MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER 
UNDER THE LINDEN TREES. 
BY SARAH DYER HOBABT. 
Under the linden trees, GENIE. 
When the taoon bung low In the West, 
And the rose trees their chalice of fragrance 
To seed low on the earth's dewy breast. 
While tho whip-poor-will sang In the woodland, 
And tho wind came fresh o'er the leas, 
We sat with heart* tilled with gladness. 
Under the t>right linden trees. 
Under the linden trees, Genie, 
To-night I stand all alone. 
Chill comes tho wind from the Westward, 
And the. whip-poor-will’s song Is a moan. 
Beyond the river, my darling. 
Through nights os lonely as these, 
For me you’re waiting and watching, 
’Neath the Heavenly linden trees! 
©ur £tori|.-®$tyr. 
TEN YEAE’S EXPERIENCE. 
BY JULIA DAY. 
In tho State of New York, within sight of the in 
Rutland Hills, on a small hot well cultivated | so 
farm, stands a very humble hut neat-looking 
farm house. The fronl Is nearly covered by a i» 
climbing rose, nod beneath a few small trees M 
there arc tall lilies growing in tho grassy yard. 
In this house, one pleasant Summer morning, is 
ten years ago, two young ladles sat by the. open m 
window, busily conversing. From that window si 
were seen, not the road, the gate and the lilies. r< 
hut the well sweep, t he bee-hives, t he meadows 01 
where t he? heavy grass was every moment falling 
before the sharp scythe* of the mowers, and ft 
woods and hills in the distance. | n 
It was not the scenery or the hay-making 
that occupied the thoughts of the two friends, n 
Lottie Stevens was the oldest, ehild of the tl 
farmer whose home we have been describing. 
She had always been a thoughtful, studious girl, ii 
and having.Just completed the course of study 
in the nearest seminary, was expecting soon to h 
leave homo again for one of the Western States, « 
where a friend had procured bora situation as e 
teacher, Louise Clark, her visitor, was a beau- n 
Ilful and lively girl about her own age. Her <• 
home was half a mile dist ant; her fat her, Squire | , 
Clark a* ho wax’ called, owning a large farm ), 
upon which he had erected much the finest j (, 
bouse In the neighborhood. Louise had also j 
graduated from school ; though not so well l 
versed in some things which require hard study, j * 
she had made considerable proficiency In what , 
are considered ornamental branches, and bad a ] 
better knowledge of history and more general , 
information than many girls fresh front school, i 
Lottie and Lou be had been intimate from 
early childhood; and as they were to be »epa- j , 
rated for some time, they were unfolding to i 
each other their hopes and plan* fur the future, i j 
Lottie intended, of course, to bo successful us ’ 
a teacher: she hoped to assist somewhat In the i 
education-of her younger brothers and sisters; i 
but that was by no means the whole scope of ; , 
her ambition—she was determined to do a great I , 
work somewhere; what,she. hardly knew. Cali¬ 
fornia, she hod heard, was the Paradise of 
teachers; perhaps she might, in a couple of 
years, cot out to make her fortune there, open 
an academy of her own, purchase a home near 
one of its growing cities, and possess a library 
which should be the delight of her heart and 
the admiration or her friends, while her school 
should bo ft wonder and blessing to the commu¬ 
nity; or she might teach there a half-dozen , 
years, and then ret urn to spend a period of lei¬ 
sure and study in one of our Eastern cities. She | 
had some dreams of authorship, and thought 
she might, by-and-by, influence more minds 
through the press than by her efforts in the 
school room. “ Or, I may do something bet t er,*' 
she said; and with this last sentence, there 
passed before her mental vision the picture of a 
group on board a small steamship Just leaving 
port; on shore, a crowd of friends with tearful j 
eyes, waving their handkerchief*, »nd taking a 
last look at those who are going to be foreign | 
missionaries. Bhe hesitated to speak of this, 
not feeling sure that her piety was strong enough 
for such a resolution, or that such a fancy might 
not seem absurd to her friend. 
