MARCH 33 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Jfcufip' lotitfolw. 
SHOWING THE BRIDAL GIFTS. 
Marian, glowing with youth and health, 
Led me up to her little room. 
Daintiest nook for a maiden fair, 
Cool and fresh as the dawn’s first bloom. 
Simple and sweet in their modest grace. 
Shone the dresses and bridal veil; 
And ’mid the few betrothal gifts 
One small diamond told the tale. 
“ He is not rich,' 1 said the maiden’s Ups, 
“ Passiug rich,’’ said the maiden's eyes ; 
*• Oh, but he lores me and 1 love him r 
Greatest miracle under the skies! 
" Small and lowly the home we choose— 
Large enough for such means as ours; 
Long we neither for gauds nor shows. 
Only for hearts' ease, birds and fiowers. 
“ These, with an exquisite picture or two— 
Walls look hungry without, you see— 
Plainest, yet fairest furnishing. 
Sunshine and love, will be ‘ home ’ for me.” 
Catherine, stately as any queen, 
Led me up to her dainty nest. 
Royal treasures the light gleamed on. 
Looking In from the golden west. 
Costly tables, all richly carved. 
Veil of point for the perfect face; 
“ Isn’t it splendid, dear?” she said, 
Coldly smiling with quiet grace. 
Flashing diamonds, rarest set. 
Pearls and opals and amethyst, 
Bracelets clinking with golden chains 
Quite too heavy for slender wrist. 
Sliver-frosted with elfin shapes. 
Fans of daintiest lashlonings; 
Silks whose delicate fibers grew 
Under the fostering care of kings. 
“ The judge is very wealthy,” I said. 
“ Very.” she answered, pale and still. 
I thought of his selfish, wizened face, 
His grizzled hair and his iron will. 
Ah! sweet Marian, richly dowered. 
Thine the wealth that my soul would crave; 
Richer thy cot than a palace brown. 
And better than loveless marriage the grave! 
[Woman's Journal. 
-- 
IN THE BOTTOM DRAWER. 
I saw my wife pull out the bottom drawer of 
the old family bureau this evening and went 
softly out and wandered up and down, until ahe 
shut it up and went to her sewing. Wo have 
some things laid away in that drawer, which 
the gold of kings could not buy, and yet they 
are relics which grieve us until both our hearts 
are sore. I haven't dared to look at them for a 
year, but 1 remember each article. 
There are two worn shoes, a little chip hat 
with part of the brim gone, and some stockings, 
pants, a coat, two or three spools, bits of broken 
crockery, a whip and several toys. Wife—poor 
thing—goes to that drawer every day of her life 
aud prays over it and lets her tears fall upon 
the precious articles, hut I dare not go ! 
Sometimes we speak of little Jack, but not 
often. It has been a long time, but somehow 
we can’t get over grieving. He was such a burst 
of sunshine into our lives that fits going away 
has been like covering our every-day existence 
with a pall. Sometimes when wo sit alone, of 
an evening, I writing and she sew log, a child on 
the street will call out, as our poor boy used to, 
and we will both stirt up with beating hearts 
and a wild hope, only to And the darkness more 
of a burden than ever. 
It is still and quiet now. I look at the win¬ 
dow where his blue eyes used to sparkle at my 
coming, but. he is uot there. I listen for his pat¬ 
tering feet, his merry shout arid his ringing 
laugh, but there is no sound. There Is no one 
to climb over my knees, no one to search my 
pockets aud tease for presents, and I never find 
the chairs turned over, the broom down or 
ropes tied to the door knobs. 
I waut some one to tease me for my knife; 
to ride on my shoulder; to lose my ax: to fol¬ 
low me to the gate when I go and be there to 
meet me when I come; to call“good night" 
from the little bed, now empty. And wife miss¬ 
es him still more; there are no little feet to 
wash; no prayers to say; no voice teaming for 
lumps of sugar or sobbing with the pain of a 
hurt toe; and she would give her own life, al¬ 
most, to awake at midnight and look across to 
the crib and see our boy there as be used to be. 
