MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
SEPT. 2? 
TO 
BETTER THAN GOLD! 
nr xbkn k, rexford. 
DAIU.iNG.como and nit by roc: 
I'ut your baud In mino, I pray i 
While. I tell yon, In the dunk, 
What I could not lu the <1t>y. 
I have ntrlvon, dear, to gain 
Somethin# lorn "rainy day,” 
But the storm has acme too soon ; 
Wealth and all It swept away. 
Homo's not even loft for us ; 
I could hear It all. alone. 
Bnt to think of vo u / My GOD! 
If I only could have known! * * 
Crept, the true wife doner atUI; 
Kissed him on his lip and brow; 
“ Darling, we're not beggars yet. 
For w« liavo each other now!” 
#ur Storir-^filtcr. 
WHAT CAME OF A FIND; 
OB, TIT Pi OKR ADVENTURE. 
BY MRS. GEORGE BARTLETT. 
The day was bright, and yet Oscab Cheese- 
max felt very blue as be eat. In bis offire poring 
over law papers. Ho gave a shiver, and glanc¬ 
ing up observed the office boy had gone out; 
the Are bail gone out also. Tie gave an Impa¬ 
tient push to his papers, und wished for—he 
hardly know what, And jm4 at that moment 
he heard a little, lady-llko knock at the door— 
quite unlike the thundering rap usually be¬ 
stowed upon it, by his friends from the neigh¬ 
boring offices. Of course it was a lady—a young, 
pretty lady. 
“ I am sorry to trouble you," she said, “but I 
am directed to this office for a pocket-book 
which I lost yesterday. Thisl believe is num¬ 
ber four," and she glanced at the door. 
Oscar looked amazed, and the lady, seeing 
him hesitate, went on. 
“The advertisement ivas in the Morning Ilcr- 
ald. Jtsaid at Room No. 4,80 King street, would 
be found the pocket-book which answered the 
description of mine.” 
“ There must bo some mistake," Oscab re¬ 
plied ; “ I have not found a pocket-book, neith¬ 
er has one been brought to me. Inm sorry, but 
it must; be a mistake in the paper. I regret I 
cannot assist you. Possibly it might be some 
other room in ibis building." 
The young lady remarked that she might 
have made a mistake in reading the paper, and 
with that she gave Oscar as sweet a smile as 
he had seen for many a day, and bade him 
“ Good morning." 
“That's very oilrl, (hough of course it’s a mis¬ 
take, somehow," said Oscar to himself, as he 
turned bock Into his dismal office, forgetting, 
however, to notice bow dismal it had seemed a 
moment before. 
“Of course it can’t be here," he repeated, 
fumbling over the papers at, the same time. 
“ Saji may, perhaps—the boy is honest—and 
he would never have thought of advertising it. 
Of tfourso It’s a mistake. Ry Jupiter, sho was 
pretty; if now I had only been so lucky as to 
And it ! Harry Lambert would have found 
an adventure in such a little affair as this, I 
suppose. Always meeting with some adven¬ 
ture, and nothing of the sort ever comes to me. 
Home fellow or other boa found t)y»t pocket- 
book ; and lie’ll get a smile—two, probably.” 
OriCAii gave another l.um to the heap of pa¬ 
pers on bis table, and one more yet; and then, 
straight before his eyes, lay a beautiful Russia- 
leather pocket-book. “Well" and Oscar 
looked at if as though he had seen the moon at 
bis feet—“ Well," he repeated, “and now how 
did that come there, (hat’s the question?” 
Sam had returned by this time. and certainly 
knew nothing about it. 
“Now what must she bo thinking of me?” 
said use air mentally. “She probably knew it 
was no mistake; and didn't even leave her ad¬ 
dress; thought perhaps it was superfluous. Ho 
now,—well, J will advertise; that will right the 
matter, and perhaps give rue an adventure.” 
To write the advertisement, would certainly 
appear u very easy thing, only it occurred to 
Oscar that Miss Ella the name Ella was 
worked with sills inside— would probably send 
for it, und that would end the affair. To dis¬ 
cover her address, and take if to her himself, 
was the thing. 
So, after one or two attempts, he wrote, de¬ 
scribing the lost article, and requesting that 
the address of the lady might be sent to the 
Herald office. OSCAR congratulated himself on 
this idea. 
