SEPT, 6 
MOOBE’S BUBAL fJEW-VOBBEB. 
A LITTLE GRAVE. 
BY EHEN E. HF.XFOKD. 
Softly, tread softly! A baby’s asleep, 
Under the daisies and gras.i; 
Over Its bosom the violets creep; 
Alt. but Its slumber I* tender and deep, 
tYrapped In tin* cradle that rocketh nlwuy, 
Watched by the Kather who loreth his own,— 
Ah, little baby, sleep sweetly to-day 1 
Rest that, is swoeter no baby 1ms known. 
Home mother misses this babe from her breast, 
Hid by tho daisies and Brass. 
Often at twilight, she hushed it to rest, 
Singing the ming* that a baby loves best; 
AllI but thu arms of the mother of all 
Holdeth the little one close to her breast. 
Kind Mother Earth, when the nigbt-shiidows fall. 
Gather us all to your bosom to rest! 
-m-*- 
ONE OF THE MARTYRS. 
BY R. E. S. 
Silence has ceased to bo a virtue. “ Tn life’s 
morning march, when tny spirit was young," it 
\va.-; Impressed upon me t hat T must never repeat 
the “burning language'* In which Adolphus 
deolarod his undying affection, that it. was dis¬ 
honorable to boast of the Humorous offers one 
had ami that concealment (on all such lender 
subjects), like a worm i’ the bud, should prey on 
my damask cheek. 1 have followed for a num¬ 
ber of years [Nullum fui ncQotie , how many, 
madam?) these noble precepts, but now flosh 
can stand It no longer. 
Pert, silly, ill-bred girls, who weren’t born 
when Fred stole my red ribbon at our first 
party, turn up their noses when I give an opin¬ 
ion of dress, and whisper something about, “old 
maids being no authority on style." I ought to 
pity their Ignorance; as if I couldn't have 
been one of the army of slaves that their poor 
mothers belonged to. Of course, they know 
nothing about certain sentimental notes in my 
desk; of acorns picked up in Flirtation Walk at 
West Point; of brass buttons stamped with 
Uncle Sam’s eoat-of-arms; of little faded (low¬ 
ers; of the card ihut mime with the dainty bou¬ 
quet of heliotrope; of mementos of Plank 
Mountain, gathered in eighteen hundred , 
and nothing, nearly, of tho cigar that wastes its 
sweetness, and of the— But why continue 
the harrowing list V They may nil be found In 
any well-brought-up young maiden’s treasures. 
Now, if I had been the heroine of a novel, all 
this would bo known, and the world could tell 
bow many shoes, gloves, bits of lace and huir- 
plns were being kissed and wept, over by my re¬ 
jected lovers. At present they dwell in obliv¬ 
ion. And. then, too, I would have been either 
happily married forever nr a charming maiden 
lady, the ndored star of a brill hint, circle, with 
an income of sweet millions a year. All my 
friends would know just what Phil said the 
morning we came back from our long tramp ; 
when ho Cut the flower tops with Ills stick and 
1 rushed up stairs and threw myself In convul¬ 
sions of tears on my couch for the rest of tho clay. 
We talked, to be sure, at a gate in a Held, und 
our voices never sank to lovor-llke whispers, 
yet no one suspected that L refused him with 
scorn. If wo had only been in a book, Phil's 
rival, that darling with the long blonde mus¬ 
taches, would have boon stretched out in the 
grass near our feet, gna wing his heart out over 
my coldness; would have heard every word, 
and In the afternoon have taken me for a sail, 
rhapsodized over my dazzling beauty, clasped 
me in his arms and threatened direful things 
unless I murmured his llrst name close to hIs 
ear. No one believes that I ** might have been ’’ 
Mrs, OHOfOHUS (not oven that lady herself). 
To bo sure Ciuksuh was then clerk In my uncle’s 
store—an Insignificant youth, who asked me “if 
them eggs was fresh " that ho sent, audit my 
uni liked their soft soap. In Arcadia ho would 
have rescued xnc, at the peril of Ids lire, from 
a horrible death, written sonnets to my eye¬ 
brows while weighing tallow dips, talked like 
au inspired snob, and T would have adored him 
in spite of the persecutions of my cruel parents. 
