lattes’ iort-jfolicr. 
at the gate. 
The same beaten path through the clover, 
t pads down to the old meadow gate, 
Where you came In the sweet olden twilights 
q„ often, to listen and wait 
For the low. merry whistle that told you, 
(As s r, ft as oriole’s song) 
Of light' haPPy feet wer0 coming— 
Weary feet that have wandered so long. 
You smiled at ray faithful predictions 
Th:d love might, perchance, turn to hate, 
As you whispered the “nld, old story,” 
Leaning over the old brown gate; 
And bowed, while the cherry blossoms 
Wen; falling like scented snow, 
That Fate bed decreed that together, 
Our fortunes were ever to flow. 
Oh ! ninny a spring-time und summer 
Will blossom and fade and decay; 
And the years, bringing sunshine and shadow, 
Will circle their winters away— 
And life will grow bright aud beguiling. 
No matter if our love has flown; 
For hearts will grow used to their burthens, 
That curry them calmly alone. 
Boses will bloom where you planted 
Tborus for my careless feet; 
Sunniest walers caress the shores 
Where only the breakers beat. 
Wc learn from the false howdearly 
To pme the bravo und the true; 
Clouds only tell that beyond them, 
SbJuetb forever the blue. 
I stand ut the brown gate watching, 
Alone, in the twilight gray. 
While out through the gutes of sunset, 
Pasr.eth the radiant day ; 
And I pray that some swift, bright angel 
Will come when the years are run, 
From beyond the golden gateway, 
And whisper, “your watch is done.” 
Marlon, N. Y. D * 8 * 
---— 
letters prom rural women. 
Woman’s Extrnvnarance. 
I now summon courage to seucl you my 
sentiments on a subject 1 have for some time 
wished to write of, but fear you will not 
consider it worthy of publication. It is llio 
manner iu which the gentlemen talk of our 
extravagance, as they are pleased to call it. 
Now, if lhey will look at the matter rightly, 
they will see that It' we are a little extrava¬ 
gant sometimes it is in a great measure their 
why, have a little room of your own, and 
adorn it to your heart’s desire, and keep it 
neat to a fault if you will; and then if you 
tire of the sitting-room or kitchen, which¬ 
ever it be, go to your own, and enjoy your 
order and neatness to your heart’s desire, 
and as long as you can; but my word for it, 
that snatch of song, or hearty laugh, will 
bring you hack again, and you will feel all 
the better for the change. 
But, my dear sisters, do not encourage 
those little imps that sit on your shoulder 
and whisper discontent in your ear; shove 
them off; no matter if you do have to give 
them some hard knocks; if they think you 
are in earnest, they will soon leave, never to 
return. 
This is a glorious world, and if we would 
search as persistently for the good as we do 
for the bad in our fellow meu, we would he 
almost astonished at the amount of gootl to 
be found. We are prone to look at our 
brother’s shortcomings instead of seeing 
how the good overbalances all those little 
failings. 
Gather all the good and beautiful, and put 
them on as a garment to fit us for that man¬ 
sion in the Summer Land.—M bs. P. M. 
Ivilboubne. 
Home Life. 
Mary A. E. Wager’s article in regard to 
homes, must have found a hearty response in 
many hearts besides my own. I could 
hardly suppress my tears, as the picture of a 
family came to my ttllnd, which 1 will try 
to paint for the Rural readers ; hopiug that 
at least a few will he benefited thereby. 
of each other’s feelings—trying to teach them 
that the only true happiness in the world is 
in making others happy—trying to make 
them understand that their parents were 
their best friends—that they would nowhere 
find one more willing to sympathize with 
them in all their doubts, temptations and 
troubles, be they real or imaginary, than their 
mother.—C lara, 
The Poetry of Rural Life. 
The poetry of farming! — where is it? 
“ Tell me, ye winged winds,” or any one 
else who can, for I really ask for informa¬ 
tion on the subject. I have heard of a per- 
s-n living all his lifetime in sight of a most, 
beautiful landscape, but he never saw the 
bea ty nor dreamed of such a thing, till his 
attention was called to the fact by another. 
