MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
JUNE 10 
JTadiqs' |oi[tfoIw. 
DAMSEL DOROTHY. 
OH I Damsel Dorothy—Dorothy Q ! 
Strange Is the gift that I owe to you— 
Such a gift as never a king 
Save to daughter or son might bring— 
All my tenure of heart and hand; 
All my tirlo to bouse amt land: 
Mother and sister and child and wife, 
Anil Joy and sorrow and death and life ! 
That if a hundred years u;o 
Those close-shut lips had answered No, 
When forth the tremulous question came 
That cost the maldeu her Norman name, 
And under the fold* that took so still 
The bodice swelled with the bosom's thrill, 
Where should I be ? Or would it be 
One-tenth another, or nine-tenths me? 
Soft Is the breath of a maiden** Yes— 
Not the light gossamer stirs the less— 
But never a cable that hold* so fast 
Through all the battles of war and blast, 
And never an echo of speech and song 
That live < In the babbling air so long! 
There wore tones In the votes that whispered then 
You may hear to-day In an hundred men. 
Oh, lady and lover, how faint and far 
Your Images hover! And hero we are, 
Solid nnd stlrrlDg In flesh and bone— 
Edwards and Dorothy*—all their own : 
A goodly record for time, to show 
Of a syllable spoken so long ago t 
Shall 1 bloss you, Dorothy, or forgive 
For the tender whispers that bade me live ? 
-- 
THE GRAVE OF BARON ALEXANDER 
VON HUMBOLDT. 
A slight sketch of tbo crave of this, the 
greatest of German Naturalists—the most dis¬ 
tinguished savant of the 19th Century—the man 
who know all sciences and yet loved flowers 
more than all, may not prove uninteresting to 
the readers of the Rural New-Yorker. 
We had been nearly three weeks in Berlin, at 
a siuiplo German hotel where wo had received 
the kindest attention Trom the quiet hotel¬ 
keeper and his brisk little wife. The drive from 
Berlin to the burial placo, as well as the birth¬ 
place of Humboldt, is about six miles, and aa 
our carrlace was a roomy one we Invited our 
host and hostess to accompany us and they 
thankfully accepted—and that man alio ved us, 
two ladies, to pav toll two or throe times for 
our carriage. We drove over a smooth, well- 
kept road, aa all roads are that are kept by tho 
Government, lined with trees, through li lie 
villages—nut looking llko New England villages 
charming, sweet and peaceful, with the breath 
of grasses and flowers everywhere, but villages 
with half-tumbling down housas, pigsnnd goats 
In the street, haggod children always carrying 
pitchers of beer In their little hands, with a 
disagreeable smell of garlic and all kinds of 
gases everywhere. And here let me add, I have 
never soon the village Just mentioned outside 
of New England though 1 have seen the ivy of 
Ireland, the hedges of England, the poppies of 
France, the dykes of Holland, tho snows of 
Switzerland, and the vlood hills or Italy—but 
everywhere tho contrast was so great that J 
looked back upon them as a boautlful picture 
without fault and without blemish. 
A drive of little over an hour brought us t< 
the stopping place, which was a beer garden 
Surely, thought I, here Is not where they hav 
laid him, though 1 am not sure to the mind o 
a German, they could have done him create 
honor. But no, there was a beer garden hero 
because there Is one everywhere In German' 
whereby any possibility a dozen people ruigh 
moel through the day. We want through th( 
garden following a path that skirted round .• 
wooded hill, then oyer it, round rocks, ovei 
foot bridges—all as sweet and still and lovelj 
ns It could bc-then down Into a valley of flftj 
acres perhaps, entirely surrounded and con 
cealed by tall trees, With the exception of on< 
vista through which we could see the hnust 
where Humboldt was born, and directly oppo- 
site this vista we saw a tall, white marble ehafl 
that told us where he was burled. And ther< 
lie found the remains of him whom we bail 
been seeking, sleeping under the flowers ht 
loved so well, with grasses waving around blot 
birds singing and the blue sky o\ er all. 1 couid 
have knelt In thankfulness, that for once we 
had found ono of the great meu of Europe; not 
burled In tombs, churches or chapels —cold, 
gloomy and somber, speaking only of death and 
of no resurrection beyond t bo grave -but they 
gave him to this .Mother, who receives all in hoi 
bosom when our places hern are filled. Oh I 
how sunny and bright It was 1 How the birds 
trilled for very’ pride I How the ivy grew In 
and out, thick and glossy, entirely covering the 
iron fence surrounding tho inclosure! It was 
grand In its simplicity and bright with the sun¬ 
shine of Heaven. His mothor and near rela¬ 
tives are buried here, and their names inscribed 
on this marble shaft. 
