OUR FALL CAMPAIGN! 
skilled in fenrgery. 1 hud built agreat many chateaux 
de Spain on that foundation ; but yon have added a 
new one, I will lay aside a certain portion of my 
income (smiling a train,l to erect in some suburb the 
most beautiful, tasteful ideal of a home that ever 
was conceived, with such grounds around it as 
should entice fl Peri to think it her lost Paradise. 
I may be forty- live, nr thereabouts, before it is com¬ 
pleted,—but what of that?” 
“Nothing at all,”' I replied, laughing. “Now, 
out Oakland way, there are superb little villas,—hut 
the people are some of the American aristocracy,— 
* shoddy,’ you know. 1 am afraid you wouldn’t 
like them.” 
“No, we must look in some other direction.” 
“ There’6 the Germantown road,” 1 continued, 
<< with the most charming scenery ; hut there’s a 
pretty strong flavor of Dutchmen and Dutch cheese 
all alone the way. Beyond Germantown, though, 
there are the most picturesque hills. Lina has 
some intimate friends who live on top of one of 
them,—an English family.” 
“ That Isn’t so bad, then,” he said. “ We’ll think 
of Germantown further, at our leisure.” 
“ Wt!" J thought to myself. “ 1 should like to 
know, sir, what you pretend to mean. ” But as 
some interloping sunbeams came round where we 
were, just then, he offered me his arm to return up 
the hill, and 1 hadn’t time to think further of it, as 
“Do you know where my wife is, dame All¬ 
good V” was the question he had repeatedly tried 
to ask, and which now first found utterance. 
“Would to God 1 did, master .Lambert, she re* 
sponded ; “ but I do not.” 
<i y ou can tell me when she went away ?” 
“Three days before you came home, sir. The 
afternoon previous she did not come down to din¬ 
ner, and I rapped at her door to see if it might not 
be she was sick. She answered my rap, sir, by say¬ 
ing 6he did not wish any dinner and should not come 
down. I wanted to send something up to her, and 
so I said, sir; but she wouldn’t let ine; and 1 
thought mebbe the poor thing was grievin’ that 
you did not come back. Next morning she did not 
appear at breakfast, and I came up to her room 
again. She opened the door to me then, sir, and 
told me to order up the carriage, she was going out 
for a ride. She looked pale and sorrowful, sir, as 
AN AUTUMN SONG 
What have rustling leaves to say, 
Fit to make us sad or glad ? 
Ere the wind blew us away, 
Much delight in life we had. 
Now we both of ns are sad. 
Both of us would death defer— 
Ton, because you Bre not clad, 
We, because we always were. 
This is what the brown leaves say, 
With a sadness less than mine, 
Dear, if I should die to-day, 
Give me something to resign. 
[Robert Weeks in Galaxy. 
READ,—RENEW,— SUBSCRIBE! 
WILLOUGHBY HALL 
nerveless grasp, and, hiB form all a-tremble, he tank 
into a chair beside him. His face was colorless, and 
suddenly shrunken as with age; his eyes were fixed 
and vacant, seeming to stare beyond present sur¬ 
roundings ; while a cIobc setting of the lips gave 
indication of some passion hidden within, that 
threatened to obtain the maBtcry. 
When a positive expression came back to the 
man’s face, it was one of absolute terror. His eyes 
glanced down at the penciled note by his feet, and 
his whole aspect was that of abject fear. He even 
looked about the richly furnished apartment with 
strange suspiciousness, as though half expecting a 
secret foe’6 appearance, Weaker and more cow¬ 
ardly than a woman, you would have called him, 
seeing him at the moment. And afraid of what l 
Had some ghost of the past come back to visit him 
in vengeance? Did he see accusing spirits leering 
at him from ont the ill-omened message,—spirits he 
had thought exorcised long since ? 
He stooped to pick up the note, at length, but 
drew back as if it contained some repellent power. 
Again be looked around tfce room, this time with a 
sad, pitiful light in his eyes,—for he was coming 
back to the thoughts of a few minutes previous. 
