estimation we must be industrious if wo would 
be successful In life. My homo is upon one of 
the blue hills of Central New York. My father 
has a Rood farm and cattle and horses, [ have 
a pet kitten we call “Tiger Lily,” we think him 
quite cunning; hut “Tiger” froze his ears in 
cold weather and It has taken nearly all the 
sap out of him. Ho Is gray, and will kiss mo 
when i tell him to. Will try to do hotter next 
time; so good by, Mr. Editor, for this time.— 
Amelia. 
horse, and they are soon cantering gaily away 
—cantering, only until the farm-house is out of 
sight, then their horses fall into the slowest of 
walks. 
Just here » love story might begin, but our 
day with Ethel is nearly flnlsbed, and Harry 
and Ethei. are already “engaged." They are 
not talkiug of love, but of the English classics. 
Harry is surprised at her knowledge of the 
ancient classics. Her study of Lati n is a secret 
known only to father, mother and the professor 
of the village academy, to whom she goes for 
aid once a week. ITarry is more and more 
convinced that she is what he always thought 
hei^a most remarkable young woman. "She 
accomplishes three times the work I do al¬ 
ready,’’ he says to himself, “for she works 
with her head, her heart, and her hands, and 
each Is done equally well." 
At half-past nine Harry leaves Ethel at her 
own door. “I will not ask you to cime in,” 
she says, “ for I must soon be asleep, or I shall 
not be fit for to-morrow’s work. Pressing a 
kiss upon the sweet lips of the wise and simple 
maiden, Harry depaits, saying softly to him¬ 
self, “ .She will do mo good, and not evil, all the 
days of her life." 
MERRY WORKERS 
A TWILIGHT DREAM 
Tell me what the mill doth say, 
Clatter, clatter, night, und day, 
When we sleep and when we wake. 
Clatter, clatter. It doth make. 
Never idle, never still. 
What a worker Is the mill. 
Hearken what the rill doth say, 
As It Journeys every day; 
Sweet as skylark on tae wing. 
Ripple, ripple, It doth sing ; 
Never idle, never still, 
What ft worker Is the rill. 
Listen to the honey bee, 
As It dance* merrily 
To the little fairies’ drum, 
Humming, drumming, drumming, drum, 
Never Idle, never still, 
Humming, drumming, drum It will. 
Like the mill, the rill, and bee, 
I would never Idle bo. 
What says cock-u-doodle-doo ? 
Up there’s work enough for you. 
If I work, then, with a will, 
It will be but playing still; 
Ever merry, never weary, 
It will bo but playing still. 
BY VIOLA 
As I wandered last eve at twilight’s gray hours, 
Reflecting In sadness o’er life’s blighted flowers. 
In ray favor’d retreat, where the walls are so high 
Ton can scarce catch a glimpse of the beautiful 
sky,— 
As I stood by the fount watching each tiny billow. 
Gently soothed by its ripples, I took for my pillow 
A bed of sweet pinks, then kind Morpheus came. 
Who nightly descends o’er us mortals to reign. 
And the dream he presented I cannot forget, 
Transplanted,! seemed to be. out to Garnett— 
To u home from which all of the children had flown 
Excepting young Freddie, and he wished to roam. 
His brothers, he said, were at work In the Held, 
Where the lab’rers are few, and the harvest mutt 
yield 
Tenfold more, in future, than if he dwelt there 
To comfort the hearts of that dear aged pair. 
The t^awk and the Little Bird. 
Dear Rural:— About two weeks ago, as we 
rode along on our way to church, one Sabbath 
morning, there suddenly llew out of the low 
bushes on the bank of the lake, a very largo 
bird. “ An eagle ! an eagle I ” wo all shouted. 
Papa says, “Only a hawk; hut what Is that little 
bird doing?” And then we saw that a tiny 
little bird waa chasing the hawk and apparent¬ 
ly giving him some sharp thrusts with his tiny 
bill. The hawk flew murid In a circle; then 
higher, then lower, but all in vain—he could 
not distance nor discourage his pursuer. Away 
they went until out of our .sight. And now, aa 
I am anxious to know the name of this plucky 
little fellow, I want to know If thoro Is a boy or 
girl among your young letter writers who Is 
naturalist enough to tell mo its name, or shall 
l submit the case to the regular Naturalist De¬ 
partment. I hope the boys and girls won't for¬ 
get to write and tell us oil about their homes 
and pets.- Lolls Lincoln, Canandaigua (Lake 
Shore), X. Y\, iTune, 1876. 
I begged those fond parents, with tears and deep 
sighs. 
To keep Fred at homo, with those magnetic eyes; 
Then 1 spoke of a hundred hearts J AMtr. had won. 
And earnestly prayed them to keep Fred at home. 