So we preserve our Telics, and when we are 
dead we hope that strangers will handle them 
tenderly, even If they shed no tears over them. 
-♦♦♦- 
WHAT TO TEACH OUR DAUGHTERS. 
Give them a good, substantial, common edu¬ 
cation. Teach them to cook a»good meal of 
victuals. Teach them to daru stockings and 
sew .on buttons. Teach them how to make 
shirts. Teach them how to make bread. Teach 
them all the mysteries of the kitchen, the din¬ 
ing room and the parlor. Teach them that the 
more one lives within hlB income the more he 
will gave. Teach them that the further one 
lives beyond his income the nearer he gets to 
the poor nouse. Teach them to wear calico 
dresses—and do It like queens, Teach them that 
a rosy romp is worth fifty delicate consump¬ 
tives. Teach them to wear thick, warm shoes. 
Teach ttaemto foot up store bills. Teach them 
that God made them in his own Image and that 
no amount of tight-lacing will improve the 
model. Teach them every day hard, practical 
common sense. Teach them self-reliance. 
Teach them that a good, steady mechanic with¬ 
out a cent, is worth a dozen oily pates in broad¬ 
cloth. 
Teach them accomplishments—music, paint¬ 
ing, drawing, etc.,—if you have the time and 
money to do It with. Teach them not to paint 
and powder. Teach them to say “No,” and 
stick to it; “ Yes," and stick to It. Teach them 
to regard the morals, not the money of their 
beaux. Teach them to attend to the essential 
requisites of useful life-truth, honesty, up¬ 
rightness—then at a suitable time to marry. 
Rely upon it, that upon your teaching depends, 
in a great measure, the weal or woe of their 
after life. 
-A-*-*- 
A LOCK OF HAIR. 
Almost every one has at least one lock of 
hair cut from the head of one now dwelling in 
that silent land whence come no messages, no 
letters, no tokens of any kind to tell of love or 
of remembrance. Every one knoWB that strange 
emotion, half-Joy, half-woe, with which the 
tiny relic of so much that was once dear can 
thrill the soul. Only now ami then do we dare 
to take It from its hiding place, hold it In the 
palm, press it to the cheek and use it as a talis¬ 
man to recall all that we must perforce forget 
in the work-a-day world for the sake of strength 
to do its battle. 
We do not know whose hair that which you 
treasure may be; whether the flossy curl from 
a baby's head, the dark lock from the brow that 
once made your breast its pillow, a parent’s 
gray tress or a young lover's sunny curl. Nor 
does it matter, for all love In Its essence, in that 
p^rtof it that outlives death, is alike and equal¬ 
ly pure, but we know that there is nothiuglike 
it to you anywhere. There.are no words lor the 
thoughts it brings. They mock language. As 
you touch it aud gaze at it, you have nothing to 
say. You feel the thorns of your dead rose, 
that is all, and the wounds they make bleed. 
-♦-*"*- 
PURE GIRLS AND IMPURE BOYS. 
Girls, in treating dissipated young men as 
equals, do a wrong they can scarcely realize. 
Such men should be made to feel that until they 
walk with correctness and honor In the paths 
of right, good people stand aloof from them. 
Girls who respect themselves will not bo seen 
with such men, and will decline to receive 
them on the familiar footing of friendship, it 
Is a mistaken kindness to poultice when caus¬ 
tic Is needed, and I am inclined to think that a 
little sharp decision ou tho part of the girls of 
to-day would go far to correct the general loose¬ 
ness of morality among young men.— Woman’s 
Journal. 
a ♦ »- 
A STRING OF PEARLS. 
Fortune dreads the brave, and is only terri¬ 
ble to the coward. 
Love reposes in the bosom of a pure soul as 
a drop of dew in the cup of a flower. 
Take care to be an economist in prosperity; 
there Is no tear of your being one in adversity. 
Teach children to love everything that is 
beautiful, and you will teach them to be useful 
and good. 
