OUR FALL CAMPAIGN! 
THE OLD FOGY FARMER AND HIS STOCK.—No. V 
brows ; epicurean diners, matter-of-fact diners, care¬ 
less diners; dainty diners, luinary diners; diners at 
borne, diners at the clubs, and the well known vis¬ 
ages of the habitual diners out t Why do not some 
of our great artist* work up a few illustration* of 
this subject? They could not immortalize the din- 
ner,— the cooks have done that; but mayhap they 
might immortalize themselves. 
The scene at Willoughby Hall that evening was 
pleasant to look upon/ A soft, mellow light illu¬ 
mined the room, only half revealing the few pic¬ 
tures that hung on the walls, but plainly showing 
the little dinner party of three, Plainly,—though 
Dot glaringly, as with too much light, hut, in a sub¬ 
dued, quiet tone. Master aud mistress, and house¬ 
keeper— yonth over against, age. Life before the 
one, with all its sweet fullness of possibility; life 
behind the other, in the main,—a realization : how 
satisfying, could only be pnessed at. 
Lambert Willoughby was, to all appearance, at 
least, a fortunate man. He seemed to feel himself 
so, on this particular evening, as he helped bis com¬ 
panion to the delicacies prepared for them. His lips 
wore a perpetual smtJe, His whole air was that of 
one satisfied with the world, and entirely persuaded 
that the fates were dealing very kindly with him. A 
close observer might have detected traces of care 
and pain in the vaguely defined lines about bis 
mouth, but they spoke only of some pain and care 
put away in the past., and hardly living as a memory. 
Faint as they were, the lines added character to the 
rather delicate mouth, and stamped the face with a 
stronger manliness. lie came of a manly stock; 
hut be had been carefully nurtured,—too carefully, 
perhaps,—and showed more of the maternal than 
the paternal characteristics, physically, and, in a 
degree, mentally. Leaving out of view some points 
in his nature not generally seen in such combina¬ 
tion, he would have been called weak And weak 
he was, in certain regards. Not weak as to princi¬ 
ples of right—voluntarily he could not have been 
prevailed on to commit a wrong,—but if, by any 
curious linking of circumstances, be bad been umde 
a party to misdeeds, lacking in moral strength to 
expose others or to endeavor to exculpate himself 
Aside from tills peculiarity, he was fair-minded, and 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
O, AUTUMN STARS. 
BT HOWARD THURSTON 
Bright autumn stars! ye gleam to-night 
As sweetly, beautifully clear 
Ae when ye shed vour silver light 
Upon roe. in a vanished year- 
And life should he as glad a thing 
As then it was, and love should glow 
As bright, and hope as sweetly sing 
As in the days of long ago; 
But love bar waned, O autumn stars i 
Aud life, imprisoned, beats its bars 1 
Ye mo«k me with your smiling beams, 
O autumn stars 1 _ Do ye not miss 
The tenderness or summer dreams, 
The Joy of •!one’s enrapturing kiSB f 
Have ye no echoes sweet of words 
The breezes bore so softly by, 
Or thrilling melodies of birds 
That on the air can never die ? 
Why, autumn stars, so brighUy shine. 
When all this gladness once was mine i 
Yet, autumn stare, 1 will not chide; 
Ye move me to a gentler spell; 
My heart's deep-flowing, surging tide 
Your holy benedictions quell; 
Again the song of hope 1 hear; 
Love’s embers warm to brighter glow; 
The June will come another year; 
Its gladness I again shall know;— 
O autumn stars, since faith is mine 
Ye cannot now too brightly shine 1 
READ.—RE^AV.— SUBSCRIBE! 
This is a Great Country, just now, according to the 
Politicians, or Political Partisans,—but Election will he 
over soon, and then People will calmly realize that, who¬ 
ever is President, whatever Party predominates in State 
or Nation, the Productive Power of Producers is the great 
Reliance of the Republic. Families must be informed and 
educated. Corn grown. Stock improved, and many daily 
duties discharged in any event. Hence we announce that— 
THE CLOSING QUARTER 
Of Vol. SIX of the RcRAn New-Yorker commences 
Oct. S, under most favorable auspices. We propose to 
make the Thirteen Numbers of the Quarter (offered on 
Trial for Only Fifty Cents, ! more interesting and valuable 
than any preceding quarter’s issues. 