A DAY DREAM 
Sitting near my window, one warm, sunshiny 
day, with uothiug to meet the eye hut s treets 
of dusty houses and an occasional glimpse, 
through the smoke-clouds, of distant hillsides, 
i grew tired of the monotonous scene, and fell 
to dreaming. Only tue dreamer knows with 
what lightning rapidity fly the wheels of Queen 
Mau’s chariot. Now here, and In the twinkling 
of an eye, where ? Flouting idly on the rippled 
waters cf an Italian lake- In the Vatican, gaz¬ 
ing enraptured on the face of Raphael’s Ma¬ 
donna, or perhaps wandering through the val¬ 
leys of our own Italy, California. 'Twas In 
quaint old England that I found myself, not In 
the least fatigued, and infinitely joyous in an¬ 
ticipation of the pleasure awaiting me. There 
Is an cxquislts charm that lingers about old 
unsocial’ons, clinging as affectionately as the 
Ivy to the rugged, time-worm stones of a man¬ 
sion house—one of the splendid results of he¬ 
reditary possession which we Americans ure 
doomed to forego. 
Even In my dream 1 trod the paths that have 
echoed to the quiet footsteps of generations. 
I found myself In the old town of Lincoln, with 
its imtny-towored cathedral, its quaint, narrow 
streets, and Us ancient stono houses, whose 
thatched roofs, all overgrown with mosses and 
flowers, looked as if Nature, not content with 
man's handiwork, had sought to beautify, per¬ 
haps to hide, the marks of Time. I lingered in 
ttie aisles of tho old cathedral, gazed up Into 
Its carved arches, and watched the swallows as 
they flew to and fro, then darted Into their 
dusky alcoves. Then l ascended tho stairway 
that led high up Into the “ ivy-mantled tower,” 
where every stone seemed a projection to hang 
a thought upon—a weird, fantastic thought, 
a wakened by the legends told at the village Inn, 
Rut hark! the grand bell in the tower told me, 
In mo sweetest, mightiest accents that I ever 
hoard, that it was eight o’clock. [ lingered as 
one charmed, and watched the moon arise be¬ 
hind the ponderous ruin of a Norman castle, 
illuminating It with a pale, ghostly light That 
lent enchantment to the scene. Then arose a 
spirit, tall and gaunt, from out tho “ cloud- 
capt tower,” and In toues hollow and unearthly 
It bade me leave that realm of fantasy—then 
vanished Into the mist that seemed to encircle 
It. I awoke from my revery only to see “ how 
quick bright tilings come to confusion.” 
Pittsburgh, Pa., May, 1875. M. h. v. 
A11 pleasures are fleeting, bnt one year, at least, 
Of my unhappy life was a rapturous feast,— 
For we lived near each other, my Idol and l. 
But alas! the time came for the dreaded good-by, 
All is desolate uow, on this side of the grave— 
Yet one blousing for each of my sex do l crave, 
And that Is. if Freddie’s like Jamik at all. 
Forbid him to leave hts old ancestral hall. 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS 
From n Northern New York Girl. 
Dear Rural:— This Is my first Letter to the 
Rural. We have nut taken it but a short time, 
but we like it very much, and think It a very 
nice paper, l llkotoreadthe “Bojs’uud Girls’ 
Letters,” nild thought 1 would write one too. 
J am t welve years old, and live on a farm. I go 
to a district school about eight months in a 
year, but I hopo to go to the Academy soon. I 
like to go to school very well. I take music les¬ 
sons of a lady in town. Sometimes I do not 
like to practice, but 1 have to and I am glad of 
it. We have a dairy of fifty cows, and take our 
milk to the butter factory, about half a mile 
from home.— Adelia A. C., Malone, N. Y. 
About Charlie’s Squirrel. 
Dear Mr. Editor :— As l promised I would 
write again, 1 thought I would write about my 
squirrel this time. I caught it and cuged it. 
Sometimes l would lake it out In my hands. 
One night it got out of the cage. Wheu I heard 
it, hunting about the chamber, I thought it was 
a mouse, but when 1 found out that It was my 
squirrel I was afraid I could never catch it 
again; but in the morning I caught it very 
easily. After that I would let. It, go loose in the 
chamber, sometimes half a day at a time. After 
I had kept it about a year 1 thought that It 
■would want to go free again. So I took the 
cage Out in the yard and opened the door, ex¬ 
pecting to see it run to the woods as fast as 
possible. At first It did not corne out of the 
cage: when it was scared out it ran along a 
little distance arid then looked back, and then 
went on to tho woods.— Charlie I’. C. 
A DAY WITH ETHEL GRANT. 
