MOORE’S RURAL WEW-VORKE 
Radies' f)ot[t-(Jjoliff. 
TIRED MOTHERS. 
A little elbow loans upon yijur knee. 
Your tired kneo. that bus mi much to bear; 
A child's dear ores are I nokins lovingly 
From underneath a tlnitch of tangled hair. 
Perhaps you do not. heed the velvet touch 
Of warm, moist tinkers, folding yours so tight 
You do not priiO this blessing over-much. 
You almost are too tired to pray to-night. 
But it is blessed ness ! A year ago 
1 did not see it as I do to-day,— 
We are so dull and thankless; and loo Blow 
To catch the sunshine till it slips away. 
And now it seems surpassing strange to me. 
That, while I wore t Ire badge of motherhood, 
1 did not kiss more oft j,nd tenderly, 
The little child that, brought me only good. 
And if, some night when you sit down to rest, 
You miss this elbow from your tired knee; 
This restless, curling head from offyour breast. 
This lisping tongue that chatters constantly; 
If from yotir own the dimpled hands had slipped, 
And ne’er would nestle in your palm again ; 
If the white feet into their grave had tripped, 
I could not blame you for your heart-ache then 
I wonder so that mothers ovcv fret 
At little children clinging to their gown; 
Or that the l'oot-prints. when the days are wet. 
Are ever black enough to matte them frown. 
If I could find a little muddy boot. 
Or cap, or jackets on my chamber Moor; 
If 1 could kiss a rosy, restless foot. 
And hear Its patter in my home once more: 
If l could mend a broken curt to-day, 
To-morrow make a kite, to reach tho sky— 
There is no woman in God's world could say 
She was more blissfully content than l. 
But ah I the dainty pillow next my own 
Is never rumpled by a shining head;— 
My singing birdling from its nest is Mown ; 
The little boy I used to kiss is dead ! 
[Mrs. Albert Smith. 
4 ♦ » 
PICTURES. 
It is rare, in those days ol' photographs, oh ru¬ 
in os, and engravings of all kinds, to seawalls on 
which there Is not some attempt, at, the display 
of artistic taste, or lack of taste, as tho ease may 
be. In some old farm houses, wo still see the 
extremely proper-looking young ladies, with 
oorksereweurlsund red cheeks, labelled" Hose,” 
“ Matilda," or “ Mary Jane.'* Or the lachrymose 
lady, leaning on a tombstone Overshadowed by 
a weeping willow. Or the soldier boy, in the 
glory of now regimentals, taking an alfectionate 
adieu of ids lady love. Sometimes we lind 
paintings in wafer colors, eray< ns, or oils, done 
by the lady id' the house, whoso blue roses and 
scarlet violets would drive a florist crazy. Or if 
hor tastes incline t«r the Rosa Hunuhuu stylo, 
we sec nice little animals, which are so accom¬ 
modating that wo can call thorn dogs, sheep, 
cats, or pigs, just as we choose. 
Steel engraving from magazines look very 
prettily in home-made or rustic frames. One of 
the prettiest ! oversaw was simply a gnarled 
and knotty branch, bint around in an oval 
shape, the twigs trimmed oil and the bark left 
on and varnished. Among the great variety of 
beautiful chromes every one can select some¬ 
thing with which to beautify the walls of their 
homes. To be sure ehromos tiro imitation of 
oil painting, and while I despise shams when 
they take the form of cotton lace, oroide gold, 
and Alaska diamonds, I am heartily glad of tho 
Invention of ehromos, which bring t he beauty 
of paint ings to those whose limited means would 
not admit of the purchase of the originals. 
We often sec documents In frames which 
would be jiiiieh better put away in drawers 
Masonic charts, family records, diplomas and 
marriage certificates. 
It is a downright piece of selfishness for the 
head of the family to hang a masonic chart on 
the walls. It may lie a satisfaction to him to 
look mysteriously wist* over its signs and sym¬ 
bols, but to bis wife who is com polled to have it 
before her eves mosi of the time- It. Is sug¬ 
gest ive of nothing except the nights site has sat 
up awaiting the return of her liege lord from 
the lodge, and what woman wants to be cou- 
tinnally reminded of them? 
