. 
.Arrived at her door we left her 
With a drippingly hurried adieu. 
And our wheels went crunching the gravel 
Of the oak-darkened avenue. 
As we drove away through the shadow, 
The candle she held in the door 
From rain-varnished tree-trunk to tree-trunk 
Flashed fainter, and flashed no more,— 
Flashed fainter and wholly faded 
Before we had past the wood; 
But the light of the face behind it 
Went with me and »taid for good. 
The vision of scarce a moment, 
And hardly marked at the time, 
It comes unbidden to haunt me, 
Like a scrap of a ballad-rhyme. 
Had she beauty '! Well, not what they call so, 
You may find a thousand as fair, 
And yet there’s her face in my memory, 
With no special right to be there. 
And I Hit sometimes in the twilight, 
And call back to life in the coals 
Old faces and hopes and fancies 
Long burled—good rest .to their souls !— 
Ilerlface shines out of the embers; 
I see her holding the light, 
And hear the crunch of the gravel 
And the sweep of the rain that night. 
'Tis a face that can never prow older, 
That never can part with its gleam; 
’Tis a gracious possession forever, 
For what is il all but a dream ? 
[Atlantic Monthly for July, 
THE MARYLAND FARMER, 
(A Standard AgHcullural Monthly—Price $1.50,) 
BOTH SENT ONE TEAR FOR ONLY $3.50! 
The Publisher: of the above-named popular Journals 
have made an arraneernect by which both can be fur¬ 
nished at about the price of one. Farmers. Planters, 
Stork Growers, Horticulturists, A c , in the North and 
South, East and West, will please note the offer.-re- 
memberlng that now U a favorable time to subscribe, as 
a new Half Volnme begins with July. The r.rBAL is a 
National Journal, adapted to the whole country, and the 
Farmrs, though mainly devoted to Southern Agricul¬ 
ture and Interests, may be read with profit In aU parts 
of the Union. No better Investment can be made in 
Rural and Family Reading than by subscribing far these 
Journals. 
The Farm** te ably conducted—published fa superior 
style—magazine form, with colored cover,— sad is justly 
attaining wldecixculaiion and Influence- LikatheRtnui 
it seeks to promate the best Interests of the Producing 
Classes of the whole country, leaving poUtlcal and see- 
ttonal dUcnetlcms and disputes for party organs. 
Address either 
D. D. T. 31OORE. Rochester. N. Y- 
Or !*. S. MILLS At CO.. Baltimore, Md. 
B elijS! beiiIjs:: 
MENEELY'S WEST TROY BELL FOUNDERY, 
ESTABLISED IN 1826. 
Bell* for Churches. Academies. Factories, ftc-, made of 
genalhe Bell-metal. (Copper and Tin) mounted with Im¬ 
proved Patented Mountings, amt warranted. Orders and 
nujnirtvs addressed to the undersigned, will have prompt 
attention, and an Ulti-irat-ed catalogue *enl tree, upon 
application. E. A. & G. B. MEN ELLY, West Troy, NY. 
OOD AND CHEAP HOOKS FOR 
The followlne works on AGRICULTURE, HORTI¬ 
CULTURE, FLORICULTURE, &o., may be obtained at 
the Office Of the RURAL NEW-YOU HER. We 
cun also furnish other Books On SURAL AFFAIRS, 
lr«ued by American publishers, at the usual retail prices 
— and shall odd uew works as published. 