I met (,’haklik yesterday, driving four-in-hand, 
looking nearly as nice as his footman, and 1 felt 
like shouting, " day, Mister, give mo a ride," as 
we did when we went to school, exchanged cake 
at lunch time and wrote each other miserably- 
spelled sentences, all having “love” for their 
predicate. 
Nobody dreams that Jack went to China be¬ 
cause he thought I was in love with his elder 
brother. He said that it was a splendid open¬ 
ing and that ho had been trying for years to get, 
It; but I knew better, and made no sign, i 
despised hia brother, who admired that Mias 
Smith ; but I couldn't throw my arms round 
Jack's neck (as they are said to do in these 
days) before he had invited me to. 
0 that there had been eavesdroppers In iny 
spring time! 0 that my lovers had been more 
ready to let, the world know tho star t hey wor¬ 
shipped 1 O that my rivals had written bitter 
notes reproaching me for stealing hearts! 0 
that some kind, old woman had thought me 
perfection and written the story of my loves 
and triumphs! Ah, me! they are all over, and 
I sit here, alone and beauxless, at forty odd 
years, gray in my hair, certain indelible linea 
traced under my eyes and round the corners 
of my once rosy mouth. “I was never 
so handsome us you, Sophy, yet I bad 
something of you formerly. 1 was called the 
cruel Pahtiienihsa. Kingdoms and States, as 
Tully Cicero says, undergo alterations, and so 
must the human form." 
You never know what tragedies and comedies 
are being act ed around you; what hearts are In 
ashes and what Uvea are blasted. And when 
you feel like sneering nt old maids, will you 
first win their confidence, coax them to show 
you the contents of some antique, scented 
boxes; then ask them why they refused all their 
brilliant offers, and-don’t you wish they may 
tell you? 
-*.-*-♦- 
OUR ABORIGINES. 
Isn’t a woman a woman the wdde world over ? 
Is there not by mil lire, a desire, an imtiiwL, con¬ 
trolled and held down by circumstances often, 
but existing there still, In every woman's heart 
—to In* well dressed? This artistic Instinct, 
possessed In a much greater degree by women 
than men, repressed by custom and Ignored by 
education, will yet betray Itself, as much In the 
cheap and gaudy imitations or one class as In 
the diamonds and laces of her more refined and 
wealthier sister. And she who stands upon the 
border of civilization, and makes herself ridic¬ 
ulous by imitating, wit h her rude materials, all 
she sees in occasional glimpses of its finery, is 
only acting out the same Impulse that stirs the 
heart of her sister to Whom is given a nobler 
heritage. 
So, 1 beg you, don’t despise poor Molly when 
I draw' her portrait for you. 
“ Put and forty," but not fair, sbo is quite the 
Mrs. Grundy of her tribe. This enviable posi¬ 
tion she lias obtained and still retains for va¬ 
rious reasons. 
She has a certain Imperious, bustling way 
with her, before which milder spirits bow In 
awe. She is a commanding spirit, but. a groat 
deal of fussing and " to-do," are the means em¬ 
ployed to keep herself such. Thou, too, she has 
been a white man’s squaw, and for three years 
lived In a white man’s house- And by virt ue of 
this great honor, she Is acknowledged leader 
among her dusky ulsters. But more than all 
things else, she is t he best dressed squatv on 
tho shores of bake Puckaway, and if that did 
not insure her the respect, admiration and 
envy of her sister, then the maidens of the wil¬ 
derness are not akin to tho maidens of the 
world. 
