A PERSIAN LEGEND. 
BT JOHN CJ. BASE. 
The Calif Hassan-so the tale is told— 
In honors opulent and rich In gold, 
One New Year’s day, sat in a palm tree's shade, 
And, on a stone that lay beside him, made 
An inventory—naming one by one 
His benefactions; all that he had done 
Throughout the year; and thus the items ran: 
“ Five bags of gold for mosuues in Ispahan; 
For caravans to Mecca, seven more; 
For amulets to pious people, four; 
Three for the Ramazan; and two to pay 
The holy Dervishes who thrice a day 
In prayer besought the safety of my soul; 
Item, one loaf of bread, n weekly dole 
To a poor widow with a sickly child.’ 
The Calif read the reckoning o’er and smiled 
With conscious pleasure at the vast amount, 
When, lo! a band sweeps over the account I 
With Endden anger, Uassan looked around. 
And saw an Ange) standing on the ground, 
With wings of gold, and robe of purest white 1 
“ i am God’s messenger—employed to write 
Within this book the pious deeds of men; 
I have revised thy reckoning-look again!” 
So to the man the Angel spake aloud, 
Then slowly vanished in a rosy cloud. 
The Calif, looking, saw upon the stone 
The final item standing there alone 1 
®llC ji t D ig Mitt. 
A KIND HEART REWARDED, 
Knowing that many readers are more interested 
in tales founded upon facte than fictiOD, we give 
the following sketch, which, although rivaling 
many of those romantic pictures drawn hy fiction 
writers, is vouched for by an old English journal 
as being founded upon a real life occurrence, and 
merely polished by the pen of the writer. The 
newly married couple had just come from the altar, 
and were about starting on a bridal tour as the fol¬ 
lowing conversation took place; 
The newly-married huBband took one of hiB bride’s 
hands in his own. “ Allow me,” said he, “ thus to 
hold your hand; for 1 dread lest you should qnit 
me. 1 tremble lest thiB should be an illusion. It 
seems to me that I am the hero of one of those 
fairy tales which amused my boyhood, and in which 
in the hour of happiness BOme malignant fairy steps 
ever in to throw the victim into grief and despair.” 
“ Reassure yourself, my dear Frederic,” said the 
lady; “I was yesterday the widow of Sir James 
Melton, and to-day 1 am Madame de la Tour, your 
wife. Banish from yonr mind the idea of the fairy. 
This is not a fiction, but a history.” 
Frederic de la Tour had indeed some reason to 
suppose that hiB.fortunes were the work of a fairy’s 
wand; for, in the course of one or two short months, 
by a seemingly inexplicable stroke of fortune, be had 
been raised to happiness and wealth beyond his de¬ 
sires. A friendless orphan, twenty-five years old, he 
had been the holder of a clerkship which brought 
him a scanty livelihood, when, one day, he passed 
along the Rue St. Honore, a rich equipage stop¬ 
ped suddenly before him, and a young and elegant 
woman called from it to him. “ Monsieur, Mon¬ 
sieur,” 6aid she. 
At the same time, on a given signal, the footman 
leaped down, opened the carriage door, and invited 
Frederic to enter. He did so, though with some 
hesitation and surprise, and the carriage started off 
at full speed. 
“ I have received your note, sir,” said the lady to 
M. de la Tour, in a very soft and sweet voice; “and 
in spite of refusal, I hope yet to see you to-morrow 
evening at my party.” 
“ To see me! Madame ?” cried Frederic. 
“Yes, sir, you-. Ah! a thousand pardons,” 
continued„8he, with an air of confusion. “I see 
my mistake. Forgive me, sir; you are so like a 
particular friend! What can you think of me? 
Yet the resemblance i6 60 striking that it would 
have deceived any one." 
Of course Frederic replied politely to these apolo¬ 
gies. 
Just as they were terminated, the carriage stop¬ 
ped at thejdoor of a splendid mansion, and the 
young man could do no more than offer his arm 
to Lady Melton, as the fair stranger announced her¬ 
self to be. Though English in name, the fair lady, 
nevertheless, was evidently of French origin. Her 
extreme beauty charmed M. de la Tour, and he con¬ 
gratulated himself upon the happy accident which 
had gained him such an acquaintance. Lady Mel- 
ten loaded him with civilities, and he received and 
accepted an invitation for the party spoken of. In¬ 
vitations to other parties followed; and, to he brief, 
the young man soon found himself an established 
visitant at the house of Lady Melton. She, a rich 
and beautiful widow, was encircled by admirers. 
