piece entitled, “Will the New Year Come To¬ 
night, Mamma?’' If you could got it, would 
you please print It? I am a little girl ten years 
old, and I have attended school all but two 
days this term. This la the first time that I 
have attempted to write for a paper.—L ydia 
M„ Spring Hill, Kanaci*. 
stories, bits of poetry sunny and saucy, some of 
which have been set to music, and the projec¬ 
tion of a novel, occupied and interested him. 
To the readers of the Rural New-Yorker his 
pen is no stranger, and In many of his stories 
you find Ids buoyancy, bis overflowing sunni¬ 
ness, the quick appreciation of humor, and that 
full, almost riotous sense of life that paiu and 
suffering could not dim or dishearten. 
The eud came on slowly. Each year left him 
weaker, but still hopeful. Last summer found 
him In his garden with his beloved flowers, 
dividing his little strength botwoeu them and 
bis pen, for his active mind shrunk from com¬ 
plete idleness. At Autumn he made his home 
bright with these children of hislove. A month 
before his death, while bis wife was writing to 
a friend, lie said, “ Tell her about my flowers, 
my beautiful white azalea in bloom, the helio¬ 
trope, the roses and geranium. We are all hem¬ 
med in by snow, but it is a perfect gaiden for 
all that." 
The occasional hemorrhages had worn him 
fearfully, until at last, wife and mother watch¬ 
ing him could but admit In their sad hearts 
that life was held on the frailest of terms. Yet 
amid extreme suffering his humor would crop 
out now and then, and Ills cheerfulness wont 
with him to the last, even the sad Sunday when 
lie asked bravely for the limit of his stay on 
earth, and employed it In sending loving mes¬ 
sages to friends and comforting the heart¬ 
broken ones beside him. Then he fell peace¬ 
fully asleep, trusting to go on with abetter and 
richer life In the other country. 
And so closes tho record of thirty-two years 
fuil of promise, but bound in and fettered on 
every side. What bights he might have reach¬ 
ed If his health had matched his energy and 
the attainment of a fuller maturity had been 
bis, cannot be told; but thoro is a wide circle 
of loving friends in which ho will be sorely and 
sadly missed. To God alone belongs th* mys¬ 
tery and explanation why earnest and useful 
lives should bo hindered in their development 
and ended in the dawn of fruition, while others, 
of so roach less service apparently, are left to 
cumber the ground. Hut in that other country, 
whore all tilings are mado clear to tho vision, 
we shall understand tiie many tangles and puz¬ 
zles of tills life. 
Mr. Gum.mku.mon leaves a wife and two little 
boys, who will miss much tender care and solic¬ 
itude, though they are too young to realize all 
they have Inst in losing him. And thus we say 
Farewell to a brave, ambitious soul whoso sun 
has gone down ere noon. 
OUR BABY 
LEARN TO KEEP HOUSE 
[Skk Illustration on page 225,] 
Beautiful maidens—aye nature’s fair queens. 
Some in your t wenties, and some in your teens, 
Seeking accomplishments worthy your aim. 
Striving for learning, thirsting for fame; 
Taking such pains with the style of your hair, 
Keeping your lily complexions so fair; 
Miss not this item In all yonr gay lives, 
Bearn to keep house, you may one day be wives 
Learn to keep house. 
From sin Ohio Cirl. 
Dear Rural : This is my first letter. We 
take the Rural, although wo do not live in the 
country. 1 enjoy reading the letters from the 
boys and girls very much. I am fifteen years 
old and go to school nine months in the year, 
and havo to study in the evenings, for I am try¬ 
ing to graduate In tho spring. 1 do not get 
much lime to read, but I always find leisure to 
read the letters from the young folks. 1 have 
been corresponding for several year: with a 
girl who wrote to tho Rural and gavo her ad¬ 
dress, as I wish some of tho other cousins 
would. I think she is a splendid correspond¬ 
ent. Please receive mo as a cousin. If tlds is 
not published, I shall know it was not worthy 
and will endeavor to do bettor. I wish some 
boys arid girls would write every week, for I 
know there aro more than one disappointed 
when there are no letters. May, Findlay, 0. 
