©ORE’S RURAL 
Safe’ |3oi;t- Jolio. 
A HAPPY HEW YEAR. 
J!Y KATE WOODLAND. 
A Happy New year for the children. 
Who gladden onr home and hearth ! 
A Happy Now Year for the little ones. 
All over the beautiful earth ! 
May the homes be freighted with pleasure. 
And the moments filled with bliss,— 
Until each little heart is ready to say, 
11 No year was ever like this.” 
A Happy New Year for the maiden- 
The bride in her blushing bloom— 
May love gild the days with sunshine 
That leaves no shadow of gloom. 
A Happy New Year for the youthful, 
With hopes so buoyant, and strong ! 
May the choicest and purest, of blessings 
Fall ever their pathway along. 
A Happy New Year.for the parents. 
Who cherish with loving pride 
The blossoms of household beauty 
Which spring from the dear tlreside i 
May hopes that are fondest and purest. 
And wishes the dearest and best. 
Be realized freely and fully 
In hour* which, the. future makes blest. 
A Happy New Year for the aged 
Who are journeying down life's hill. 
With hands that are weary with labor. 
With feci that long to be still; 
May hands that are tender and gentle. 
And arms that art; faithful and strong. 
Make smooth every spot In their pathway- 
Mnke glad the last strains of life's song. 
A Happy New Year for the peaceful. 
Who have entered this morn Into rest— 
For the soul that Is weary With waiting, 
The dawn of the new year is blest 
Which opens to them the glad future. 
And brings back the loved ones of yore. 
In a land where no sorrow eun enter. 
And partings arc known, nevermore. 
Van Buren Co., Midi., Jan. I, IS"!- 
-- 
WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO 1 
C. E. D., Hampton, Va., writes as follows: 
“ Please tell me. what l can do to earn some- s 
thins?. I am a mother, with two little chil- s 
dren-ono three years ami tho. other nine „ 
mouths old. My husband has all he cun do 
to clothe aud provide for us, as this Is a poor 
country, aud there are so many things that < 
I want, such as a sewing unir.Iune, a small £ 
organ, aud other things too numerous to 
ment ion. If T could only earn something I , 
would bo 80 glad! What can 1 do ?” 
You ask a very perplexing question; one ; 
that thousands of women all over the coun¬ 
try are asking of themsol ves, if not of ot hers. 
To keep house aud care for two children 
properly, is quite enough for any one pair of 
hands to do. But with little or no society, 
leisure, a husband employing every facility 
to give, a pimple subsistence, how can a 
thoughtful, loving woman, and perhaps a 
laudably ambitious one, help asking “ what 
can I do?” 
There is nothing in the world so hard for 
people to cut loose from as custom, no mat¬ 
ter bow absurd it may be. It has beeu the 
custom for women to marry, and to expect, 
as a matter of course, that marriage was to 
be the comprehending, absorbing, satisfy¬ 
ing condition of existence for them. Crea¬ 
ted tor a helpmeet, the question how to be 
a helpmeet seems never to have beeu taken 
into consideration. T don’t believe woman 
was ever designed for work, in its true 
sense. But the scales of society have be¬ 
come so unevenly balanced that in order to 
modify discrepancies, women find it neces¬ 
sary to be helpmeets in the actual prosaic, 
hard-working sense, instead of the poetic, 
spiritual, and moral sense alone. And so 
the question, ‘‘What can T do?” arises. 
The work must be something to be accom¬ 
plished at home, in little chinks and rem¬ 
nants of hours. It can only be skilled labor, 
because women who marry are rarely trained 
mechanics or artisans. 
In many large towns sewing machines are 
sold and work enough furnished to pay for 
the machine, or the machine may be pur- ' 
chased aud paid for in installments, as one 
can earn the money. I have observed that 
colored people caro very little for needle¬ 
work, and usually hire their sewing done; 
aud in Virginia, where the race counts a 
majority of the population, a seamstress 
might do much in that way. Can you not 
supply some market with ilowers, or plants 
in bloom? Ts there uo market for fancy 
work, hand-knitting or embroidery? Such 
articles may sometimes be furnished to 
merchants upon application. If you under¬ 
stand cookery, why not establish a reputa¬ 
tion for those abominable eatables known 
as “ pies aud cakes,” in the Hampton mar¬ 
ket? Why not get enough subscribers for 
the Rural New-Yorker to win you both 
a sewing machine and an organ? 