One by one, they disappeared, giving way to the 
poor clerk, who 6eemed to engross the lady’s 
whole thoughts. Finally, almost by her own 
asking, they were betrothed. Frederic used to 
look sometimes at the glass which huDg in his 
humble lodging, and wonder to what circum¬ 
stance he owed his happy fortune. He was not 
ill-looking, certainly, but he had not the vanity 
to think his appearance was magnificent; and 
his plain and scanty wardrobe prevented him 
from doing credit to his tailor. He used to con¬ 
clude his meditations by the reflection that assured¬ 
ly the lovely widow was fulfilling some unavoidable 
award ol destiny. As for his own feelings, the lady 
was lovely, young, rich, accomplished, and noted 
for her sensibility and virtue—eonld he hesitate? 
When the marriage contract was signed, his 
astonishment was redoubled, tor he found him¬ 
self, through the lady's love, the virtual possessor 
of large property, both in England and in France. 
The presence of friends had certified and sanctioned 
the union, yet, as has been stated, Frederic felt 
some 6trange fears, in spite of himself, lest all 
should prove an illusion, and he grasped hia bride’s 
hand, as if to prevent her being spirited away from 
his view. 
“My dear Frederic,” said the lady, smilingly, 
“ sit down beside me and let me say something to 
you.” 
The young husband obeyed, but did not quit her 
hand. She began, “Once on a time”—Frederic 
started, and half seriously exclaimed, “ Heavens 1 
it is a fairy tale!” “Listen to me, foolish hoy,” 
resumed the lady. “ There was once a young girl, 
the daughter of parents well-born, aud at one time 
rich, but who had declined sadly in circumstances. 
Until her fifteenth year the family lived in Lyons, 
depending entirely for subsistence upon the labor 
of her father. Some better Dopes sprung up and 
induced them to come to Paris; but it is difficult 
to stop in-the descent down the path of misfortune. 
For three, years the father struggled hard against 
poverty, but at last died in an hospital. 
“ The mother soon followed, and tbe young gill 
was left alone, the occupant of a garret of which 
the rent was not paid. If there were any fairy con¬ 
nected with the story this was the moment for her 
appearance; hot none came. The young girl re¬ 
mained alone, without friends or protectors, har¬ 
assed by debts which she could not pay, and seek¬ 
ing in vain for some species of employment. She 
found none. Still it was necessary for her to have 
food. One day passed, on which she tasted noth¬ 
ing. The night that followed was sleepless. Next 
day was again passed without food, and the poor 
girl was forced into the resolution of begging. 
“ She covered her head with her mother’s veil, 
the only heritage she had received, and stooping so 
as to simulate age, she went out into the street. 
When there, she held out her hand. Alas, the hand 
was white and youthful and delicate! Thus con¬ 
cealed, the poor girl held out her hand to a young 
woman who passed—one more happy than herself, 
and asked, ‘A sou—a single sou to get bread?’ 
The petition was unheeded. An old man passed. 
The mendicant thought that the experience of the 
distresses of life might have softened one like him, 
but she was in error. Experience had only hard¬ 
ened, not softened, his heart. 
“ The night was cold and rainy, and the hour had 
come when the night-police appeared to keep the 
streets clear of all mendicants and suspicions char¬ 
acters. At this period the shrinking girl took cour¬ 
age once more to hold out her hand to a passer-by. 
It was a young man. He stopped at the silent ap¬ 
peal, and, diving into his pockets, pulled out a piece 
of money, which he threw to her, being apparently 
afraid to touch a thing so miserable. Just as he did 
this, one of the police said to the girl; 
“ ‘ Ah, I have caught you, have I ?—you are beg¬ 
ging. To the office with you I Come along! ’ 
“The young man interposed. He took hold 
hastily of the mendicant, of her whom he had be¬ 
fore seemed afraid to touch, and addressing himself 
to the policeman, said reprovingly;—‘ This woman 
is not a beggar. No; Flie Is—she is one whom 1 
know.’ ‘But sir,’ said the officer—‘I tell you that 
she is an acquaintance of mine,’ repeated the young 
stranger. Then turning to the girl, whom he took 
for an old and feeble woman, he continued; 
“ ‘Come along, my good dame, and permit me to 
see you safely to tbe end of the street’ Giving his 
arm to the unfortunate girl, he then led her away, 
saying, ‘ Here is a piece of a hundred sous. It is 
all I have—take it, poor woman.’ 