Do you see our baby, 
Bitting in his chair? 
Many funny tricks 
Ue plays when there, 
Darling little baby. 
Oh, so full of fun, 
Very soon we hope 
Tnat he’ll begin to run 
Now your Adonis loves sweet moonlight walks. 
Hand clasps, and kisses, and nice Utile talks. 
Then, ns plain Charlie, with burden of care, 
He must subsist on more nourishing fare ; 
Tie'll come home at the set of the sun, 
Heart-sick and weary, his working dny done, 
Thence let his slippered feet ne’er wish to roam 
Learn to keep house that you may keep home. 
Learn to keep house. 
Now sister Rose and I 
Must hold each tiny hand 
For our darling baby 
Cannot safely stand. 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS 
From a Connecticut Qlrl. 
Mr. Editor:— I thought l would write a let¬ 
ter to the boya and girls. We have taken the 
Rural for about six years, and we like it very 
much. I am a little girl ton years old. 1 live 
on a farm and Uko it better than in the city. 
Here we can have chickens, cows aud horses, 
and alt the fruit we want. What has become 
of Dkw Drop? I have not, seen any of her 
letters for a long time; I hope she will write 
again. Next summer I am going to have a 
piece of ground for tv garden. I shall put flow- 
era on one side and a few watermelons and 
muskmolons on the other. I have got two sis¬ 
ters and four brothers. My two oldest brothers 
work on the farm and my father works In the 
hat shop. Last year my brothers raised ten 
tons of carrots to the acre; some of them were 
so large they weighed from 3 to I pounds each 
aud were about 32 inches In length. My oldest 
sister is a music teacher aud I take lessons of 
her. 1 am not fond of practicing and Ma has to 
scold me sometimes, and 1 am not sorry that 
she has. My brother Elgin, who Is but 17 years 
old, plays on the violin ; he has played for most 
of tho parties around here this winter. As this 
is my llrst letter, I will close by giving my ad¬ 
dress— Jbnn in L. A., Danbury , Conn. 
First in his eyes will be children aud wife, 
Joy of his Joy and life of his life. 
Next to his bright dwelling his table, his meals, 
Shrink not at what tny pon trembling reveals. 
Ma’dens romantic, tho truth must bo told, 
Knowledge ts better than silver and gold ; 
Then be prepared in the spring-time of health, 
Learn to keep bouse ibo’ surrounded by wealth 
Learn to keep house. 
From a New Jersey Boy. 
Dear Editor:— I have road the boys’ and 
girls’ letters, and wished very much lo join 
your pleasant circle of cousins. I have written 
once before and did not aee It published, so I 
thought 1 would try again, and if this is not 
printed I am afraid I will bo discouraged. 1 
saw a letter In the Rural a short time ago 
from one of the cousins who wished all who 
would to write to him; it was Young Natu¬ 
ralist. Let him write to me first If lie desires 
me to write to him. Hoping you will print 
this, I remain yours— Frank (J. S., Ironia, Mor¬ 
ris Co., N. J. 
THE LATE DE FORREST P. GUMMERSON 
BY AMANDA M. DOUGLAS 
Died, at Berkshire, N. Y., on Rnnday, March 
7th, DkForrest P. Gummekson, aged thirty- 
two years. 
"The earth is full of farewells to the dying,” 
sang the poet. One and another drop out of 
the great procession aud a grassy mound Is 
raised by the wayside; a few watchers sit by it 
in shadowy twilight, some tender hands plant 
(lowers, some dear friends have a vacant niche 
In their hearts forevermore; hut the crowd 
surges on. The world cannot stop for sorrow 
nor tears ; a hurrying and relentless fate Is say¬ 
ing, “ What is that to thee V Follow thou mo." 
