MOORE’S RURAL WEW-YORK.ER. 
MARSH 14 
man read his newspaper before the Are. Noth¬ 
ing oIbg was astir. 
“I asked for a room. The clerk nodded. 
“ • Do you care what floor?’ he asked. 
“I shook my head. 
‘“Number twenty-nine is empty,' he said, 
and tossed a key to the waiter, whom I followed 
at once. , ^ M t 
“ We reached the room by two flights of Btairs. 
At the door the waiter paused. f 
“ • Thou ght lie said twenty-nine,* he muttered. ( 
♦The key is twenty-one,* _ . 
“‘Then opon twenty-one with II,' T said. *1 . 
don't care for the number of the room.' 
“ ‘ No sir—to be sure, sir,’ said the waiter, and ^ 
passed along a few steps further. 
‘“Twenty-one,* he said, and, unlocking a ( 
door, pushed it open. , 
“ ‘ Shall I bring you anything, Sir?' he said. 
“ I answered ‘ No,’ and he left me, having put 
the candle on my bureau. 
44 The hour bad come. An I shut tho door, a ^ 
heavy sigh escaped me. Alas! that life had 
become so woeful a thing to me that I should 
deslro to be rid of it. In the dim light, of my 
one caudle I paced the floor, and thought, bit- 
terly of the girl I Iovad bo dearly. 
“It was in the days of curtained beds. The 
bod in tills room was hung with dark chintz, 
so were tho windows. Over the bureau was a 
looking-glass, with a portrait of a lady In puffed 
sleeves and high coni') at tho top, by way of 
ornament. There were four stuffed chairs, and 
a brass shovel and tongs stood guard beside the 
grate. I fancied myself lying dead on the. bed 
amidst all those belongings, tuid felt sorry for 
myself. Then I look my pistols from my port¬ 
manteau, and leaving my door unlocked, for 
why should I put the landlord to the trouble of 
breaking it opon, I laydown on the bed, drew 
tho ourlalns, took a pistol in each band, and, 
ns true iib I now speak to you, had the muzzle 
of each to a temple, when some one opened the 
door, and—“ ‘ There, now, Jessie,’ said a voice, 
‘ I told you, you didn’t lock it,.’ 
“ ‘ I did, said another voice, * and sent the key 
to the office by the chamber-maid.’ 
“I laid the pistols down and peeped through 
the curtains. There were two ladles in the 
room. One an old lady in a brown front of 
false curls, the other my cruel lady-love, Jessie 
Grey. For a moment I fancied I must be dream¬ 
ing. 
“ ‘ Sure its the right number ?’ asked Jessie. 
‘“Twenty-one yes,’ said the other. ‘And 
here’s my band-box. Oh, dear! I’m sleepy. 
•* ‘ I am not,’ said Jessie- ‘ I wish 1 was, aunt.’ 
‘“You didn’t sleep a wink last night,’ said 
the aunt. ‘Nor you havn’t eateu your meals 
to-day. You’ll go Into a decline It you go on 
that way. I’ll see Dr. Black about you to¬ 
morrow.’ 
“ ‘ I don't want Dr. Black to be called, sighed 
Jessie. ‘I’d rather die.’ 
“‘What’s the matter?’ cried the old lady. 
‘Yon are not yourself. You don’t eat or sleep, 
and cry perpetually, It at ails you ? 
“‘I'm miserable,’ said Jessie. 
“ ‘ Why? ’ cried her aunt. 
“ ‘ Oh, auat,,’ said Jessie, ‘ it’s all your fault. 
You told me over and over again that a girl 
must never Jump at an offer; that a man must 
bo refused at least once, or he’d not value a 
girl. And I liked him so! And, oh! ho liked 
me ! And when ho asked mo I felt so glad I—1 
said “Oh, dear, no !" and he left me without a 
word. And I’m so sorry! On, sorry because I 
loved him, aunt.’ 
“ ‘ You little goose I' cried the old lady. 
“ As for me. you can fancy how I felt. 1 had 
no thought of suicide now. My desire was to 
live and ask the question over again. I pock 
eted my pistols and crept down on the other 
side of the bed. 1 stepped toward the bureau 
and blew out the caudle. The faint red light 
of the flro was still in the room. As I dashed 
out of the door. I heard two female screams, 
but I escaped in safety. 
“ l met the waiter on the stairs. 
