Allegretto, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
I AM WEARY. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
LITTLE NETTIE. 
day, The flow’rets sweetly bloom ; I found a flower of snowy white, I hat 
Tenor, 
I am weary. Oh, my Father! 
I am weary Of the strife,— 
Of the vain arid useless toiling 
For the fleeting things of life; 
And I know a quiet grave-yard, 
Where I fain would go to sleep, 
Where the flower would bloom above me, 
And the willows o'er me weep. 
I am weary, Oh, my Father! 
I am weary; take me home 1 
For I lotig for that blest haven. 
Where no shipwreck- ever come;— 
Where we never more shali languish, 
With earth's toils and woes opprest; 
“ Where the wicked cease from troubling 
And the weary are at rest." 
Porter, N. Y., 1868. 
BY M Alii K A, 
Soprano, 
Blessings on my blue-eyed Nettie, 
With her sweetly-smiling face,— 
With her dainty form so pretty, 
And her winsome, petite grace ;— 
Fairy bands, mischievous lingers,— 
Plump white feet that trot about 
Long as sunlight's brightness lingers, 
Ere the stars shine brightly out. 
When Sleep veils her childish vision, 
And in dreams our darling lies; 
Then we paint a bright elysian, 
Fraught for her with cloudless skies. 
Round our hearts she's geDtly twining 
Ties of love more strong than gold,- 
Sweet affection brightly shining 
After oUtir loves grow cold. 
Heavenly Father! do Thon guide her 
Where the flowers blossom fair; 
Let no evil thing betide her; 
Shield her by Thy tender care! 
North Bergen. N. Y. 
On many a branch their songs they pour 
3. In May-day, in May-day, 
A bir 
_once sung to me: 
The song T never shall forget,— 
Its notes I oft with smiles repeat. 
In May-day. 
4. In May-day, in May-day,— 
How glad I heard that song; 
Its notes were mellow notes of love, 
Like those from golden harjis above. 
In May-day. 
5. In May-day, In May-day, 
That flower, that bird, that song,— 
O 'twas the maid I love to meet, 
Whose blooming smiles are ever Bweet, 
In May-day. 
[From the Young Shawm, published by Mason Brothers. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HOW TO SPEND THE SABBATH 
woman ho claimed as his wife, and you might know 
she had neither assistance nor sympathy from her 
husband. Just as plough be would not receive a 
huudred fold more of love and pleasant little atten¬ 
tions for all the kindly acts bestowed upon her! 
Ah! the husband has something to do to make 
his home a happy one, as well as the wife. When 
she tries so hard to please the one she loves best of 
all in the wide world,—tbe one she clings to, though 
she must leave fat her, mother, brothers and sisters, 
and many loving frieuds, for bis sake, and perhaps 
endure hardships never before thought of,—what 
harm will it do him if he sometimes gives her 
proper meed of praise? A married woman loves 
the attention of her husband just as well as the 
young lady does those of her lover; and if she is a 
true wife she certainly is just as deserving of it. 
And if all wives received this kindly sympathy, 
which is truly their right, there would be lower 
sorrowing hearts and 6ad faces in the world than 
say to onr readers. We talked to mothers, then, 
in our plain way, about “ Murdering the Infants;” 
and intimated at least, if we did not promise, that 
when the warm season 6honld come again we would 
make a special plea for air for the house-plants. 
Now, we are pleased to believe, the warm season 
has in reality returned. Coy, coquettish May is 
deceptive, perhaps, and our just budding sutnmer 
fancies may be rudely nipped by frosts before they 
develop into June blossoms ; but it is pleasant to 
think that the sunlight will not again yield to chill¬ 
ing blasts, and that if showers come they will be 
warm and tender, and will make glad the violets. 
Therefore, one and all, we plead in behalf of the 
house-plants; lend us your ears. 
“But,” says one fair-faced young matron, “I’ve 
set my plants out on the front piazza and they are 
doing handsomely. What more is necessary?” 
PardoD ns, Madam; we do not refer to those 
beauties which yon have so vigilantly guarded 
through the winter, but to other house-plants 
which need sunshine aud pure air as much as they. 