LOUISE would never have guessed such a pros¬ 
pect from the words “ something better ;*’ so, 
without inquiring further, she commenced ex- 
pressing her own day dreams. 
u Father does not wish ine to t each, and I am 
glad of it: but 1 am tired of Just staying at 
. . . • .11_1. I Art 
sufferers; next came a few months of rest at 
home, then she returned South to teach a large 
school among the freed people of Tennessee, j 
After nearly two years’work in this field, she 
came North to at tend her sist er s wedding, and 1 
finding her mother's health poor, and her own 
presence desirable eon eluded to remain at home. 
IiOUIsk was married a couple of years after 
the commencement of our story. She had re¬ 
sided a short time in Philadelphia, and was mak¬ 
ing her long desired tour of Europe when papers 
from America brought, word that the Great Re¬ 
bellion was not likely “to be crushed" so soon 
as loyal men had prophesied, hut that recent 
events were discouraging t o the friends of the . 
old flag. Her husband decided to return imme- J 
dlately, wishing to enter his country's service, 
which he did, and was thenceforth known as 
(.'apt. Spencer. He served a year in the army, 
was compelled t o resign on account of sickness, 
and died in a few months. 
LOUISE then returned t o her mother's house, 
(her father had been dead several years,) and 
here, in the home of her childhood, she devoted j 
her time mostly to the care of her little son, I 
without whose childish mirth the old house ! 
would have been indeed lonely. 
Mrs. SPENCER has come to spend the after¬ 
noon with her friend, and they ore comfortably 
seated in the little parlor, enjoying a nice long 
chat, like those of olden t ime, except that this 
1* occasionally Interrupted by some remark to 
Master Harry Upencek, who Is scattering his 
bouquet, leaf by leaf, upon the carpet. Louise 
is scarcely changed, except that her counte¬ 
nance has a more thoughtful and earnest expres¬ 
sion. Lottie’s cheeks are not. so Tull nor so 
rosy; yet she is quite herself, and would beat 
once recognized by any of her old school mates. 
“‘Unto the place .. v'leneo. the rivers 
came thither toe, i-iUin again, and we have 
returned like tho waters,’’ said Louise, 
“ And now," spoke Lottie, quite teacher- 
like, “ what Is the host lesson you have learned, 
through all these years?’’ 
“ To appreciate my Imme, and he content with 
doing WtU■ things when l know they are duties.’’ 
“1 thought you always did appreciate your 
home and your work." resumed Louise. " I 
was the discontented one, always anxious to 
enter upon some new scheme, looking only to 
my own enjoyment. Those sorrowful yet pre¬ 
cious days of watching in the Rick room have 
helped me somewhat in forgetting sell; the 
lonely hours of bereavement have turned my 
thoughts upon the past rather t han the future; 
' and now," she cont inued in a lighter tone, look- 
tmr noon her buy, “ the little mischief keeps me 
so the Judge wrote a note to the constable about 
as follows: 
*• Mr. O —: Please to give the bearer thirty- 
nine lashes and charge the same to me. r 
Judge H. 
Calling on Uncle Jake, the Judge ordered him 
to carry the note to (5-, who would give him l 
a grubbing hoe. 
Jake started off up town, but his suspicion? 
were aroused. He couldn't understand what 
the Judge wanted with a grubbing boe at 
Christ mas time, and his conscience was not as 
door as it might have been. Tho result of his j 
suspicion was that the truth suddenly flashed 
upon him—he was to be whipped. Seeing a 
school-boy approaching, he took the note and 
said: 
“ Massa Bob what am In dis note? Got so 
many dl* morning, I got 'em mixed." 
The boy read the note and explained Its con- | 
tents to Jake, who whistled and laughed to him¬ 
self, ns a bright Idea struck him. Calling a ne¬ 
gro buy, who was near, Jake said : 
“ Boy does you want to make a quarterU' 
“ Of course I does.” 
“ Well, take dis note down dax to Massa O- 
an' git a grubben hoe, and l wait here till you 
come back, and den l give you a quarter." 
The boy hurried off to accomplish his errand, j 
and In due time delivered the note to G-, 
who took him Into the yard, locked the gate, 
and proceeded, despite the hoys protestations 
of Innocence, to administer the desired flog- 
I glng, while Jake hurried off home, chuckling 
over the happy result of what might have been 
serious 1 nisincss for him. 
