THE RURAL HEW-YORKER. 213 
MARCH 26 
fitetOT IJtkellrag. 
THE LUCKY HORSESHOE. 
A fabmer traveling with his load 1 
Picked up a horseshoe in tho road. 
And nailed it fast, to his barn door. 
That luck mlirht down upon him pour; 
That every hlessintf known in life 
jVtiirht crown his homestead and his wife, 
And never any kind of harm 
Descend upon his arrowing farm. 
But dire ill-fortune booh bearan 
To visit the astounded man. 
His hens declined to lay tbeir eprss; 
His bacon tumbled from the pears. 
And rats devoured tho fallen lejrs; 
His oorn. that never failed before, 
Mildewed and rotted on the floor. 
His arrass refused to end in hay; 
His cattle died or went astray; 
In short, all moved the crooked way. 
Next Spring 1 a groat drought baked the sod. 
And roasted every pea in pod; 
Tho beans declared they could not grow 
So long as nature acted so; 
Redundant Insects roared their brood 
To starve for lack of Juicy food; 
The staves from barrel sides went off 
As if they had the whooping-cough, 
And nothing of the useful kind 
To hold together felt inclined; 
In short, it was no use to try 
While all the land was in a fry. 
One morn, demoralised with grief. 
The farmer clamored for relief; 
And prayed right hard to understand 
What witchcraft now possessed his land; 
Why house and farm in misery grew 
Sincere nailed up that “ lucky” shoe v 
While thus dismayed o’er matters wrong 
An old man chanced to trudge along, 
To whom he told, with wormwood tears, 
How his affairs were in arrears; 
And what a desperate state of things 
A picked-up horseshoe sometimes brings. 
The strauger asked to see the shoe 
The farmer brought it into view; 
But when the old man raised his head, 
He laughed outright, and quickly said: 
" No wonder skies noon you frown— 
You’ve nailed tho horseshoe upside down! 
Just turn it round, and soon you’ll see 
How you and Fortune will agree.” 
The farmer turned tho horseshoe round. 
And showers began to swell the ground 
The Bunshine laughed among his grain. 
And heaps on heaps piled up tbo wain; 
The loft his hay conld barely hold, 
His cattlo did as they were told ; 
His fruit trees needed sturdy props 
To hold the gathering apple crops; 
His turnip and potato fields 
Astonished all men by their yields; 
Folks never saw such ears of corn 
As in his smiling hills were born; 
His barn was full of bursting bins— 
His wife presented him with twins; 
His neighbors marveled more aud more 
To see his increase iu his store, 
And now the merry farmer sings, 
" There arc two ways Of doing things; 
And when for good luck you would pray, 
Nail up your horseshoe the riyht way." 
- ♦ « » — 
ADVENTURES OF AN ANTEDILUVIAN 
lu The Lain! of Promise. 
BY JAMES M’NEILL. 
(Continued from page 108.) 
CHAPTER VIII. 
A MISFORTUNE WHICH IN THE CITY OF GOODWILLTO- 
MEN IS NO MISFORTUNE. 
The gentleman who had conducted me to Mr. 
Autleman’H gave me the directions necessary to 
And my way hack; but 1 tound that the hour for 
closing business was already at hand, and that I 
would not be able to reach my friend Mr. Flyter’s 
store before he would have left for home. So 1 te- 
BOlved to return to my hotel. 
All the numbered streets crossed the avenues at 
right angles, aud as the avenues were also num¬ 
bered, It was not difficult for even a stranger to 
make hla way about the city. I calculated that 
my hotel was about eight miles off, and for the 
purpose of tho better observation of objects of In¬ 
terest, I resolved to make a portion or the distance 
at least, on foot. 
The same general features of the city which I 
have already described were presented to me as 1 
passed along. I was surprised to find so much 
uniformity in the different parts of the city; for 1 
naturally supposed that some localities would he 
specially devoted to the homes or the poor, and 
that others would contain tho mansions of the 
rich; that some streets would bo the brilliant 
thoroughfares, and others little more than obscure 
passage-ways, where low groggerles might flourish 
and the pawn-broker and the second-hand clothier 
display their dingy wareH; that bankers and brok¬ 
ers, iron mongers, produce dealers, commission 
men, and other distinct branches of trade would 
each be found congregated in certain localities. 
And though this was to some extent true ot the 
business Interests, yet, so far as my observation 
went, I could not discover that there was anything 
to distinguish the fashionable rrom the unfashion¬ 
able, the high rrom the low, the rich from the 
poor, either In locality, the style or the houses, or 
the dress and general appearance of the people 
themselves. 