Allen's American Farm Book.....$1,50 
Allen’s Disease* of Domestic Animals................ 1M> 
American Pomology (9M Illustrations). 8,CO 
American Slimp Shooter (Telescopic Rifle). 50 
Aniertriiu Bird Fancier . SO 
American Fruit Grower's Guide (Elliott)..V>0 
American Hot*.- lutturDt. SO 
American Horticultural Annual. 50 
American Agricultural Annua!. 50 
American W eeds ami t'sefnl Plant*.1,75 
Annual Register of Rural AII'bHb (130 Engravings).. 30 
Architecture (Cummings ft Miller,) 3 SI designs and 
711 Illustration*.10,« 
Barry's Fruit Garden. 1,50 
Bountiful Leaved Plant* t London Edition) 60 color¬ 
ed illustrations.... . 0.00 
Kcrueui'v Poulterer's Companion (120) Illustrations. 2,00 
ltommer'* Method of Making Manure ............... 25 
Browne'* Field Book of Manures...... 1,50 
Brock’s Hook on Flowers. 1,75 
BulstY Flower Garden.1,50 
( u.-pauter-' Hand-Book mew edition). 75 
c n> laical Field Lectures. 1,50 
Complete Manual on the Cultivation of Tobacco.... 30 
Cole's Atnerleau Fruit Book......... 75 
Cole'* American Veterinarian. 75 
Cultivation ot Native Grapes and Manufacture of 
American Wir.c. 1,50 
liana'- Muck Manual . 1,50 
Dadd'* Modern Horse Doctor..........1,50 
Dadd's Ameri' an Cattle Doctor .1,50 
Darlington'* Weeds and Useful Plants. 1,75 
Direction* for Preserving Natural Flowers.1,50 
Domestic Poultry Book, with over 100 Illustrations.. 50 
Downing’s Cottage Residences....... .2,50 
Eastwood’.* c ranberry Culture . 75 
Everybody tils own Lawyer.1,25 
Farm Drainage, by U. F. French. 1,50 
Field's Pear Culture. 1,25 
Flint on Graces. 2,00 
Flowers for the Parlor or Garden..3.00 
Fruit TreesAmerica . . 1,50 
Fuller'* Illustrated .strawberry Cultnrlut. 20 
Fuller's Forest Tree Cnlturlst..... 1A0 
Fuller's Small Fruits (besuiirully Illustrated,).1A0 
Gardening fora Profit. 1,50 
Grape Cnlturlst, by Andrew S. Fuller. 1,50 
Herbert’s Hint* to Horse-Keepers. 1,75 
llollev'a Art of 6aw Filing... 75 
Hop Culture....... 4® 
Hooper's Dog and Gun.. . ... SB 
Horae Training Made Easy, Jcunlngs’. 1,25 
Indian (orn; Its Value. Culture and Uses. 1,75 
Jadues on Fruit and Fruit Trees. W 
Jennings' 2 heep, Swine and Poultry.1£» 
Johnston's Agricultural chemistry..1,75 
Johnson's Element* Agricultural Chemistry. 1,25 
Kemps' Landscape Gardening ..*,» 
Kings' Text-Book, lor Bee-Keepers, paper. 40 
Langstroth on the Hive and Honey Bee...2JW 
Letters on Modern Agriculture.ID* 
Liebig's great work ou Agriculture...1,50 
Liebig’s Familiar Letters on Chemistry. » 
Liebig's Agricultural Chemistry.ljt* 
Manual of Agriculture, bv Fhnmou aud Flint.1,25 
Mlieeon Horsed Foot (cloth),,.,.,. 75 
Mla» Beecher * Receipt Book....1,5® 
Manual on Flaxwul Hemp Culture... 25 
Muyhew’s Practical Book-Keeping (tingle and Double 
Entry.). 90 
Mayliewa Account Book* (to go with the above,)... 1,21 
Mathew's Key (to go with above,).. 94 
Modern Cookery, by Miss Acton and MrsB J Hale... 15® 
Monumental Designs. 159 plates and designs.10,00 
Nat.nrt-'s Bee Book. 25 
Norton'* Elements Scientific Agriculture. 73 
Onion Culture .. » 
Our Farm of Four Acm. . ... 30 
Parson* ou the Rose. 1)25 
Redder'* Land Measure. 60 
Phantom Mower*. . lf» 