“ The crown of a hundred sous passed from your 
hand into mine,’' continued the lady, “and as you 
walked along supporting my steps, 1 then, through 
my veil, distinctly saw yonr face and figure ”— 
“ My figure!” said Frederic, in amazement 
“ Yes, my friend, yonr figure,” returned his wife. 
“ It was to me that yon gave aims on that night. 
It was my life—my honor, perhaps, that you saved.” 
“ Yon a mendicant—you, so young, 60 beautiful, 
and now so rich,” cried Frederic. 
“Yes, my dearest husband," replied the lady, “ 1 
have in my life received alms—once only—and from 
yon; and those alms have decided ray fate for life. 
On the day following that miserable night, an old 
woman in whom I had inspired some sentiments of 
pity enabled me to enter as seamstress in a respec¬ 
table house. Cheerfulness relumed to me with 
labor, 1 had the good fortune to become a favorite 
with the mistress whom I served, and indeed I did 
my best, by unwearied diligence and care, to merit 
her favor. She was often visited by people in high 
life, One day Sir James Melton, an Englishman of 
great property, came to the establishment along 
with a party of ladies. He returned again, lie 
spoke with my mistress, and learned that 1 was of 
good family; in short, learned my whole history. 
The result, was that he sat down by my 6ide one day 
and asked me plainly if I would marry him. 
“ ‘ Marry you!’ cried I, in surprise. 
“Sir James Melton was a man of sixty, tall, pale 
and feeble looking. In answer to my exclamation 
of astonishment, he 6aid, ‘ Yes, 1 ask if yon will be 
my wife. I am rich, but have no comfort—no hap¬ 
piness. My relatives seem to yearn to see me in 
the grave. I have ailments which require a degree 
of kindly care, that is not to be bought from ser¬ 
vants. I have heard your story, and believe yon to 
be one who will support prosperity as well as yon 
have adversity. I make my proposal sincerely, and 
hope that yon will agree to it.' 
“At that time, Frederic,” continued the lady, “ 1 
loved you; I had seen yon but once, but that once 
was too memorable for me ever to forget it, and 
something always insinuated to me that we were 
destined to pass through life together. At the bot¬ 
tom of my soul I believed this, Yet every one 
around me pressed me to accept of the offer made 
to me, and the thought struck me that I might one 
day make yon wealthy. At length my main objec¬ 
tion to Sir James Melton’s proposal lay in a disin¬ 
clination to make myself the instrument of ven¬ 
geance in Sir JameB' hands against relatives whom 
he might dislike without good grounds. The 
objection, when stated, only increased his anxiety 
for my consent, and finally, under the impression 
that it would be, after all, carrying romance tbe 
length of folly to reject the advantageous settle¬ 
ment offered to me, 1 consented to Sir dames’ pro¬ 
posal. This part of the story, Frederic, is really 
like a fairy tale. I, a poor orphan, penniless, be¬ 
came the wife of one of the richest baronets of 
England. Dressed in silks, and sparkling with jew¬ 
els, 1 could now pass in my carriage through the 
very streets where, a few months before, I had 
stood in the rain and darkness—a mendicant !” 
“Happy Sir James!” cried M. de la Tour, at this 
part of the story; “ he could prove bis love by en¬ 
riching you.” 
“He Was happy,” resumed the lady. “Our mar¬ 
riage, so strangely assorted, proved much more 
conducive, it is probable, to his own comfort than 
if he had wedded one with whom all the parade of 
settlements, of pin money, would have been neces¬ 
sary. Never, I believe, did he for an instant repent 
of our union. I, on my part, conceived myself 
bound to do my best for the solace of his declining 
years; and he, on his part, thought it incumbent 
on him to provide for my future welfare. He died, 
leaving me a large part of his substance—as much, 
indeed, as I could prevail upon myself to accept. I 
was now a widow, and from the hour in which I be¬ 
came 60 , I vowed never again to give my hand to 
man, excepting him who had succored me in my 
hour of distress, and whose remembrance bad ever 
been preserved in the recess of my heart. But how 
to discover that man? Ah, unconscious ingrate! 
to make no endeavor to come in the way of one 
who sought to love and enrich you! I knew not 
your name. In vain I looked for yon at balls, 
assemblies and theaters. Yon went not there. Ah, 
how I longed to meet yon!” 
