-JAM. 24 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Jfoifys' ffliftfolk 
A FAREWELL. 
nr aliqua. 
The roses are under the snow, 
The sunshine hidden away. 
And never again. I know. 
Can come to my life a day 
I,ike that whoo we stood beneath 
The trees In their blooming fair. 
And falling petals formed a wreath 
Of whtto on her sunny hair. 
There was hopo In her low good-by. 
And regret as she turned away; 
The wind sighed softly its farewell 
And a robin sang good-day. 
O, beauty of youth and love, 1 
O, brightness of sunny May! 
We parted forever amid 
The bloom of that golden day. 
• 
The hair that, was wreathed in bloom 
Rome down by the breeze’s breath. 
To-day in silence and gloom 
Is crowned with blossoms of death; 
The roses aru Under the snow. 
The wind has a moaning sigh, 
And to her who Is hurled low 
1 murmur a last good-by. 
A LEAF FROM VINE COTTAGE. 
»y nrrr.v reed. 
• 
The last lingering wail of the oldyear comes 
mournfully to my cars through the lea (loss 
vines that still cling lovingly and with seeming 
protection to trellis and wall of our sunny cot¬ 
tage— noBtling mid I t ee and shrub and vino - to 
trie t he pleasantest spot In all the world ; be¬ 
cause It it* iny homo and the home of the loved 
ones whose lives are most closely Interwoven 
with mine. It is always sad to bid a final adieu 
to any one, or any thing, with which we have 
been Intimately or pleasantly associated, and 
may we not appropriately Indulge fn a few sober 
thoughts as wc part forever from the old year, 
that will soon have its record with (ho “annals 
of the past." We find ourselves to-night, one 
year older than when wo welcomed its advent 
great ly matured, it may he, during its contin¬ 
uance.^ rich experience, In gathered wisdom 
and needful discipline; or perhaps grown pre¬ 
maturely old through the soul-sickness of hopes 
deferred, cruel disappointments or crumbling 
expectations; and OI to how many has il been 
freighted with crushing sorrow. In our own 
peaceful <1 welling the death-angel hovered, for 
a tlmo beclouding the brightness of its sun¬ 
shine, but In tender mercy, Our Futher stayed 
his hand, and to-night we are rejoicing in an 
unbroken family circle the children still back 
In the warmth of a mother's love, and Paicr 
Fitniilia .< continues to enjoy the benefit of Ins 
wife's co-oferr.tlon and free lt.rf.utYA. 
As we bid adieu to tile old year, wo can easily 
recall whatever of pain or pleasure it lias 
brought to us; but of the new year, whose 
footsteps are swift approaching, we know not 
what it may bring forth, Hon grant it may 
prove a." Ilr.j t' 1 ! Now Year!” 
Rut the thought that was uppermost in mv 
mind when I began to write was a troubled 
one, occasioned by a remark of said Pah r Fa¬ 
in Hum that, la consideration of hard times, it 
would he advisable for us to retrench In our 
reading matter, followed by a proposition to 
give up the Herat. Nkw-Youi.m; retaining 
but one Agricultural paper, anti that the cheap¬ 
er one, (also u desirable paper), arguing that it 
would answer every purpose as far ua hr is con¬ 
cerned ; but my heart gave a sudden uprising 
Into my throat at the bare idea of my doing 
without the Rural ; and I have since been try¬ 
ing to inquire how l could get along without it. 