Mint wood. 
- 4 * » • 
The prettiest American lady now in Paris 
is said to hail from Savannah, Ga. 
COUSIN HANNAH. 
How I dreaded her coming ! She was 
so neat in her housekeeping; had means to 
live in comfort, and was childless. 8he 
knew nothiug of the tumult and care foui 
healthy, romping children could make, and 
I imagined she would take little comfoit 
while with us. Our house contained but 
two rooms — aud their toys, mittens, shoes 
and hats, were frequent!} scattered over 
the floor. I was often discouraged trying to 
pick up after them, and 1 fancied Cousin 
Hannah would have trained them to put 
things in their proper places when not in 
use—at least she would think it an easy 
matter, having never had the trial. 
I tried to fix up aud lie ready. The little 
dresses aud aprons were clean in the drawei 
—a change for each day, as long as cousin 
would remain—resolved they should be as 
neat as possible. The eldest, not quite live, 
was a quiet child, but the three-year-old 
aud two-year-old were so full of fun and 
frolic I could not check their spirits, ami 
sometimes ‘‘I will,” aud “I won’t, were 
spoken very positively. 
Thus tormented with a false pride, T an¬ 
ticipated but little pleasure from cousin’s 
visit. How mistaken are our ideas of the 
happiness of others! tjjvo came, and a half¬ 
day convinced me she envied us our little 
children. With baby in her lap, and the 
rest in a group at her knee, her big heart 
seemed to cry out for such affection. Their 
little wants gave her employment, as in¬ 
stinctively they turned them all upon her. 
No need of coaxing acquaintance with any, 
so readily do children know their real 
friends. 
How often during that week did I thank 
Gon and take courage. Before cousin went 
away 1 told her I had dreaded her coming 
because of my noisy, romping children. A 
tear sparkled in either eye as she answered: 
“I envy them to you more than your farm, 
or any eartbl) T goods. These little toys, 
shoes, mittens aud childish dresses O, how 
suggestive of home and love! Little fat 
arms twining your neck, rosy lips lisping 
words of love, pattering feet making music 
on your kitchen floor! Wii.it more can you 
ask ? Surely yours is a goodly heritage.” 
We parted well pleased, and mouths af¬ 
ter, when discouraged, I would think of 
Cousin Hannah's lonely house and be 
grateful for the love of little children. 
Sadly A. Humes. 
Beading foil the foting. 
THE FOX AND THE CROW. 
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF LA FONTAINE. 
Master Crow, that r.ly old thief, 
Htul stolen a piece of cheese 
And retired to his family tree 
To eat it at his ease, 
When Master Fox, drawn by the smell. 
Came sauntering that way. 
And, in his sweetest accents, 
Bade his friend, the Crow, good-day. 
“ How do yon tlnd yourself ?” said he; 
“ Your health, l hope, is good, 
For In my poor opinion 
You’re the phenix of the wood. 
You arts so beautiful, Sire Crow, 
Like silk your feathers shine, 
And your voice, I hear from all your friends, 
Is equally as Une.” 
Tho vain old bird for singing 
Stretched his great throat open wide, 
The cheese fell from his beak 
Close to Reynard's side. 
Master Fox snapped up the cheese 
And said to Master Crow : 
My honored sire, there’s one thing 
That you do not seem to know— 
For all ili>' flattery you- receive 
You’ll surely hare to i"> !/■ 
This praise has cost you your cheese ; 
My silly bird, good-day.” 
Harrisburg, Pa., 1872. K. C. P. 
---- 
CHARLIE; 
j\_ Story for Very Little Children. 
BY >1. L. BARBER. 
ABOUT CHILDREN. 
Or. O. W. Holmes, In the February At¬ 
lantic, thus discourses about children : —The 
Old Master, who Isa bachelor, has a kindly 
feeling for this little monkey, aud those of 
his kind. 
“ 1 like children,” he said to me one day 
at table. “I like’em, and I respect ’em. 