There Is nothing more allied to the barbar¬ 
ous and savage character than .sulleuness, con¬ 
cealment and reserve. 
The greatest friend of truth is time ; her 
greatest enemy is prejudice; and her constant 
companion is humility. 
The slightest excess of expenses over income 
Is poverty, and the slightest excess of income 
over expenses is wealth. 
“A handsome woman pleases the eye —a 
good woman pleases the heart. The one Is a 
jewel—the other a treasure.” 
Distrust Is the death of the soul, belief is Its 
life. The just shall live by faith. Infidelity is 
the abandonment of life; suicide of the spirit. 
Do not be content with well-doing, for It Is 
only by constant striving to excel every pre¬ 
vious effort that men ever arrive at great euds. 
We are usually capable of greater things than 
we perform; we are sent into the-world with 
bills of credit and seldom draw to tbelr full ex¬ 
tent. 
Looking to others for our standard of happi¬ 
ness is the sure way to be miserable. Our busi¬ 
ness Is with our own heart and our own mo¬ 
tives. 
“ They who know the truth," says Confucius, 
“are not equal to those who revere it, and they 
who revere It are not equal to those who find 
pleasure in it." 
Discrimination Is as necessary in charity as 
In everything else, and Indiscrimination in 
charity is in many respects more dangerous 
than in anything else. 
Everybody's friend is no one’s. Jealousy Is 
almost a« much allied to friendship as to love, 
aud it Is more natural to see friends in pairs , 
than In trails or in scores. 
Knowledge may slumber in the memory, but l 
it never dies; it la like the dormouse in the ’ 
Ivied tower that sleeps while winter lasts, but i 
awakes with the warm breath of spring. ] 
Bending for thq jgotmg. 
AN ANGEL OF CHARITY. 
[See Illustration on page 177.] 
Up and down the village'Btreet, 
Though the cold winds blow, 
Comes a kind and comely maiden. 
Dancing through the snow. 
OU ! a winsome one is she. 
Fair as any pear); 
Dearest one of sisters three 
Is that little girl. 
What cares she for wind or storm, 
Or the blasts that blow ? 
Lightly o’er the frozen drifts. 
Onward will she go. 
vvhat. cares she though some rude boys 
Pelt her In their fun ? 
Though the snowballs hit lior hard, 
She doesn't scold or run. 
Every little hungry child 
Knows the dear one's face; 
Every little grateful heart 
Hus for her a place. 
Do you ask ttie darling’s name 7 
Justus If I’d tell! 
Every boy and girl in town 
Ought to know her well! 
Ought to know and love the maid 
Who, with ready hand. 
Scatters blessings to tho poor . 
Up and dowu the land. 
Still you want to know her name, 
Ah t then—let me see— 
Until you can know her well. 
Call her Charity. 
HOW JOHNNY WENT TO SLEEP, 
BY MARY L. BOLLES BRANCH. 
Johnny ought, to havo been fast asleep by 
half-past six-fast, asleep and all covered up 
warm, with his clear little rosebud face nestled 
down in the white pillow. But Instead of that, 
here It was eight o’clock, and his eyes were 
wide open and bright, as stars; ids cheeks were 
deop pink, and he kept popping up out of the 
bedclothes like Jack-in-the-box. 
His mamma thought to herself, “ What lit the 
world shall Ido?” And then she said aioud, 
"Johnny, don't you want to lie very still aud 
hear mo tell astory V" 
The brown head bobbed down on the pillow 
and Johnny said promptly, “ Yes, 'bout a mon¬ 
key." 