With the exception Of two or three mont hs It 
has been a weekly visitor in our home from the 
time we first " set up housekeeping" until now, 
and was always gladly welcomed and eagerly 
perused, never failing in its supply of some¬ 
thing Instructive and entertaining. And then 
I have always considered it ouch a safe compan¬ 
ion for the children, who have grown to watch 
as Impatiently for its coming as myself; arid 
really, f cannot make it seem as though our 
family would ho complete w ithout It. It tolls 
us how to prevent, ns well as cure, disease— 
how to prepare food and how to oat it-—how to 
cultivate the precious flower#, and bow to pre¬ 
serve inserts; howto well, there ure so many 
things It tells us that 1 fear the inmates of 
** Vine Cottage" would degenerate without it. 
Each volume is filed and sewed together with 
Its index, ready for future reference, ns occa¬ 
sion may require—and the occasion presents 
Itself almost daily, as the well-thumbed ap¬ 
pearance of the volumes plainly testifies. On 
stormy, or half-sick days, when time hangs 
heavily with restless childhood, especially with 
boyhood, those old volumes urc brought into 
requisition, often proving of Sttoh absorbing 
interest to them that it is with reluctance they 
are Induced to leave them to partake of their J 
meals. And what a feast of good things are 
they In themselves! How much of relish in tho 
spicy articles emanating from time to time 
from some l ister pen—so much of helpfulness 
and sou! inspiration In the heart and life expe¬ 
riences, and disinterested counsels of noble 
and experienced minds! 
And last, though not least, I have derived 
unceasing enjoyment from the correspondence 
of Mary A. E. Wager and “ Daily Rural Life," 
It has not been my privilege during the past 
year to indulge in the luxury of travel, having 
scarcely ventured beyond the vicinity of my 
home, still In imagination I have'Journeyed 
quite extensively—through Europe with Mary 
A. B, Wager, “doing” many places of public 
interest, and In my “ mind’s eye” beholding, 
with her, the grandeur and beauty oT the Old 
World, with Its endless sight-seeing and ever- 
varying experiences and also in our own 
country, through the “ Far West" with “Daily 
Rural Life," gathering words of wisdom as they 
dropped from his pen, and enjoying, In a quiet 
way, the plooauro and novelty of the “trip," 
without experiencing any of Its fatigue or In¬ 
curring the least, expense. And, later, that 
restful visit, to tho old homestead, awakening 
so many sacred memories! Ah me J how can I 
exist without the aid of the dear Rural ! The 
more I think of it the firmer becomes my con¬ 
viction that Moore's RURAL New-Yorker is 
Indispensable to the happiness and well being 
of at least one household, and that retrench¬ 
ment should sooner begin in scrimping the 
“ larder" than in stint ing the supply of “ food 
for the mind." 
Deo. 81, 73. 
-- 
MOTHERS, SPEAK KINDLY. 
Children catch cross tones quicker than 
parrots, and they often become permanent 
habits la them. When mother sets the exam¬ 
ple, you will scarcely hear a pleasant word 
among the children in their plays with each 
other. Yot tho discipline of such a family Is 
always weak and Irregular. Tho children ex¬ 
pect just so much scolding before they do any¬ 
thing they are bid, while In many a home 
where the low, firm tone of mother, or tho de¬ 
cided look of her steady eye, is law, they al¬ 
ways think of obedience, either In or out of 
sight. Oh, mother! It is worth a groat deal to 
cultivate ihafexcellcnl thing In woman,a low, 
sweet voice. If you are ever so much tried by 
the mischievous or willful pranks of the little 
one, speak low. It will be a great help to you 
to even try to be patient and cheerful, if you 
cannot, succeed. Anger makes you wretched, 
and your children also. I inpatient , angry tones 
never did the heart good, but plenty of evil. 
You cannot have the excuso for them that 
they lighten your burdens at all; they make 
them only ten pounds heavier. For your own, 
as welt as your children’s sake, learn to speak 
low. They will remember that tone when 
your head is under the turf. So, too, will they 
remember a harsh and angry tone. Which 
legacy will you leave to your children ? 
[mm. 
ENGLI8H FACTORY GIRLS. 