That little girl of yours is being made a complete 
house-plant of, and her colorless checks and delicate 
form are an earnest protest against such treatment,— 
a protest that you ought to heed. Shall she not be 
as well cared for as your floral pets ? They droop and 
Bonnets have reached their smallest dimensions, 
and now there is an idea of doing away with them 
altogether. On the principle that extremes meet, 
the next thing we may expect is a return to the pre¬ 
posterous head-gear of forty years ago — the tunnel 
bonnets, which, it was said, required a speaking 
trumpet at one end to reach a woman’s ear at the 
other. 
The proposed substitute for a bonnet at present, 
however, is a lace coiffure. 1 ho coiffure maiUUlc, 
which has already made its appearance, is some¬ 
times worn at the opera, and will probably be worn 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HUSBANDS, MAKE HOME HAPPY, 
BT MAY MAPLE. 
We often read how the wife is to make home the 
brightest, spot on earth. 8be is always to wear a 
cheerful countcnaucfc, as well as the cleanest of 
dresses and collars; to have becomingly arranged 
hair, and ever to meet her other half at the door 
with a kiss. Tbe house must be always smiling in 
its orderly way; children ditto; baby no exception 
to the general rule. 
Now tbe great wonder is, has the husband noth- 
4ng to do In this matter of making homo happy ? 
To be sure he may do a great deal towards making 
a home. He may build the house and furnish it in 
princely style. He may furnish an abundance of 
The prettiest method is to festoon it to the orauis 
with handsome pins, draw it back from one side of 
the face, and ornament it bigb on the side, above 
the right temple, with a large pink rose and buds, 
leaving the other side free to be drawn over the 
face, as a veil, id the Spanish fashion. 
The coiffure mantfUe, which is not at all likely to 
be anything more thau a very exceptional caprice, 
is but the natural development of the mautiUe bon 
uet, one of the principal novelties of this season, 
the veil of which is a much more important afl'air 
than the bonnet itself. Tuis is nothing more than 
a very small fauebon of crape or silk, covered with 
folds of tulle, plain or frosted, with a veil of the 
tulle attached to the back, descending low, and 
forming in the Trent a drapery or second strings, 
which are fastened with an ornament similar to 
those on the bonnet. 
Nearly all the bonnets of the season have lace 
falls, or a scarf of lace attached, which is carried to 
the front, and forms second strings, the iirst con¬ 
sisting simply of narrow ties. This has been done 
to a great extent d nring the past winter, and forms 
a graceful addition to the small bonuets, which re¬ 
quire some sort, of drapery to shorten tbe apparent 
length between the cliin aud the top of the head. 
A fairy-like bonnet is composed of rows of fluted 
blonde aud white satin folds. A vine of verdure, 
with creeping mossy tendrilB, covers the top and 
falls over the scarfs at the sides. Over this verdure 
a little humming bird flutters, as though sipping 
The strings are white, with lace 
“ So long as we can say ‘ father,’ or ‘ mother,' there 
ie a love on the earth which bears one up in its arms. 
It is only when the parents are dead that we are set 
“Every man, wherever, he may he, is standing, 
uuforeboded, on a height,, from which he does not 
see the signs of mortality. If one always saw them, 
there would be no more work in the world —no 
more song.” 
“The most mysterious, dreamy thoughts are like 
a bird on a twitr; he sings, but if he sees an eye 
the dew drops. ' 
falling over them. 
FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, 
The above is the title chosen for the new society 
in New York city, composed of women of literary 
and artistic tastes aud pursuits. The “ Order of the 
Pen ” was at first suggested ; but that was not com 
prehensive enough, and the ladies who arc engaged 
in forming the organization determined to challenge 
the criticism of tyrant man by assuming a name that 
would defy it. The first meeting was held a few 
day8 since, but was not very largely attended in 
consequence of some delay in the notification. Cir¬ 
culars have been issued requesting the cooperation 
of lady member? of the press, lit&ratcurs and artists 
in that and other cities. 
Those who have been set down as the prominent 
members are Mrs. D. G. Croly (Jenny June,) Mrs. 