THE RURAE’S AIM 
Is to continuously excel in all the essentials or a Progres¬ 
sive, Timely, Entertaining and Useful Rttbab, Liter- 
art, Family and Business Newspaper,— and the issues 
of the present Quarter, (Oct. to Jan’y, i as well ae those 
ol Vol. XX, for 1800, will more than ever before manifest 
the spirit of Its Motto, “ Excelnor," and Objects, “ Pro¬ 
gress and Improvement," 1 
PRESENT AND PROSPECTIVE. 
As indications of what the Rural will be in the early 
future — the present Quarter, and following Volume—we 
refer with confidence to its past Numbers and Volumes. 
The lamp of over a quarter of a century’s experience in 
Rural Journalism will be our guide, and with greatly in¬ 
creased means and facilities ought to enable us to improve 
as we advance. Drawing upon this ample fund, we pro¬ 
pose to furnish during the coming Three Months the 
Best Rural, Literary and Family Weekly ever 
published, to be followed, in 180U, by a Volume far 
superior to any' similar one obtainable,—in fact, 
THE BEST WEEKLY IN AMERICA! 
This is strong language, certainly, but most seriously 
uttered, and with a determination to “■fill the bill." fYe 
mean all we say, and the myriads who have toted our 
promises and performances during the past twenty-five 
years, —while conducting the Michigan Farmer , (3848— 
3846,) Genesee Farmer , (1840 to 1819, inclusive,) and the 
Rural New-Yorker since its commencement in Jan., 
1850, — know that our pledges are always fully re¬ 
deemed. How we propose to surpass ail former efforts 
will be announced to Boon as arrangements now being 
made are perfected. Meantime those devoted, active, 
working, influential friends of the Rural and its Objects 
who have generously sustained it from ten to nearly 
twenty years,—nobly seconding all our efforts to augment 
its value, circulation and consequent usefulness in Coun¬ 
try, Hamlet and Town,—need not be assured that (D. V.) 
neither labor nor expense will be spared to render it 
eminently worthy the continued and increasing support 
of all whose interests it advocates. 
THE OLD FOGY FAF.MER’S BULL AT THE FAIR, 
As we passed out of town, it was a luxury to 
breathe; therefore we did little else, except that Mr. 
Hills and C’onsin Dora kept up an animated con¬ 
versation ; they had instantly recognized each other 
as old acquaintances. Dora was not so softly sen¬ 
timental as usual; she did very well,—only sighing 
and letting her eyes droop occasionally. Through 
all the afternoon, too, as we sat at dinner, or out on 
the porch, or rambled through the orchard, (thesun 
had drank np every rain-drop before we reached 
home) 1 noticed that Cousin Dora seemed to have 
more life and animation than 1 had ever seen her 
manifest before. There was quite a flush in her 
cheeks, and even the dejected ringlets seemed to 
pick themselves up a little. 
1 was greatly pleased that Mr. Hills admired our 
Wood’6 Hun so much. As he and I walked slowly 
down to the brink of the hill below the house;— 
looking down abruptly, what was almost a precipice 
of slate rock, to what, had been a slate quarry be¬ 
low,—he spoke in most admiring terms of its seclu¬ 
sion, verdure and loveliness. 1 sat down on a huge 
boulder to arrange a handful of roses I had plucked 
coming [down the hill; he &tood looking down at 
the quarry, at the little village below, at the Ohio 
winding its way westward, at the green meadows 
and woods beyond. Refreshed by the recent, shower, 
everything luxuriated in loveliness. Mr. Hills, as 
he stood there, seemed to drink it in like draughts 
of wine. His dark, Spanish eyes, with their wist¬ 
ful, dreamy beauty, lit up and shone; the outline 
of his features settled into a quiet calm; he lifted 
bia hat as some cool breezes came sweeping up the 
hill, and I said to myself—“If Mr. Hills had & sis¬ 
ter she might, at this moment, be proud of a very 
handsomebrother,” 
He spoke, at last; first to thank me as 1 offered 
him my bouquet of rotes; then to say thatbe would 
keep them as long as possible. 