An observer among the English factory girls 
desorlbas their dinner hour amusingly. The 
crowds had assembled outside of a certain 
cheap conk shop in the half hour allowed fur 
I dinner. Among the •girls was one ragged, 
i scantily-clothed child of about fourteen. Pin; 
stood for a long tlmo wlstfullybeforo the cook- 
■ shop window. All the other# nud gone, ami 
this forlorn object still stood there rattling a 
few halfpence in her hand. Finally, with a 
' longing look at the liisclom display, she paused 
for a last sniff al the ojien door, and then 
dashed off down the street. The observer fol- 
| lowed, thinking that she was seeking a cheaper 
cook-shop, and pitying her. Mill she stopped 
at a store where second-hand finery was for 
sale, entered, and In u fyw moments returned 
with a somewhat faded but still gorgeous 
bunch of arl iUeiul fiowera, consisting of a rose 
full blown, a poppy or two, arid a fair sprinkling 
of wheat. With a glow of triumph on her w iz¬ 
ened face, she east an eager glance to the right 
and left, and spying close at hand I he secluded 
gateway of a timber yard, darted across tho 
road, and, crouching in a corner, was soon busy 
with her battered old bat on her knees retrim¬ 
ming It. • 
— - 
THE HOME OF TASTE. 
Uovv easy it Is to bo neat—to be clean ! How 
easy to arrange the rooms with tho most grace¬ 
ful propriety! How easy it. is to invest our 
houses with the truest elegance! Elegance 
resides not with the upholsterer or the draper; 
It exists in the ■•pipit presiding over the apart- 
met its of the dwelling. Contentment must 
always be most grateful; ii. sheds serenity over 
tho scene of Its abode; it transforms a waste 
into a garden. The homo lighted by those 
Imitations of a nobler and brighter life may be 
wanting in much which the discontented de- 
siro, but to its Inhabitants It will be a palace, 
far outvying the Oriental In brilliancy and 
beauty. 
-- -_—. 
Wedding cards ar.c vory plain this season, 
and not disfigured by gaudy, illuminated mon¬ 
ograms. The initials at tho top of the note- 
sheet and on the envelope Is all that is 
necessary. 
Anew style of trimming black silk dresses 
is to slash the front of the skirt and waist with 
black velvet, a Ja Hussar. A double row of 
black velvet buttons enhances tho “ military 
effect.’’ 
The Duchess of Aosta—tho wife of Amadous, 
late of Spain—is very Ill. When she left Mad¬ 
rid in haste, she was, in traveling across Spain, 
exposed to the cold January weather, and the 
seeds of consumption were sown, which, it is 
feared, will prove fatal to her. 
THE YELLOW COTTAGE. 
’Mid fields with useless daisies white, 
Between a river and a wood, 
With not another house In sight, 
Tho low-roofed yellow cottage stood, 
Where l, 
Long years ago, a little maid. 
Through all life’s rosy morning played. 
No other child the region knew j 
My only pluymale was myself, 
And all our hooka, a treasured few, 
Were gathered on a single shelf: 
But oh 
Not wraith a king might prize could bo 
Wliat those old volumes were Pi me 1 
On winter nights beside tho fire. 
In summer, sitting In tho door, ’ 
1 tqrned, with love that did not tire, 
Their well-worn paged o'enund o’er; 
In me, 
Though sadly union, it Is true. 
Their horolnos’all lived anew ! 
One day, about my neck a rutT 
Of elder flowers with fragrant breath, 
I was, with conscious pride enough 
To suit tho part, Elizabeth; 
Tho next, 
Ensnared by many wily plots, 
I sighed, tho haple.'irt Queen of Scots 1 
Where darting swallows used to flit, 
Close to rne, on some Jutting rocks. 
Above the river, 1 would alt. 
For hours, and wreath my yellow locks. 
And trill 
A child's shrill song, and, ringing, play 
It was a siren’s witching lay. 
On Sundays, underneath the tree 
That overhung the orchard wall. 
While watching, one by one, to see 
The ripe, SWcul, apples full, 
I tried 
My very very best to make beliovo 
. I was in Eden and was live 1 
Oh, golden hour* ! when I, to-day. 
Would nmke a truce Willi care. 
No more of queens, in bright array, 
I dream, or sirens fair; 
In thought, 
I am again the little maid 
Who round the yellow cottage played ; 
I'.tfitrtoa Bouylau, lit SI. Ntciiafin. 