The ro ull. was, the following day there came 
an envelope with the card, “ Mias Ella Gains¬ 
borough, No. !!7 - street.” That morning 
Oscar's clients wore left to their patience, 
while he hurried homo with an oye to his toil¬ 
et, and then proceeded to No. 37. 
“ Was Miss Gainsbouoogh at home?” 
Hho was at home, and she received Mr. Chebsh- 
mak, and from his hand her own little pocket- 
book. Hhe thanked him with the sweeten! 
grace, and regretted so very much the trouble 
lie had had. 
It win no trouble, Oscas declared in all sin¬ 
cerity ; but how it came on his office table, he 
said, was beyond his power of imagining. And 
here Oscar smiled and showed his white teeth, 
but blushed nevertheless, Imagining, perhaps, 
appearances were against him. Ho expressed 
his pleasure at having found it, and then hav¬ 
ing no excuse to prolong his call, rose to leave. 
“ Well, that Is all.” he said, as he went down 
the street; “ no adventure for me.” 
Ho whistled and hummed, and poked over 
his law papers the rest of the day. “ Ella— 
pshaw,” what was the use of thinking of it any 
more. 
But the next day there came a note, written 
on blush-colored paper, and suggesting the per¬ 
fume of violets. It wax from Ella. How de¬ 
lightful, except that it was so dreadful. 
Had Mr. Ciikbseman picked up a small ivory 
picture; one had dropped from that unfortu¬ 
nate pocket-book.” It wasaplcturoof herself, 
“ and of course of no value, except as it belong¬ 
ed to mamma." 
“ norrible 3” he had not found any bucIi treas¬ 
ure, but of course ho must fall under the impu¬ 
tation of having abstracted It. Would she for¬ 
give him for so coveting her picture as delib¬ 
erately to steal It? How did It get out. and 
how did t he pocket-book get on his table at 
all?—that was a problem for a Philadelphia 
lawyer to solve. 
Now, with all the desire In the world which 
he felt an hour ago, to make another call at No. 
37, under the present aspect of affairs a note 
would bo more agreeable. Accordingly, tliia 
was dispatched, and OSCAR ruminated over the 
mystery. 
A week passed, when suddenly tho jovial face 
of H Amor Lambert appeared in Oscar’s office. 
He had Just returned from Buffalo. 
"Well, Harry 1 what, adventures this lime? 
Caught a pair of acrobatic horses and saved 
beauty from destruction ; or befriended some 
old woman, and found she had some enchant¬ 
ing creature for a granddaughter?” 
“Adventures at every turn,” and Harry 
laughed; “by tho way, did you find a pocket- 
book on your tabic over(here?" 
“Good graclou*. Harry! did you put it 
there?” 
“ Well, you eee I picked it up just as I was 
coming In here,—you were out,—and I waa in 
sn awful hurry to catch the5 o'clock train ; but 
I slipped it under a paper for safe keeping; 1 
knew you would find it. But on ray way to the 
depot. I stopped and put an advertisement in 
tho Herald, directing to call hero for'lt. All 
right, Is It?” 
“All right! no; that is, a young lady—lovely 
Creature she was—she is, I mean—called, and I 
hadn’t seen It, and 1 felt somewhat uncomfort¬ 
able ; but tho next day I did find it, and I called 
at her house.” 
“Bhe told you where sho lived." 
" Well, I found out- in truth I had to adver¬ 
tise, because I forgot, t o ask her; but I called, 
—by Jove, Isn’t sho pretty, her name is Ella. 
Well, here the next day came a little note- hero 
it is now -asking If I had .!f:en a picture-" 
“Oh, the picture!—that reminds mo,” said 
Harry, feeling in Ida vest pocket*. 
“ The deuce take you, Harry Lambert l did 
yon take that picture out of ilia pocket-book ?” 
“ Now just bold on a bit. I took it out be¬ 
cause T wanted to look at it a little more, and 
ns I said, 1 was in a great burry for tbei>o'clock 
train; so 1 (bought If no owner ever came for 
tho pocket-book I would keep tho picture; 
and if there did, why ihen Lime enough to re- 
(urn It no such awful hurry." 
"Well, I must say!” 