Some people have a fancy for adorning their 
walls with, portraits ot all tho Presidents and 
Generals. Of course it is merely a matter of 
taste, but I aril too tired of hearing the re¬ 
spective merits and demerits of Grant and 
Greeley discussed, to wish to contemplate 
either of their faces upon thy walls. Perhaps, 
if I were supposed to be capable of voting, I 
might think differently. 
Photography can make the dear faces of 
friends—" wanderers world wide," or waiting 
for us beyond the river-smile upon us every 
day from our walls, and sometimes, in dark 
hour*, comforting us like ti.eir real presence. 
In selecting pictures, remember there is noth¬ 
ing one tires of so soon as comic pictures of 
any kind, while a good landscape is a joy for¬ 
ever. Grace It. Bartholomew. 
■- 4-44 - 
A western writer describes a Dolly Varden 
dress as an animated old-fashioned window cur¬ 
tain thrown over rt red bridle wall. 
A young lady lias brought a libel suit against 
her mother, as the only means to get a mother- 
in-law. 
“ Figures won’t lie,” is not supposed to apply 
to a fashionable woman's figure. 
How to prevent your wife from scolding you 
—Don't marry. 
WHAT IT IS TO BE A WIDOW. 
A whiter in the Home .journal llius llltingly 
rebukes the flippancy and thoughtlessness of 
some young women: ( think it must be a 
jolly tiling to be a young widow! ’ 1 hoard this 
remark the other day in a group of laughing 
girls. I think l remember saying such a thing 
myself in my girlish times. I to you know, girls, 
what it is to be a widow? II is to be ten times 
more open to comment and criticism than any 
demoiselle could possibly be. 11 is to have men 
gaze as you paw;, first at your black dress and 
(lieu at your widow’s cap, until your sensitive 
nerves ipilvcr under the infliction. It isto have 
one illuatimal person say, ‘ 1 wonder how long 
she will wait before she marries again ?' and 
another answer, * Until she gels a good chance, 
I suppose.' It is now and then to meet the 
glance of real sympathy, generally from the 
poorest and humblest woman thal you meet, and 
feel your eyes till at the token, so rare that it is, 
alas! unlocked for. It is to have your dear fash¬ 
ionable friends console you after the following 
fashionOh, well, it is a dreadful loss. We 
knew you’d feel it dear.’ And, in the next 
breath, ‘You will bo sure to marry again, and 
your widow's cap Is very becoming to yon.' 
" Hut if is more than this to he a widow. It is 
to miss tho strong arm you have leaned upon, 
tiie true faith that you knew could never fail 
you, though all the world might forsake you. 
It is to miss the dear voice that uttered your 
name with a tenderness that none other could 
give it. It is to hour no more the well-known 
footsteps th.il you flew so gladly once to meet. 
Tosco no more the taco that to your adoring 
eyes seemed as the angels of God. To feel no 
more the twining arms that folded you so lov¬ 
ingly, the dear eyes that, looking into your own, 
said plainly, whatever it might seem to others, 
yours wits the fairest face earth held for Dim. 
It is to Ilglu with a mighty sorrow as a man 
lights with the waves that overwhelm him, and 
tnliuliiil al arms' length for awhile only to have 
—In the hours of loneliness and weakness—the 
torrent rollover you, while— poor storm-driven 
dove you see no haven." 
-♦♦♦-- 
MENTAL POWER OF THE SEXES. 
Ft hoarding ibis oft-discussed question, Pro¬ 
fessor Handley snys; “It has been affirmed by 
some philosophers that there is uo essential dif¬ 
ference between the mind of a woman and that 
of a man; ami if a girl wore subjected to the 
same eilueatiou as a boy, she would resemble 
him In tastes, feeling, pursuits and powers. To 
my mind it would not bo one whit morn absurd 
to aflirui that the antlers of the stag, human 
beard, and the cock’s comb areellVets of oduca- 
cation ; or t hat by putting a girl to the same ed¬ 
ucation us a buy she could bo sexually trans¬ 
formed into one. The physical and mental dll' 
formers between the sexes intimate themselves 
very early In Ule, aud declare themselves most 
distinctly at puberty. If tin- person is her¬ 
maphrodite*, the menial character, like the 
physical, participates equally in that of both 
sexes. If either sex i ; mutilated, it approaches 
in character tho opposite sex. While woman 
preserves her sex, she will necessarily lie fee¬ 
bler than man, and, having her special bodily 
and mental characters, will have, to a certain 
extent, her own sphere of activity. When she 
has pretty well divcsteil herself of her sex, she 
may then take his ground and do his work; but 
she will have lost her feminine attractions, and 
probably also her chief feminine functions.’’ 