-♦-*-«►- 
ONE OF THE BOYS. 
BY PAUL REVERE. 
Yes, I am one of the boys, anti I look upon 
J the boys and girls with a great deal of interest. 
1 am an old boy now, but I loci jolly and buoy¬ 
ant. and gallop over my younger days to the 
boy that sit* upon my knee, very often, roimat- 
lng to I j I m of the days w ben I lived with my 
father as ha does now with hlb and kept pets as 
ho will probably want to. It was many years 
but f still revel in the Dieinorics of those 
earlier times. Those rabbits, Tlouny Jennie 
and Runny Dick, pets of which i have over 
since felt proud, wldah i kept In a little box in 
the yard, Dick was the handsomest rabbit I 
over saw, milk-white, with a light, chestnut- 
colored tall and cart, with a little marking of 
the same color round his eyas,, and Ills four 
paws all colored. And how his pink eyes did 
glisten I And Jennie, too, was. very pretty, be¬ 
ing handsomely marked with blitek. And there 
they lived like man and wife; and oh, how 
pleased I Was when they dug a hole in the 
ground and made a nest to live in. Daily I fed 
them with (eras; and clover, cabbage leaves, etc. 
I had not kept them a great while before one 
day t was shocked to find that Jennie had lost 
all the fur from her breast, and I mourned anil 
called Dick very, very bad names for treating 
•Jennie so; hut afterwards, when the little tote, 
fifteen of thetn, would sly up out of the hole 
and get into tho corner, looking for all the 
world like lumps of cotton batting, about as 
■W as a hen’a egg, of three different colors 
and I found that Jennie herself had pulled the 
hair from her own breast to make t horn a soft, 
c^owny nest, just as my mother would tuck me 
up in the blankets, to keop mo warm, I thought 
more of her than ever. Oh, how I became at¬ 
tached In them! 
And then, when they got Into neighbor H.’s 
cabbages and clover, and my father had a bill to 
pay, and like a great Judge In tho court pro¬ 
nounced them a nuisance, and sent me off on a 
visit while ho gave them to a boy away off in 
another part of the city, and 1 came homo and 
found Bonny Jennie and Dick gone, how I 
grieved that being naughty and stealing had 
taken them away from true friends and given 
them to strangers, just as such acts tn children 
sometimes tears them from friends and places 
them In reform schools! I could not forget 
thorn. I followed thorn, and was Horry to find 
they kept at tholr old practices; and months 
aftor I one day met Dick’s keeper with 111# cold 
form in his hand, minus his head, and with 
tears in li is eyes ho told me old Bon Bradshaw 
had caught him knowing his Cabbages and had 
chopped off bis head. Wu wept together over 
Dick’s misgivings and his sad fate, and despised 
the name of old Bud Bradshaw for many 
year ;; and It seems to me wc wanted to, if we 
didn’t, drown bis cat. Jennie behaved bettor 
after Dick s death, and was afterwards trans¬ 
ported, and I have always hoped died a natural 
death. 
But. I could not bo Without pets, and father 
was always willing to gratify bis children in 
j every whim that was proper; so, for twenty-five 
cents,U bought a BoW-link, or the bird that in 
; tho meadows and clover lots so calls himself 
lor “ Robert of Lincoln," described by the poet 
thus: 
“ Robert of Lincoln Is gaily dressed, 
Wearing a bright black wedding coat: 
White are Ills shoulders and white his crest. 
Hour him call in his uicrry note— 
‘ Bob-o’-llnk, bob-o’-llnk, 
Spink, spank, spluk.’ " 
Tn a large cage I kept him, and fed him with 
barley, and ho antig nice. As the fall eumo and 
the weather became cold, ho began to change 
his Color to a dingy brown, but lie did not 
change hi# song, and I cared for and loved him. 
Into my good grace# In the meantime had crept 
a cat, and into the good graces of tho whole 
household tho little vixen had mowed herself. 