“Well, I say you want a chance to go there 
again, and here now it is; and younovorwould 
have thought of taking out the picture to serve 
as an excuse for a second visit; and because I 
happened to do so. don't bo so furious. Stop, 
though,—I guess I’ll take it myself.” 
"No you don't.” 
“I’ll throw myself at her feet—tell her! was 
the fort unate tinder of tho pocket-book—that 
the picture so ein-*.:mted mo, I couldn’t resist 
taking it. Now Orcair be candid, und acknowl¬ 
edge you arc under obligations to me.” 
“Well, we’ll see about that." 
It was about a year after this when Harpy 
received a note from Oscar. “By heaven!" 
he exclaimed Moud, “J had forgotten Oscar’s 
little droll inst ance ; so hi.; adventure has come 
to something real. Alas for him! And I am 
invited to bo his second at the tragedy ; with¬ 
out doubt it would be my misfortune to stand 
in his pine© lint for (hat 5 o’clock train. I a 
married man 1 Well, to he sure it would be 
odd.” 
-+♦*. 
ONLY THREE OF US. 
BY MARIE S. LADD. 
There were only three of us left in the old 
house, tho Thanksgiving night before Arthur 
went away, and just as the twilight was falling 
I Climbed into one of the uld-fasliioned win¬ 
dows to look without. Tho prospect was drear 
enough, amt the pang I was to fcul at parting 
sharpened tl.o whole scene. The elms were 
stripped of leaves, and the water was dripping 
tearfully from their spray; and beyond the 
sloping bank, the unsteady waves look d like 
dark clouds dropped on the-surface of the lake, 
and the rocks and pebbles of (he shore wore 
vet with the lalo ruin. The wind swept around 
the house In confused gusts, for it had not yet 
decided which way to blow, and sometimes It 
would shake the doors and windows as if with 
a heavy hand, and anon hush its voice to a 
whisper, and come moaning to us through tho 
crevices. 
“It is an old house,” I said, turning to Ar¬ 
thur, who, with Alice, was standing near. 
“ It is an old house,” ho repeated, “ and like 
all old houses has its ghosts. Do not question 
my veracity with doubting eyes, and I will tell 
you of apparitions that haunt it dally." 
" At twilight I ootno in here often from hard 
study, and I see our grandfather seated, as of 
old at other Thanksgiving seasons, in his arm¬ 
chair with head bent low upon his cane; and at. 
yonder table your mother works thoughtfully, 
or roads quietly from some choice volume. But 
tho mints clear away, and Instead, Alice sits 
radiant before me, and you hover around and 
propound to me those curious questions, and 
the ghosts are gone. I do not mean (hat I real¬ 
ly see them, you know," he explained, in order 
to do away with my incredulity, “ and I do not 
mean t hat there are real ghosts t o be. seen here, 
only the specters that fancy calls up; but we 
arc only specters ourselves, little cousin, that 
flit, hern untl Oon calls us away." 
It was growing darker now-. Betty had gone 
to spend the night with a alck child, and 1 
t hought It would be a relief to hear her stirring 
in the kitchen, and getting down from my win¬ 
dow I aid that I wished Betty had not gone 
away, for it was a gloomy night, and a large 
house for only three of us. Then Alice went 
out for the lights, and Arthur placed our 
chairs, relinking mo gravely for my selfishness. 
We did not sit down Immediately, though, but 
stood looking at each other, talking, and mak¬ 
ing three quiet shadows on the wall. And Ait- 
THUH said wo were always casting shadows 
wherever wo went; and some were somber 
enough to many poor hearts, God knew. But 
there were others cool and refreshing that fell 
where they were moat needed in the heat and 
fever of life. "Let us look well to our «hnd- 
owa, Minnie ; and you too, Miss Alice," ho 
said, after wo liad sat down. 
And so we sat by the high box stove and 
talked, until wo quite forgot that the wind was 
moaning around the houso und the waves were 
dashing high upon the long, low beach, and 
that the morrow wa-. Thanksgiving Day. 