*“ Found out the mistake, sir;’ he said, just 
coming to rectify it. 
“ * Don’t mention it,* 1 said. ‘I'm very glad— 
that is, it don't matter. Here is something for 
your trouble,' and I gave him a flve-doliar bill. 
“ He said, * I thank ye sirbut I saw that lie 
thought me crazy. Ho was confirmed in his 
opinion when, as I passed to the door of my on n 
room, I cried: 
“‘Heaven bless twenty-one! It’s a lucky 
number 1’ 
" But I never was saner than I was then, ana 
never half so happy. 
“ Of course, I proposed to Jessie the very next 
day, and I need not tell you that her answer 
•was not ‘ 0, dear, no;’ and that’s why I call 
twenty-one my lucky number.” 
jntovatiij 
Wohk.—W ork is of a religious nature ; work 
is of a brave nature, which it is the aim of all 
religion to be. “All work of man is us the 
swimmer's.” A waste ocean threatens to de¬ 
vour him; if he front it not bravely, it will keep 
its word. By incessant, wise defiance of it, 
lusty rebuke and buffet ol it, behold how it 
loyally supports him—bears him as its con¬ 
queror along ! “It is so,” rays Goethe, “with 
oil things that man undertakes in this world.” 
—Carlyle. [ | | __ 
A worthy Quaker thus wrote :—“ I expect to 
pass throngn this world but once. If, therefore, 
there be any kindness I can show, or any good 
thing I can do to tay fellow human being, let 
me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect It, 
for I will not pass this way again” 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. c , 
Elements ol Zoology.—By M. Ha run sox. New I) 
York: G. P. Putnam's Sous. 
It Is designed as a text-book in schools and fl 
science classea. it is confined to a description 
of the sub-kingdoms and classes of animals. 
The "higher animals are described first. The ^ 
Introduct ion is devoted to definition and olae- * 
slflcatlon ; Chapter I. to the general character 
of tho Bub-kingdoma; Chapter II. to Vertebra- ’ 
ta; Chapter HI.to Annulosa and Annuloida; 
Chapter IV. to Mollusca ami MollusOOida; *' 
Chapter V. to Ccelenterata and Protozoa. Be¬ 
sides, there Ib a Glossary* The work Is lllus- 
trated, and seems adapted to tho wants of the 
Zoological student. Such books In the hands 
of young people and In the family libraries are 
far more desirable than the trashy stories which 
obtain currency. The parents In UD-KKlihs of ^ 
American families can profitably join their b 
children In co-operative study of those sciences. B 
which might to be mastered by every one who f 
has to do with unlmalB; and the bonds of Idem v 
tloal interest in daily observation of facts that j 
will thus be strengthened, will prove most coin- p 
pensating to both parents and children. b 
Women Before the I, aw .-By JOHN PnorrATT. * 
New York : G. P. Putnam's Runs, touith 
Avenue and Twenty-third street. 
This is u concise and readable essay on the v 
legal status of woman at present, with a per- f 
splcuous hlBtory or the origin of her emanclpa- f 
tlon from barbarous slavery to her present re- e 
fined position. While it is shorn ns much as ] 
possible of technical terms and written in easy, 
flowing sty le, tho legal propositions are com- l 
prehenslvo and correct and evince careful study 
of tho subject. It, gives a clear view of thociv- 
ilizingeffect or Christianity In the treatment i 
of the weaker(S08AN 11. forgive us!) sex, and f 
dwells at considerable length upon the recent : 
liberal acts of the New York Legislature in 
relation to married women which have since 
been passed by many other States in the Union 
and will, in time, probably be adopted by all. . 
Every woman, married or single, would be ben¬ 
efited by its perusal, and none could fail to get 
from It information which could be turned to 
daily practical advantage. Tho author has suc¬ 
ceeded in making one of tho very few interest¬ 
ing and readable law books In existence. 
l>Ir. Alcott’s Nrhc.ol-Exemplifying the Princi¬ 
ples unit Methods of Moral Culture.—Boston, i 
Huberts Brother.*. i 
Wk sometimes wonder that, men and women i 
are so good as they are, when wo consider how 
they arc trained how words rather than ideas, 
facts without their relations, feelings ignored 
or perverted, selfishness deified, imagination 
decried or debased—chiefly make up t he odu- | 
cation given at. school and homo. The work 
before us details a successful attempt, at true 
cultivation, making every word represent a 
thought, teaching the scholar to analyze feel¬ 
ings, to develop and restrain Imaginat ions; to 
judge his judgment—in short., to nurture in 
harmoniousrelation all the poweraof the young 
mind. We cannot state the methods here, but 
advise every one having to do with training of 
children to road this remarkable book. An In¬ 
telligent perception and earnest application of 
tuo spirit of These teachings, all over the land, 
would be worth millions to the country, and 
be to individuals of quite incalculable benefit. 