"A monkey and an organ?” asked mamma, 
rapidly laying her plot, 
“ Ves," said Johnny, curling down content-, 
edly in bed, und mamma began ; 
“ Once there was a man, and ho had an organ 
all covered with green cloth and a monkey with 
a little red coat aud a blue hat. And in the 
morning the man took the organ on one shoul¬ 
der aud the monkey on the other, and went 
along the street till he came to Lucy Hoyt's 
house, and Lucy was sitting out on the door¬ 
step playing with her dolly. Then the man 
went into the yard and began to play on hla 
organ. “Ting-a-ling-ling! Tlng-a-IIng-lingt” 
putting the monkey down on the ground at, the 
same time. And what do you think the mon¬ 
key did ? He wont right up to Lucy and snatch¬ 
ed the dolly out of her hands and ran off with 
it. ‘O, that naughty monkey I' cried Lucy. 
1 he's carried off my dolly !' Arid she chased the 
monkey as fast as she could, but he ran along 
the top of the fence and sprang up Into a high 
tree with the dolly In nis anus. And Lucy 
began to cry. Then the man said, ‘ Haven't, you 
got another dolly?’ Lucy said, ‘ Yes, I’ve got 
another In the house.’ Then the man said, ‘ Go 
and get It.* So Lucy went into the house and 
took a dolly out of her bureau drawer and 
brought It out In the yard. Then the man said, 
‘Now drop tlffc dolly on the ground.' So Lucy 
dropped the dolly on the ground, and when the 
monkey saw her drop it on the ground he 
thought that was the right way to play with 
dollies, so ho dropped the one be had on the 
ground too, and Lucy ran quick and picked up 
both the dollies ? Then she went straight Into 
the house and put the dollies away tu the bu¬ 
reau drawer and shut it up tight, and then she 
went back to see what the monkey would do. 
The monkey came down out of the tree and 
when he saw the dollies were gone he took off 
his hat and made n very low bow to Lucy and 
then he began to dance a.jig, while the man 
kept playing on the organ, ‘ Tlng-a-ling-lingl 
Ting-a-llng-Iing!’ 
“ Lucy ran and called her mother and said, 
‘0, mamma, see the monkey danceThen the 
monkey took his hat and passed it up to them 
for pennies. 8o Lucy put In one penny and her 
mamma put in one penny, and then the monkey 
carried the hat to the man and the man took 
tho pennies and put them in his own pocket. 
Is that a nice story, Johnny ?’’ 
" Yes," said Johnny, winking his blue eyes 
very fast, “ more about the monkey and the 
organ 1” 
“Well, then, the man took the monkey and 
the organ upon his shoulders agaln&nd went up 
the street and up the street, with all the little 
boys and girls following after him, till he came 
where Paul and Jay live. Then he stopped 
and . began to play on his orgau ‘ Ting-a-ling- 
ling! Ting-a-ling-ling!’ and Paul and Jay 1 
came running out to see the monkey. And 
what do you think the monkey did ? He jump¬ 
ed right up on little Jay’s back and pulled his 
hairl And Jay screamed out, ‘ Mamma, mam¬ 
ma! take the monkey off my back !* So Jay’S 
mamma ran out and pulled the monkey off and 
set him on the ground and boxed his ears. That 
frightened the monkey so that he climbed up 
Into a tree. It was an apple tree, and there 
was a great, nice apple on It that the monkey 
thought he would pick and eat. But when he 
bit, a piece out of It he found It was sour and 
he did aot like sour apples, so he threw it down 
right on Paul's head. PAUL Jumped and cried 
out, *0, that bad monkey has hit me on the 
head !’ 
** But when he looked and saw it was an apple 
the monkey threw at him, he didn't say any 
more; lie picked It up to eat himself. Hedldn't 
cure if it was sour, lie liked It all the better. 
Then the monkey came down out of the tree, 
and danced a jig for Paul and Jay, while the 
man kopt ou playing ‘Ting-a-ling-Uog! Tlng- 
a-ling-lingl* And then ho took off his hat and 
made a very low bow to Paul and held the hat 
out for pennies. But Paul did not know what 
he meant, so ho said, ‘What Is he holding his 
hat out for, mamma?’ 
“ ‘For a penny,'replied bis mamma; ‘have¬ 
n't you a ponny to give him?’ 