That evening t he Judge called him up, and in¬ 
quired : 
“ Jake, did you get that grubbing boe ?’’ 
“No, massa ; I give a hoy a quarter to fotch 
d-d note to ">5-5 •• U-, and l spec’ he got dat 
h( * _ 
JOE HAINE8’ READ Y RESOURCES. 
Joe Haines, a unec famous acter in England, 
was a man frequentlv Involved In trouble, but j 
of ready resources in cases of emergency In 
making a tour of Franco he narrowly escaped 
being seized and sent to the Hostile for persona¬ 
ting an English peer, and running 3,000 livres in 
debt; but, happily landing at Hover, he went to 
London. However, this affair spoiled Joe'S ex¬ 
piring credit; for, next morning, n couple of 
bailiffs seized him lb on action of £ 20 asthobish» 
op of Elv was passing by In his coach. Quoth 
JOB to the bailiffs, “Gentlemen, here is my 
cousin, the Bishop of Ely. going into his house, 
let me but speak to hint, and he’ll pay the debt 
i and charges." The bailiffs thought they might 
venture that, a? they were wit hin throe or four 
Sabbath 
lng upon her boy, “ the little mlscmct Keeps me om l charges. t no oaimm 
so busy, that 1 hardlv know whether I am happy venture that, os they were within three or four 
or not '. Perhaps 1 am like BayaUD TaylOh’B yards of him. So up goo? Joe to the coach, pull- 
hcro, when he had attained unto wisdom. ‘ not 1Sl ,g 0 ff bis lint, and got close to it J be Blsbop 
clamoring for over-human tills?, end now no ordered the coach to slop, while Joe close to 
more unhappy." bis ear. said softly, “ My hud, hcreare two men 
••In enrlv life, I think,” replied Lottie, "we who have sue).groat ^ ^ru,d« of eonsclcncUI.at 
“ ££! LffSJBKT-.! -«.»<- ^ *» 
“‘The angel sought iso far away WTTW A gTiTMAUH 
I welcome ut my door/ ** A. MAN WITH A 
“I see,” answered Mrs. RpencBB, with » „aper tells the following story > 
| twinkle in her eye ; “ andI auppoxe your home Afc I* ^ t P here dwelt in our slater city c 
attracts you more powerfully Just now, since worthy but rather irritable gentle mar 
the thrifty farmer who calls so frequently migh Al t • famous hotel then 
be seriously afflicted should you return to your who trw the j £_ . |jn Numcrot 
former view s and leave Mm to , it™", dully drew II,dr ration, from 1,1, HIM 
tor, niWreee In the new holme wh'cli *•«”“»*• ^“.tood table, and not« tew vWton fro, 
to build. Is it not so ( ... H,,, rural districts preferred the substantial fm 
Lottie laughed and blushed, but sata. of the Franklin House to the more preteritioi 
have told my lesson honestly ; you may suppose G f the Alton House, fine day, in additic 
or Infer whatever you please," ... oil the good things with which the dinne 
nlssionarlcs. «ne nesuaieu «> « >«»"■ FTOGGING BY PROXY 
yot feeling sure that her piety was strong enough A FLOGGI NG BY TitUAX. 
■or .nr., . ro-otnlfomJ Um. .noh . tone, eeltfit ^ ^^^ la , mtlo 
lot seem absurd , ■ I oountry town In North Alabama, a genial, warm- 
LOUisw would never have guessed such a pros- heartod old gent ]emau, Judge H-, well- 
fed from the words ‘ something bette , so, j {nown throughout t.he State, us well for his dis- 
ivit hout inquiring further, she commenced ex- tln „ u | Bllftd a bjnty „s for Ills generosity and con- 
pressing her own day dreams. genial tv. Among his chattel possessions, wa;- a 
“ Father does not wish me t o teach, and I am ^ named .lake, or, os he was more familiarly 
glad of it; hut I am tired of Just staying at ( , !l)led unde Jake, and there.never lived a more 
home In this dull neighborhood! As ( oumii j Gngold darkev: for I'nele Jake although 
At n r, leeomUwV,«. »»,. I hope to OnWI, „1> XSS w S wo.kno.rr,, and 
the Bummer very mil; » ho purtloularlj- raonllese of truth. 