Il may be so with me; l may be living in 
tlie very midst of the poetry and pleasure of 
rural life, and my dulled senses fail to re¬ 
alize the fact., Therefore, O Rural sisters, 
I call on you to point me to the bright way. 
Blit please don’t mention, among the at¬ 
tractions of country life the “ woodland 
della, where liuy leaflets clap their merry 
hands and all nature smilles in serene hap¬ 
piness;” nor say anything about the “ pure, 
fresh country air." We have two nice 
“ patches of woods” on our farm, and often 
when I run out for an armful of wood or a 
pail of water, I look at them and think how 
pleasant it would he to sit. there and rest; 
hut the kettle waits for the water, the fire for 
the wood, aud back I go. And when the 
work is done, there is the baby—she cannot 
he left alone, and I think I prefer rest in- 
luting fhoplt. 
At the commencement of my acquaintance doors loan enjoyment of nature’s beauties 
witli this family, hardly ft pleasant word was 
ever passed between I he father and mother. 
Their faults were continually talked over by 
each other and exposed to all, or any, who 
happened to be present. The children were 
nevfer corrected except in anger, and if they 
dared to offer as an excuse for their offenses 
the strong temptations which beset them, 
they were met by their parents with con¬ 
tempt and ridicule. It they were in trouble, 
brought about, perhaps, by their own wick¬ 
edness or thoughtlessness, and desired to go 
under such circumstances. 
As to the " pure fresh air,” I think I’ve 
seen quite as pure air iu cities as that which 
is waited from the neighboring pig-sty. And 
when the wind sweeps from our big marsh, 
it. is most too fresh for comfort, or the well- 
being of the clothes switching on the clothes¬ 
line. (One must be practical at times). 
I should never have thought so ranch 
about this, were there not so much written 
and so much said about the beauty and poetry 
of Rural Life—by those who know least. 
CARHIE KISSED ME. 
ON a glorious), golden day, 
In the merrv month of May. 
’Neath a bright, cerulean sky, 
Many little maids aud 1 
To the wild Woods took our way. 
Ami there ’twus Carrie kissed me. 
In the airy hammock swung, 
Clear and loud tlieir laughter rung} 
Lightly ran they down the hill, 
Bathed tbolr white feet In the rill. 
Blithe us birds that o’er them sung; 
But none save Carrie kissed tne. 
Currie, fresh and llly-fulr, 
Charmed me with her winsome air; 
Toward me, smiling, turned her head. 
Something in a whisper said ; 
Back she flung her flowing hair, 
And bunding forward, kissed me. 
Carrie’s but a little girl; 
Dark her eyes—her teet h like pearl— 
Lips more rod, and sweeter fur 
Than the buds of rosea are ; 
No crowned king—no belted enrl 
Wortli envy while she kissed me. 
Purer (ban the morning dew 
Was that kiss—no guile it knew; 
It was such a kiss of love 
As the saints might give above, 
So that saint-like to ray view 
Was Currie when she kissed me. 
Brighter bloomed the flowers of May; 
Softer flowed the wild birds’ lay; 
Earth and Eden seemed to be 
Full of peace and harmony, 
All that long, delightful day 
When IRile Carrie kissed me. 
[W. L. shoemaker, in AhHne for June. 
TO THE BOYS. 
I wish to call the attention of youths to 
the importance of beginning life with some 
definite purpose in view. With an experi¬ 
ence of nearly half a century, my observa¬ 
tion hits led me to the conclusion that the 
great mistake of a large proportion of men 
and women is in their not starting aright— 
in not duly considering in the beginning 
what they are filled for, or what tlieir aim 
should he. Boys are put into an occupation 
temporarily, or permanently, as it were, by 
accident, without thought of their tastes or 
pretty pattern for a bristoi lx >1 transpa¬ 
rency. I have one with a cross surrounded 
by leaves; but I would like a different pat¬ 
tern. I will send that to the Rural if any 
one wishes it.— Florence, Muskegon , Mich. 