Barns’ Phonic Short-Hand.— By ELIZA BOARD- 
m \ \ Burns, toucher of Puonography, and re¬ 
porting alUia New Vurk Mercantile Library and 
Cooper baton. -13 Park Row. N. \ .: Bums A Co. 
Wffi have had opportunity to examine many 
Phonographic works, and while our technical 
knowledge of the art may be insufficient to 
qualify us to Judge correctly, it seems to us this 
most nearly realizes our Idea of a self-instruct¬ 
ing aid In the study of this art of any we have 
seen. One thing wo arc sure of—that every 
school should teach anil every child should 
learn phonography. Whatever aid* in bringing 
. about, this result should be welcomed by every 
, one interested In education. One feature of 
! this work which we do not find in others, is 
that of plates or phonographic writing with a 
7 key thereto on a corresponding page, thus en¬ 
abling the learner to compare and analyze his 
1 or her work. 
, I Favorite Hymns, in their original form, selected 
1 and versified by W. Leonard Gage. New y ork: 
r A. s. Burn os & Co. 
1 Full of sweet associations, tolling, as they 
do, of exaltations that were rapturous in their 
time—of times of sorrow and conflict when 
Qon's peace came to the troubled soul—the 
* hymns of the church will ever bo dear to the 
Christian. In the lapse of years and the multi- 
0 plicity of edit ions, many changes and omissions 
have been made in those moat frequently in 
!> use, and the author has set himself to restore 
” the original words, in many cases adding there¬ 
by greater fullness and vigor of expression. He 
I’ has also added brief biographical notices of 
,', by mu writers which will be read with interest, 
i The book is specially beautiful in itsgettiug-up. 
_____ 
0 The Dethroned Heiress. —By Ei.IZA A. LlUPCY. 
a Philadelphia: T. lb Pelcruou a Bros. 
no new delineation of character, teaching no 
moral truth, except as sermons lie in stones, 
and having no end—a forthcoming work is to 
supply that. Yet, as hinted above, the fault 
may be ours, and the book a good one; it Is 
certainly good-looking. 
Building Construction—Brick, Stone and Slate 
Work.—By it. Scott Burn. 
Buildtnz Construction—Timber, Lead and Iron 
Work.-By It. SCOTT BURN. 
IIIIMUIli* -- -.. - - ■ 
Work.-By K. Scott burn. 
We have examined these very neat hand¬ 
books, just issued by Geo. P. Putnam’s Sons, 
Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third 8 t„ New 
York, with much interest, F.ach work consists 
of two volumes, one of text and one of plates. 
Full directions are given for construction of 
scales and drawing of plans (tho same in both 
books)—and details of construction are clearly 
outlined. They will be useful to many beside 
those actually engaged in building. 
The Poet’s Gift of Consolation tor rSorrow- 
ing Mol hern. New York: A. 8. Barnes & Co. 
A small but exceedingly handsome volume, 
filled with selections by the best authors, all 
breathing the spirit of tender regret and loving 
memory of the early lost, it will carry com¬ 
fort to many homes, made sad by death ; for it 
will revive- and deepen tho feeling that love is 
immortal, and those whose departure has left 
gaps, in our households are not lost, but gone 
before.__ 
American Racing Calendar of 1S73. New 
York City: Turf, Field and Farm. 
We have received Part First of this Calendar, 
which includes an appendix embracing entries 
for the Stakes of 1874-5; winning tables; list 
of racing colors; table of fastest time at differ¬ 
ent distances; list of thoroughbred foals of 
1873, &c„ &c. The book will interest horsemen. 
Duly Temper.— A Novel. By Mrs. C. J. NEWBY. 
Phuudelphla; T. B. Pctorsou A Bro?. 
This is the second in the series of Mrs. New¬ 
by's novels, issued by the above house. It is a 
good story', well told. 
mhtl iJojiic!). 