the Summer very well; will go to town fre- j 
queutly and explore tho country, and have gay j "”' j extent In fact, that occasionally the 
times if possible. Next Winter I shall spend ‘ Judg# fonnd St necessary to punish 
with my aunt In Boston. \ ou may expect let- . ,, W(1S the custrt m In those days for the 
ters flllodwlth descriptions-of my new acquaint- q constable to administer a flogging for a 
ance. I’ll *c»d you writlen accounts of _ consideration, whenever the masU'r wasdisin- 
parties I attend, and printed roport^of the let- , #ljiied fo „ mciat0i „ u ,i the constable of this 
turns I bear. I hope to see i m is, . witzorlan particular town had a severe reputation for pro- 
and sunny Italy before you achieve distinction flcleuoy amoiy j the darkies who had been so un- 
as a teacher.”__ fortunate as to come under his hands. 
Ten years have passed, and our two friends Jake, although he had never been there, was 
have met again in tho Old homestead where we well post ed, and hod a great repugnance 
S tE Lottie has been busy; touch- Massa --who was the incumbent nt that 
, .,,l} e n i the West; then, going South to at- time. On one occasion, during the Christina 
tend upon her oldest brother, who was for some days, when the old Judge waa quite severely t - 
time Sick in a Southern hospital, she remained disposed. Uncle Jake had been guilty of mi* - 
al ter his recovery doing what she could for ot her | meaner, and punishment was deemed ne< t a-»ai y. 
\ t-T Is tun? paper tells the following story: t 
Once on a time there dwelt in our sister city of , < 
Alton a worthy but rather irritable gentleman, . 
who was the host, of a famous hotel there, I 
known as the Franklin House. Numerous i 
citizen* daily drew their rations from his liber¬ 
ally furnished table, and not a few visit ors from 
l he rural districts preferred the substantial fare 
of the Franklin House to the more pretentious 
board of the Alton House. One day, in addition 
10 all the good thing? with which the dinner- 
table was tomied, there was at the lower end a 
nice roast, pig, that would have tickled the 
palate of the gentle " Ella," who discourses so 
eloquently of that savory viand. At the con- I 
elusion or the meal this roust pig remained in- 
I act, when along came a belated drover, who 
sat down beside It. and. having a good, whole¬ 
some appetite, soon devoured tho whole of it.. 
The lnodlord looked on amazed, and was puz¬ 
zled to see where hi? pre^l was to come in after 
deducting a dollar and u-half pig from a fifty- 
I cent dinner ticket. Giving vent to his disgust, 
he said very sarcastically to the drover. “Isn’t 
t here something die you would like to be helped 
to?” “ Wa! yus," drawled out the drover, “ 1 
don’t care if I t ake another of them little hogs." 
This was too much for the equanimity of the 
landlord, and to keep himself from “spontan¬ 
eously combusting," like Dorothea,he was com- 
pelled to rush out in the open air, where he 
could give vent to a few unorthodox expressions 
without being overheard by the elect, of which 
he was one. 
-♦*-*>-• 
Jones wagered Brown that be had seen a 
horse galloping at n great speed and a deg sit¬ 
ting on his tail. It. seems an impossible feat for 
a dog to accomplish, but Jones was right, and 
won t ho money. The dog was sitting on fits own 
tail. 
FAITH. 
BY B. P. AUTiEE. 
Reigns the Lord, the Great Jehovah! 
The Prince of Peace. Prince of Love I 
Ho relgneth on tho lovely plain 
Where’? naught but case—naught but gain,— 
Naught but gain 
Where Peace abides the soul shall rest. 
And wear the phone—tho holy crest 
Of conquered evil here on earth; 
’Twere lost without—without ’twore dearth.— 
'Twere dearth. 
O'ercomtng sin enn only' move 
The God, onr hope, the King of Love. 
To guide our spirits hence away 
Frem esrGi unto the perfect day.- 
The perfect d?v. 