“O, no,” 1 replied; “not those. I will gather 
some fresh for you before yon go home, if you care 
for them.” 
“ I do,” he replied; “ thank you sincerely,—but, 
indeed, I should prize anything that reminded me 
of this beautiful place. Miss Ruth, if every one 
inclined to evil could be brought to live in some 
such lovely spot, would they not be restrained ?” 
“ I don’t know; the boys come here often to steal 
fruit. Nothing seems to have any restraining influ¬ 
ence upon them.” 
“ But they are city boys,—are they not?” 
“ Yes, some of them. But our next door neigh¬ 
bor has a boy who is the ringleader in all kinds of 
wrong-doing. He has just escaped the House of 
Refuge several times." 
“ But won’t he illustrate my theory, still ? Has 
he been long in the eouutry ?” 
“ Since he was two years old.” 
“ 1 must give him up, then. It may be, too, be¬ 
cause 1 have always lived in the city that I have a 
sort of reverence for country purity and innocence.” 
—[To be continued. 
genuine, heartfelt prayer that Lambert Willough¬ 
by breathed, albeit he was not commonly a prayer¬ 
ful man,— 
“Got> grant we may find many more years as 
happy as thiB has been!” 
And in her heart the wife responded, Amen! 
Just, a week later Dr. Willoughby was called to 
Philadelphia to consult with a medical brother on a 
difficult case. He must jonrney rapidly, and deemed 
it best that Eleanor" should remain at home. 
Husband aud wife parted as loving ones part, and 
twenty-four hours subsequent he was with the 
physician who desired his aid. The case was a 
complicated one, and repeated councils were held, 
detaining him a full week- He returned to Wll- 
generally actuated by the noblest impulses. 
Lambert Willoughbt bad been educated a phy 
Rician, like his father before him, "" 
Entered accordbijE: to Act of Congress in the year 1&68. by D. I>. T. Monnc. 
in the Office ol the Clerk of the District Court for the Northern District 
of York. 
The paternal 
Wtllouoitbt practiced physics for the love of it, 
and in generosity towards the poor in the vicinity 
of Willoughby Hall,—not because he was obliged 
to. Bis patrimony was more than ample to main¬ 
tain the family and family equipage. As the same, 
with accumulations, was to descend to Lambert, bis 
need of a profession was not apparent, hut the old 
doctor had some sensible notions of his own touch¬ 
ing this point, and would have th"tn followed out. 
And luckily the hoy inherited his father’s tastes, 
and took to medjeipe and the scalpel with genuine 
zest. He studied with his father, received his diplo¬ 
ma from a medieal college of good repute, and 
would have made his mark in the medical world 
had but necessity compelled him to put forth his 
talents. 
The young wife, Eleanor, had a face that, was, 
and was not, beautiful. From a passing glance you 
would have called it handsome. Scanning it closely 
you saw that the features were too irregular for 
that. Yet the general contour was good, and the 
lexpression at, first pleasing, then fascinating, The 
eyes were full, deep, and intense, and seemed to 
throw a radiance over the whole countenance. 
Rather thin lips, a trifle compressed as they c losed 
above a chin too square to be beautiful, spoke of 
strength of character, and a will that might be still 
latent, but that would certainly develop Itself 
should occasion demand. She who was now mis¬ 
tress of a time-honored house, had been an orphan, 
aud poor. A year before, Dr. Willoughby had 
found her by a sick bed in a distant city, where his 
services were accidently demanded, and had been 
deeply impressed by her impressive face. He sought 
her out, found her worthy, won her love, and had 
brought her to share his quietly pleasureful life. 
It was fortunate that he had no family friends to 
question the propriety of his pr ceedings, and that 
in gratifying his love he did not ran counter to any 
stubborn prejudices in his own heart. 