- 4 - 44 -- 
WOMAN’S GROWTH. 
There is a period in the early life of every 
true woman when moral and intellectual growth 
seems for the time to cease. The vacant heart 
seeks for an occupant. The intellect, having ap¬ 
propriated aliment’requisite to growth of the 
uncrowned feminine nature, feels the necessity 
of more intimate companionship with the mas¬ 
culine mini! to start it mi'.its second period of 
development. Here, at this point, some stand 
for years, without making a step in advance. 
Others marry and astonish, in a few brief years, 
by their sweet temper, their new beauty, their 
high accomplishments, and their noble woman¬ 
hood, those whose blindness led them to sup¬ 
pose they were among the Incurably heartless 
and frivolous. 
- 4-44 - 
This is one of the newest descriptions of a 
Dolly Varden:—“The starboard sleeve bore a 
yellow hop-vino In full leaf, on a red ground, 
with numbers of gray birds, badly mutilated by 
the seams, flying hither and yon in wild dismay 
at. the approach of a red and black hunter. Cal¬ 
vary Mission infant class was depicted on the 
back, the making up of the garment scattering 
truant scholars up the sides aud on the skirt, 
while a country poultry fair and a group of 
American hunting dogs, badly demoralized by 
tho gathers, gave the front a remarkable appear¬ 
ance. The left sleeve had on it the alphabet in 
live different languages.” 
A young lady at Council-fllutfs, being in¬ 
formed by her “feller” that ho intended to 
cease bis attentions, cow hided him round the 
room, and, as he sprang through the open win¬ 
dow, told him, with a parting lick, that that 
would teach him to be more careful for tho fu¬ 
ture not to trifle with a gentle and loving heart. 
First ruffian:— “Wot was I hup for, and 
wot.'ave I got? Well, I floor'd a woman aud took 
her watch, and I’ve got two years and a flog¬ 
ging." Secoud rullian :— 1 “ Ha! I flung a wo¬ 
man out o’ the top floor winder; an’ I've on’y 
got three months." First ruffian“Ah, but 
then *he teas yer wife /” 
ilea ding fog the fgouttg. 
LITTLE SORROW. 
AMONG the thistles on t in* hill. 
In tram nut Little Sorrow ; 
" 1 see a black cloud la the West, 
’Twill bring a storm to-morrow. 
And wlien it storms, where shall 1 be? 
A ml what will keep tho rain from mo? 
Woo's mesaid Littiu sorrow. 
“ But now tiie air is soft-and sweet, 
Tho sunshine bright,” suit! Pleasure, 
“ Here Is my pipe If you will dance. 
I'll wake my merriest measure; 
Or, if you choose, we'll sit beneath 
The red rose tree, and t wine a wreath ; 
Gome, enme with me, ' said Pleasure. 
“ 0,1 want neither dance nor flowers— 
They're not for mo,” said Sorrow, 
“ Whon the black cloud is in the West, 
Anil it will storm to-morrow 
And If It storm, whtrtsha.il 1 do ? 
i have no heart to play with you¬ 
th.) ! go!” said Little Borrow. 
But lo ! when came the morrow’s morn, 
Tho clouds were all blown over; 
The lark sprung singing from his nest 
Among the dewy clover; 
And Pleasure called, “ Cornu out and duneo 
Tu-ilny you mourn no evil chance; 
The clouds have nil blown over!” 
" And If they have, alas ! alas ! 
Poor comfort t hatsaid Borrow; 
" For if to-day we miss this storm, 
'Twill an roly come to-morrow— 
And be the Mercer for delay! 
1 am too sore at heart, to play; 
Woe’s mn!" said Little Borrow. 
| Mitrlan DuutjUixx, in our Yov/iuj Folks. 
- 444 -- 
HOW TOM HARTLEY GOT HIS WISH. 