Mcdorn Hnrt’w Lou use mid Clm ir Covers. 
I have a lounge that I must tell you of. 
Il is made of walnut wood, has carved feet 
and is nicely varnished. My brother made 
it for me, and 1 have made a seat for it by 
piecing a cover like the mosaic window 
blind given in the Rural, only 1 used scraps 
of worsted instead of glazed calico, and 
divided the squares with hlaek instead of 
while. I made a cushion to fit ray 1 tinge 
frame, and fastened the cover over it. 1 also 
have two pillows to match the cover. 1 have 
a tidy on ray rocking chair, crocheted out 
of white cotton, with a rose and rosebud 
crocheted out of scarlet wool for the center. 
This is very pretty. 
I also have, some chair cushions which are 
very much admired. One is a piece of 
black cloth, cut the size of the chair bottom, 
and ornamented with a wreath of green 
leaves and red berries, cut from little pieces 
of flannel ami sewed neatly upon the doth ; 
another lias a lioiiqjiel of autumn leaves, of 
different colors, put on in the same way; 
another is a square of scarlet flannel, with ft 
braiding pattern of black in lilt; center, and 
four three-cornered pieces of black, sewed 
around, to make it the size of the chair; 
also an edge worked on with black, where 
the black and scarlet join. 1 cord or bind 
them around Hit* outer edge. Another way 
is to have a square of coarse cotton fastened 
in a flame suitable for the purpose, and 
draw upon it with a pencil any flowers you 
choose; then trace your pattern around 
with a thread, ns the pencil marks rub 
off so easily. When you have done this, 
cut any little scraps of worsted you may 
have into narrow strips, and with a little 
peg, made for the purpose, draw them 
through the canvas from the under side; 
the flowers should be made of those colors 
most resembling the natural flowers, the 
leaves different shades of green, and when 
you have done trim nil your cushion over 
they pay more attention to gay, »my 
than iin.*y do to modest, sensible ones; this 
alone is enough to drive many girls into ex¬ 
travagance and folly that would otherwise 
have been ornaments to society ; for it is nat¬ 
ural that they should wish to win admira¬ 
tion, u..t of course they will imitate those 
who are most sought. 
Strange that they received none from each the cook stove or ironing table, or in the hay 
other. They grew up outwardly a cold and field, they will And a difference. The 
passionate family, hardly ever giving ex- former is the ideal “rural life;" the latter, 
presaton to any other feelings Ilian those of L | iy m ,L 
anger, and when t hey were aroused woe be 
to the rest, of the family; for nothing was 
too bad for them to say, nothing too sacred 
But 1 intended to speak of our manner of for them to expose 
dressing. They (the men) do not seem to* 
know that often when we look the most 
richly dressed, part of onr toilette is com¬ 
posed of a dress we have worn season after 
season, md perhaps partly of an old black 
silk that mother threw aside years ago; they 
do not know how we piece and Hun and 
economize, blit their sisters can tell it they 
will but ask them. Amt then they charge 
us with idleness; hut Ido not think they 
would do this if they could see how bard 
we work through the day, that we may have 
the more time to devote to them when they 
drop in of evenings. 1 hope some of them 
will repent and help defend the girls through 
the columns of the Rural New-Yorker, 
for I feel entirely unqualified for the task, 
being but a Miss iu my teens. And I know 
the girls will agree with me; so I hope we 
will hear from them, too.— Minnie Tyson. 
The Trouble# of Women. 
I wish to express to you my appreciation 
of your excellent paper, the Rural New- 
Yorker. I look for it as eagerly as a maiden 
for her lover, and read it with a great deal 
clearer knowledge than some maidens do 
their lovers, 1 am sure. 