Prom there we visited the house where he 
was born; but I must not weary you. My Gor¬ 
man host, enjoyed It all, showing a great amount 
or reverence and enthusiasm. He plucked a bit 
™ I, ,from the grave, wondered If ho bad 
rnnu? d i lere J 0rsatther,J ’ 1111 hia ^utiment as- 
turni 6 , and • ie Ughted me. As we were re- 
turnlng, he aaked his wife If Humboldt discov¬ 
ered America, Sunshine, 
IN DEFENSE. 
1 have been hoping some one would reply to 
the article by “ J. I’.” on “ Woman’s Rights and 
Wrongs" In the Rural of April SI, for viewed 
even with impartial eyes it Is mainly a scathing 
criticism on “ our sex." While acknowledging 
the ableness of the article J beg leave to differ 
with the writer upon several points. First, that 
the word ** law" should be applied to the custom 
of extreme dress. Why nut syy as well, “ It is 
the law that every child shall have whooping- 
cough, scarlet fever and measles." I have 
known people to purposely expose their chil¬ 
dren, saying, "All children must have It, and it 
will be better for them to get ft now than by- 
arul-by. M The foolish display of dress referred 
to is a disease, and a body has no more business 
to take It, than to expose themselves to tho 
scarlet fever. If one does accept It. however, 
they had best dispose of It as quickly as possi¬ 
ble, and well fur them if, unlike that dread dis¬ 
ease, it does not leave them the worse for Its 
visitation. 
We “ must dress, not. wealthy and with taste, 
but fashionably," must we ? Now 1 could point 
out scores of sensible ladles who would declare 
“J. P." had made a mistake in that rule, for 
the words are misplaced and some are left out. 
When you sco a woman deserting taste and 
beauty for mere style, you may make up your 
miud there's a weak spot in tho upper story. It 
is the nature of woman to wish to appear at¬ 
tractive, and when she relinquishes this for 
paltry show she needs doctoring and we would 
like to have you do It; but please don't make 
us all lake the castor oil —it’s unpalatable, and 
we would rather be excused. 
“No matter what her station in life Is, she 
must have the latest stylo in overskirt and 
hat.” That's news to me. Here I havo been 
wearing an overskirt four years old, never sus¬ 
pecting l was breaking a “ law”—am real sorry 
if 1 havo; but then it Is customary with a cer¬ 
tain class of my acquaintance, as well as myself 
to wear our clothes just so long aa they are 
suitable, with only alight alterations that wo 
may not appear conspicuous. As fora new hat 
—It does not lower a person’s position in tho 
least if they happen to wear a " last year's hat." 
I know many who would do it in preference to 
an unbecoming one of later style. Yet, after 
all, It costs so little to procure a tasty hat, one 
cannot be blamed If they dislike to appear odd. 
Secondly; “ Woman must marry, or after tlie 
age of twenty-flvo aim will be dubbed with the 
title of * old maid.' ” There Is a deal of mean¬ 
ing in that terra “old maid." As a general 
thing it is through a wise decision that, t hey 
remain single, and I wouldn’t snap my fingers 
for tho acquaintance of one who spoke in a 
contemptuous tone of “single blessedness." 