And yot to those who knew and loved the 
subject of this brief sketch, there la more than 
sorrow—a regret that so promising a life should 
not have opportunity to achieve Bomo of its 
ambitions. Possessing great energy, extreme 
buoyancy of temperament, vivacity and versa¬ 
tility of talent, he was not one who would wil¬ 
lingly have plodded along bouton tracks, but 
who longed to strike out new paths for himself. 
Born at North Orange, N. J., Mr. Gummek- 
SON’S boyhood was passed in that vicinity and 
Newark where lie made himself hostB of friends. 
Possessing much adapt! veuess, wonderful pow¬ 
ers of mimicry and ready comprehension, he 
became a great favorite with some theatrical 
parties, and was for awhile connected with tho 
stage. His brightness and quick sense of fun 
fitted him admirably for the sparkling parts of 
comedy, and that peculiar blending of drollery 
and pathos. Hut for the sake of a dear friend 
lie loft the perils and fascinations of the stage 
and settling In Brooklyn turned his attention 
to the more substantial side of business and bid 
fair to be successful. Still bis heart yearned 
toward Intellectual pursuits, He tried his hand 
at newspaper sketching, and resolved to make 
his gift of elocution of some avail. His flexible 
voice, expressive and mobile face, liis ready 
appreciation of character and his remarkable 
imitation of tho Irish brogue, made him most 
entertaining at recitation, as those who have 
hoard his “ Paddy, the Piper,*’ Hood’s “ Lost 
Heir," and “ Sbatnus O'Brien,” can testify. In- 
doed, a newspaper critic once said of him; 
“Mr. Gummerson is, we believe, an Irishman 
by birth, which accounts for the Inimitable 
drollery and richness of his voice and accent, 
aud the readiness of his wit." 
He bad read a few times very acceptably in 
public, when he was called to pass through a 
severe bereavement. Up to this period he had 
been the embodiment of health, with all the 
rosiness and eager Impetuosity of young man¬ 
hood ; but a severe cold, resulting In a danger¬ 
ous hemorrhage, brought him near to death. 
For several months life trembled In the bal¬ 
ance, but It seemed as If his energy and desire 
to live at last thrust disease in the background. 
But It was the beginning of six weary years of 
alternate hope and discouragement—of much 
suffering andfluch remarkable cheerfulness and 
vitality that his dearest friends were led to hope 
against hope. For the sake of all that life cuuld 
be to him, he determined to recover. At twen¬ 
ty-eight, with so many avenues of ambition and 
enjoyment open to him, he bad no disposition 
to sit down and sigh for the rest and quiet of 
the grave. But his favorite aim of distingiush- 
lng himself as an elocutionist had to be given 
up. By the doctor ho was forbidden to try his 
voice In any larger place than a private parlor, 
and that but rarely. To him this was a severe 
blow Indeed. It then became evident that 
Brooklyn could no longer afford him a safe res¬ 
idence, and he retired to a country home in 
Berkshire, N. Y„ where his wife formerly lived. 
To so active a temperament the cessation of 
business, the lack of the stir and bustle of great 
cities, w’as Indeed a trial. Yet he made himself 
comparatively happy by hislove and enjoyment 
of Nature, and of the delightful rides and walks 
In one of the most beautiful portions of the 
State, and the cultivation of flowers, for which 
he had an.extravagant fondness. He renewed 
his gift of sketching. Short tales, children’s 
From a Michigan School-Boy. 
Dear Rural:— My father takes your valua¬ 
ble paper, and wo nil like it. very much. I am 
eleven years old. My father is a farmer. Wo 
live 14 miles from a railroad. I go to school 
every day ; wo have eight months* schooling a 
year. 1 havo two slaters and ono brother. I 
think this will bo long enough for my first let¬ 
ter. If you see lit to publish this, perhaps I 
will try again.—II mnhv O. It., Tuscola Co., Mich. 