How i love to read the Ladies’ Port-Folio, 
and especially when there is anything con¬ 
cerning the daily life of women. 1 laugh to 
think how much trouble some people have, 
and when you come to analyze it, it is more 
than half imaginary. If men will not be 
neat and orderly*, what, is the use of fretting 
and souring your disposition, putting 
wrinkles on your face and growing old pre¬ 
maturely to no purpose at all. If fretting 
would help any of the ills of life, why, I 
would say fret to your heart’s content; hut, 
my dear sisters, you are only adding to life’s 
Still these same parents were toiling every 
day for tlieir children’s support; depriving 
themselves of many necessary things, that 
Mary might, have the new school book she 
needed, and John the new coal, and the 
many things that are constantly being re- 
TI tore are many pleasures in-a farmer’s 
life, but plenty of hard work aud disagree¬ 
able work, to destroy all idea of poetry, and 
bring one down to very common prose. Is 
there poetry in butchering, sausage making, 
lard trying? Is there poetry in hauling 
manure? Is there, O, is there, poetry iu 
picking potato bugs? 
If one has a nice farm, plenty of “ help,” 
and is not dependent tor his daily bread 
quired to meet the demands of a growing upon the work of his own hands, but Inis 
family,— the mother taking the whole bur- H m e to look about liim aud enjoy Nature 
den of her domestic duties on her own 
shoulders, that her girls might have tlieir 
whole time for school and study ; and I dare 
say they would not have hesitated one mo¬ 
ment to sacrifice their own lives for that of 
their children. 
As they were poor, the children left home 
as soon as they were able to maintain them¬ 
selves. As they became the inmates of oth¬ 
er families and began to realize something of 
what a home might become, they all resolved 
that if they became the heads of families 
their homes should be very different from the 
one in which they were reared; but tit is was 
easier said than done, or at least oueof them 
found it so. Although she knew what was 
right, still it was almost impossible for her 
in overcome the habits she hud formed in 
early life. She became a wife and mother 
and oli 1 how hard it was for her to do her 
duty! She had been very much tried when 
site hail only her husband to deal with. She 
found it so hard to keep from angry words 
—words which were bitterly repented of an 
hour after they were uttered; and still the 
same fault would be committed over and 
over again. 
When little ones came to their home, each 
one was an additional tax upon her patience 
and brought with it less physical strength 
with which to resist temptation. 
She would sometimes become so discour¬ 
aged that neither prayer, nor anything else, 
prosperity of the individual will follow as the 
natural consequence. I see too many per' 
sons who grow up to manhood with no trade 
or regular business, except such as they may 
happen t<> light upon, depending upon some 
kind of speculation in what more industrious 
persons produce, instead of applying them¬ 
selves to produce food, or such articles of 
necessity aa mankind are constantly demand¬ 
ing. Buell persons are the ones loudest in 
theircomplaiuts of “ hard times and the dif¬ 
ficulty of getting along.” A word to the 
wise Is sufficient. w. H. 
- ♦-*-* - 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
From ii Yoiiug Teach or. 
1 have been much interested in the letters 
of the girls in the Rural New-Yorker, and 
will try and add my mite. I am teaching a 
district school near our home and like it very 
much indeed, though I have only taught four 
weeks. I have twenty-two scholars, their 
ages ranging from four to fourteen. Some 
have never been to school before, and arc 
time to look about lilrn aud unjoy Nature .., y .. M T „„ h ,r. 
aud liar beaut,«a, he may Hud poetry m a , llWffl MWl> i„,« rraU! d iu the letters 
farmers life. But the man, aud he. wife oftlreglrl atatl.eUt;H*l,NKW.YoltKK»,aud 
too, who IS obliged to toil to the extent of w||| „ dd mH ,, , lcnchi „ „ 
h,s strength every day can, in my opinion, {„„aro,ir home and likelt very 
entoy nearly all the pleasures ot rural lilo, . . . , .it i 
J - y ‘ J , , .much indeed, though I have only taught tour 
make lust its much money, and not work ’ ° . . . , ” • 
. J « weeks. I have twenty-two scholars, their 
nearly ns hard, m a city. I do not speak ot ... c 
, y , , ’ ‘ ages ranging trom tour to fourteen. Some 
t ie metropo lian cities, but. ot our country 0 ? . , , , , 
-a , , ,, .*,, have never been to school before, and arc 
towns, of fiyc, eight, or ten thousand iiiliab- ... . .. . T> n . ... ’ ,, . . 