I passed three of the parks which I have already 
described, In the course of my walk. 1 observed 
that they each contamoa the area ot sixteen 
blocks, being two blocks wide by eight long. I 
observed also that at a distance of eight squares 
from every side ot a park another park>egan.Thus 
each park was the center ot a parallelogram of a 
hundred and forty-four squares, being four 
squares wide on every side, which constituted a 
section or ward of the city. Each park, 'though 
free to all, was especially the pleasure-ground o* 
the people of the ward In which It was located. Tn 
many other respects the people of each ward were 
bound together by a community of interest. But 
this will better appear further on In my narrative. 
I observed that the sides of the squares which 
faced the parks were entirely devoted to dwelling- 
houses and, unlike the residences on other streets, 
every one of which had a considerable plot of 
ground around It, they were built close together, 
and In a somewhat plainer style than the other 
dwellings. Hence I conjectured that these might 
be the habitations of the poorer class, who, as a 
sort ot balancing of conditions, were accorded the 
right of occupying the sites about the parks; 
being thus enabled to look out. in common upon 
the combtned beauties ot art and nature, which 
their circumstances did not permit them to enjoy 
as a part, of their individual homes. 
navlDg sauntered along for about an hour and 
a half, T began to grow somewhat leg-weary as 
well as hungry, for it was now sometime past, the 
hourof noon. As well to rest myself as to regale 
my inner man, I stepped Into a restaurant which 
presented an external appearance of neatness 
that was most Inviting. 
to my surprise, I found but one customer pres¬ 
ent, and he had finished his dinner and was about 
paying bis bill. Some of the waiters were earing 
and others were sweeping up the crumbs and set¬ 
ting the room tn order. From this I conjectured 
that, unlike the restaurants of my own country 
where meals are served " at all hours." the regu¬ 
lar habits of the people permitted their eatlng- 
houaes to place exact limits to the duration of 
their hours for meals. And as 1C was now but half 
past one o’clock. It occurred tome that but a small 
margin was allowed for the many causes which 
are apt to delay a man’s time of eating. 
”1 am late, sir, T see,” I remarked to the head 
waiter, who looked about as much like a waiter as 
a dignitary of Btate In my own country. 
** Ilather late, sir, but we never turn a man 
away hungry,” he replied with a kindly smile 
which was a very pleasant thing Indeed to see In 
a waiter under such circumstances. 
I have never yet eaten a dinner In your city, 
and I am an entire stranger to the customs ot the 
country,” I remarked, by way pf apology, as he 1 
seated me at a table and placed' a bill of fare be. 
fore me. 
** Pardon me, sir,” said he, with a look of pity 
which was becoming very familiar as well as 
quite disagreeable to me, “ but you look like a 
person who has lately gotten up from a bed of 
sickness.” 
•* Do 1 ?” I rejoined, laughing. “ Just bring on 
some of your substantial and I will show you 
that 1 am a true convalescent. I had quite a poor 
turn this morning but one of your learned doctors 
cured me almost Instantaneously by simply assur¬ 
ing me that I was not sick at all. So to convince 
you that l am well, reassure myself and vindicate 
the doctor, please bring me a dish ot oysters to 
start off with.” 
Oysters I” he exc latmed In surprise. 
" Oh 11 forgot,” said I, "Its out of their season 
Isn’t it. Well, bring me some roast beef, lamb, 
or veal, anything substantial, I don’t care much 
what It Is; for I didn’t make out much of a 
breakfast, this morning, and T am very hungry.” 
The waiter gave me a look which seemed to Im¬ 
ply that he thought some proofs of my sanity 
would be as much in place as those of my freedom 
from bodily aliment. 
" I beg your pardon'” sir,” said he, “ but l must 
confess that these dishes w filch you mention are 
altogether new to me.” 
"Can It be possible,” I exclaimed, " that such a 
common dish as roast beef is unknown In this 
country ? Tho waiter who served me at breakfast 
torn me that meat was not used In here as an ar¬ 
ticle of diet, but l thought he was Joking or else 
serving his purpose In some way by telling me a 
professional lie.” 
" A professional lie!" he repeated, with a look 
of pity, strongly tinctured with contempt. " Why 
sir, there is not a waiter In the city who would 
not burn with Just Indignation at such a charge, 
i do not quite understand what, you mean by a 
‘professional He,’ but If It Is a warping ot the 
truth tn any manner; the charge, In this case, 
certainly Is unfounded, and 1 doubt r,ot would be 
In any other Instance in which it might be pre¬ 
ferred against any waiter In the city.” 