Of course, I cannot picture her In “ all her 
glory," but, reporter fashion, lot me describe 
her as she appeared on one occasion last sum¬ 
mer. A skirt which had once been black, but 
from the effects of paint, grease and stains, very 
much resembled Joseph’s coat, or an outline 
map of the Indies; a red “Dolly Varden" 
blouse, cut extremely low In tlie neck, and more 
suggestive of comfort to her stout, form than of 
bounty or neatness; red flannel pantalettes, 
very plainly and elegantly finished with a raw 
edge. Her httlr w as gathered Into a rope at tho 
back, and tightly wound with tape, covered with 
beads, and hung in simple elegance down her 
back. Her jewels were several brass rings on 
her fingers and several brass rings on her toes, 
a dozen t in earrings hung in the rim of each 
ear, and about two pounds of £ lass beads, form¬ 
ing a most gorgeous necklace. Rut the crown¬ 
ing glory of all was a parasol. It might have 
been a better one, yet it might have boon worse, 
for there were but two ribs broken and ;i part 
of the handle gone; but she nourished It, right 
proudly, it must have boon that parasol that 
did f lic mischief that day, for the next I knew 
or her, she was presiding in old CONOVER’S 
wigwam. Dora Whf.elock. 
44 » 
YOUR WORKMEN. 
What would you think of a farmer who 
brought homo a sick sheep, even if of the most 
valuable Stock, and turned It loose among lii.s 
flock ? Yet his folly and sin is light compared 
with that of a man who will knowingly employ 
an unprincipled man on his place, where his 
growing boys must associate more or less with 
him and listen to his evil conversation, it is a 
small matter to haven thousand sheep infected 
and destroyed by the contagious one brought 
among them. But. it is a fearful thing In have 
your hoy’s very soul corrupted, as it will tie, 
perhaps, by one hour of such association. Duo 
drop of iodine will discolor many thou-and 
times Its bulk of water. You would not drink 
from a cup Into which one drop of sower water 
had fallen ; you regard tho whole as polluted. 
So a ten minutes’ talk ol one whoso soul is 
seething and reeking with foulness may roach 
down In Its evil influence to your child'H gray 
hairs. Better let your «irops rot. in the Holds 
than to ruin your hid for this life and the next. 
It Is not a sufficient offset that he is tho best 
workman to tie had. Better pul up with in¬ 
ferior help, ho that you are satisfied with tho 
man’s morals. 
There is no time when a father or a mother 
can afford not to watch, and pray, too, over the 
welfare of t heir growing children. Watch their 
reading, for hero the enemy Is sowing a great 
crop of tares in one day. Form a taste for good 
reading, early. Lot your home abound in good 
books and only the best papers. Khun the sen¬ 
sational prints, so widely circulated, as you 
would a deadly snake. They have " rut down 
many thousands.” 
Don’t allow yotir mind to be so engrossed, 
mother, with the outside adorning of your 
daughters l hat you forget t he Inner life. If you 
are blind to it, the sower that, goes out to sow 
deadly seeds will not he. And if these seeds 
are sown they will spring up. You can easily 
check tbe sweet, flowers from growing in your 
borders, but you know how hard it is to keep 
the weeds down. Only vigilance can ensure 
success just so with the heart’s garden. Then 
watcli well, and work well, and pray well. 
j. E. m. c. 
LET ME GET A START. 
A little black-eyed girl once laid 
Her book upon my knee; 
And wtt.h a troubled face essayed 
To leurn her A It C. 
But all In vain—she did not call 
A letter right—not once; 
At length I harshly set. her down, 
And culled hnr " Utile dunce.” 
Sad tears soon filled her merry eyes; 
I’d pained her little heart; 
" Aunt Fanny, do just watt,” she cries, 
“ ’Till t can get a start." 
And soon Um dear girl “ got a start.” 
Each letter learned to toll. 
And e’er three months had passed away 
Could read a lesson well. 
Now, when you find some dullor mind 
Discouraged, slek at heart, 
I say bo patient—chide them not. 
But help them “ got a start.” 
Young Folks’ Journal. 
LETTERS TO YOUNG RURALISTS. No. 18. 
FROM COUSIN JOHNNIE. 
Cousin Johnnie takes up her pen in haste 
this week to try and make friends with her 
cousin, “ Young Mustache," whom she has un¬ 
wittingly offended by that unfortunal.e remark 
concerning “ a little score-crow of a mustache." 