James Barton (Fanny Fern,) Mrs. Lucia Gilbert Cal¬ 
houn, Mrs. Elizabeth Stoddard, Mrs. Ann S. Ste¬ 
phens, Misses Olive Logan, Kate Field, Alice aud 
Phoebe Carv, Amanda M. Douglass, Mrs. Henry 
Instinct often shows human nature. In Green¬ 
wood Cemetery stands, in a little corner of a shaded 
and secluded nook, a pretty monument of white 
marble, over the remains of an officer who was kill¬ 
ed at Antietam. During the entire peninsula cam¬ 
paign this officer was attended by a faithful dog; no 
bullet ever grazed him; nor was he ever a straggler 
order will fall in love with you. Those who are 
worth your consideration would much rather see 
you with red lips and rosy cheeks,—aye, even tanned 
aud freckled, if you will.* There is no 6ftdader sight 
than the girl with colorless face and sunken eye, 
moping In shaded rooms through all the cheery 
summer days. To such an one croquet is a perfect 
blessing. Air and sunlight will in her case work 
wonders; let her have them, somehow! 
When the walking fever raged so high, last au¬ 
tumn, we hoped it would continue till this spring, 
aud that all womankind would catch it. A good 
brisk walk is a splendid tonic. The house-plants 
everywhere enunot take the air in any better man¬ 
ner than by walkiug a mile or more. Don’t saunter 
down the shady side of the street, carelessly twirling 
your parasol, and call that walking. Make walking 
a business; start off at a lively, exhilarating pace, 
and let the exercise invigorate yon, and give a glow 
to your cheeks. Every village and hamlet ought to 
have its walking club, made up of ladies alone, 
or ladies and gentlemen both, if that be deemed 
pleasantest, and let tbe recreation taken by it be 
thought not only an amusement, but a duty. We 
knew one such, years ago, and it was not an in¬ 
frequent thing for the ladies and gentlemen com¬ 
posing it to walk four miles and back at a time. 
How many of the delicate house-plants could do 
the sanffi? 
Woman’s duties —her sphere , if you choose to use 
the tern*— of necessity keep her much within doors, 
Kkv. Rowland Hill once visited a poor man, of 
weak intellect, and on conversing with him said, 
“ Well, Richard, do you love the Lord Jesus 
Christ ?" 
“ To be sure I do; don’t you ?” 
“Heaven is a long way off,” said the minister, 
“ and the journey is difficult.” 
“ Do you think so ? I think heaven is very near.” 
“ Most people think it is a very difficult niattci to 
get to heaven,” 
“1 think heaven is very near,” said Richard again, 
“and the way to it is very short: there are only 
three steps there.” 
Mr. Hill asked, “Only three steps?” 
Richard replied, “Yes, oij}y three steps.” 
n An( i pray,” said the pastor, “what do you con- 
“ Well, there’s no use of discussing the subject 
any longer; hat I know that I’m right about it.” 
“ I leave it to our mutual friend here,” said Mrs. 
will not refuse to believe 
Wilson. 
her. bhe saw the ingredients that I used.” 
“ Of course I should believe her, and would you, 
only I know that you like to have a little sport at 
my expense. L 
right ?” 
“Not this time. 
Talking in Comi'Any.— When you are in company 
talk often, but never long. In that case, if you do 
not please, you are sure not to tire your hearers. 
There are many persons, who, though they have 
nothing to talk of, never know when to leave oil 
talking. There are some who labor under so great 
and insatiable a desire for talking, that they will even 
interrupt others when about to speak. We should 
in society never talk of our own or others’ domestic 
affairs. Yours are of no interest to them, and theirs 
should not be to you. Besides, the subject is of so 
delicate a nature, that with the best intentions it is 
a chance if we do not make some mortifying mistake, 
or wound the feelings of some one of the company. 
But how is it, Miss Helen, am I not 
said that young lady. “ If you 
wish to know the ingredients of these really de¬ 
licious biscuit, I think I cun give them to you, as I 
took the recipe for the benefit of the Rural read 
ere:_‘Two cups of sour cream, one cup of sweet 
milk, a teaspoonfal of soda, a little salt, flour 
enough to make a still' paste; roll out, and cut into 
small rolls; bake iu a quick oven. 1 ” 
“So yod see you ate finding fault without any 
reason; for although they are certainly rich enough 
to please an epicure, there really is no fat in them. 