Practical and Scientific Fruit Culture (Baker).4,00 
Practical Shepherd, Kandall.2,00 
qiuimby’s Mrstenes of Bee-Keeping,..1,50 
Oolncv on Bolling Cattle. 1*5 
Kabbli Fancier.. 30 
Randall's *lne Wool Hnabaodry .. \J» 
Randall's Sheep Husbandry in the South.1,50 
Ktchardiou on the Dog. 3* 
River*'Orchard House*.. 50 
Rivers' Mlnaturc Fruit Garden . U* 
Rogers' scientific Agriculture.if* 
Rural Homs* (Wheeler). 120 
Baundcr* on Poultry < Illustrated). 40 
Fehenck’* Gardener* Text-Book... 75 
Scribner's Produce Tables. 3# 
Scribner's Ready Recknor and Log Book... a 
Silver's new Poultry Book (70illustrations). 50 
Stewart's (John) Stable Book.1.50 
The American House Carpenter (Hatfield's).3,50 
The Barn Yard, a Manual. .l.o® 
The Bobton Machinist (Fltsgerald). 75 
The Farm, with Illustration*.1,00 
The Fruit* and Fruit Tree* of America (Dcvwning).. 3.00 
The Garden, a Manual ... . 1,0* 
I be House with Origlual Flans.1,5* 
The Farmer'* Journal and Account Book.3,i0 
Tliomua'Am. Fruit CuRtlrlxl, (ISO Illustrations,)_3,00 
Thomas' Farm Implement*. 1.5® 
Ten Acres Enough .. 1,5® 
Todd's Young Fatmers Manual and Work Shop.. .. 1.5® 
Ventilation 1*. American Dwellings.1,50 
Warder'* Hedge* and Evergreens.1,50 
Wax Flower*, howto make them. 1.5® 
Woodward'* 0raperiee and Horticultural Bonding*. 1,5® 
Woodward's Country Homes.IJ* 
Woodward’* Rural Architecture. 1,#® 
Wool Grower A Stock Register, Vols. 1,2,5,8, each.. 33 
Toting Honsekce.rier't and Dairv Maid's Directory... 3® 
Tollman's Hand Book Household Science. 2,00 
Youtnan's New Chemistry.2,0® 
EWAuy of the above named works will be forward¬ 
ed by mall, post-paid, on receipt of the price specified. 
Address |). It. T. MOORE, Koch osier, N. Y. 
I - CHAPTER II. 
“ As drops of rain fall into some dark well, 
And from below cotnes a scarce audible sound, 
So fall onr thoughts into the dark Hereafter, 
And their mysterious echo reaches us.” 
In the outskirts of a small New England city 
the twilight, was slowly drawing round a small 
frame dwelling, in the door of which sat a young 
girl, looking gray and gloomy in the uncertain 
light, aud seemingly occupied with thoughts of 
the same cheerless hue. Emily Mkadk had made 
the same resolves hundreds of times before, and 
as many times hod they been broken. It was 
one of those hours when our life stauds unveiled 
before us, looking us in the eyes with the truth 
of reality, undeceived by the deceptive gauze of 
habit and the false glow which the customs of 
social life throw upon it. Those hours when we 
take our compass and resolutely reckon our lat¬ 
itude and longitude, our distance from the port, 
aud ow rat©of Balling. But, alas! these hours 
are few and far between. We forget their sharp 
lessons, and allow ourselves to drift carelessly at 
the merey of every current. We draw down the 
veil and only oceasionullv cast a hurried, side¬ 
ward glance Into those serious eyes, that hide in 
their silent depths the solemn record of our 
life's great mystery. 
So Emilt felt it to be. With the sting of re¬ 
morse and the strong indignation for past folly, 
came a keener sting—the conscious powerless¬ 
ness to Hhake off the chains that habit had so 
closely riveted. 