Many people prefer It to"double wretched¬ 
ness,” and when we hear ono speaking disre¬ 
spectfully of this worthy class it la a pretty 
sure Indication of their own envy and discon¬ 
tent. The idea that “a middle-aged single 
woman Is not as much respected aa a married 
woman," seems ludicrous in the extreme. Any 
intelligent scholar of to-day could fill half a 
page of the hurai, with tho names of single 
women who have been the bright star In our 
universe; and there ure hundreds of thousands 
whose names are unknown to tho noisy, bust¬ 
ling world, but who are quietly, faithfully ful¬ 
filling their missions In the community about 
them. 
Thirdly; “Young girls pass tho five or six 
years after they are ‘out’ in flirtations and 
amusements, then marry to escape being old 
maids." We hope the Canada girls ure referred 
to, as it u an exception not the rule here, where 
such diversions are Indulged In with the same 
moderation that spices are used. A thrifty 
world this would be If “ we girls” spent all our 
time in “ flirtations and amusements," wouldn’t 
it? There’s work for our hands to do and we 
don't mean to shirk ; so please, “ J. I*.,” do not 
fire quite so much at random next time, as you 
are liable to hit those standing as well as the 
ones who run. C, Estelle Peirce. 
Now Jersey, May, 1375. 
-. . - 
TO COOK A HUSBAND. 
Many good husbands are spoiled in the cook¬ 
ing. Some women go about us if they were 
bladders and blow them up; others keep them 
Constantly in hot water, whilst others freeze 
them by conjugal coolness : some smother them 
In hatred, contention and. variance, and sumo 
keep them in plcklj all their lives. These wo¬ 
men always servo them up with tongue sauce. 
Now It cannot be supposed that husbands will 
be tender and good If managed in this way ; but 
on the contrary, very delicious when managed 
ub follows:—Get a largo jar, called tho jar of 
faithfulness (which all good wives keep on 
hand), place your husband in it and set him 
noar the fire of coojugal love; let the fire be 
pretty hot, but especially let It be clear, and 
above all, let the heat be constant. Cover him 
with affection, kindness and subjection, gar¬ 
nished with uiodeA, becoming familiarity and 
spiced with pleasantry; and, if you add kisses 
and other confectionaries, let them be accom¬ 
panied with a sufficient portion of secreay, 
mixed with prudence and moderation. Wo 
would advise all good wives to try this recipe, 
and realise what an admirable dlsli a husband 
makes when properly cooked. 
- +++ -- 
The highest obedience in the spiritual life is 
to be able to always, and in all things to say; 
“Tby will be done.” 
Heading far 
POLL TADPOLE. 
A Swamp Ballad, by Rosa Terry Cooke. 
There was a little pollywog. 
The sprawling hnhy of a frog, 
Hatched in a green and slimy bog 
One pleusunt day. 
lie hud a, puddle of his own, 
To play and sleep in, all alone, 
And dull as any other drone, 
Ho passnfl Iqy ure away. 
Sometimes a steel-blue dragon fly 
Would poise a moment In liis sky. 
Anil look at him with guttering eye, 
As if he said : 
“ You little damp, unpleasant thing, 
You never seem to know tt’j Spring; 
Why don’t, you Jump or fly, or sing? 
Not lio all duy abod! ’ 
Sometimes a boron, lean and tall. 
With flapping wings nnd horrid squall, 
Would polly wonky 7 .* heart appall 
With open bill. 
Tho little thing, half dead with fear, 
Would scuttle off, for brown or queer. 
Ills fat, round careuna made good cheer, 
A heron’s crop to All. 
But as the year slipped slowly on. 
And polly’s days of sliado or sun. 
Just as they do with every one, 
Too quickly went; 
One day—oh, 'tin a dreadful tale !— 
Our pollywog almost turned pale, 
lie felt a wiggle In til* (nil, 
That ho by no means meant. 