I acknowledge, rny dear boy, that, the expres¬ 
sion was, to say the least, unadvised, and its 
your own hirsute appendage seems to be but 
just “budding," must have wounded your feel¬ 
ings in their most vulnerable part. I am very 
sorry. Let’s shake hands uml be friends again, 
shan’t we? And now, since we have made up, 
let. mo usk why, in your " defense " (?) you 
should have lugged In tho f/trls* false hair7" 
It was not. logical. Your side was tho defensive, 
for you remember what. 1 said was that I did not 
consider a little “scare-crow of a mustache" 
part ieul/irly manly; so you should have confined 
yourself to proving Mint one of that description 
is exceeding!v beautiful, useful and necessary, 
and “ manly " In the extreme. Instead, how¬ 
ever, you give an ugly side-blow at the poor 
creatures who cannot even boost a “little 
scare-crow." Now, Cousin mine, I don’t know 
what I could have possibly said to have given 
tho impression that a hirsute growth upon the 
upper lip Is so absolutely necessary to true 
manliness that Its place must be supplied by 
art when nature refuses to bring forth a suf¬ 
ficiently luxuriant one. Why, my dear boy, I 
have seen numbers of “manly" men (hand¬ 
some, too, at that,) who wore no mustache or 
beard of any kind. Nevertheless, I confess to 
a secret weakness for a “real nice” mustache 
or a fine pair of whiskers; hence rny contempt 
for “ scare-crows," These I advise the boys to 
keep shaving until they can do something 
handsome In the mustache direction, oven If 
they should have to wait years for It. The girls 
might try the same course with their heads, if 
they felt, disposed—I dare say with a good re¬ 
sult ! What do you think, cousin ? 
“ You speak, “Young Mustache,” of the “so- 
callrd " Cousin Johnnie. Now, Is it, possible 
you have lived all I hose years and failed to learn 
that C. J. is an established fact and not a myth ? 
Well, as it. seems ho, I suppose I must prove my 
relationship and identity. In the first place, 
since “Uncle CHARLES" is uncle to all young 
Ituralists and I urn niece to him. It t herefore fol¬ 
low’s that I must ire cousin to them: So much 
for the “Cousin;" now for the “Johnnie." 
Be it known that on my visiting cards the 
name there engraved Is “ Miss Johnnie It .” 
For further proof I would -end you one had I 
your address. You speak, also, of “many 
more of her kind.” There you are mistaken— 
there arc no more of her kind. There never has 
been but one Cousin Johnnie. She is “su£ 
veneris.'' 
- - - -» »♦- 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
An Aged Cat. 
Mr. Editor: I have never written anything 
for Mr. Moore’s valuable paper, called tho 
Rural New-Yorker, but will try now, and 
send many, many t hanks to thu kind friends of 
the Rural who have been ao good in sending 
so many things to read In tho papers. Wo have 
been subscribers to the Rural for a good many 
years; take it, now, think.a great deal of it, and 
welcome its visits every week. We have also 
received the Engraving entitled “ liirt.h-Day 
Morning." It is a beautiful picture. There are 
many good recipes in the Rural, too, some 
for bread, cake, cookies, and lots of other 
things, many of which we have tried and found 
good. 1 have a nice young hen that Is taking 
cure of thirty-eight chickens now. (Can you 
beat lhat, Mr. Editor?) And we havo got a fine 
oat that is over twenty years old and is very 
smart yet. She can catch mice; she brought a 
very pretty rat Into the house a few mornings 
ago. She Is a very good kitty. — Cousin Maud, 
Amboy, N. Y. _ 
A Strange Gobbler. 
Mr. Editor ;— My father has taken the Ru¬ 
ral for several years, and we like it very much. 