His wife, loving and beloved, was gone,—gone be¬ 
yond his care,—gone,—and that hastily written page 
was her only leave-taking. Here was her escretoirc, 
where, doubtless, the misery-telling lines were 
traced; all about him were the evidences of herself. 
It could not be. He was the victim of 60 me wild 
and terrible phantasm. His fancy was playing un- 
oleasant tricks. He would break away, and he 
fact; bnt we net al-uig all right geu’ally, I baint 
had but one streak >’ bad luck this summer: : n’ that 
was two mile fv.iV > r on. I’ll show you the place 
when we get then*. That off leader there got a 
little scar't, and tore round some,—he was new on 
the road, then, you see, V hadn’t got broke in.” 
There was no mui s talk by either until they turued 
a bluffy point, and «- 
over the rocks ab< c in a s 
mu i- 1 
narrow valley to 
Cousin Dora laughed. “ That mounded so funny 
to me at first,” she said. A backet of water ! We 
always say pail in New York.” 
“Yes,” rejoined Mr. Hills, with a smile; “it 
took me some time to learn tue vernacular here.” 
‘•And me, in California,” said Tom. “1 had to 
learn a new vocabulary there.” 
“I notice,” said Lisa, “ yon call a backet a pad." 
“Ob, yes ; i lived among Eastern people there,— 
Down-East Yankees, I believe,” 
“Of course (hey would be there,” rejoined Mr. 
Hills, laughing. “ Wasn’t the very first man you 
saw, od landing, a Yankee? and didn’t he want you 
to buy a Connecticut clock?" 
“ I don’t remember abouttheclock,” replied Tom ; 
“ but it actually was a Yankee, talking through his 
nose, who first accosted me. 1 recollect that very 
well. He wanted to know ‘what Slate i hailed 
from?’ and when! told him Pennsylvania, he asked 
me * if 1 was a Dutchman, and if 1 would tell him 
how to make Dutch cheese, for he could makes for¬ 
tune on it there! ’ 1 dir owned both the Dutchman 
and his cheese, but told him I believed 1 could man¬ 
ufacture xmearkaxc, which was the next thing to it; 
aud he had me opto his boarding place that very 
. I gave him all ueces- 
,%rae to a brook which tumbled 
_J_ cries ol pretty cascades, 
ran across the high way, and went winding along the 
narrow valley to join the Little Forks, River. A 
plain looking farm bouse, set back some rods from 
the. road, and a wa.tr trough projected through the 
rnde fence in front, supplied from the &tream above. 
The driver reined up to water his horses. 
“This is the place, stranger. That off brute 
didn’t fanev cornin’ t>p to the drink you see, so she 
danced round till sue. managed to run me off the 
narrow bridge there and upset the coach.” 
He was unchecking “that off brute” as Wil¬ 
loughby inquired,— 
“Were any persons hurt?” 
“ Only one,— a woman. 1 hadn't hut two passen¬ 
gers inside then, V both o' them was women. One 
was oldish,’n’sin: d’dn'tgithurtabit. T’other was 
young ’n’ han’si v ... When 1 got things righted 1 
found her mo*i t to herself, like as though she 
was conBid’ablr . which she said she guessed 
she was, ’n’ so I g 'oung chap who was with me 
outside to help W er up to the old bouse yon¬ 
der, ’n’ there wt- 7 her.” 
“How long age > it that, driver?” There was a 
sudden interest It uhe speaker’s tones. 
“’Bout two months, I guess. 
“Did you stop afterward to see whether she was 
much injured?” 
“Yes; stopped on my next trip. The yonng 
woman sat in an easy chair, lookin’ mighty pale and 
pretty, when 1 went in. She said she was only hurt 
a little, ’n’ she w»6 rather glad of it, for she had 
found some old lriends, ’n 1 was goin’ to stay awhile 
with ’em, she wouldn’t trouble me any more. I’ve 
wanted to see them eyes o’ hern since, but I hain’t 
stopped agin.” 
He looked up and Baw his passenger’s face flushed, 
and his eyes all aglow with excitement. The next 
question was put nervously, and in a voice hardly 
steady. 
“Did she have dark hair and large, beautiful 
black eyes?” 