BY LAURA SOUTHGATE. 
Everybody in tho town of H - seemed to 
be astir. All tho boys in the town were, I'm 
sure. For several days, large printed bills, with 
pictures ol' lions and tigers, had covered the 
leiioes here and there, all around; and these 
were to tell that a grand cireus was coming. Be¬ 
side the wild animals, which were in greal cages, 
there were three elephants; then there were 
ponies, with monkeys to ride them, and trained 
horses, and tho funniest looking fellow of a 
down. Altogether, there was a great deal to 
see, and it's no wonder the hoys were half crazy 
over it; I'm sure I should have been myself. 
AVell, very soon the music was heard, and how 
delight fully if sounded that bright, sunshiny 
morning! “There! there! they’re coming,” 
cried ever so many of tho boys at once, and in a 
moment they saw the cloud of dust way down 
thO road, 
" 1 wonder If the Ilona over gel out ?” said lit¬ 
tle lion Emmett, as they all stood watching. 
“ I guess we'd all run if they should," said 
Dick Upton. 
“Pooh! run! 1 wouldn't,” said Tom Hart¬ 
ley. “I’d just like to see them running round 
loose would’rit it bn Jolly!” 
“ I guess you'd be scared if tho elephant should 
step on you,” said Hon. 
“Seared! now what do you think I’d do? 
I'd just push Ids foot away, and I'd give him a 
great kick; and I guess ho woluldn’t step on me 
again.” 
Now, TOM always talked in this grand way, 
and the boys thought ho must be very brave. 
It’s true one time he fluttered a red shirt among 
the geese, and when the old gander flow at him 
Tom ran screeching like a loon. Then another 
time he roared lustily because he thought a cow 
chased him. 
Well, pretty soon the circus came up, with the 
elephants, and the ponies, and the horses, and 
tho great cages; but the best of all, was the 
great gilded ear, drawn by eight elegant horses. 
It certainly was the most splendid carriage that 
ever was seen—all gold and crimson the boys 
thought that none but kings over had such mag¬ 
nificent carriages lo ride in. 
Pretty soon the Circus company canto to the 
great tent which had been put. up for them, and 
tbe elephants, and ponies, and ear, and every¬ 
thing else went in, and then no one could sec 
anything more but by paying twenty-five cents 
and going to tiie performance. But all the boys 
had saved their money, and the next day they 
all wont. 
There they were, F don’t know how many of 
them, and they managed to get up on a plat¬ 
form, ami all the people of the town were sit¬ 
ting round on seats, one above another. 
“ Oh, sec! see! they are going to begin," said 
Bill Myers, as some men dressed in velvet and 
covered with spangles, came from behind a cur¬ 
tain. Then the ponies canto out with monkeys 
riding them. And the monkeys were dressed 
in funny dresses, and tho funny things they did 
were more than I can tell. The clown was there, 
too, and his clothes were striped red and white 
and blue, and he had groat patches of paint on 
Ins face. Tin: drollest antics lie cut up that 
wore ever thought of. The boys shouted and 
roared with laughter, and everybody else did, 
too. 
Pretty soon the elephants did some very won¬ 
derful things, and then, at last, out came the 
trained horses, and then the clown was fun¬ 
nier than ever. 
One of lhe horses was named “ Dan," and be 
could Jump over high bars and walk on his hind 
logs, and T don't know what all else. Then 
there was “Beauty,” and lie could waltz, ami 
when the clown turned his back a moment, 
“ Beauty ” would pull his cap off; and then the 
clown would scold him, and “Beauty" would 
get down on ids knees to bog pardon, and then, 
pretty soon, ho would lto down and pretend he 
was dead. 
Thou next came “ Hectorlie was a great tall 
horse, and he could jump very high, and snatch 
down a flag In his moiiUi. 
Well, all this lime the boys upon tho platform 
Imd been screaming and making a great noise. 
They called i>ut to rite clown, “Flore, Mister, 
give us a ride," and all sorts ol saucy things 
t hey had to say. 
Pret ty soon a monkey was brought and put 
on “Hector’s" back. “Oh! don't 1 wish I 
could ride him," said Tom Hartley. 
“Wouldn’t you bo scaredV” said Jack Wil¬ 
son. 