From a Central New York Boy. 
Dear Mr. Editor:—I am a little boy nine 
years old and live on a farm about a mile from 
Oneida. I havo bcou to school this winter and 
studied arithmetic, geography, reading and 
spelling. I learn to write at home ; Mama sets 
my copies. It is vacation now. The teachor 
was a lady; I liked her very much. I havo a 
brother a year and a half older than t. We 
study the same kind of books, aud sometimes 
people think wo aro twins, boouuse wo are so 
near of asize. Tlds makes tho fifth year Mamma 
has taken the Rural, ami we boys try to aee 
which will get it first to road. My little brother 
Harvey Is four years old, and a little sick boy. 
He knows all Ids Jotters, anil thinks he caunut 
go to sleep without the Rural. Eddie aud I 
are going to work In the garden when tho 
weather becomes warm enough. We have had 
a very cold winter, but havo boon to Sunday- 
school nearly every Sunday. I think 1 will ven¬ 
ture to toil the answer to Rebus No. 4 of March 
13. It Is “ Woodman, Spare that Tree." I 
would be* pleased to seo this in print, as it is 
the first letter I ever wrote to the Rural.— 
Jerry T. D., Oneida , A r . Y. 
ILLUSTRATED KEBUS.-No. 5 
BY MAY MAPLE 
“ Your mother has come to spend the season 
with you, I understand; what pleasure her 
presence must give you,” said I to an acquaint¬ 
ance 1 chanced to meet at the house of a mu¬ 
tual friend. 
“Yea, mother came to us several days ago; 
butt do not expect to derive much pleasure 
from her society. She is an invalid and almost 
helpless, and lias been so for several years. So 
her presence will be likely to prove a burden 
rather than pleasure." 
I confess I was shocked at the heartless an¬ 
swer and gazed into the face of the speaker, 
wondering if she was In her right mind, until I 
was convinced of her sanity. The words were 
not uttered from mere thoughtlessness; and 
yet, looking at those finely-cut features and 
that delicate form, l could never have believod 
those lips could have given utterance to such 
heartless words. Every lineament, every ges¬ 
ture, the very tones of her voice, told of the 
loving, self-sacrificing mother, who had years 
ago tolled and borne heavy burdens, that the 
pet and darling daughter might have the cul¬ 
ture of the lady “to tho manor burn." Her del¬ 
icate form must riot lie bowed with over-work; 
her hands must not assist in the labors of the 
household, for that would make them large, 
brown and rough. Helen must wear the finest 
cambric and softest merino. Mother loved to 
seo her daunhter beautiful, bright and happy. 
She would shelter her from rough winds and 
driving tempests, so long as her kind, strong 
hands could hover about her treasure. It was 
never burdensome to attend to her wants when 
fever scorched and racking pain tortured, night 
and day, for weeks, months or years. Mother 
could and would do It when all others failed, 
and without complaint. 
And now how w as she rewarded ? When those 
toil-hardened hands became palsied and failed 
to perform their allotted tasks—when the eyes 
became dim, the tongue garrulous, and the 
weary feet refused to carry about the worn and 
emaciated form—when tho Infancy of old age 
was upon her and she needed the t.enderest care 
of loving hands—then It was that her only 
daughter declared the aged and Infirm mother 
a burden. 
Oh, Ingratltudo, thou art a monster! Could 
that daughter look down the long vista of years 
and Bee herself in her mother's present situa¬ 
tion, treated with harsh words and Irownlng 
brow by ono who owed life and aJI the actual 
pleasures of her existence to her own kind care, 
would she not recoil from the sight? Would 
she not deatre to be loved In old age? Who 
does not hope to be cherished as something 
better than gold and precious stones, as she 
treads the down-hill path of life, waiting the 
call of the Master to come to the home where 
helplessness and old age aro unknown ? 