He turned about with stnrtled eyes. 
And saw, with terror and surprise. 
A black thing on the water rise, 
Unseen before. 
He shook himself, he swam about; 
He could not steer—beyond a doubt 
His tail had Just slipped off. or out— 
Was gone forever more ! 
But If you have philosophy, 
(Which means, what can’t he helped, mu9t be, 
la spite of you, In spite of me, 
No nse to fret !J 
Yon will commend this pollywog— 
Poor discontented babv frog !— 
For only hidaug by a log, 
Not splashing lu a pet. 
There, after many a day and night, 
Silent or stormy, dark or bright, 
He felt a I ickllug on his right, 
And oil Ills left; 
And, like a small potato sprout, 
A little foot cuino growing out. 
And then another. Just about 
As little und us rlaft. 
And soon behind each forward leg 
Another budded like a peg. 
As like the .'li st as egg and egg, 
But big and strong; 
And longer, longer still, they grow, - 
Till ho could Jump tis well as you ; 
Then over log and all ho flew. 
And croaked a littlo song. 
Tie was so very glad to find 
Four legs exactly to his mind, 
Instead of one poor tail behind, 
He quite forgot 
How soared he felt to see them grow, 
How sad to seo his rudder go, 
For now he vaulted high and low, 
And sprung from spot to spot. 
Oh, Jack ! how dreadful it would bo 
If legs should grow on you or mo, 
Fr,m side to side, til) ouch should bo 
Fit for a bog! 
If suddenly " development ” 
Should turn and take a downward bent, 
And you, who for a boy were meuut, . 
Should dwindle to a frog! 
But if you should. I beg of you 
To keep this little talc In view, 
And take It coolly, for ’Us true 
What can't be. cured, 
(This is the moral of my rhyme,) 
Just wait, like polly in the slime, 
And, by-and-by, there’ll come a time 
When It can be endured. 
fSf. Nicholas. 
-»»» - - - 
LETTERS FROM E0Y3 AND GIRLS. 
From a Canadian Boy, 
Dear Rural;—I am so fond of reading the 
letters from boys and girls iti tlie Rural that l 
thought 1 would try and write one. 1 am 14 
years old and go to school; but l suppose I will 
soon have to remain at home, as seeding will 
shortly commence, 1 like tbo Rural very 
much, and ain sorry we didn’t taka it long ago ; 
we only subscribed for It this year for tho first 
time. I like to make out tho puzzles, and I 
think have succeeded In making out Anagram 
No. 8, in the Rural of April 17. It is: 
Tho girl engaged in molding bread 
Hhall make some sweetheart Hotter, 
With hope to set the dairy-maid 
To make his bread and b rtter! 
There has been a very severe winter here. It 
was the coldest I havo yet seen. About the first 
of April iL was so warm that the folks about 
hero thought they could soon start to sow ; but 
much to the surprise of all it changed again 
and stimved and got awful cold, and tho ground 
was frozen harder than when the snow first 
went away. Borne farmers who live six or 
seven miles from here, where the land Is sandy, 
wont at seoding through the nice weather wo 
had a week or more ago, and now it is thought 
their work will have to be done oyer again, I 
hope we shall soon havo fine, settled weather, 
for it is very discouraging to wait so long forlt. 
For fear this might bo too long, I will not write 
any more this timo; but If this is printed I will 
bo encouraged to try again, when I will give 
more news about the place we live In.—R obert 
II. C„ Wellesley, Waterloo Co., Out., April 21. 
From an Ohio Qlrl. 
Editor Rural:—1 have read a great many 
letters in your valuable paper and thought I 
would try and write one. We havo t aken your 
paper for a year and a half, und could not well 
do without It now; wo cau hardly wait till 
Saturday comes. 1 wish it could come twice a 
week Instead of once. In the Rural uf May 
15 the “ Hidden Groceries " are lard, butter, 
rice, cloves, raisins, mace, soda, spice, starch. 