As the lady spoke she took from her neck a rib¬ 
band, to which was attached a piece of a hundred 
sons. “It is the same—the very same which yon 
gave me,” said she, presenting it to Frederic; “ by 
pledging it I got a little bread from a neighbor, and 
I earned enough afterward in time to permit me to 
recover it. I vowed never to part from it. 
“Ah, how happy I was, Frederic, when I saw you 
in the street! The excuse which I made for stop¬ 
ping you was the first that rose lo my mind. But 
what tremors I felt even afterward, lest you Bhould 
have been already married! In that ease yon would 
never have heard aught of this fairy tale, though I 
would have taken some means to serve and enrich 
you. I would have gone to England and there pass 
my days, in regret, perhaps, bat still in peace. But 
happily it was to be otherwise. Yon were single.” 
Frederic de la Tour was now awakened, as it 
were, to the fall capacity of his happiness. What 
he could not but before look np«n as a sort of freak 
proved to be the result of deep and kindly feeliDg, 
most honorable to her who entertained it. The 
heart of the young husband overflowed with grati¬ 
tude and affection to the lovely and noble-hearted 
being who had given herself to him. He was too 
happy for some time to speak. His wife first broke 
silence. 
“ 8o, Frederic,” said she gaily, “ you see that if I 
am a fairy, it is you who have given me the wand— 
the talisman—that has effected ail I” 
SAVED, 
I believe the boy came to steal. Why else did 
he creep into the kitchen window withont knocking ? 
Pet was sitting there in one of her thoughtful 
moodB. I could see through tbe side window, 
though the luxuriant grape vine hid me completely 
from view. At first sight the boy startled me. He 
was uncouth — he was ugly. Not only that, but his 
brow was low; and to me his cyi was vicious. Some 
children would have screamed at the sight of such 
an apparition — Pet did not. instead, a 6mile broke 
over her face like a burst of sunshine. 
Nothing human repulsed her. I have shuddered 
to see her clasp a filthy littlt creature round tbe 
neck. Everybody was “nice” with her, and in her 
vocabulary “nice” meant g<iod. 
But to go back to the rough intruder. 
It startled him to see her efnile, but in an instant 
the boy looked ashamed. A flush spread to tbe 
purplish swellings under hia eyes. 
“Is ’oo hungry?” cried Pet, in a clear, small, 
bird-like voice. 
A moment after, she emerged from her corner 
with a lovely rose apple, that filled both her wee 
hands, and running toward him, her eyes shining—I 
thought I never had seen so beautiful an expression 
in a human face. 
“ Take 'is and’ool be nice—’oo is nice, ain't’oo V" 
The boy looked down at the small blessing; his 
lips worked a little. Sure am 1 no sermon would 
have reached his poor heart as did that little act. 
He seemed to hesitate. 
“ Take it,” said I, cheerfully; “ Pet would rather 
you would eat it, I know What did you wish when 
you came? Gan I do anything for you?” coming in 
as I spoke. 
The tears stood in his eyes now. 
“I don’t know as I want anything, ma’am, I — 
well — I — don’t know as I need anything! ” 
“ Have you a home ? ” 1 asked. 
“A — a — home— that’s what I never had.” 
“ Dive him eomefin more, mamma,” said Pet, piti¬ 
fully, grieving for the tears. 
He looked it her almost with a worshiping glance. 
“I have Ji or three cords of wood that want 
Splitting ai wnbv.g. dowja the cellar,” said I. 
“I’ll do it?" 1 he cried, brightening. 
I looked at him keenly. 
“ Can 1 truat you ? ” I asked; but I tried to say it 
with a smile. 