CSCOMBffi.j 
YYT Answer in two weeks 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA,—No. 5 
I am composed of 62 letters : 
My 7,18,41, 44, 53, 37 an insect. 
My 58,11, 2, 23, 43, 51 a bird. 
My 56, 44, 10, 59, 62, 20 a flower. 
My 42, 0, 24, 43, 30, 48 a vehicle. 
My 45, 55, 83, II, 47, 37 a resin. 
My 46, 15,14, 40, 33, 50 a tree. 
My 8, 6,30, 25, SI, 10 a waterfowl. 
My 22,10, 11, 40, 34 a number. 
My 1,13,12,7, 19,5 a wind. 
My 35, 60,11,32, 54, 40 a quadruped. 
My 38, 30, 27, I, 51, 61 a basket. 
My 9, 20, 54,11, 57, 3 a bent grass. 
My 28,10,17, 4. 62, 11 a weight. 
My 52, 50,11, 00, 3, 30 a ruler. 
My whole is a poetical quotation. 
t3T~ Answer In two weeks. Fairplay. 
From a Pennsylvania School Girl. 
Dear Friend I am nine years old and live 
on a farm In a big house. I have four brothers 
aud one is a baby brother; he laughs all day 
long. I go to school every day and have a good 
teacher. At noon I go sliding down hill. My 
oouslu has a board, ami lie lets me havo tils 
board to slide down hill. It la big enough for 
three to get on. Sometimes It turns around 
and we go down backward and get hurt, but it 
is not very often that we ory; and when the 
school-bell rings we run to school and study. I 
read in the Fourth Reader. Seeing my letter is 
getting pretty long 1 will close.— Minnie S. S. 
Warren Co., l‘a. 
Questions Answered and Asked. 
Mr. Editor I often read In your paper let¬ 
ters from boys, and I thought that I would try 
and answer those questions about snow birds 
and flies as near as I could and as I can find 
out. The snow birds go North In the summer, 
and tho tiles hatch out of eggs that are laid by 
other fllos. Please ask California Girl bow big 
the watermelons grow and which la the best 
seed to plant, and I will try to answer any ques¬ 
tion she may ask. Please excuse my mistakes. 
—Hubert. 
HIDDEN ANIMALS.—No. 2 
1. Wk had been expecting Lionel a longtime. 
2. At last he came, looking very tired. 
3. But the spirits of camphor seemed to re¬ 
vive him. 
4. He is a graduate of Oxford University. 
5. Alberti, Gertrude and Florence called last 
evening. 
6. Martha and Catharine promised to come 
soon. 
7. You really need a new dish-pan, Theresa. 
8. And yet, 1 would rather save tiie money. 
9. Mabel kindly lent me her algebra. 
t?g r * Answer In two weeks. s. e. 
From a Young Agent of the Rural. 
Dear Editor:—As you wished in last week’s 
paper that all agents would seud their ages 
etc., I Suclose mine. I am a boy about twelve 
aud a half years old. I have been going to 
school, and it has just stopped. I got up a club 
of 10 subscribers for the Rural, aud I could 
have obtained more if l had not been going to 
school. We like it very much, and so do all 
the subscribers.—E dward A. Pennock, Chestir 
Co., ra. 
From a Kansas Girl. 
Dear Rural:— As I have read many interest¬ 
ing letters in your columns, I thought I would 
try my luck. Do you know where I could get a 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Marcli 20 
Hidden Animals No. 1.1, Ape. 2, Dog. 3, 
Hare. 4, Zebra. 5, Goat. 6, Bear. 7, Jackal. 
ALGEHRAIC rBOSLKM No. I.—A, $17.50; B, 
|51.50 ; C, *29.50; D, *67.50. 
Word-Square Enigma No. 1.— 
truth 
ROMEO 
umber 
TBLB8 
HORSE 
P. T. Reed, Gardiner, Me., sends us a solu¬ 
tion to Problem No. 3, which makes two men 
and five boys the number required. We thank 
him for the correction. 