BY KENNETH DUNN 
A June day—the sun just risen—his first 
beams fall upon Ethel’s head; Ethel kneel¬ 
ing before the open window in prayer. This is 
the way she likes to begin every now day, re¬ 
ceiving it as a gift from the hand of God; she 
likes to receive the llrst sunbeams upon her 
head it seems to hpr a benediction. Next, 
some passages from her blble, selected as best 
suited her mood; then a few thoughts from 
some cherished author, and she is ready for the 
work of the day ; a June day In a farm-house— 
without, full of sunshine and the sweet breath 
of flowers; within, full of cares and homely 
work. 
After the early breakfast, there la churning 
to be d no; Ethel takes her Latin grammar 
and sits down to the churn, which is worked 
with a crank. An liour’a work is before her, 
she well knows, but the Latin lesson will be 
well learned by that time (some notes and ob¬ 
servations under seveial general rules); then 
there are twenty lines in Virgil to translate 
some time during the dav. Churning and tho 
grammar lesson finished there Is some nice 
baking to do, as company are expected to tea; 
but It is only eight o’clock, and it is a long 
time until four, when the company might be 
expected ; yet Ethel proceeds at once to her 
baking. The light, biscuit are Just out of the 
oven ; mother lias made them this morning be¬ 
cause Ethel had the churning to do; there 
are only ( lie mother's and Ethel's hands to do 
all the work in the farm-house. 
Ry ten o’clock the baking Is done; sliver and 
golden cake—tarts that would melt In your 
mouth—puffs ready for the cream. The twenty 
liues of Virgil have been translated while 
Ethel was watching her baking. Then mother, 
who has been sweeping, goes away to Bew, or to 
rest, until d’nner is on the table; while Ethel 
arranges the rooms, Alls the vases with flowers, 
and preparr s dinner. 
At Just twelve, In come father and the boys 
and the “hired man,” and the family sit down 
to a well prepared dinner and a nicely arranged 
table. After dinner mother and Ethel both 
“take hold," and by half-past one the work Is 
all done. A half hour of perfect rest for Ethel 
follows: then the bath and toilette, and at 
throe o’clock a fresh and sweet little lady en¬ 
ters the pretty, flower-perfumed parlor for an 
hour’s practice at the piano. 
At four the “company" arrive; the minister, 
with hla wife and daughters, and Judge Pier- 
pont with his wife und two sons. Father, 
mother and the boys are ready to visit. The 
time passes lu pleasant converse, and In songs 
and duets by the young people. 
At half-past flve Ethel and the boys quietly 
withdraw, leaving father and mother to enter¬ 
tain the guests. At six ea is announced. An 
hour inter the company rise from the table, at 
which nearly every topic of passing interest has 
been discussed, greatly to the edification of the 
younger members of the households. 
Another half-hour and the guests, pleading 
the long digtanoe to the vlilagB, have departed, 
leaving the farmer and his boys ample time to 
attend to their evening chores. All gone, with 
the exception of Judge Pibrpont's oldest son, 
home for his college vacation ; he pleads for a 
horseback rkle with Ethel, in the gloaming. 
He rode I is own horse over for that very pur¬ 
pose. Rut Ethel points him to the pile of 
dishes to be washed—they are in the dining¬ 
room now. Eddie, the youngest, offers to help 
mother with the dishes. “ I would do anything 
for Ethel,” he assures Harry Pierpont, when 
Ethel has left the room to don her habit, “ she 
is so good.” Father himself brings up Ethel’s 
From an Ohio Boy. 
Mr. Editor I am a boy thirteen years of 
age. My grandma takeB the Rural and says 
she could not live without It, Wo have but one 
pet, and that is a dog. Ilia name Is “ Curlle." 
We named him this because bo is curly. He is 
of a light chestnut color. He can perform a 
great many tricks. He can sit tip and hold up 
his fore paws, shake hands, dance, and Jump 
through my arms or a hoop. He does not catch 
very many rats. 1 used to have a black cat. Its 
name was “ Pinky,” and everyday when I came 
home from school she would bo on the gate 
post, and the minute 1 would open the gate she 
would jump upon my shoulder for me to carry 
her Into the house. Rut "Pinky” has been 
dead four years next April, and every spring I 
fix up her grave and plant flowers on It. 1 tried 
to raise some watermelons last year, but with¬ 
out success. I am going to try again this your. 
—Fit/. L., BeUefontalne , Ohio. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS.-No. 1 
A Little 8tory by a Little Virginia Girl. 
Said a little drop of dew, “ I will tell you my 
history. I am formed from vapor rising from 
the occun. One night as 1 waa hanging to a 
small cloud l thought I would drop. There 
happened to he a beautiful flower under me 
which was nearly dead for want of water. I 
dropped right on it. Just as I dropped I heard 
It say, * Oh, I shall die I' hut when 1 dropped it 
smiled, and I kissed It. Just ns the morning 
broke a beautiful girl with golden curls came 
into the garden and exclaimed‘ Oh, what a 
beautiful flower 1 and It has a little gem on its 
head.' Haying this she broke it off the stem and 
carried It and the drop of dew to a little cot¬ 
tage. On a bed in the room lay a small girl 
who had been bo sick she was not aide to leave 
her bed for several months. The girl slipped 
up to her bedside and said, * I have brought you 
a flower with a crown on Its head. Shall I put 
it in some water?’ * Yes,’ replied the sick girl. 