The gate in the dusty little dooryard now 
swung open to admit two persons—a gentleman 
and lady, the latter of whom, with her bright 
face aud cheerful smile, looked like a sunbeam 
that had strayed back into the gray twilight of 
the evening. But the arrival seemed bnt to in¬ 
crease Emily’s gloom, as she rose with u smile 
of rather equivocal welcome, and invited them 
to go in. 
“No,” said the lady, “ we will sit down here 
with you. 1 never feel so much at home with 
you as when under this elm. If you were ever a 
dryad, Em, this tree was surely your abode. You 
are never 60 much yourself when )Ou are out of 
sight of it. I have a prophetic feeling that it is 
going to be mixed up mysteriously with your 
life.” 
“ Perhaps,” said the young man, “ when she 
gets disgusted with human society she will re¬ 
tire again to her sylvan abode, aud show her 
benevolence by lendisg a grateful shade to us 
wretched mortals who were unworthy her com¬ 
panionship.” 
"If that were the case,” said Emily, “you 
and Linda would have paid your respects to the 
tree to-night.” 
“ Now Em,” said Linda, turning and looking 
earnestly into the face of her friend, “you are 
not going to be in one of your gloomy moods 
to-night, when we are feeling so happy. Come, 
Gus shall give you some of Ills good nature, and 
I will supply you with charity. I feel uncom¬ 
monly benevolent to-night” 
“No,” said Ges, “i begin to feel the mood 
sarcastic creeping on me, too. You must keep 
still, Linda, aud leave the conversation to us. 
We are terribly cutting when we are in this 
mood. Simple people, like you, can only trem¬ 
ble aud be silent. But if you are good, I will 
teach you the vuxlue operaudi when you get a 
little older.” 
“ Teach me now,” said Linda, not noticing 
iu the growing darkness the gloom that was set¬ 
tling over the countenance of her friend. “I 
want lo know how to sympathize with you in 
these terrible moods.” 
“Well, first then,” said Gus, “correct me, 
Em, if I make any mistakes—first, you must 
turn your thoughts on yourself. Collect all the 
evidence of your graces, your abilities, your 
affection for your friends; all the self-denial 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
EMILY MEADE 
CHAPTER I. 
“Above that dark romantic stream 
Gray rocks aud glopmy forests tower, 
And o’er its sullen floods the dream 
Of Letbe seems to lower." 
At the time when thousands were rushing to 
the shores of our Western Ocean in search of 
their golden treasures, two young men who had 
been reaping Fortune's golden harvest there, 
were walking, on a clear evening, along the bank 
of a narrow but rapid river. From its margins 
rose high and steep rocky walls, through which 
the current bad by long and quiet patience worn 
itself a path. As the two friends walked on, 
listening to the rushing sound of the waters, and 
here and there catching a glimpse of them os the 
moonlight shimmer played restlessly on their 
uneasy surface, the taller and cider of the two 
spoke, apparently resuming a conversation which 
had been broken off. 
“If 1 return to .Philadelphia,” said he, “all 
the objections would probably be removed. The 
golden bait would be greedily swallowed. But 
after spending two years of my life in exile, I 
hesitate Borne about offering up the remainder 
on a shrine where It was once rejected.” 
“Do not go;" replied the other, “if you do 
you may he drawn within an influence which you 
cannot resist any more than before.” 
“But, Charley,” said the first speaker, “that 
is my home, aud my two years of absence have 
not made me indifferent to the attraction of far 
miliar places, even if that of persons were 
entirely lost, which 1 am not quite ready to eon- 
fesss.” 
“So much the more need of your avoiding 
it,” replied Charley. “ Pardon me if 1 speak 
too plainly, but 1 can see that you are drawn 
there by a desire to see how your new position 
will ©fleet your friends, and it will end by draw- 
you again into the snare which yon have only 
partially escaped. When 1 made you angry last 
night, I was only trying what ridcule could do to 
release you.” 