“Yes, you may, ma’am; indeed, you may,” be 
said; and, then, with a swift motion, jerked his 
sleeve across bis eyes. He told me that he was 
called Bertie, aud I imparted his name to Pet. So 
every little while she would pat-a-pat to the head of 
the cellar stairs and cry out: 
“Bertie —is ’oo nice?” then throw Dack her 
head and burst into such silvery peals of laughter, 
that 1 laughed softly to myself every time I heard her. 
Bertie came next day to finish his job, and his grey 
eyes grew positively beautiful at sight of Pet. 
“0, 1 love her, ma’am,” he exclaimed, “0, I’d 
give anything if I might kiss her, ma’am.” 
“Pet, Bertie wants to kiss you,” I said. 
“ Is ’oo nice? ” laughed Pet, suspending her busy 
little operations. 
“ No—no—I ain’t nice,” he said, remorsefully. 
She seemed to deliberate a moment; then she said, 
slowly: 
“Well, ’oo must be nice;” came up to him and 
put up her lips. 
He kissed her — made that swift, awkward motion 
with his sleeve again, and hurried to his work. 
My husband became interested in tbe boy. 
“Depend upon it, Hetty,” said he, "he’s a neg¬ 
lected genius, or he never would have shown such 
sensibility. I’ll see about him.” 
He did see about him to some purpose. He gave 
him occupation; found him reliable and steady 
work. Tbe war broke out — Bertie enlisted — was 
wounded and came near dying in the hospital. 
From that sick bed he returned home refined, spir¬ 
itualized, Ah, me! he came home to weep over 
Pet’s still, waxen features. 
“Oh! my little salvation!” he cried, with tears 
of agony; “under God—my little saviour!” 
Pet, in her home above, mu6t rejoice if she sees 
Bertie — now an earnest student in Christ; for this 
sketch is not all fancy. Bertie will be a shining light, 
a brand saved from the burning, to minister to the 
heirs of glory. 
As for Pet, do you think I ever wished her back ? 
Never, 
My waiting angel—my 6eraph guide to the courts 
of heaven! My one little child that never gave the 
heart that loved her a single pang! “Of such is the 
kingdom,” and with such my darling is safe forever¬ 
more. 
-■» ««♦> ♦■»- 
PRODUCTION OF AMBER. 
The little fishing village of Schwarzot, situated 
on the shore of the Baltic, between Memel and 
Dantzic, about two leagues to the south of the 
former place, has within the last three years ac¬ 
quired a certain importance, owing to the discovery 
of a large bed of amber. This bed is situated near 
the Cape Horning, and is believed to be extensive. 
Four Bteam dredges are employed for the collection 
of the amber, as well as a considerable number of 
dredges worked by hand. The amber is found al¬ 
most uniformly in separate nodules, with lignite, 
disseminated in the 6ands at a depth of from ten to 
twelve feet. The dredging is carried on day and 
night, by shifts of eight hours each. About four 
hundred persons are employed at this work, and 
their wages are on an average thirty-two silver gros- 
chen (53 cents) per shift. The quantity of amber 
collected i; considerable, amounting to some 2S8 
lbs. per shift, and for six days’ work 5.1S4 lbs. The 
saud is sent on shore, when it is washed, in order to 
find the amber. 
att& 
PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE. 
I was Bitting beEide 
My destined bride, 
One still, sentimental day; 
“ How I long,” said I, 
“ But to make yon cry, 
And I’d kiss the bright tears away!” 
Fair Ceciiy blush’d. 
Her voice grew hush’d, 
I thought she would cry to be sure; 
But she lisp'd to me, 
Pouting prettily, 
“ Prevention is better than cure 1” 
- - 
GLIMPSES OF GENIUS. 
Can a man learn the ropes that are not taut ? 
“That’s a flame of mine,” as the bellows said to the 
fire. 
What comee next to an oyster? The shell. (A hard 
case that !j 
Interesting to a youthful barrister—A maiden brief is 
not a little girl. 
“ One bumper at parting,” as the man said when he 
ran against a post. 
The principal feature in the new spring hat is the 
height of tbe price. 
A ri.x in a man’s butter is decidedly the least pleasant 
of all kinds of butterflies, 
A wao told us tbe other day, that “ one half of the law¬ 
yers live withont a cause and file without effect." 