So the flower and the dew were put in some 
water. And here i am. The sick girl Is better, 
and father says I am the cause of it.”— Dickie, 
Hayfield, Va. _ 
From a New York Boy. 
Dear Mr. Editor: — f take your paper and 
like ito read It very much, f am eleven yeare 
old, and live In the State of New York. My pa 
keeps a dairy and 1 have quite a good many 
chores to do. 1 have a young Newfoundland 
dog, about four months old. lie will shake 
bands with me and I am teaching him to uhurn. 
He is the nicest pot that I ever had. 1 will 
close for this time, and if I ever see this in print 
I will try again.—O. S. H. 
S3?” Answer In two weeks. 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA-No. 1 
My first Is In gone but not in went, 
My second is in Easter but not in lent; 
My third is in baud but not in foot, 
My fourth Is in shoe hut not In boot; 
My fifth 1 b in snow but not In rain, 
My sixth Is in ache but not In pain ; 
My seventh Is In mouse but not In rat. 
My eighth is In cap but not in hat; 
My ninth is in rope but not in cord, 
My tenth is in queen but not in lord ; 
My eleventh 1b in read but not In spell, 
My twelfth is in cistern but not In well. 
My whole are Insects that are very destruct. 
ive to vegetation, in this and adjoining States. 
Neosho Co., Kan. D. W. Gilmore. 
t5&“ Answer in two weeks. 
THOSE TWO HOMES 
Dear Rural: —I have been reading May 
Maple's "Two Homes Contrasted,” In your 
issue of May 15, and wish to ask some questions 
about that model farm hone—for model It cer¬ 
tainly Is, according to May’s description of it 
But perhaps Aunt Ruth was looking for com¬ 
pany and had everything “done up” so w. It 
that her work did not occupy aa much time as 
usual. At any rate, 1 should like to know how 
she managed the washing to get it out in two 
hours. 1 am Interested bore, for my sister and 
myself do our washing—eight in the family— 
and it takes us two or turee times two hours to 
do It. We' thought we did real well (for us) 
this morning when we washed In lour and cue- 
half hours. We have areal good washing ma¬ 
chine (Doty’s) and a wringer. 
I would like to know also what price they 
get for their butter, ft seems to me tneir " pin 
money ” goes a long, long ways. If Aunt Ruth 
will answer this she will much oblige a 
Ottumwa, Iowa. Farmer’s Daughter. 
TRANSPOSITION.—No. 1 
Rehet si ton ni teh diwe dowrl a lavyel os 
twees, 
Sa taht lave ni soweh sobmo eth ribhgt tawres 
teem. 
Ho 1 eth tals yars fo leefnig nda file smut par- 
det, 
Ree lite loborn to hatt lavely hasll dafe romf 
ym atreh. Monumental. 
tST" Answer In two weeks. 
From a Central New York Girl. 
Mr. Editor:—I am a farmer’s daughter, and 
love vevy much to read your valuable paper, 
and am quite interested in the boys’ and girls’ 
letters, but have never written to the Rural. 
I will write a few thoughts; if acceptable will 
expect to see them In your paper. My educa¬ 
tional advantages have been very limited. I 
have adopted a plan of writing something 
original or something I have read each day, and 
find It to be both profitable and Interesting. 
To cultivate the Intellect and a taste for the 
beautiful and to be Industrious should be the 
aim of every boy and girl in the land. In my 
Home Courtesies.—" T am one of those 
whose lot in life has been to go out Into an un¬ 
friendly world at an early age; and of nearly 
twenty families In which I made ray home in 
the course of about nine years, there were only 
three that could be designated as happy fami¬ 
lies; and the source of the trouble was not so 
much tho lack of love as the lack of care to 
manifest It." The closing words of this sen¬ 
tence gives us the fruitful source of family 
alienations, of heartaches Innumerable, of sad 
faces and gloomy, home circles. “Not so 
much the lack of love as the lack of care to 
manifest It.” 
DROP-LETTER PUZZLE.-No. 1 
W- -p-ng m-ud-r- f-r - n-ght, b-t j- - c-m-th 
n tta- ra-rn-ng. 
Fill the blanks with vowels. PAtapscO. 
j ■ST Answer in two weeks. 
WORD-SQUARE ENIGMA-No. 1 
1. Is a kind of fruit. 2. Means solitary, 
a number. 4. Means to measure. 
Answer in two weeks. h. 