“Scared pooh! 1 shouldn't be scared if ho 
lumped as high as tho top of tho tent. The 
higher ho Jumped I he better I'd like it.” 
Just at that minute “ Hector ” kicked up his 
hind legs and t hrew tho monkey across the tent. 
But tho monkey picked himself up and ran 
after "Hector" and caught, him by tlie tail. 
Then ho commenced striking him with a stick. 
It didn’t hurt the horse at all, but lie pretended 
that it. did, and so be ran around the ring as fast 
as he could g o. 
But it happened lie stopped Just under tho 
Pin I form where the boys were, and us the clown 
came tip, Bob I'cton throw a piece of melon 
rind at his head, and Jack Wilson reached 
down with ft long stick he Imd, and poked the 
cap oil' his head. Then tho boys all shouted and 
stumped their feet, and screamed out all manner 
of rude things again. 
The clown looked very angry; he picked up 
bis cap, but no sooner had lie put it on his head 
again, than Tom Hartley renehod down with 
his stick to poke il. oil. But Tom's stick was 
not. long enough, and in muching down, over 
Tom went. He fell to Ilia groan lurid hurt him¬ 
self a good deal, but he hadn’t time to think of 
that, for quick as a wink, the clown picked him 
up and pm him on “Hector's" back. 
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” roared Tom, ns the clown 
cracked his whip, and "Hector” commenced 
running round the ring at an awful gallop. 
Tom thought ho should dio; ho tried to hold on, 
but lie screamed so loud “ Hector" wits fright¬ 
ened, and ran a great deal faster than ever ho 
did with the monkey. The down put up tho 
bars, and “ IFectqr " gave a great jump and wont 
over thoin. It almost took the breath out of 
Tom. I really think then the clown might have 
taken him off. But he didn't; ho clapped his 
hands and " Hector " understood what iic was to 
do; so ho kicked up Ins hind legs, and Tom 
went not exactly sky high, but over t he horse’s 
head and almost across the tent. 
of course it hurt Tom a great deal more Ilian 
il ever did the monkey, for tho monkey was 
such a little fellow, ami then ho always knew 
when “Hector” was going to throw him, and 
could give a.jump. Itqt there lay poor Tom on 
the ground, screaming louder than over he did 
in his life before. 
Then tho down took up a long iron rod that 
had a. hook at tho end of it, and he went up to 
Tom. “ oh, see," cried tho boys, “ lie's going to 
lick him." 
The clown came up to where Tom lay sprawl¬ 
ing on tho ground, and ho stooped down and 
looked at. him, no though he saw some very 
Curious thing that he never had seen before. 
Ilo looked In such a funny way, that, it made 
everybody in the circus laugh. Thou tho clown 
I>Ut the hoot* right through tho waistband of 
To.h' 8 browsers and hold him up. 
All the people shouted and laughed again, for 
Tom looked just like a crab stuck on the end of 
a poker. And so tho clown carried him over, 
and lifted him up to the platform. 
Poor Tom ! For my own part, I felt very 
sorry for him; but after that, ho never was 
heard to say that ho should like to ride on a cir¬ 
cus horse, and he never again was known to 
teaze the clown. 
mt JJiiidcr. 
HIDDEN MOUNTAINS. No. I. 
1. Home at last. 
2. I will happen in, Estelle. 
3. Andrew bit Eli. 
4. I agree not to tell. 
5. Lot Nature’s voice be heard. 
8. My task Is now done. e. 
HSf" Answer in two weeks. 
PUZZLE.—No. b. 
Answer in two weeks. 
- 444 -- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.—August 17. 
Illustrated Rebus no. 8.- -Apothecaries 
weight. Mrs. A. 1). Lee sends us tbe only cor¬ 
rect answer. 
Decapitation No. i.—S plash. 
Cross-Word Enigma No. 2. — Maine -Mist 
(CnHinanthus). 
Anagram No. 3.— 
See tins transparent waters of the rippling brooks 
How they search tho hidden places of the secret 
nooks; 
Perhaps to find some unfound pebble 
Yet beyond the reach of their untiring trace. 
Square-Word Enigma No. 1.— 
ROSE 
ORE It 
SERA 
E B A L 