I have no pets, as some of rny Rural cousins 
have, I am not a groat hand Tor pets. Aa this 
is my first letter, I will close for fear of its 
going Into the waste-basket. — Jank A. G., 
Madison Co., Ohio. 
From n Michigan Boy. 
Dear Editor:-! long havo thought that I 
would like to write to the Rural readers. I 
live in the State of Michigan, and havo good 
times sliding down hill. It rained the other 
day ; It made a nice crust on the snow, which 
made good sliding. I caught two minks this 
winter. Tbe snow Is two foot deep here. It 
has been quite cold — 35“ below zero. Our 
school was out last Wednesday,— Charley S. 
G., Cobmoosa, Mich. 
From a Central New York Girl. 
Dear Rural:—B oeing so many letters from 
boys and girls, I thought I would try to write 
ono. I havo but one pot, that is a cat, and a 
vory sweet one, too. I cannot say, us Miss 
Dewiuioi’ did, that I havo placed eleven quilts, 
but I have pieced one and part of another, and 
for the next one I have no very pretty pattern. 
Will some of tho RURAL girls please toil me, 
through this paper, a pretty way, and also how 
It Is made? I have been to school nearly all 
winter; hud a vory nice teacher. At (ho close 
of school we had an exhibition.—M ay. 
From a Central New York Boy. 
Mr. Editor Wo live on a farm near 1’iiter- 
boro\ Wo have now taken the Rural for two 
years, and we couldn’t well live without It. 
Where Is Cousin Johnnie? 1 used to read the 
letters from her, but now I don’t see anything 
from her. I am fourteen years old. We have 
a good district school. I attended a writing 
school this winter. 1 have written to you be¬ 
fore, but my letter got lost, l suppose. There 
is a rat lu our collar and wo can't catch him? 
Will some of your roaders loll ino how to do so 
or how to make a trap ?— Frank S., Mile Strip, 
N. Y. 
ifte f uller. 
CHARADE-No. 5. 
Hear ye, who boast from ages dark, 
A pedigree to Noah’s ark 
Painted on parchment nice ; 
I’m older still, for I was there ; 
As first of an, I did appear 
With Kvo iu Paradise. 
And I was Adam, Adam I, 
And I was Eve and Eve was I, 
In splits of wind and weather ; 
Yet, mark me, Adam was not I 
Neither was Mrs. Adam 1, 
Unless we were together. 
Suppose then Kvo and Adam talking ; 
With all my heart, but were they walking, 
There ends all simile ; 
For though t've tongue, arid always talk, 
Legs too, yet whene’er I walk 
That puts an end to mo.— 
Not such an end, but that I’ve breath, 
Therefore to such a kind of death 
I make but small objection. 
For soon agaiu, I cuino to view, 
And though a Christian, yot 'tis true 
I file by resurrection. 
Answer next weok. 
--—|»| i i 
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.-No. 4. 
dlana. 3. A strait of the United States. 4. . 
Virginia. 5. A city of Cuba. (!. A clt 
ot Holland. 7. A city of Belgium. 8. One c 
the United States. 9. A city or Wales. 10. j 
capo, of Africa. 11. A mountain of Sumatrt 
U. A once noble country. 
My initials form a lake of the North, and m 
finals form ono of tho United States. 
137“ Answer next week. 
PUZZLER ANSWERS,—June 5. 
Historical enigma No. 2.-“ I prefer the 
lilo and preservation of one of my citizens to 
tho capture and death of one hundred ene¬ 
mies. 
LMjuunri XlunUftlTIJ IN <), - 
Burns; Finals, Despondency. 
Diamond Puzzle No. 2.— 
lumaia, xvooeri 
F 
MET 
MEDAL 
FEDERAL 
TARDY 
LAY 
L 