An old bachelor says that the talk of women Is usually 
about men; even their laugh is but “ he 1 he 1 he 1” 
THEbogmaynot.be thoroughly poBted in arithmetic, 
but when you come to square root, he Is there—the hog is. 
Matrimonial advertisements now read:—“No cards, 
no cake, no wine.” The next thing will be “ No „ ed- 
ding." 
“ I won’t pay for steaks as tough as these,” said an 
angry boarder. “ There’s no law to compel me—they’re 
not a legal tender.” 
It may perhaps be thought difficult to decide which is 
the more destructive—the mortar in the battle-field or 
the mortar in the drug-shop. 
Felix says the Cincinnatians don’t celebrate the anni¬ 
versary of the battle of New Orleans. They are too 
much devoted to Packin-hain. 
The Chicago Republican saysJunius Henri Brown j 
contemplates a ‘Mirror cl Manhattan.”' If he contem¬ 
plates it long, he'll surely break it. 
A little boy returning home from Sabbath School, 
said to bis mother:—'* Ain’t there a kitly-chism for little 
boys ? This caha-chlsm is too hard." 
A school- bot being asked by his teacher. “Of what is 
the German Diet constituted?” replied, “Sour krout, 
schnapps, lager beer, and nix cum arous.” 
The following is a recent verdict or a western jnry, 
“ We are of opinion that the deceased came to his death 
casually, by an accidental stroke of thunder.” 
When a single gentleman cannot pass a clothes lino 
without counting all the long stockings, it is a sign he 
ought to get married, and the sooner the better. 
“ Owing to the peculiar arrangement of theprogramme 
no piece can be repeated,” was the ans wer White received 
from his landlady upon asking for a second piece of pie 
at dinner. 
An Irish gentleman hearing of a friend having a stone 
coffin made for himself, exclaimed“ By me sow], and 
that’s a good idea 1 Bure an’ a stone coffin 'ud last a man 
his life-time I" 
A man in telling about a wonderful parrot hanging in a 
cage from the window of a house which he often passed, 
said, " It cries 1 stop ibief so naturally that every time I 
hear it 1 always stop.” 
A few years since, at the celebration of a national 
anniversary, a poor pedlar, who was present, being called 
upon for a toast, otiered the following:—" Here is health 
to poverty: it sticks io a man when all his friends desert 
him.” 
A rural couple, studying the beauties of an art gallery 
at. Boston, discovered the word “ Requiem” on the bust 
of Mozart, “Iie-qui-em — who’s he, anyhow?” “I 
guess,” said the girl, « be was French or Dutch, or some¬ 
body elBc somewhere,” and they went on to other scenes. 
As a gentleman was w alking under the arcade of the 
Horticultural Gardens at Kcnsbagton, iooking at the 
works ot' ait displayed there, ho vt»uio bvro wqM- 
dreBeed Jadies examining a statuette of Andromeda, la¬ 
beled, Executed in Terra Cotta. ' Executed in Terra 
Cotta,” gays one; 41 Where 1 b that“ 1 am sure I don’t 
know, 1 ’ returned the other; *‘I5ut I pity the poor girl, 
wherever it was.’ 1 
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Do-vroin^r'a Cottasre Res Utenoofi... 2,50 Book ..." ... 30 
E&fttTc<xwi *b Cranf-erry Culture... 76 Silver** new Poultry Book (70II- 
Krerybody hi# ew u Lawyer.1 ,*2f. lustration*).. .. 50 
Farm Druina^e, by H F French..],5Q(Stewart’s (John) Stable Book..., 1,60 
Field’* Fear Culture,. .. .1,25 Tbe America House Carpenter 
Flint r,u ..,2,00 (Hatfield*#) ... . .8,50 
Fruit Trees of America.1,50[The Bara Yard, a Mamml.LOO 
Fnller’t liluAtrated Strawberry The Boston BT«wihinUt<yitxgftrtld) 75 