She loved birds, but she loved them in such a 
different, way from the rest of tho household 
that her quarters nights were tn tho back 
room. Well, ono night I was awakened by a 
noise that sounded like the flutter and cries of 
a bird; but if. was morning before I stlrrod my¬ 
self, and when t did go down the o«go was 
empty, and that feline Hunan, with glaring eyes 
and a sneaking air, made round t.lm room llko 
a cornered and guilty thing, and a boy was 
chasing her with a hammer when his father en¬ 
tered, and, taking the cat’s part, bade him stop, 
and he did stop, and lmd nothing left of that 
bird to console him but a tail feather and that 
boy was mo. But Susan got her reward at last, 
as ail such scape-goats do. A smaller brother 
could not endure her aftor that, and because 
she didn't eat fast.enough tosult him. he throw 
a stone ut her one day, and in a minute poor 
puss was dead. There was no mourning, and 
again for awhile the house was clear. 
-- 
HOW ELIHU BURRITT STUDIED- 
1 n his autobiography In “Ten-minute Talks " 
Klihu Burritt tolls how bo studied mathemat¬ 
ics. He couldn’t afford time to at tend school, 
so lie used to do certain problems “in his 
head" while hammering away at ids anvil. 
Here Is ono of thorn : 
How many yards of cloth, three feet in 
width cut Into si rips an Inch wide, and allow¬ 
ing half an inch at each orni for tho lap, would 
it require to reach from tlio center of the Bun 
to the center of the earth, and how much 
would It all cost at a shilling a yard?" Ho 
would not allow himself to make a single 
figure with chalk or charcoal in working out 
this problem, and he would carry home to his 
brother all tho multiplications in his head, 
and give them off to him and hi# assistant, 
who took them down on their slates, and veri¬ 
fied and proved each separate calculation, and 
found the final result to bo correct. 
Resolve to edge In a little reading every day, 
if U Is but a si iiglo sentence. J f you gain fifteen 
minutes « day, it will make Itself felt at. the end 
of the year. 
fit Itelcr. 
*r 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.-No. 2. 
Mv first is in Hettio but not In Nick, 
My second’s In Nettie but not in Dirk ; 
My third is In roam but not in travel, 
My fourth 1 b in clay but not In gravel; 
My fifty is in church but not in steeple, 
My sixth is in purson but not in people; 
My seventh Is in brow but not in bake, 
My eighth la in bread but not In cake; 
My ninth is In white but not in black. 
My tenth is in bend but not in crack. 
My whole is a poem by Tennyson. 
• Answer in two weeks. x. y. z. 
I M - 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA—No. 4. 
I am composed of 28 letters: 
My "0,3, 7, 25 is a man’s name. 
My 2, 11, 21 is an article of clothing. 
My 13, 30, 15 is what girls dislike to be called. 
My 11, 5,!), 23 is a farmer’s tool. 
My 4,37,17, fi is a kind of fruit. 
My 12, I la a personal pronoun. 
My 15,23, 17,18 is u kind of fish. 
My 21, Iff, 10, la a nickname for a girl. 
My whole is a well-known proverb. 
Answer in two weeks. Filbert. 
■ ■ •»« 
CONUNDRUM,—No. 1. 
Why must we expect tougher weather since 
the holidays? q. e. d. 
1527" Answer in two weeks. 
■-- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Jan. 10. 
Problem No. 2.—The 4 the lad had for him- 
self made less by the half peach which he took 
from his sister's half, gives 3!4 as the real half 
when coming to divide with his sifter- leaving 
II for her, and 7 when lie loft his mother. Add¬ 
ing half a peach to that 7 makes 7>, as the real 
luUI anil 8 as tho number die received. Her 8 
juiu the / left in the baaki.f oqir»J hi when he 
left his father, and Iff us the father's share; and 
la and 18 equal 31—tho number taken from the 
orchard. 
Illustrated Rebttr No. 2.—Prairie chicken. 
Miscellaneous Enigma No. 2.— 
A man at words and not of deeds 
Is like a garden lull of weeds. 
I ■Word-Puzzle No. 1.—Petunia. 