“ She did that” 
The questioner sprang to the ground. 
“1 think 1 know me lady, driver. 1 think she 
must be — one of nr y friends. At any rate I’ll go up 
to the house and See. 1 will not detain yon long.” 
An ri Dr. WILLOOGHBY walked up the path to the 
farm house door with hasty steps, more hopeful of 
finding his lost one than he bad been before in many 
days.— [To be continued. 
Gur Trial Trip, from Oct. to Jan.,—IS numbers,—will 
be forwarded at Onlt Fifty Cunts. so that all who wish 
to see what the Rural is can do so for a trifle. Now is 
t/ie time to feral e, or trv the Trial Trip. Will not our 
Agents and Snoscribers aid us by introducing the paper 
to the notice and support of friend- and acquaintances ? 
TUALTHAiM WATCHES. C. ©. D. 
A GREAT SUCCESS ! 
In coneennenoc ol the ere at success attending ocr system 
of selling gen Bin i- Waltham Watches tn persona in remote 
parts of the country at lees than New York City prices, we 
invit>- the buyer's careful attention to oui list of prices 
limiting Case Watch In a oz, Silver Case . --fw W 
The same Watch in 80S S'lver Case-- go 
Ti,.-. laiv.e Watoh in 4oz. Silver Oast . At 50 
The aatne, Extra Jewoiod, aaaivloi.s. 
The sauu*, Extra Jeweled, with Chronometer Balance, $4 
additional. , 
The Silver coses are warranted equal to com. 
The Watches lo ne sent b.v Express. ACCOM PAN5EJD 
WITH AMERICAN WATCH COMPANY’S 
CERTIFICATE OF GENUINENESS. 
THE BUYER TO HAVE PRIVILEGE OK EX¬ 
AMINATION IN POSSESSION t/F EXPRESS 
COMPANY. 
PorelmsrrM are requested to compare out bvIcm 
will, iliai naked for npnrioux. nietnl IniltnMon 
Wntchei, of no value, aud which find n market 
solely because the bujere are- entirely ignorant 
of ilieir uuuliiy. 
Address moat he plainly wi Itten, and purchaser moat pay 
express charges. M E. CHAPMAN & CO., 
A *9 I.lhurtv S!rPFt. New 
night to tell him nil about it, 
a ary directions.’' 
“And what success?" inquired father. 
“X am sorry to say,” laughed Tom, “1 don’t 
know. Harry aud 1 left San Francisco the uext 
morning, and I never saw my friend again.” 
“ You must have been quite a cook in your youth, 
Tom,” remarked father. 
“O, yes; you know sister Bahah got married 
when l'was only ten years old; and as mother had 
no daughter ol a serviceable age, sue put my neck 
into the yoke.” _ , , .. 
•• it’s good for a man that he bear the yoke in his 
youth,” said father, quoting Scripture rather Lrrever- 
entiy, for a deacon.—[Continued on page 329. 
diately following, convinced her that help was 
needed. She stepped ont and rang the bell for the 
coachman, who answered it promptly, and the two j 
proceeded at once to their master’s room. W ith her 
mind prepared for something dreadful, the good 
housekeeper was nevertheless shocked to see the 
yonng doctor lying sensei ess before her, all signs 
of life fled. Bnt ordering J obn to place him on the 
bed, she next despatched him for a physician, while 
she set about restoring animation to the limp form. 
When Dr. Pillsby came he fouua his patient re¬ 
vived, bnt delirious, and said there was great danger 
of brain fever. He left such medicinee as he deemed 
proper, and enjoined Mrs. Allgood to see that her 
master was kept perfectly quiet. And the good 
woman observed his instructions to the letter, yet 
apparently without avail. 
Lambert Willoughby grew worse through the 
night, and by morning brain fever had fairly set in. 
He was wildly delirious, at times, and would call for 
his Eleanor with a sad, moaning cry that drew tears 
from Mrs. Allgood’s eyes, and made her weil-nigh 
angry with her mistress for going away. Wholly 
angry the kind-hearted housekeeper conld not he, 
however,—for Eleanor had won her love and confi¬ 
dence, and the note which Mrs. Allgood found on 
the floor showed her that the husband was not thus 
deserted for trivial reasons, bnt that some real or 
fancied wrong was at the bottom of it all. 