’ , , ..it pist learning their A B C», while the highest. 
Hunts. And in such a place would 1 choose *’ . b ’ xr ° 
, . .. , . ,• c ass are iti the fourth reader. Vve have a 
.burdens instead of lessening their numbers seemed to be of any use to her; at such 
or weight. times as these her only cry was “ Why was Words, scarcely remembered after spoken, 
My burdens have not been few or light, I born? Why was I horn?” She would sink into the wife’s heart and rankle like an 
but they could not keep my head under wa- feel that she was not only very unhappy, arrow. To feel herself lowered in Hie eyes 
ter long. I tell you I am a good deal like perhaps, but that she made everybody mis- of a servant or her own children, by one 
the duck; I will come up, and the water runs erable with whom she was associated. Then from whom she expects only kindness, is 
to set up my home, where the advantages of 
both city and country are combined, with 
few of the disadvantages or ills of either.— 
Kate. 
lim-Mli Words. 
If men knew the force with which thought¬ 
less censure toward a wife is picked up by 
the help, many a true heart would scorn 
itself, and many a manly cheek blush for 
shame. Mismanagement, wrangled over in 
ihe presence of a girl, in nine cases out of 
ten makes her feel superior to her mistress. 
An instance occurred a few days ago; -A 
wife was accused of mismanagement. The 
girl saw her opportunity ; for several days 
she hinted extravagance and carelessness to 
the lady, but was exceedingly polite and 
clever to the gentleman. Fortunately for 
the wife, the girl’s airs became offensive to 
the husband, aud lie freely admitted the 
wife’s claims to a change of servants, and 
it was only by assuming her proper place 
that she retained tier situation. 
Words, scarcely remembered after spoken, 
Bink into the wife’s heart and rankle like an 
off and leaves me just as smooth as before, again 9 he would cheer up with the thought more humiliating than all the calumny a 
(in outward seeming at least); so, from expe- that her Judge was one who judged of the jealous neighborhood can heap upon her. 
rience, I advise you not to let such trifles heart, and He knew how earnestly she tried The wife who can reverence her husband; 
worry you; if they do, do not show the to do rightly, and she would resolve to trust 
worry iu your looks or actions, but sing or less in her own strength and more in Him 
whistle (I believe in whistling, Mr. Editor, who is all powerful. She would again re- 
«the old saying, of whistling girls, Ac., to the sume her burden of life with fear and trem 
contrary), and it will soon cease to annoy filing. Trying to teach her children, both to need correcting like tlie children, 
you. It you cannot keep the common living by precept, and example, to love each other, language he would not address to a 
room like a parlor, free from speck or dust, to overlook each other’s faults, to be tender gcr," is happy.— Farmer’s Wife. 
who can lay her hand upon his arm ami 
proudly say, “ My husband is not the one 
who once a month, or more frequently, 
makes his wife to feel so far his inferior as 
to need correcting like the children, and in 
language he would not address to a strau- 
very pleasant time, though we are not as 
strict as a town school, especially with the 
little ones. One little brown-eyed, curly- 
haired five-year-old is the very spirit of mis¬ 
chief and obstinacy, but Just us pretty as he 
can he. He always has his own way at 
home and thinks he will at school. The 
other day ho got on the floor and crawled 
under his seat and would not get up for 
coaxing or threatening, and l let him alone, 
thinking lie would soon tire of it, but not he! 
He enjoyed it to the utmost. He crawled 
through the whole row of seats, tickling the 
little girls’ feet. At last 1 spoke again to 
him ; he sat up under a seat, willi liis arms 
folded and looked up at me, saying “ l’s 
taking my ease, I is. I won’t get up.” Who 
could do anything with him after that? 