Pretty much all the honest truth-telling 
there is in the world is done by them. Do 
you kuow they play the part in the house¬ 
hold which the kiug’s jester, who very often 
had a mighty long head under bis cap and 
bells, used to play for a monarch ? There’s 
no radical club like a nest, of little folks in a 
nursery. Did you ever watch a baby's lin¬ 
gers? I have, often enough, though 1 never 
knew what St was to own one.” The Master 
paused half a minute or so, sighed -perhaps 
at thinking wltat he had missed in life,- 
looked up at mo a little vacantly. I saw 
what was the matter; he had lost the thread 
of his talk. 
‘•Baby’s Augers," l intercalated. 
“ yes; did you ever see how they will 
poke those wonderful little lingers of theirs 
into every fold and crack and crevice they 
can get at? That is their first education, 
feeling their way into the solid facts of the 
material world. When they begin to talk, 
it is the same thing over and over again in 
another shape. If there is a crack or a flaw 
in your auswer to their confounded shoul¬ 
der-hitting questions, they will poke aud 
poke until they have got it gaping just as 
the baby’s Augers have made a rent out of 
that atom of a hole in his pinafore that your 
old eyes never took notice of. Then they 
make such fools of us by copying on a small 
scale what we do in the grand manner.” 
--♦♦♦-- 
A CONFIDING HUSBAND. 
During the trial of a case in Louisville 
last week, a witness persisted iti testifying 
to what his wife told him. To this of course 
the attorneys objected, and It was ruled out 
by the judge. He would proceed again to 
tell “ shust how It vaa," when the attorney 
would sing out, “ How do you know that 
“ My vife told me,” was the answer. This 
was repeated several times. Presently the 
judge, becoming unable to contain himself 
longer, interrupted, “Suppose your wife 
were to tell you that the heavens had fallen, 
what would you think?” “Veil, I think 
day was down.” 
When 1 was quite a little girl I went to p 
stay florae time with an Aunt Of mine, Site t 
lmd no children, but had a canary bird, l 
“Charlie,” which I thought most as good as s 
any little play-mate. He was a pretty bird; f 
bright yellow, and dark-brown. When I 8 
llrst came he did not seem to like me very f 
well. I think he was really jealous, for if ■ 
Auntie combed niy hair, he would fly round 
her head, and scold, as well as a canary bird 
can scold—chirp as sharp and cross'- But he 
«oon got over that, and us I fed him and 
cleaned his cage every day, giving him fresh 
water and seed, and a lump of sugar, he 
learned to like me better than his mistress. 
T had some flax seed, which 1 never gave 
him, unless he would come and eat it in my 
lap. I used to sit down on the carpet atld 
call “Charlie, come get- some seed!” and he 
would answer me as quick as a bird could— 
living down to tho floor—aud standing a 
little way off looking at mo. I would keep 
calling softlyTome, Charlie, get some 
seed, Charlie," and he would answer me and 
hop a little nearer, and a little nearer, turn¬ 
ing first one little eye Up to me and l hen the 
other, till at last hO was close- to me, when 
ho would fly up and light right in my lap, to 
pick up tho seed. 1 used to be so pleased, 1 
could hardly keep from laughing, and would 
callout very softly, “Oh, Auntie, see him! 
Do look aulek!" 
He would eat a few of t he seeds, and then 
take one in his hill, and Ay off to his cage to 
eat it there. Sometimes we could coax him 
on to the table while wo were eating, hut ho 
never would come if there Was a man at the 
table. Sometimes, when we were eating, we 
would drop a crumb on the floor, aud say: 
“ Charlie, go find it,” and he would chirp in 
answer und down lie would go and hop round 
till he found it, and then he would fly back 
to his cage with it. Once I found hint 
perched on the plate of cookies standing on 
the tea-table, helping himself. Every morn¬ 
ing I used to put fresh sand into his cage, 
but be seemed to like mud the best, for if J 
we came into the room from out of doors, he 
would fly round us aud tease in lilfl plain¬ 
tive little chirp till we sat down, when he 
would alight on our shoes and pick away at 
them. One day the minister called, and 
while the big folks were busy talking, I was 
deeply amused watching Charlie. Tho min¬ 
ister’s boots were all muddy, and Charlie 
sadly wanted to get a pick at them, but was 
afraid to come near to a gentleman. He 
flow round him, lit on the floor, and looked 
at the mud; then flew off again, then back 
again a little nearer, till at last he hopped 
close to his boot, when the minister saw him, 
and not thinking what he was after, moved 
the point of his cane towards him. This 
frightened the little fellow go that he did 
. not try for the mud any more. One day a 
r big cat jumped up on the outside of t he win- 
’ dow, trying to get at him. He flow right 
l straight to me, lit on my shoulder, and did 
> not. move till the cat went away. 