“ You are treading on dangerous ground when 
yon allude to that,” said the other in a half ear¬ 
nest tone. 
Little more was said by either until they 
reached a place where the. hank jutted out a lit¬ 
tle over the stream, giving a good view of its 
dark course for some distuncc. A lew stunted 
trees grew on this ledge, and here Felton, the 
elder, turned to cut a walking-stick, while 
Charles stood at the edge to look over into the 
river. Suddenly Felton was startled by a slight 
sliding noise, and, turning to look for the cause, 
saw that his friend was gone. He looked around 
wildly, and called loudly, bending over the preci¬ 
pice, which ho now saw had slidden away at the 
edge, and the sickening conviction came over 
him that his friend had slipped in that brief mo¬ 
ment into the silent depths of eternity. He 
called aloud, again und ugain, but there came no 
answer across the great gulf which he now felt 
to be fixed between theta. He began to trace 
his way with rapid steps toward the settlement 
from which they had wandered, to procure aid; 
ZST Answer in two weeks, 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 30 letters. 
My 4,17, 22,16, 25 is an anodyne. 
My 13, 21,10,19,1, M is a girl’s name. 
My 14,13,11, 9 28, 29. 21 is a pwerful nation. 
My 12, 6, 29,15 is part of a ship. 
My .3, 14, 20, 9, ‘IS, 2,19, 27 are necessary in time of 
war. 
My 7, 21, 24,17,18, 23, 9, 8, 5 is what fowls are. 
My 20,14, 25, 30 is an exclamation. 
My whole is a Proverb of Solomon. 
Montclair, N. J. May Foster. 
tST" Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
A merchant supported himself 8 years for $60 a 
year; at the end of each year he added to that part 
of his stock which was not thus expended a sum 
equal to L,'d of this part. At the end of the third 
year hia original stock was doubled. What was the 
stock? Sam’l W. Brown. 
Carlisle, N. Y. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ANAGRAMS OF LAKES. 
I. O. Dean, 
Dog O. Anna, 
Can I Gad Anna, 
Mag Ichin, 
Caugbdenoy, N. Y. 
Answer in two weeks 
No rat I. O, 
On bur, • 
San Eels Kate. 
Mach in Lap. 
Mary, 
In the days of the famous Etbau Allen of Ver¬ 
mont, lawyers were scarce-, and gentlemen who 
were not of the profession acted as counsel. 
Allen was often employed iu this way, and ou 
one occasion the opposing lawyer quoted Black- 
stone, whereupon old Ethan threw stones in 
this terrible fusbiou :—“ I would have the young 
geutlemau know that, with my logic and reason¬ 
ing from the eternal fitness of things, I can upset 
his black-stones, his white-stones, his grave¬ 
stones, and ids brimstpues.” 
A clergyman aud one of bis elderly parish¬ 
ioners were walking home frum church one 
frosty day, when th© old gentleman slipped and 
fell flat on his back. The minister, looking at 
him a moment, and being assured that he was 
uot much hurt, said to him, “Friend, sinners 
stand on slippery places.” Tho old gentleman 
looked up as if to assure himself of the fact, and 
said, “ 1 see they do, hut I can’t.” 
A young man in Troy, N. Y., Mose Johnson, 
deeply enamored of a damsel named Anua Bread, 
recently got off the following: 
“While belles their lovely graces spread. 
And fops around them flutter, 
I'll be-content with Anna Bread, 
And won’t have any but fur.-' 
The Portland Transcript says •—We heard an 
anecdote which amusingly illustrates John Bull’s 
incapacity to appreciate anything that isn’t Eng- 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 909 
Answer to Miscellaneous EnigmaThou shah not 
steal. 
Answer to Geographical EnigmaColumbus dis¬ 
covered America. 
Answer to question18 and 12. 
Answer to Anagrams of StatesNorth Carolina, 
Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, Tennessee, Pennsyl¬ 
vania. 
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