When He tho wist moves from afar. 
’Twill the gates leave wide alnr. 
And shew us rays Of burning light. - 
Ftreets of gold, and purest white,— 
Purest white 
A vision that ’twere worth a ltf“ 
. Of hope, of loll and holy strife. 
To pierce the vast ethereal blue, 
And thu? tokoow-that all Is true.— 
All Is true. 
Already Faith bestows tho boon. j 
A hope of the eternal noon, 
Where ’noath the shade of palm and yew. 
We'll rest In peace, FOREVER too,— 
Forever too' 
-- ♦♦♦- 
IF WE WOULD, 
BY MRS M. A HOLT 
“ If we would but cheek tho speaker 
Whi r he spoils a neighbor's fame; 
If we would but help the erring 
Ere we utter words of blame— 
tf we would, how many might we 
Turn from path* of pin andt shame." 
There is » grand meaning bidden away In 
these words "If wo would;" but wo do not 
generally euro to understand it. It wo would, 
we might accomplish a grand work in tho 
world; but It would cost us something, and so 
wo turn away from the duties and responsibili¬ 
ties that meet ua. 
AH do not reason alike upon this grand state 
of existence that we call life. Some think there 
is nothing to do but to muse and dream, w hile 
others regard the world as n vast pleasure 
ground. Each reasons to suit his own tastes 
and desires; but If he would, he might under- 
gland life rightly. Human beluga have tho 
power t o embrace, or resist tho teachings of the 
spirit of trulh, and to follow or leave the quiet 
path of duty. True happiness and false huppl- 
no?? are within (he reach of all, and we choose 
ns we will. Tho world would bo a better world 
if Its inhabitants would choose rightly, but they 
do not, and so the machinery of the universe 
goes wrong- 
“ Ah! the wrongs that might bo righted 
II wo would hut nee the way! f 
Ah the pains that miuUt bo lightened 
Every hour and every day 
ff wo would but he ir tho pleadings 
Of dm heart? ‘hat go astray ! 
There are broad Held? “white and ready for 
the harvest" where we might gather many a 
1 golden sheaf if wo would. There are gleaming 
J crown? that wc might gain, and gem? of unfad¬ 
ing splendor within our reach. But it costs an 
effort, to grasp them, and 60 we drift along- 
There Isa life of purity and love—unmeasured 
hv the march of years; yet we must face the 
storms and billows to gain It: so we drop the 
oar and glide softly along upon tho surging tide 
„l wordliuess We can grasp tlio bright forever 
if we would ; but we will not. as it is easier to 
soil on the smooth waters of Indolence. ' v ® 
might him) up broken hearts, and lift the fallen 
child up to a better life- Wo might stay tho 
rushing tide of sin, 1/ U>e would. 
“ All, how blessed !—ah, how blessed 
Earth would bo If we’d but try 
Thus to nld and t ight tho weaker— 
Thus to check ouch brother’s sigh— 
Thus to walk in duty's pathway 
Tv ,..»(/ bf/ler If fr on Mflk." 
“ In each life, however lowly. 
There are seeds of mighty good; 
still we shrink from souls appealing 
With U timid, ‘If we could; ’ 
But God, who knowetb all things. 
Knows the truth is, 1 Tf wo would.’ ” 
--- 
THOUGHTFUL PARAGRAPHS. 
Oun life is a sermon. Our birth is the text 
from which we start. Vouth Is tho introduction 
to t lie discourse. During our manhood w e lay 
down a fnw propositions and prove them. Some 
uf the passages arc dull, other? sprightly. Then 
come Inference? and applications. At, seventy 
years wo -ny : “ Fifthly and lastly." Tho doxol 
ogy i» suing. The hook Is closed. It is getting 
cold. Frost on the window pane. Audience 
gone. Shut up tho Church. Sexton goes home 
with the key on his shoulder. 
Truth Is always consistent with itself, and 
needs nothing to help It out; it is always near 
at hand, and sits upon our HpB, and is ready to 
drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is 
troublesome, and sets a man's invention upon 
the rack; and one trick needs a great many 
more to make It good. -Tillotson. 
