JAN. %7 
CORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
“WAITING FOE THE SHOT.” 
The last number of the London Illustrated 
News had a spirited picture, which wo re¬ 
produce for the readers of the Rural New- 
Yorkeb. It is from a painting by James 
Hardt, Jr., and belongs to the “ Dudley 
Gallery.” The News says:—“To lovers of 
deer-stalking, this picture will probably 
have a stronger sporting than artistic inter¬ 
est. It indicates the supreme moment of 
suspense In one of the most exciting kinds 
of field sports. The game is sighted, but at 
the slightest sign it may vanish, and no 
chance of overtaking the same herd would, 
alertness and their bright, keen eyes; and 
the characteristics, both human and canine, 
are rendered with very skillful and descrip¬ 
tive handling.” 
- 4 -*-*- 
WHAT THE MICROSCOPE REVEALS. 
Lewenbeck tells of an luseot seen with 
the microscope, of which twenty-seven mil¬ 
lions would only equal a mite. Insects of 
various kinds may be seen in tbe cavities 
of a grain. of sand. Mould is a forest of 
beautiful trees with the branches, leaves 
and fruit. Butterflies are fully feathered. 
Hairs are hollow tubes. 
The surface of our bodies is covered with 
scales like a fish; a single gx-ain of sand 
would cover one hundred and fifty of these 
scales, and vet a scale covers tivu hundred 
©ur Storn-®cllcr. 
BEFORE AND AFTER, 
A THRILLING ROMANCE OP THE 
WAR FOR THE UNION. 
Written Expressly for Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
BY TWO WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. 
SI.-Sunshine and Sorrow. 
[Continued from pa«e 5S, last number.] 
“Dear me; there comes that George!” 
sighed Mrs. Heathekstonk, as a quick, im¬ 
petuous tread was hoard approaching, “ and 
those dreadful dogs, too! I wonder if that 
with keeping the brutes standing on their 
hind legs, begging for the orurnbs from hex- 
plate. 
“Point, go over and say good morning to 
Mrs. Heathexxbtone ! ” said the saucy 
George, so full of vlux and mischief that ho 
was unable to resist this golden opportunity 
Of teasing his nervous mamma. “That is 
Mrs. Heatiikhstone — there on the sofa I” 
continued the incorrigible, addressing the 
shaggy Newfoundland. “ Go immediately 
and say good morning! I have Just taught 
him this trick, Maggie.” 
Vei-y slowly, but with evident knowledge 
of the business required of liim, Point 
marched over to the sofa, seated himself 
very demurely, and with the utmost digni¬ 
ty, directly in front of the invalid, then 
WAITING FOR THE SHOT. 
in all likelihood, be pi-esented for many, 
weary miles. The stalkers must not betray 
their covert till the far-ranging rifle bullet 
has a chance of striking. The shot fired, 
then the dogs may be let loose, but not one 
moment before. If a hit, they may yet have 
far to run before they bi-ing the stag to bay 
or pull him down. The pictorial merits of 
the piotxire should not be ignored. It is a 
capital study of character. The cowering 
old gillie, with his grizzled hair, weather¬ 
worn face, and sharp, gray eyes, seems to be 
almost of the same breed as the leash of 
shaggy deer hounds, with their sagacious 
pores. Through these nari’ow openings the 
sweat forces itself like water through a 
seive. 
The. mites make five hundred steps a sec¬ 
ond. Each drop of stagnant water con¬ 
tains a world of animated beings, swimming 
with as much liberty as whales in the sea. 
Moral .—Have some care a3 to the air you 
bi-eatbe, the food you eat, and the water 
you drink .—Home and Health. 
-- 
Susan B. Anthony says that more than 
45,000 people have, heard her lecture on the 
“Social Evil.” 
boy ever will find out that he is lacking in 
dignity.” 
“Well done, Mag! Just eating your 
breakfast? Sick or sulky, which? Neither, 
ch! Now that's wonderful! and how’s 
mam ma?” inquired the young gentleman, 
entering the room with his usual bound. 
“ Do put those dogs out, George!” as two 
enormous animals followed him in, and im¬ 
mediately surrounded Margaret. “ Mar¬ 
garet, do you hear me—don’t feed thoso 
dogs at the table! There isn’t a particle of 
order in this house from one end to the 
other!” as the young lady amused herself 
raised his large paw and deliberately waited 
for the lady to shake it. But she took no 
notice. 
“Point will sit there 'till the crack of 
doom if you don’t shake hands with him, 
mamma," said George, evidently finding 
it difficult to keep from shouting. 
Mrs. Heatherstonk drew her dainty 
cambric handkerchief from hor pocket, 
wrapped it carefully round her delicate 
hand, and then extended it to the brute. 
“Don’t touch it Point,” said his master 
sternly. The dog withdrew his paw, but 
still waited. 