Guitarist. ..*. 901 Tbe Farm, with ft lustration* .. ..1,00 
Do. Feral Tree Oulwrist. ... ..*1,50 The Frajbi and Fruit Treeaof 
Do. Small Fruit* (beautifully U- America (Downing ’.3,00 
iustrated).... JAOlThe Garden, a Manual ...... ...1,00 
Gardening for Profit.1,50 |Th« House with Original Plana .,1,50 
Grapo CnllarUt, by A S Fuller . .3.5U The Farmer’* Journal aud Ac- 
Guenon on Mdch Oov**.. 751 count Rock.. ... .. .$1, $2, $3,59 
Herbert** Hint# to Horee-Keeper# I ; 7. r . Thomas' Am. Fruit Cttlturiat(4d0 
Hollev’s Art of Saw Filing. 75 IllnriraUonf.)....3,00 
Hop CalVire .... ... 40 Ter. ArrEnaqgb .1,50 
Hooper’? Dog and Our.. ... So Todcl'* Young Farmer*’ Manual 
IndiiLn Corn "; 1U Value, Culture aud Work Mu*p.1,50 
aud .1,V Ventilation In Am. Dwell Inga,... 1,50 
JohuMou’s Ag’l Chemistry.1,76 ; WardeFc Hedges and Evergreens 1,50 
Do, Element* Ag-T Chemistry.. ..! ,25 j Wax Flowers*, ho^ to luak t? them 1.50 
! Ramp*’ l*.%nd*-/,pe Gardening... .2,0k' | Western Frail Greers' Guide.. ,1,50 
[ LangHrolb cat U:e Hive and Woodward‘a tiraporieo and Hor- 
Han«y Bee.....ticullural JAdlmngs.1,50 
! Lei ter? ov Modern Adrien!tn r« ,.. 1,00 Dt*. Country Homca,........... 1,50 
I Liebig’*great w.-rk on Agriculture Tin. Rural Architecture.1,00 
j Do. Agricultural Chi-mi*try .. .. 1,00; Wool Grower and Stock Renter, 
1 Manual of Agriculture, by Emer- J Vola. 1, 2 y 5, each....... ... . 33 
h o and Flint.1,251 Yotini; House*v^j'or’t <md Dairy 
I Maucr! on FJaxand HetnpCulture 26 Maid 1 * Directory..... 30 
Manual of Tobacco Culture... 30 Y^uman'n Hand Book Hou&eiiold 
Maj'bew’e Fratliltt] Book-Keep- Science. ’2,00 
iog(Single and Double Entry,) W Yoninac’^ New Chemiflt^..,.,...*2,00 
fl" - Mctkun Ami hicjuv AncnrrucTtrnK— Containing Elevations and 
Pinna of Dwelling Houses, School Houses. Churches, &c. Price, $10. 
L5T The Practical Staik Bcilt*ek — Containing 80 ori gin al PlAte*, 
giving a complete Treatise on the Art of Building Stairs and Hand-Rnlla. 
Price, 
WT Any of the above named works will he forwarded by 
mall, post-paid, on receipt of the price specified. 
Address D. I). T. MOORE, Rochester, N. Y, 
pENMEN WANTED! 
1 desire the address ol all Teachers In Writing and teach¬ 
ers in general. My business arrangements tills lall will lead 
me to require the services of a large number of llrsi class 
Penmen, and I shall be able to impart valuable information 
to all Teachers and Writers. Hease address, with specimen 
of hand-writing, IT. G. EASTMAN. LL. D., President Kart 
man National Business College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 
LADY WRITERS WANTED. 
I desire to employ twelve of tbe best Lady Teachers of 
Penmanship In the country, and to fuc!i the Highest salary 
will he paid. Please address, with specimens and particu¬ 
lars, a« above. II- O. E. 
C. 0 * 33 ■ 
In view of the many frauds perpetrated on the public hy 
dealers in base metal Swiss Watches, which are mainly the 
refuse of the lottery and gift enterprise swindlers, the under¬ 
signed desire to call attention to the very low price at which 
he will send genuine Waltham Watches, now universally 
conceded to be the best made and at the same time the 
cheapest watch In the world. 
Hunting Watch in 2oz. Coin Silver Case.*18.00 
The same. Extra Jeweled. ..20.e0 
The same. Extra Jeweled, Chronometer Balance 22.01) 
Eor either of the above, in 8oz. case. 2.00 extra 
for either of the above, in -Joz. case....... <1.50 extra 
The Watches to be sent br Express. ACCOMPANIED 
WJTU AMERICA if WATCH COMPANY’S 
CERTIFICATE OF GENUINENESS. 