Mrs. Allgood, wedded at twenty-three, widowed 
a year or two later, was now at forty-five a smiling 
matron, with such a sunny-hearted manner that 
you could not help wondering why she had so long 
worn the weeds. 
Master, and mistress, and honsekeeper,—they will 
be much to each other in the years to come, will 
they not ? 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
Willoughby Hall was one of those really English 
homes common enough over the water, but rather 
exceptional here. It was built by a Willoughby 
exported from England in the Colonial days, and 
the family patronymic had dung to it ever since, 
through all its changes and remodelings, for the 
estate had gone down in the good old way from 
father to son. Lambert W illoughby the first, if 
we may eall him so, (there had been several Lam¬ 
berts under the Georges,) had two sons, but one 
of them did good service for t he Colonies after that 
little affair at Lexington, and finally was killed by 
a stray shot at Yorktown, as rewa’rd for his dis¬ 
loyalty to the King, so there was but one heir to 
Willoughby Hall. He succeeded to it in due course 
of time) and was blest with only one son, when hie 
wife died. He never married again, and Lambert 
third came Into possession at the old man’s death. 
Two daughters and one son were granted to him, 
but the daughters died in their teens, and the son, 
—father of the present Lambert,— saw but one boy 
grow up. Five years before this young man’s mar¬ 
riage, Lambert the. fourth gave up the ghost, 
WILLOUGHBY HALL 
Written for Moore’s Kura! New-Yorker, 
every womanly way. As the mistress of his home 
she was to be its Priestess,—reigning over love, and 
happiness, and faith. All its joys and hopes were 
to be colored by her; all its possibilities were in her 
keeping. The truth and the trust of the days to 
come were committed to her care, and the harvest 
of her guardianship might be a harvest of weal or a 
harvest of woe, as she willed it. IVhat wonder, 
then, that she wore a serious look, as she heard the 
welcome spoken? What wonder that the fond hus¬ 
band felt her tremble as she leaned upon his arm ? 
His was a discerning nature, and the cause of her 
emotion he readily divined- He had not thought of 
it before, but now it seemed to him that she would 
have appeared lacking in deep sensibility had she 
come into the old bouse with only a gay word and 
a merry laugh; and In Ms heart he deemed her more 
than ever worthy of his worship. 
In silence be drew her through the drawing room 
and into the quaintly-furnished parlors, thence to 
the twilight of the dining room and out upon the 
broad veranda fronting on the lawn. There, as the 
shadows of the distant, trees came lengthening to¬ 
wards them with the sun’s declining, he said again, 
“ Willoughby Hall welcomes Its mistress!" And 
he added, with a more tender earnestness, “We 
will brighten the old place with our love, Eleanor, 
and gladden it with new pleasnres. May a kind 
Providence make our one-life the better for the 
generations that have here grown into and out of 
their being! Some benefiting influences must be 
left where others have loved, and sorrowed, and 
prayed; and I wo old fain believe we may enrich our 
experiences thereby.” 
She gave in answer a smile that had hope and love 
in it, and that spoke more beautifully than mere 
words could speak. 
They were silent for an interval, while the shadows 
crept nearer and nearer to them until the lawn was 
spanned by the ghostly outlines. His thoughts 
were of those to whom he had alluded, and whose 
silent influence he fancied must still cling around 
the home they bad left to him. She was thinking, 
maybe, of the girlhood so lately given up, of the 
sweet enjoyments that should be blended with the 
new responsibilities, and dreaming out a happy 
future for them both. The reveries of each were 
natural enough. He was standing where his father 
and hl6 father’s father and grandfather had stood 
before him, under the same circumstances. They 
had, like Mm, looked forward to years of joyful con¬ 
tent,—had indulged in dreams of a life rich with 
happiness. Were the dreams all realized ? Would 
his own be realized as fully? And she?—She was 
of a meditative disposition, apt to look at things on 
the side of their deepest import. If there was any 
meaning in aught about her, 6he felt it in all its 
intensity. 
He broke the silence first, called back to the duty 
of^tlie present, by the slight fatigue apparent ia hie 
companion’s manner. 