There would be many changes In all three of 
us, Arthur said, before wo could meet again ; 
but he hoped it would be all just as it should 
bo. He went forth with liign hopes, it was true, 
but he waa strangely attached to the old house, 
and It was hard for him to leave it. Ho was 
attached to tho tuuiutos, loo, and should never 
form new ties that could ho so intimately asso¬ 
ciated with dear remembrances, for by nature 
ho was conservative J so much so, that he felt 
he could never he happy to inuko choice of a 
llfo companion without the limits of that 
household. It was a pity that 1 was hlseousln, 
for in time I would be old enough to become 
his wife. Ho looked very steadily at me whilo 
speaking, and I made answer that for the world 
I would never marry him. I thought too much 
of him. He looked amused, and said that I 
was a strange puss, a queer little cat, and then 
l added thatboBido tuo there was only Alice 
left for him, and that she. too, waa my cousin. 
“ But she ia not mine,"be said quickly,catch¬ 
ing up her hand, and 1 walked up the long din¬ 
ing room, and sat down in my window seat to 
work out thopuzzllngconncctlon, while I look¬ 
ed out into the dark night. 
We all left the dear old house the next day 
after Thanksgiving, Arthur to pursue his t he¬ 
ological studies, Alice to live with a lelative 
in another town, and I to attend school in a 
little village not far away. Alice and l met 
sometimes, and visited the old house together, 
for wo left It uninhabited. Tho swallows built 
their nests in (ho chimneys, and the robins 
wove ( heirs in tho corners of the old windows 
and gables, and they always welcomed ua with 
their happy fluttering# and their songs, for 
these little creatures like the sound of human 
voices and the presence of human beings. The 
deserted house looked Jes* cheerless, made 
alive with their busy, social habits; so we culled 
thorn our tenants, Alice and I; and wrote Ar¬ 
thur long letters under the brown apple trees, 
of their quiet ways and thrifty little lives. And 
we would make our letters Just as fresh as de¬ 
scription of peach and apple blossom and rose 
ami rosemary, and all the fragrance of sum¬ 
mer coukl make them; for we said they must 
fall like fresh bouquets among the musty tomes 
of the old books he wits continually poring 
over. And I Inm we strove to keep him mindful 
that t here were two hearts very tender of his 
happiness during his absence and toll. 
Well, Arthur came back at. Inst. I met him 
at* Alice’s house Thanksgiving night, and we 
were very happy, I think, all three of ns. Ho 
had worked hard, he said, during the years ol 
our separation, and hud enjoyed many a rich 
feast studying the old masters. He thought 
they had brought him ueorcrtoGOD. and would 
make him more useful I<• the world. "Had 1 
done much good since 1 had gone out from the 
house or our grandfather?" “ t did not know. 
But AupE," 1 said, “ with her it had been quite 
different; slit* had one of those large hearts 
which the world so much needed: she could 
understand all (he need* ol people who had 
had quite i. different experience from hers. !?ho 
was a noble woman, and would make an excel¬ 
lent, such an excellent minister'll wife." 
Arthur plucked a flower from hia button¬ 
hole, analyzed und described it to me, und ex¬ 
plained how much more luxuriantly he bad 
soon it blossom in a warmer cJimo. And then 
be L• > 1 < 1 me that Alice had pi * *ndsed I o become 
his wife. He felt very unworthy, but. supreme¬ 
ly happy. 
Well, tlmy were married. A I.ice and A RTm u, 
just as the robins began to sing in the budding 
cherry trees. 1 went, down with them to their 
new home, whose white walls gleam out so 
pleasantly from the locusts and lilacs surround¬ 
ing it. In our quiet, heartfelt ways we are 
very happy here, all three of us. And we thank 
God hourly for his loving kindness to us in our 
orphaned lives, and for his tender mercies now 
shown to us. 
j&tbbatft Jl&ttltng. 
- -- w 
OVER AND OVER AGAIN. 
Over and over again, 
No matter which way I turn, 
1 always And ill the Book oi Life 
gome lesson t have to learn. 
I must take my turn at the mill. 
I must grind ont tbo golden grain; 
I must work at my tusk with a resolute will, 
Over and over again. 
We cannot measure the need 
Of even the tiniest Bower, 
Nor cheek the flow or the golden sands 
That run through a single hour. 
But the morning dews must fall. 
And the sun and the sumtnerraln 
Must do their part, nnd perform It all 
Over and over again. 