AN ARITHMETICAL PROBLEM. 
Wearily wo read this book, for, ft may be 
because of too much novel-reading lately, our 
power of appreciation seemed exhausted and 
tb*? Story seemed like oue made to order, giving 
There is a man whom we will call John. 
He can neither read, nor write even his own 
name, nor count money. Being so ignorant, 
you may well know he is also very poor; for a 
man who has not vim enough to gain a com¬ 
mon education cannot be expected to possess 
mind enough to provide a decent home for his 
family; so John has always moved about from 
one shanty to another. 
For over twenty-eight years John has been 
addicted to the Immoderate use of tobacco. 
His children are often hungry and always rag¬ 
ged, but one thing—foboeco—is never denied 
thorn. There is no doubt but that tin*intellect 
of each member of the family is benumbed by 
the excessive use of this injurious weed. 
“John, how much do you spend for tobacco 
in one year?" was asked of him one day. 
“Dunno," answered John ; “ 1 buy a little at 
a time, you know.” 
TIis neighbor questioned him closely with 
regard to the number of pounds used in a 
month, and the average price per pound, and 
concluded that John must have paid, on an 
average, at least £-50 annually for tobacco. 
“Wont are you doing now?” asked John, 
suspiciously, as he observed the other with 
paper and pencil In his hand. 
“ j a ni going Vo show you bow much money— 
with simple Interest at six per cent.—you have 
waited for tobacco fur the past twenty-eight 
years,” answered his neighbor. 
John asioai&btfii when the amount was 
shown him. _ ... 
“I don’t believe in figgering, any way, he 
said. “I can guess strnfehter than any man 
Ca ^Figur*-* will not lie, John,’’ replied the 
other, seriously. "I have counted everything 
at the lowest possible rate, and have made no 
reckoning of that which you expended tor to¬ 
bacco when you were first learning to use it, 
which sum, with the interest all these years, 
would doubtless amount to several hundred 
dollars besides. There is no use in deuying it. 
John ; this bad habit has robbed you of enough 
to buy a pood, comfortable home for yourself 
and family: enough to buy a good farm—as 
good a farm as mine, at least. 
“ P’r’aps what you say is true, said John, 
reluctantly. ” I s'p°se these little driblets do 
eat a feller up wonderful.” , , 
“Indeed they do; and now, John, what can 
I say or do to Induce you to break yourself of 
this habit?” ... . . , 
“What! give up my tobacco'} exclaimed 
John. “Why, man alive, it I happen to be 
without It for one half day I’m down sick—yes, 
sir, do ton nick— and that's a fact! 
“ Some physicians claim that they cao remove 
the appetite for tobacco.” returned the other. 
“If you will make the trial I will pay the doc- 
t0 “ 1 don’t want to be made so that I don’t like 
it. It’s all the comfort I take!" uud John 
walked indignantly away. 
Intelligent, sensible boys, who read the Ru¬ 
ral, I ask you. Is he not an abject slave ? Yet 
if any one should ask him to sigu Ids name 
(make his ** mark 1 ') to an antl-tobaceo pledge, 
fie woulu doubtless use the drunkards argu¬ 
ment: "I’ll notslan away my liberty.’’ 
But—I fancy I hear a number of you saying- 
many great and good men—yes, and rich men. 
too—use tobacco, as well as poor Jon.N. 1 
, acknowledge this; but, there are few among 
them who are honest hut that will confess that 
It is a bad and fo< lish habit. All must own 
the following arguments against tobacco to be 
' just: It is jmV; 11 is cm-tly f it is u*dcss. When 
used in an excessive degree it is positively m- 
1 jerious; and Isay, boys, while you are yet nu- 
* enslaved, shun it, for chls is the beet way, the 
1 right way, the only safe way. 
r Julie Reynolds Beers. 
j&tlshtft ^catling. 
“VENI SANCTA SPIRITUS.” 
Dean Stanley has contributed to Macmillan’s 
Magazine a new and remarkably true and beautiful 
translation of this world-famous Latin hymn: 
** Come, H 0 I 7 Spirit, from above. 
And from the realms of light and love 
Thine own bright rays Impart. 
Come, Fat her of the fatherless, 
Come, Giver of all happiness, 
Come. Lamp of every heart. 
“ O Thou, of comforters the best, 
O Thou, the soul’s most weloome guest. 