“ But come, Eleanor. This is a poor welcome 
that leaves you so long unrefreshed. Let us prepare 
for dinner. Dame Allgood will be getting impa- 
LINA AND I, 
Our Trial Trip, from Oct. to Jan.,—13 numbers.—will 
be forwarded at Only Fifty Cents, so that ail who wish 
to see what the Rural is can do so for a trifle. Now is 
the time to renew , or try the Trial Trip, Will not our 
Agents aud Subscribers aid us by introducing the paper 
to the notice and support of friends and acquaintances ? 
[Continued from page 316, last No.] 
Lina listened, sadly and tearfully at first, more 
hopefully afterwards. She did not dare to discour¬ 
age him,—it might be for the best. Harry wa6 
going with him, too,—quiet, steady Harry, whom 
uo will-o’-the-wisp ever drew into the swamp. 
(Jlear headed, truthful Harry,—J nst the companion 
for warm-hearted, impulsive Tom! 
Harry was« carpenter. His ideal day-dream—he 
had op|C, of ' Aurse, like all the rest of us — was 
sou-eumu to tiJeOLue a m&t>ter-f)n> filer and a; eblteet 
The tF'u oroitiers were Very unlike, though stran¬ 
gers sometimes mistook one for the other. Their 
hair, eyes and complexion were of the same color; 
but there all sort of resemblance ceased. Harry 
wne the taller of the two; bia hair, which was 
straight,—not a wave or curl in it,—he always wore 
cut. close, as though be hadn’t time to bestow fur¬ 
ther attention upon it. Tom’s was curly; he had 
only to run his fingers through it to throw it back 
over Ms head in perfect ringlets. I u&ed t.o think 
he was secretly a little vain of it, though vanity 
found but little lodging room with him. 
Harry was a far deeper thinker than bis brother. 
Tom was “handy” with tools, but Harry had 
more of constructive talent and executive ability. 
He had a longer head, broader, fuller forehead, and 
deeper eves, than Tom. His brain was cooler, his 
hand steadier, both his will and temper firmer. 
Sometimes these men of firm determination and 
undaunted perseverance are also men of very cold 
affections; when those qualities are the result of a 
persistent stiffening of the will and temper, grad¬ 
ually, as under the influence of a rasping, raw, east 
wind, every lovely green thing becomes rigid and 
h&r6b. Harry’s disposition, to those unacquainted 
with him, often seemed of this type; tie was so 
quiet and cool, and his grayish blue eyes had such a 
Keen, observant look. “ VVh.it a cold muu,” said a 
gay beauty once in my hearing. “I wonder if he 
ever loved anybody.” I only smiled and didn’t take 
the pains to’ inform her. Through personal ac¬ 
quaintance,—by hearing Tom and Lina talk about 
him,—from what every friend he took into his con¬ 
fidence 6aid of him,—! believe 1 knew Harry An¬ 
drews well; and I knew that he possessed as affec¬ 
tionate and unselfish a heart as ever beat in 
human bosom. He was sensitive and reserved to a 
fault. As I now look back, and see things in a 
clearer light, than I could in those young days, I 
understand him belter than 1 did then, though I 
never thought hitn cold-hearted. On account of 
the social friendship which had always existed be¬ 
tween our two families,—deepened, of course, when 
Tom became Lina’s acknowledged lover,— both 
Habbt and Tom had always treated me as a petted 
younger Bister, willful and spoiled perhaps, but 
then they had helped to spoil me. 
It was not an unpliable stiffness of muscle, then, • 
that made Harry’s strokes so unerringly true to 
the mark; but a far finer, rarer girt, — as rare as 
poetical geuius, aud, like it, having too many coun¬ 
terfeits. Patience, an invincible patience, clothed 
every nerve with its 6oft sheath. 