Beal or fancied,— which? Mrs. Allgood asked 
herself the question many times every day, during 
the next fortnight. At the first she believed the 
sick man could not he guilty of a real wrong; and 
she longed to see him once more “ clothed and in 
his right mind,” that the fearful matter might be 
explained away. But when in his wildest delirium 
he besought Eleanor to forgive him, and whispered 
other names than hers, the kind-hearted woman 
Bhook her bead, and doubted. 
As she had nursed his father during his final ill¬ 
ness, so did she nurse him, and even more tenderly. 
Night and day she was his almost constant attend¬ 
ant. “If he has done no wrong, and should die,” 
she reasoned with herself, “the poor mistress Elea¬ 
nor would unconsciously he responsible for his 
death.” Therefore she watched over him as she 
would have watched over her son, had she been 
blessed with one. Therefore she noted his symp¬ 
toms with a keenness that quite surprised Dr. 
PlLLSBY. 
An d to her solicitude, without doubt, Lambert 
Willoughby owed his life. For after three w eeks 
of uncertainty he became himself again,—himself, 
menially; only the shadow of himself, physically,— 
and spoke to Mrs. Allgood in a perfectly rational 
manner. He was not clear, at first, concerning 
what had taken place, but his attendant forbade him 
to talk, and indeed he was too weak to attempt it 
much, so he could only lie still and wonder over it. 
’ He thought it all out, after a little,—his coming 
home, the message he found, and the unconscious¬ 
ness that followed. How long he had been sick he 
f could not tell. Not in a week longer did Mrs. All¬ 
good allow him to question her. At the end of that 
time he was strong enough to sit bolstered up in 
' bed, and could bear to talk as well as think of the 
. sad event that had wrought such a change. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
COMPOUND ENIGMA. 
A word is composed ol twelve letters. 
Toe first two constitute a common noun of the feminine 
gender. 
The first three, a verb denoting spoliation. 
The firs Hoar, the name ol a fieatfien god of the mascu¬ 
line gender. 
The first five, a name applied to many tracts of land. 
The fourth to the eighrii, inclusive, an auxiliary verb used 
in both the indicative unci potential mood. 
The fifth to the eighth, the name of a room found in many 
houses. 
The sixth to the eighth, an adjective which can have no 
higher degrees of comparison. 
The fourth to the ninth, the solemn form of the auxiliary 
verb mentioned above. 
The ninth and tenth, a preposition generally used after 
verbs, of motion. 
The ninth to the eleventh, the name of a textile fabric. 
The ninth to the twelfth, a common name applied to a 
small politica 1 division of a country. 
The tenth to the tweJlth, a verb denoting possession. 
The word is the name of a to wn in Iowa. 
Thornton Osmond. 
er Answer in two weeks. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
LINA AND I 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
POETICAL PROBLEM. 
pie; and 90 there are in town, dome of the most 
noble men and women i ever knew, live just over 
there in the city of Allegheny; and a few, true and 
good as the day is long, have homes on these hills.” 
“ You may be entirely right,—no doubt you are,” 
he said. “ It stands to reason. What 1 was think¬ 
ing of was the probable effect ol these sweet influ¬ 
ences arouud me.” 
“ But, Mr. Hills, you have just come lrom town ; 
aud such a town or smoke and grime as Pittsburg. 
Country people get U6ed to these surroundings, and 
indifferent to them. A great many of them say 
they ‘would much rather live in town, aud see 
what’s going on, than in this lonely place.’ ” 
‘•Ah, you have the best of it,” he returned, 
siuifing. “Yon are acquainted with both tuues of 
the question; 1 with only the city side. 1 must 
acknowledge, my visions of country life were some¬ 
what Utopian. What, tuen, about a mingling of 
the two,—spending summers in the country, and 
winters in town ?" 
“ J wouid like it, only that it seems like having 
two homes and neither ol them a real one.” 