O Thou, oar sweet repose, 
Our resting-place from life's long oarc. 
Our shadow from the world’s fierce glare, 
Our solace In all woes. 
“ O Light divine, all light excelling. 
Fill with thyself the innocent dwelling 
Of souls sincere and lowly: 
Without Thy pure divinity. 
Nothing in all humanity. 
Nothing 1*strong or holy. 
“ Wash out each dark and sordid stain. 
Water each dry and and plain. 
Raise up tho bruised reed. 
Enkindle what, ts cold and chill, 
Relax the stiff and stubborn will, 
Guide thoso that goodness need.” 
-- 
“ HOW MUCH WAS HE WORTH 1 ” 
There is a terrible significance in tho ques¬ 
tions wo sometimes ask upon the death of a 
wealthy man, if wo only understood the real 
significance of the questions. “ How much was 
he worth?” we ask. Ami the angels might 
reply. “Worth? He wasn't worth anything. 
His money was worth something. Hi* body is 
worth something, as a source of fortuity to the 
soil. But ha wasn’t worth anything.’* So we 
vary the question : '* Yes, but how much did he 
leave?" “Oh, leave,” it might ho answered : 
“Yes, I will tell you. He had houses, lots, 
bonds, stocks, gold, notes, merchandise, farms. 
And he left—Great God! he left them all. Ho 
carried nothing with him. Naked and desti¬ 
tute came bo into the world, and as naked and 
destitute did he go the way whence bo came. 
He carried nothing: neither laud, nor money, 
nor yet did hPOMTY with him tho blessing of 
the poor, the grateful tears of an orphan, the 
benediction of tho poor. He loft all—he carried 
nothing away With him.” But his neighbor 
has died: a man who was not known on 
'Change nor in tho tax-ltst. “ And what has 
he left?” wo may, perhaps, curiously ask. 
“Left?” he has left nothing; but ho has taken 
much with him. He has gone to heaven laden 
with the blessings and the gratitude of tho 
poor, of the helpless, of the young, of the aged, 
ol' the widow, of the friendless; of those whom 
tie, by his counsels, jfnd Ills acts, and hie pray¬ 
ers, had blessed; of those whose poverty he 
had relieved, who; • ignorance he had enlight¬ 
ened, whose darkness he had dispelled, whoso 
bodies and whose souls ho had fed.” When 
Wllberforce died, Daniel O'Connell said: “He 
has gone up to heaven hearings million broken 
fetters in his hands.” Happy he, whatever he 
may leave, or not leave, on earth, who goes 
thus freighted into the other world.—Good 
T Fords. 
IDIOTS IN CHURCH. 
A clergyman was annoyed by people talking 
and giggling. He paused, looked at the dis¬ 
turbers. and said “ I am always afraid to re¬ 
prove those who misbehave, for this reason : 
Some years since, n* 1 was preaching, a young 
man who sat before me was constantly laugh¬ 
ing, talking, and making uncouth grirnaoes. I 
paused and administered a severe rebuke. Af¬ 
ter the close of the service, a gentleman said 
to mo, ‘ Bir, you have made a great mistake. 
That young man was an idiot. Since that, I 
have always been afraid to reprove those who 
misbehave themselves in church, lest I should 
repeat that mistake and reprove another 
idiot.” 
-- ■ — 
BEING ALONE. 
It is well to be in places where man is little 
and God is great—where what he sees all 
around him has the same look as It had a thou¬ 
sand yeare ago, asd will have the same, in all 
likelihood, when he has been a thousand years 
in his grave. It abates and rectifies a man, if 
be Is worth the process. It is not favorable to 
religious feeling to hear only of the actions and 
interference of men, and to behold nothing 
hut what human ingenuity has completed.— 
Sidney Sm ith. 
-♦-*-•-■ 
CHRISTIAN INTEGRITY. 
Ik these times of bankruptcy shall witness 
only a bankruptcy of wealth, and not of Chris¬ 
tian character; if there shall be no suspension 
of Christiau integrity, no failure of Christian 
uprightness, then there will be something left. 
It will only be the dross that will be purged 
away. The sterling gold will remain, and will 
come out of the furnace brighter than ever. 
■ -- 
Resolutions.— Said an old clergymen“ We 
have too many resolutions and too little action. 
‘The Arts of the Apostles' is the title of one 
j of the books of tho New Testament; their 
1 Resolutions Lave not reached us. 