I like “Cousin Johnnie’s and also the boys’ 
and girls’ letters. I have not seen any from 
Now Jersey In some time, and so 1 thought 1 
would write, t think I can tell a story equal to 
tho one told by Willie of Delaware in the 
last number. We have a gobbler turkey. It 
takes care of all tho turkeys, after they are 
hatched, as good as any hen. One night the 
hens left all t heir turkeys out In tho field (it was 
thundering and lightning), and the gobbler 
staid with them all night and brought them 
home all right In the morning. Last summer 
we shut a hen and the gobbler In an empty corn 
crib, and made a uost for the lien in a barrel In 
the crib, and the gobbler drove the hen off of 
the nest, and he sot in that barrel on nothing 
for three days and nights, with nothing at all 
to eat 1 I could tell you some more of his ex¬ 
ploits if I had room. Mr. Editor, we have a hen 
Sitting on two apples, trad wo better let her 
sit or not? And will she hatch apples or chick¬ 
ens?- Ella S. L. 
A Voice from Vermont. 
Dear Rural: 1 thought I would like to 
write, for once, in the " Boys’ and Girls’ " col¬ 
umn. We take the Kuka l, ami like it much. 
Were surprised on receiving such a nice premi¬ 
um picture. 1 live on a small farm In Vermont, 
which, although stony. Is productive. For all 
that has beon snld about country life being 
pleasant, I cannot say as T like It very well. I 
have lived in the city nearly half of my life, Am 
fifteen—nearly sixteen—years old, and would 
like if some young lady of about, my age would 
correspond with mo.—M ay Lang, Hycyale. 
From a Live Young Texnn. 
Dear Rural;—3 am a Texas boy, and It is 
tho first time that I ever tried to write to you. 
T am cloven years old. I have a nice calf and 
also a lien. Tho lion has raised me twenty-five 
chickens, and I have some money with which I 
am going to buy some sheep this fall. I will tell 
you next year how I get along with them. I 
like to read the Rural, especially the Chil¬ 
dren’s Department.. Wo have no free schools 
here, so you will please excuse all mistakes. 
Will try and do better next time. Your little 
friend— Tommy Tatt, Austin, Texas. 
<3fltc Ipit^ler. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 5. 
/ 
{2Y“ Answer in two weeks. 
-♦♦♦- 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.—No. 4. 
Great tree, little bee. 
Eat and drink as well as we : 
Viewed aright, they excel 
Handicraft and human skill. 
I am composed id eight, letters, found in tho 
above: 
My first is in great, hut not in tree, 
My second is In little but not in bee; 
My third is in eat but, not in plum. 
My fourth is iu drink but not In rum ; 
My fifth Is in viewed but not in looked. 
My sixth is in skill but not In hooked ; 
My seventh Is In excel b.Ut not In surpass, 
My eight h is in viewed bill, not in a glass. 
My whole is a. now name, by the author of 
this, and the one lie has chosen for his own 
farm and borne. Henry D. Clark. 
53T" No answer accompanied this Enigma. 
-- 
BIBLICAL ENIGMA.—No. 2. 
I am composed of 87 letters: 
My 18, I, 6,30, -J, 26, a venerable saint. 
My 2, lfi, 13, It, tl, 13, a governor of Judea. 
M v 31. k, 37,3, a daughter of I'lmneul. 
My 86, 36, 1, 3, lb, one of the descendants of 
Hath. 
My ill, 36, 33, 1,1), 32, a son of Katurnh. 
My 4,7.18,28,12, a son of Scrug. 
Mv A, 22, 38, 24, u symbol of subjection. 
My 20, 22, 13, 2-1, 13. one id tho judges of Israel. 
My VI. 31, 12, 13, 10, 36, 13, a great-grandson of 
Noah. 
My 21, IS. 24, 34, 22, 13, 16. 3, 28, 23, Id, 35, a king 
wtio fought against one nt the patriarchs. 
My 87, 31, 17, 86,31. 10, a governor of Samaria. 
My whole is a verse in the book of John, 
1ST' Answer in two weeks. Adil. 
-♦-»■♦- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Aug. 23. 
Problem No. 6 .~ 
I 67.5082 rods. 
< 45.0055 “ 
) 33.7541 “ 
Grammatical Enigma No. l.-It is better 
to trust in tho Lord than to put confidence in 
man.— Psalms cxvii., v. 8. 
Miscellaneous Enigma No. 4.—Nost-build- 
ing Fish. 
Cross-Word Enigma No. 3.—Milwaukee. 