When I wanted him to go out doors, I sent, 
the rest of Ids class out, and said he must 
stay in, whereupon up he jumped and ran 
out, turning around at the door and Saying, 
“ I dot tip, and ruuned out, 1 did 1” 
Another little boy says the “ twinkles ” 
shine at night and that, there are just a hun¬ 
dred of them. I asked little Sarah why vve 
could not walk on the water? She said 
“cause." Generally when 1 ask her why 
anything is so, she says “’Cause I saw it.” 
Our school-house is a very pretty one—a 
light stone color with darker trimmings and 
red sashes. It is a quarter ot a mile from 
any house both ways. We always have 
fresh flowers on the desks, as the school-house 
is on the bank of a creek, where there are a 
great many ; also vvintcrgreeu berries, which 
are very nice just now. 
1 wish some of the girls would give a 
A GtiT# I’«#i Office. 
1 have been reading the little girl’s letters, 
telling of’ their plays at school; and I 
thought 1 would tell them how to pass va¬ 
cation pleasantly. We have a box can- 
cealed in the wall, nicely protected from the 
rain, about the center ot the district, where 
we exchange letters, and call it our Post 
Office.— Jennie. 
- * —■♦♦♦- 
BE A MAN. 
Foolish spending is the father of pover¬ 
ty. Do not he ashamed of hard work. Work 
for the best salaries or wages you can get, 
but work for half price rather than be idle. 
Be your own master, and do not let society 
or fashion swallow up your individuality— 
hat, coat and boots. Do not eat up or wear 
out all that you earn. Compel your selfish 
hotly to spare something for profits saved. 
Be stingy to your own appetite, but merci¬ 
ful to others’ necessities. Help others, and 
ask no help for yourself. Bee that you are 
proud. Let your pride he of tin* right kind. 
Be too proud to be lazy ; too proud to give 
up without conquering every difficulty; too 
proud to wear a coat you cannot afford to 
buy; too proud lobe in company that you 
cannot keep up with in expenses; too proud 
to lie, or steal, or cheat; too proud to be 
stingy. 
RURAL FOUR-YEAR-OLDS. 
“Take « Joke.”—W illie, a llttlo two-year- 
old, was drawing a chair on a carpeted floor. 
His grandmother told him tie must not do so. 
Willie persisted. Grandmother arose to en¬ 
force obedience. The little culprit took refuge 
behind hfs aunt’s clmir. and. looking up archly 
into Ids grandmother’s l ace, said “ Take a Joke t" 
—m. w. 
itecawHx.—My boy, who is four years old, went 
to see some “ladies” about hts own age. At 
dinner, they served very yellow, nice, rich 
cheese. Ho (being fond of chewing beeswax) 
passed ills plate and politely asked t he “ ladies ” 
for ‘■'some of that beeswax ."~®. s. w. 
Tlie Moon's Hoby. Ref ore Willie was four 
years old, his father took him In his arms and 
held him up to look at tlie moon, which was 
about half the full size. The night was very 
clear, and the moon shone brightly ; and very 
near it , apparently, it bright star Could be readily 
seen. After Willie had looked at the moon a 
few seconds, lie exclaimed, " Pa, see I 1 he muon 
has oat a tittle baby /” 
The “ Naughty Mini's" Deed*,—'Two-year-Old 
Addik had been told Unit a “naughty man” 
cut tlie old mare's tail off. Fanny whs telling 
per one night how Moses was put In the river 
in a basket, because a “ naughty man wanted to 
kill all the bablea.” “Yes,” said Aduik; “and 
bo cut our old mare's tail off, too, Fannie 1” 
What to Da with n Fro*# Bshy.—Said two- 
year-old Ella “ Wish I had a little cross baby, 
like Auntie’s." “ Why, what would you do with 
himy" “I’d kueol rightdowu aud p'ay for him, 
1 would.” 