1 u&ed to think Harry would have made a good 
father, or a good guardian of youth in any rela¬ 
tion, for this wonderful gift of forbearingness. It 
gave a fatherly look to his face; one felt at rest and 
peace in his care or under his guidance. His man¬ 
ner, even toward Tom, only two years Ms junior, 
had a touch of the paternal in it Tom in his secret 
soul loved and admired Harry ; the affection exist- 
ALTHAKI WATCHES 
In consequence of the creat success attending our system 
of Belling genuine Waltham Watches to persons Jn remote 
parts of the country at less than New York City prlees, we 
invite the hnyer’s eiireful attention to our list of prices : 
Hunting Case wuteli In J o/. silver Ctuv . . tin no 
The siitne Watch in 3oz Stiver Case. 20 00 
The same Watch in 4oz. Silver Case....... . 22 50 
The saniB, Extra Jeweled, $2 additional. 
The same, Extra Jeweled, with Chronometer Balance, $i 
additional. 
The Stiver Cases are warranted equal to coin. 
The Watches to be sent bv Express, A OCOJYIPA NIED 
WITH AMERICAN WATCH COMPANY’S 
certificate OF CENCINGNESS. 
THE BUYER TO HAVE PRIVILEGE OF EX- 
AMINAT!ON IN POSSESSION OF EXPRESS 
COMPANY. 
Purchasers an* requested to compare our prices 
with that asked for spurious, inctnl imitation 
Watches, of no vnlur. and which find n market 
solely because the buyers are entirely ignorant 
of their (iiiulfty. 
Address nust be plainly written, and purchaser must pay 
express charges. M. E. CHAL’MAN <St CO., 
973-tI-os No. 47 Liberty Street, New York. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS. 
Rochester, N. Y 
DT Answer in two weeks. 
Receive their Teas by the Cargo from the best 
Tea districts of China and japan, and sell 
them in quantities to suit customers 
AT CARGO PRICES. 
For Moore’B Rural New-Yorker, 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 20 letters. 
My 10.1. 8,10, 9 is a river of Asia. 
My 7, 2,1,19 was an ancient city. 
My 20, 3, 8, 3&, 12 is a City of France, 
My 10,17,10,11 is a sea of Asia. 
My 6. 2,12,16, 4,10 Is a city of California. 
My 17, 5, 13 is a lake in Ireland. 
My 15, 3, 9,18 is a town in Pennsylvania. 
My whole is what every farmer should subscribe for. 
Deansville, N, Y, Nettie Dickinson, 
fW Answer In two weeks. 
CLUB ORDERS PROMPTLY SUPPLIED 
PRICE LIST OF TEAS. 
OOLONG (Black,) 70c„ 80c., 90c., best JUKI ft. 
MIXED (Green and Black.) 70c., 80c.,90c..best $1 ? ft. 
ENGLISH BREAKFAST (B)RCk.) 80c., 90c., $1, $1,10, host 
$ 1.20 * ft. 
IMPERIAL (Green.) 80c., 90c., $1, $3.10. best $1,25 V ft. 
YOUNG HYSON (Green,) 80c., OOo., $1. $1,10, best $1,25 * ft. 
UNCOLORED JAPAN. 90c„ $1. $1,10, best *1,25 ? ft. 
COFFEES BOASTED AND GROUND DAILY 
GROUND COFFEE, 20c,,2Sc.,30c.,85c., best dflc.per pc-sad. 
Hotels, Saloons, Boarding-House. Keepers, and Families who 
use large quantities of coffee, can economise In that article 
by using our French Breakfast and Dinner Coffee, which we 
sell at the low price of 30c. per pound, and warrant to give 
perfect satisfaction. 
ROASTED (Ungronnd,) SQc,, 35c., best 40c. per lb. 
GREEN (L'nroasted,) 2f.c.. 30c., 33c., best 35c. per lb. 
We warrant all the goods we sell to give entire satisfac¬ 
tion. If they are not satisfactory they can be returned at 
our expense within 30 days, and have the money refunded. 
GREAT AMERICAN TEA COMPANY, 
Nos. 81 & 33 Veaey Street, 
Post-Office Box 5,643, New Yovk City. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHARADE. 
Wutle the morning mists yet rise, 
Ere the sparkling dew-drop dries, 
Forth the farmers speed; 
Bow the golden heads of wheat 
As the scythe’s sharp edge they greet— 
My first some call the deed. 