Over and over again 
The brook through the meadow flows, ' 
And over nnd over again 
Tile ponderous mill wheel goes; 
Once doing will not suffice, 
Though doing be not In vain, 
And a blessing, failing us once or twice, 
May come If wo try again. 
Tho path that has once been trod 
Is never ro rough to the feet, 
And the lesson we unuo have learned 
Is never so hard to repeat. 
Though sorrowful tours may fall. 
And the heart to Its depth be driven 
With the storm and tempest wo need them all 
To render us meet In Heaven. 
-—-♦ ♦♦*--—- 
OUR REAL CARES. 
There is no trouble about casting other peo¬ 
ple’s cares on God, or our own, when we have 
not got any. Wo can cast the cares of 20 years 
ago on God, and uny number of Imaginary cares. 
Tho proud man says, “ Ho don't feel hurt, He 
don’t care what people say about him.” An¬ 
other man has large approbaUvcuess, and ho 
suffers by what people say and think. The 
proud man says to him, “ I’m surprised that 
you, with all your Christian professions, can't 
cast all your anxieties on God. I'm surprised 
you don’t feel calm 1” As if tho ox should say 
to the horse, “ Why, you quiver all over whon a 
fly touches you; 500 might bo on mo, and f 
would not swing round my tail to bit them." 
The ox don’t feel, (lie horse docs. Tho tough 
can't give advice to the tender. Muscle can’t 
talk to nerve, or bone to muscle. Those cares 
that you do fool and arc sensitive to, those are 
the ones you min t oast on God.—IT. IK. Beecher. 
HOW WE LOOK AT THINGS. 
Two Rabbis approaching Jerusalem observed 
a fox running upon the hill of Zion, and Rab¬ 
bi Joshua wept, but itubbl EJ lexer laughed. 
“Wherefore dost thou laugh?” said he who 
wept. “Nay, wherefore dosL thou weep?” de¬ 
manded Uliczer. “ I weep," replied tho Itabhi 
Joshua, “ because i see what waa written in 
the Lamentations fullllled ; because of the Mt. 
Zion which is desolate, the foxes full ifpon it." 
"And therefore do I laugh,” wild Rabbi KUe- 
zor, “ for when t see with my own eyes that 
God has fulilllod His threatening to tho very 
letter, I have thoraby a pledge that not one of 
His promises shall fail, for Ho is ever more 
ready to show mercy than judgment.” 
-*•*-♦- 
SUGGESTIVE THOUGHTS. 
The defects of tho understanding, like those 
of the face, grow worse as we grow old.— /foc/tc- 
foueauld. 
The two best rules for a system of rhetoric 
are, llrst, have something to say, and next say 
it .—1'hntnom. 
THREE questions to be put to ourselves be¬ 
fore speaking evil of any man Fist, is it true? 
Second, is It kind ? Third is it necessary. 
Often do we think when wo ought to act, 
and act whon it behooves us to reflect; hence 
caution is frequently a; fatal as ra-hnqss. 
Man has not love for spiritual life and Immor¬ 
tality, until sin breaks to pieces the earthly 
things on which his affuctions are fastened. 
Reverence the highest, have patience with 
tho lowest. Let this day's performance of tho 
meanest duty be thy religion. Are the stars too 
distant, pick up the pebble that Jins at. thy feet 
and from it learn all, -Maruarct FuUcr. 
There ought to bo such an atmn.-phere in 
every Christian church that a man going there 
and sitting there two hours should take the 
contagion of heaven, and carry homo u lire to 
kindle tho altar whence ho catne.— Bewher. 
I lire to read about Moses best in the Old 
Testament, lie carried n hard business well 
through, nnd di<*d when other folks were going 
to reap tho fruits; a man must have courage to 
look at his own life so, and think what’ll come 
of it ufter lie's dead nnd gone. A good, solid 
bit o’ work lasts; if it’s only laying a floor 
down, somebody's the better for it’s being done 
well, besides the man us does it.—Own Flint. 
-- 
The Evangelical Alliance. The Commit¬ 
tee of Arrangements for tho General Confer¬ 
ence of the Evangelical Alliance give notice 
that the Conference will be held in the Hall of 
the Voung Men’s Christian Association in the 
City of New York, comeneing Oct. 2 and closing 
Oct. 12,1873. 
C 