“Ah, yes ; you Pittsburg people think so much 
of possessing a home. We m New I ork, who move 
every first ol May, scarcely think of it. We are like 
roving Arabs, only we do not carry our tents about 
with us.” 
“ i remember,” said I, “ father’s saying once that 
ol all conditions of American lile, he disliked that 
of living in rented houses the most. He felt like 
the Wandering Jew.” 
“Then there was a time when yon lived in a 
rented house?" 
“ 0, yes, sir. We lived in different houses in Al¬ 
legheny, till about three years ago. 1 never 6hall 
forget the, pleasure with which father told us, one 
evening in early spiring, that he had bought a house 
and lot at Wood's Run, and we were to oe country 
people fiencefortfi. Lina had been drooping and 
all that winter, bnt this news revived her. 
“No wonder. Miss Ruth, yon have struck ont 
a new path of ambition lor me. 1 intend, sometime, 
you know,‘(smiling) to become a famous physician— 
A bkrrinu, a ben, and a bam, 
Were set on tbe table before ub ; 
A bottle, a bowl, anti a dram. 
Two shillings a piece bail a score of us ; 
, The fish was uhe-Uitfi of the lowl, 
The lowi was one-fifth of the bam, 
The bottle one-filth of the whole. 
And so was the bowl and the dram. 
What is the amount ol the whole, and the price of each ? 
Craigilee. MC^ ‘• 
B3T Answer in two weeks. 
8REAT AMERICAN TEA COMPANY 
Nos. 81 & 33 Vesey Street, 
Post-Office Box 5,643, New York City._ 
ANTED, AGENTS- TO $20.0 PER 
month, everywhere, male and female, to introduce 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
anagram. 
VV month everywhere, mate ana lemaie. 1 
tee GENUINE IMPROVED COMMON - SENSE FAMILY 
SEWING MACHINE. TIiIh Machine will stitch, hem, fell, 
ruck. qnTit cord! bind, braid ana embroider in a mosUupe- 
^SmiK^onlv SIS. Fully warranted jot five years. We will 
pay *81,000 for any machine that will sew a SLr ,” D f fT; 
beautiful, or mote elastic seam than ours. H makes “J® 
Kiaatie Lock Stitch.” Every aecouu stitch ran be cut, and 
still the cloth cannot be putled apart without Tearing u. TV e 
nav A^pms from f/iB to 8200 per tcont.j and expenses, or a 
commission lrom which twice amomnl «&u be made. 
Address, putaborg, Pa., ox Boston, Mass 
A VKAU TO AfiENTSTOJEirtb. 
[Hulenced agents. 
1 wone a nufyu tlltel uam, 
Sa tique as a sumoe, 
How seeds het chiefism hatt is node 
Hi erveyddby’s ehnoe. 
Bheret’ on noe veer seee sin cafe, 
Dan lye ew lal ragee, 
Han veery iutep ew krobe taw kedcrac 
Yb Mr. Noobyd. 
£g?“' Answer in two weeks. 
John. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
mathematical problem. 
particulars free. Extra tudnremwu 
rail on ov address «. G. w II.SOL & < 
Boston, Mass., or St. Louis. Mri. _ 
di»0 iiun A YEAR, noil BX.I* 
to lute dace the. lio-io: 
Stitch alik mt tmthMOes. tjaruptr.* toi 
Inducements to expri n need *rg.'i*ts 11 
address the Wjlmot Bnwixo Machine 
A, B and C are to saw oil - a log BO inches in diameter, 
and each one is expected to saw one-tnud ol it. Re¬ 
quired the deptn teat each one mast. saw. 
Hanover, Micb. John Thompson. 
Answer in two weeks. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma:—A cat maj 
a king. 
Answer to Charade: - Maryland. 
Answer to Kiddie Nothing. 
Answer to Anagiam: 
Uiveme the man whose hands have tossed 
The corn-seeds to r he mellow soil, 
Whose feet the forest depths have crossed, 
YyhoEe brow is nobiy crowned with toil. 
a sacrifice of joy,— that from the altars of the ever 
lasting hills was rising incense to heaven ? Some 