’! But, what used to amuse me the most was 
when he took his bath. Every morning I 
a used to put a saucer of warm water on the 
I floor, aud then open his cage door. Out he 
0 would fly, and soon he would - eo the water 
1 and go to it. He would walk all around the 
edge of the dish, then dip in his bill, then 
8top in and jump out, ns if it. was cold, but 
at last ho would got in and give himself a 
good washing, spattering tho shining drops 
all round; then he would hop out and light 
on the round of a chair to dry himself and 
fix his feathers—that is, dress himself, but 
I would say:—“Oh, Charlie, yon are not half 
washed, go back agaiu !” and back ho would 
go aud splash himself again, and then fly to 
the chair. But l would say:—"That isn’t 
enough; go wash again, Charlie,” and ho 
would go right back, and so throe or four 
t imes, till he was as wet as he could bo: then 
he would get vexed, aud when f said : -“ Go 
in again,” bo would chirp sharply at me, and 
tly up to his cage to dress himself there. 
After a while, another Aunt came with her 
little baby. Charlie did not know what to 
make of that; he had never seen a baby be¬ 
fore, aud seemed to think that there was 
something wrong about it. Flo would fly 
round it, then light as near to it as ho could, 
and stand and look at It, turning his littlo 
head first one side aud thou the other. Then 
he would grow jealous again, and sing, and 
try in every way to attract our attention 
from the baby to himself. Wasn’t he a fun¬ 
ny bird? 
Shall I tell you what became of him? Why, 
one day when tho baby was going away with 
her mamma—away over the sea—we were 
so sad and so busy, wo forgot nil about 
Charlie, and left the door of the room where 
tho cage hung, open, and out he flew, and 
out of the open window. It. was spring, and 
he seemed to enjoy being out among the 
green fresh loaves; but we knew lie could 
not find bis food, and would die of cold when 
night came, so we tried to coax him back in¬ 
to his cage, but though he stayed round the 
house all day, he would not come to his cage, 
and toward night, wo lost, sight of him. I 
fear some old cat got hold of him. I cried 
sadly for my little pet, and 1 never have 
found another bird like “Charlie.” 
®he fuller. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.- No. 4. 
jpW" Answer in two weeks. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. No. 2 . 
I am composed of twenty-five letters. 
My S3,1,11,10, 13 is the largest species of doer. 
My 9, 7, 3,15, 13 is a ladles name. 
My 23,17, 4,10 Is a native of Africa. 
My 3,12, 8,14,8,1«, « 1« the highest mountain in 
the world. 
My 17,5,18 is a preposition. 
My 7, 24, 2, 22,10 Is to respect. 
My 25,20,12, 3, 21 is anything unusual. 
My whole is one of ,tho proverbs of Solomon. 
j 5 gr" Answer in two weeks. Charlie. 
HIDDEN BIRDS,—No, 1, 
1 . How large your eyes are ! 
2. How render fit praiso? 
3. I see a gleam of light. 
4. Bo chief in charity. 
5. Ope, wee window! 
6. First, second or third ? 
7. Watch Krlo-ho winks. 
8. Repel I cannot. 
9. Rufus the Red started yesterday. 
10. What a queer looking fisherman. 
Forest City, Ill. Fourteen. 
Answer in two weeks. 
PROBLEM.—No. 3. 
What number is that, of which tho square 
root is equal to 2% times its square? J. m. b. 
jgy Answer in two weeks. 
-—.-- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS- Jan. 13. 
It lustrated REBUS No. 2.—He who fights and runs 
away, may live to light another day. 
Problem No. 2,—$1,220.17. 
miscellaneous ENIGMA No. L—The man who gets 
the most votes. 
Crobb-Wobd Enigma No. 1.—Mount Moriah. 
Transposition of Letters No. 1.— 
Remember, friend, as yon pass by. 
As rou are now, ao once was I: 
As I am now. so will yon bo 
Remember, friend, und pray for me. 
[catholic Gravestone. 
Answer to Rebus in ScppL£JiKXT.-Never praise 
a bridge till you are over It. 