THE BUYER TO HAVE PRIVILEGE OF EX¬ 
AMINATION IN POSSESSION OF EXPRESS 
COMPANY. 
My third will hang a man till dead, 
Or hold him np alive in bed. 
My whole is but a wholesome spice, 
Brought from the east, with cloves and rice. 
Denio. 
pf” Answer in two weeks. 
- ♦-»-* - 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ANAGRAM. 
Ether rae otw sway ot evil no reath,— 
Wot aysw ot edgjn, to cat, ot evwi; 
Orf lal nights reeh vhae lonbde thirb— 
A grith dan grown—a ealfe nad rate 1 
Ho I paphy ey th woh pyhap kame— 
How singlesb lilts seemthelvs rae stelb 1 
Ohtv tinsgomeh rapes orf hereto kaee, 
Dna rivest ni lal etingh rof eth steb! 
Cleveland, O, Jon a 6 Perdue. 
Usy Answer in two weeks. 
- •. > > - 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PROBLEM. 
A and B agree to dig a trench 50 rods long for $100. It 
is worth hair a dollar a rod more to dig one end than the 
other. Required the number of rods each shall dig to 
receive his $50. w. h. w. 
Answer in two weeks. 
M OTH PATCHES, FRECKLES and TAN, 
The onlv reliable remedy for those brown DlbcoLORA 
tions on the face is “ rerr>/'s Moih and Freckle Lotion: 
Prepared only by Dr. B. C. PERRY, 49 Bond St., New York. 
g*r- Sold everywhere. 950-13teo 
950-13teo 
LIPPKB MOWER AND REAPER 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &o„ IN No. 959. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—Onr beBt friends 
are those who tell ns of onr faults. 
Answer to Anagram: 
A gentle word is never lost; 
O never then refuse one,— 
It cheers the heart when sorrow-tost, 
And luile the cares that braise one. 
It scatters sunshine o’er our way, 
It tumB our thorns to roses; 
It changes dreary night to day, 
And hope and peace discloses. 
Answer to Printers’ Rebus;—Be honest, and always 
backward in self-praise. 
This Celkbratkd and Unequaled machine is manufac¬ 
tured by The Clipper Mower & Reaper Company, 
at their WORKS at Yonkers, N. Y.. where they have unsur¬ 
passed facilities lor the business. The Machine needs no en- 
eomluul. Farmers throughout all sections of the country 
who have used it, are ready aud willing to testify to its great¬ 
ly superior Qualities for all work, combining, as it does,more 
points Of excellence man any machine yet made. 
Its miiiclnul cliarai'terhUcB are: —bjnvlkjity ok con- 
stUvction, 'Durability, Kakk ok Ddakt. Pohtauility 
0 r No. y L^c Uor8ema5'liic (so in. wheel,) 'ay, feet swath. 
ThiM Machine look ibe First Premium nnu Gold 
M edu.1 • at the Great Trial at Auburn. X.Y., J oly and is 
the only practical O ih—H orne Machine ju Market. 
No.3, Two-Horse (light) :so in. wheel, 4 fcctswatii. 
No. 3 " ('medium) :u in wheel, VA feet bwath. 
No. 4, " Uarge) 3b In. w heel. Ik, anil a feet bWftth. 
Made also as a Combined Mower and Reaper. 
Address TUB CLIPPER MOWER .« THfAPERCO, 
951-6teo Nob. 12 <fc 14 Cltfl St., New r ork city. 
“TICOJfOMY IS WEALTH.”—Franklin. 
XJ Why will people pay $50 or $10® fa?. a Sewing Ma* 
chine, when $25 will buy a better one for all pracncal pur¬ 
poses ? Notw ithstanding reports to the conlrai j, the sub¬ 
scribers beg to inform their numerous tnendh that the 
"Franklin” and "Diamond" Machines can he had in any 
quantity. This Machine is a double threat,, complete wit j 
table, constructed upon entirely new ^principles, and DoeB 
Not infringe upon any other in the world. It is emphatically 
the poor man's Sewb'g Machine, and is warranted to excel 
all others, as thousands of patrons w;ill testily. 
Agents Wanted.—M achines sent to Agents on trial, and 
jrivt-n uwav to families who are needy and deserving. Ad- 
S iKtl J. C. OTTIS & CO., Boston, Maas. 