“ ‘Yes, In my bank,' said Paul, as he ran Into 
t he house to get tils bank, and ho shook It and 
shook it, till he shook out two pennies, one for 
him and one for J ay. Then they put tho pen¬ 
nies into the monkey’s blue hat and the mon¬ 
key carried the hat to the man, and the man 
put the pennies In his own pocket. Is that a 
good story', Johnny ?’ 
“ More!” murmured Johnny so drowsily that 
mamma could but. just, hear him. So she went 
on“ Then the man took up the organ and the 
monkey affain, and went down the street aud 
down the street, with all the little boys and 
girls after him till he name to Maggie Martin’s 
house, and Maggie's white kitty lay neleop ^n 
the porob. Then the man set down the organ 
and began to play * Ting-a-ling-ling ! Tlng-a- 
ling-ling!' and the monkey Jumped to the 
ground, and what do you think he did ? He ran 
right up to that white kit By and pulled her ears. 
And tho kitty didn’t like It one bit; her eyes 
snapped and she *niil ‘ miaow—miaow/' Then 
Magoie eumo running out to tho door, and— 
and— Johnny !” 
No answer. Johnny was fast asleep—dear 
little boy 1 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 4. 
Answer in two weeks. j. 
•-A-*-*- 
MYTHOLOGICAL ENIGMA.—No. 1. 
I AM composed of 51 letters : 
My 17, 21, JO, 38, 21, 6 was one of the Applades. 
My 8, 2, 10,19,18,11 was one of the sea deities. 
My 9, 3, 4,15,17, 25, 5,31, 42 was one of the Ten 
Sybils. 
My 1, 2l, 20, 22, 44, 12, 6 was one of the Argo¬ 
nauts. 
My 48, 4, 20, 24, 7, 29, 21 was one of the Hes- 
perides. 
My 11, 4, 34, 43, 39,51, 6 one of the Cyclops. 
My 13, 35, 47, 46, 49 a Trojan spy who was put to 
death by Diomede. 
My 10,38,23, 3,14 the Roman goddess of honesty 
My 36, 27, 4, 4, 40, 21 a daughter of Cinyvas, King 
of Cyprus. 
My 45, 12, 31, 50,21, 22 son of Juno. 
My 32, 21,12, 41, 46 a woman who gave a drink 
to Ceres. 
My 28, 34, 23, 3, 22 an Angto-Saxon dlv^fclty. 
My 11, 21, 30, 13,37,18, 22 an Eastern emperor. 
My whole ts a quotation from the Koran. 
SW~ Answer In two weeks. Little One. 
«♦»- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Feb. 27. 
Problem No. 5. — Construction. Draw the 
straight line AB, 8 rods In length. Bisect it in 
O, and draw CO and DO perpendicular to AB, 
each 4 rods in length. Join AD, DU, BC and 
CA, forming the square ADBC, whleh will con¬ 
tain an area of 32 square rod*, or 1-5 of an acre. 
Produce AD, DB, BC and CA, arnj make DE 
equal to AB. BF to HD, CG to CB, and AH to 
AC. Join KF, FG, GH and HE, forming the 
square EFGII, which will contain Just an aore. 
Demonstration :—Produce the linen FD, GO, 
HO and ISA, and they will meet the.sides of the 
square EFGu in their middle points, I, K, L 
aud M, respectively: It will then be at once 
manifest that the turn of the areas of l he trape¬ 
zoid BDEK, and the right-angled triangle IDE, 
will be equal to ttie area of the square ADBC. 
As there are four similar ami equal trapezoids 
and four similar and equal triangles contained 
in the square HEFG, its area must b« equal to 
five times the area of the central square ADBC, 
or to one acre. 
Geographical Enigma No. 2.—“ Can a man 
take fire in hla bosom and his clothes not be 
burned ?” 
Hidden Fishes No. l.-l, Anchovy. 2, Her¬ 
ring. 3, Clam. 4, Cod. 6, Carp. 6, Haddock. 
7, Mackerel. 8, Halibut. 9, Perch. 10, Shrimp 