Fierce the rays of noontide sun, 
Kt’.i! the busy strife goes on; 
By them breezes steal; 
Down drop sheaves and scythes and rakes, 
Hat from brow each worker takes, 
My second cool to feel. 
Thus each moment is employed— 
Save when with breakage they’re annoyed 
And forced my whole to do. 
In garnering the ripened gram 
From coming storms of wind or rain, 
TUI harvest work is through. Dbnio, 
Answer in two weeks. 
1 AA FABMEB8-OR FARMERS’ SONS, 
MFD can secure employment, paying from $100 to $150 F 
month, from now until next spring. 
Address, at once, ZE1GLEK, McCURDY & CO., 
975-4t Philadelphia, Pa. 
W ANTED, AGENTS -$75 TO $200 FEU 
month, everywhere, male aud female, to introduce 
the GENUINE IMPROVED COMMON-SENSE FAMILY 
SEWING MACHINE. This Machine will stitch, hem, fell, 
tuck, quilt, cord, bind, braid and embroider in a most supe¬ 
rior manner. 
Pbioe only $18. Fully warranted lor five years. We will 
pay $1,000 tor anv machine that will sew a stronger, more 
beautiful, or more elastic seam than ours. It makes the 
•* Elastic Lock Stitch.” Every second ditch can be cut, and 
BtllltUe cloth cannot be pulled apart without, tearing it. We 
pay Agents from $75 to $200 per month and expenses, or a 
commission from which twice that amount can be made. 
Address, BECOME & CO.. 
Pittsburg, Pa., or Boston, Mass. 
CAUTION.-Do not be Imposed upon by other parlies 
palming off worthless cast- iron machines, under the 6ame 
name or otherwise. Onrs Ls the only genuine and really 
uractical cheap machine manufactured. 975-lSitoa 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PROBLEM. 
I sold sheep -a lamb sold for ft, as much as a sheep -if 
I had received 75 cents more I would have had just twice 
ae manv dollars as I sold animals; a sheep and lamb cost 
$3.25. "Required the number of each and price per head. 
Granger, N. Y. C. L. Cudbeo, 
;r*r~ Answer in two weeks. 
CHAPTER X. 
The next Sunday morning Lina, Cousin Dora and 
I attended St. Aodrew’s Ciiureh. After service, as 
we passed into I’enn street, Mr. Hills met us, and 
turned back with ub; and as we walked slowly over 
the bridge, Tom Andrews overtook U6. We picked 
up father in Allegheny; aud, entering a horse-car, 
we all proceeded countryward. On our way thither 
a passing cloud accommodatingly got between ns 
and the fervid sun, tent down some cool winds, and 
then a summer shower, which laid the dust and 
aroused the breeze, which, laden with balm, came 
floating into the car, like Ariels from spice islands. 
a andall with glad faces; in a 6hady alcove, with the 
j" light half shut away from it, the dinner of poverty— 
j two or three pinched faces bent longingly over the 
5; meager supply; close by, an elderly couple, who 
y have eaten together so loDg that a meal alone for 
[) either would be only half an one, and who cherish 
^, memories of dinners more cheerful far for the young 
ft, voices that were sweeter to them than the dessert; 
py diners with smiling faces and (liners with knit 
SPLENDID PHOTOGRAPHS MAILED 
for 25 cent;. Address B. FOX, 34 Vai ick St., Nr. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma: 
Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore. 
Answer to Problem4,816 pins feet. 
Answer to RiddleA bed. 
Answer to Illustrated. Enigma: 
And art with her contending, doth aspire 
To excel the natural, with made delights. 
dt»-i OAA A YEAR TO AGENTS TO SELL tlie 
GLlSfrU Stni’ Shuttle Sewing Machines. Fall 
particulars free. Extra i ndu reffitmts to experienced agents. 
Call on or address >V. G. WILSON & CO., Cleveland, Ohio ; 
Boiton, Mass., or St. Louis, Mo. 971-lStos 
a Day for all—Stencil Tool Samples free. 
Address A. J. FULLAM, Springfield, Vt. 