And your wife made them to please you'' 
It was a long time before he had reason to forget 
the “fat biscuit.” 
Husbauds might add to the happiness of home by 
learning)to bang up hats, coats, «fcc., w’hen they do 
not want them, instead of throwing them upon the 
floor, fot the wife to put away at her leisure. For a 
wife has something to do, and often knows what it 
is to work, notwithstanding the old saying, that 
“it’s nothing to wash a few dishes and get victuals.” 
— “ You’ll spoil your wife," said Mr. L. to a young 
married man, who was tenderly careful of the one 
he had promised to love and cherish. 
“ How so V" was the inquiry. 
she will soon think 
Wit and Humor— Wit. is the moBt dangerous 
talent which a female can possess, it must be guard¬ 
ed with great discretion and good nature, otherwise 
it will create many enemies. Wit is perfectly con¬ 
sistent with softness and delicacy, yet they are sel¬ 
dom found united. Wit is so flattering to vanity 
that they who possess it become intoxicated and 
lose all self command. Humor is a different quality- 
It will make your company much solicited but be 
cautious how you indulge it; it is often a great 
A LYRIC. 
“ Alas! hotv easily things go wrong,— 
A sigh too much, or a kiss too long, 
And there follows a mlsi and a weeping rain, 
And life is never the same again. 
“ Alas! how hardly things go right,— 
’Tie hard to watch In a summer night, 
For the sigh will come, and the kiss will stay, 
And the summer night is a winter day.” 
Concerning Twins.— In a certain family, not long 
since, a pair of twins made their appearance, and as 
a matter-of-course, were shown to their litte 6ister 
of four years. Now, it 60 happened that whenever 
a rather prolific cat of the household had kittens, 
one of them, of course- the- prettiest, was 3aved. and 
the rest drowned. When the twins were Bbowu the 
child by their happy father, little M- looked at 
them long and earnestly, and at length, putting her 
little finger-tip on the cheek of one of them, looked 
np, and said, with ail the seriousness possible— 
“Papa, I think we'll save this one." 
Very True.— When one sees the railway trains 
flying with the speed of the wind along the valleys, 
across the rivers, aud through the mountains, and 
the lightning flashing man’s thought over conti¬ 
nents, and across the ocean, from shore to 6hore, 
one stands aghast in wonder at the stupendous tri¬ 
umphs of the human intellect and will over the tre¬ 
mendous forces of nature.— Putnam's Magazine. 
“ Yon are too careful of her 
that you must be her slave; I used to do just so. I 
was very careful to bring in all the wood and water, 
milk the cows and feed the piga; and was especially 
careful to dean my feet when I stepped into tbe 
yard, and all that sort of thing. But I finally made 
up my niiud that I got married to have some one 
help ine, and 1 need not do so much for her.” 
Shame ou the man! Tnere was no need for him 
to say that he had stopped waiting upon his wife, 
and left her to do “all the chores,” in door and 
out; one look at the poor, pale, sunken-eyed 
“Whosoever denies that, spite 
from individual wickedness, rights 
ly prevail, impugns not alone hum 
justice of God.” 
A Truth. —On the dial at All 
inscribed—“ Pereunt el lmpulanter 
ith and are laid to our charge. 
Steadiness of Purpose.— In whatever you en¬ 
gage, pursue it with a steadiness of purpose, as 
though you were determined to succeed. A waiv¬ 
ing mind never accomplished anything worth nam¬ 
ing. There is nothing like a fixed, steady aim. It 
dignifies your nature and insures you success. 
Idleness.—I f idleness does not produce vice or 
malevolence, it commonly produces melancholy. 
Let every man be occupied, aud occupied in the 
highest employment of which his nature is capable, 
and die in the consciousness of having done his best. 
Miss Joy is glad she is not a “ thing of beauty, 
for she would not like to be “a joy forever.” 