This was spoken with tho noble dignity that a 
virtuous man is Lnollned to repel any Insinuation 
against hla Integrity, and though It appeared to 
me only the extravagant language of an enthusi¬ 
astic defender of his guild, 1 could not feel but that 
I was Justly rebuked for having spoken so un¬ 
charitably of one whose character was unknown 
to mo. I therefore expressed my regret at having 
by word or thought done Injury to his fellow- 
vvalter’a reputation. 1 said that during my brief 
stay in the city I had lived in such a contlnous 
state ofondermeut at the marvelous advance¬ 
ment of Its people In everything that was worthy 
of praise, t hat It might not be so strange as It at 
first, appeared to me, If among them not a single 
Individual could be found, who would stoop to tell 
a lie. 
' ” l hope sir.” said he,” that you do not come 
from a country where falsehood is so common 
that general truthfulness would be regarded as an 
occasion for wonderment, and a thing to be es¬ 
teemed worthy or praise.” 
I affected tn treat this remark as a joke, and 
laughed heartily at it. At the same time I apolo¬ 
gized for the delay which i was causing him, and 
requested that 1 might be served with anything 
that he might have which was serviceable ror a 
hungry man. To tell the truth, I did not know 
what reply to make to this home thrust. I did not 
wish to bring reproach on my country by answer¬ 
ing it as truth would compel me to do, and l had 
too much respect for myself to evade It by false¬ 
hood. 
The waiter left mo, and soon returned with a 
bowl and spoon and a dish which he called lUjue, 
a sort of thin pudding, combining the flavor of 
barley and hominy, but greatly superior to any 
thing of the kind that T had ever eaten, it was In 
reality made out of a kind of grain which Is en¬ 
tirely unknown in my country, but which hns 
such an excellent flavor and Is such a complete 
article of food that its use among this people Is 
universal Especially at the mid-day meal—which, 
by the way. Is merely a lunch—It Is the favor¬ 
ite, and, as a rale, the only dish. I ate heartily of 
It, and enjoyed it much, though 1 thought It would 
have been Improved by a richer sauce. 
To show my appreciation of the waiter’s cour¬ 
tesy In serving me with so much good nature at so 
late an hour, I put. my hand In my pocket to give 
him a fee. when, to my surprise. T discovered that 
my purse was not there. T always carried it, In 
my right pants pocket, hut not finding It there, T 
turned to the left, and from the left to the hip, and 
from the hip to the pockets of my vest, and from 
these to the pockets of my coat, my hope growlDg 
less and my dtsmay Increasing as each pocket was 
searched In vain. 
“T declare,” I exclaimed, excitedly, “I have 
been robbed ! Some one has picked my pocket! I 
surely bad my purse with me when 1 set out this 
morning, some skillful thief doubtless secured It 
tn my hurrying to see the doctor. Ts there a police 
station near where I can make known my loss?” I 
asked the waiter. 
My distress and excitement had gathered round 
me a number of the waiters, and even the proprie¬ 
tor left his dinner to Inquire Into the cause of my 
trouble. I expected to he denounced by blra as a 
"dead beat.” to be summarily ejected Into the 
street, or to have a policeman summoned to bear 
me off to Justice. Judge of my surprise, thei-efore, 
when the proprietor, upon hearing my story, never 
offered to doubt it, but endeavored In the most 
kindly manner to allay my distress. 
He assured me that I need not feel any uneasi¬ 
ness whatever over my loss, He said that there 
were finding-offices tn every ward of the cit y where 
anything which was found was sent, and from 
which it was reported to every other office in the 
city. That If I would go to any of the flndlng- 
offlees I would very likely hear ot my purse, and 
doubtless have It restored to me within an hour 
after ray loss was made known. 
I looked at the man in surprise, hut recalling my 
talk with the waiter, I prudently refrained from 
casting any doubt on the general honesty or the 
people. Especially, I thought, ought I to rely on 
the truthfulness and Integrity of a community 
where 1 myself, though an utter stranger, am 
treated with so much-confidence. 
I took off a finger-ring which I wore and offered 
it to the proprietor of the restaurant as security for 
my debt till I should be able to pay It. He looked 
at me as though he were hardly able to compre¬ 
hend my proposition, and the head waiter whis¬ 
pered something apart to him. the Import ot 
which,from the manner In which they regarded me 
and the tew words which l overheard. I Judged to 
be the calling or my mental soundness In question. 
I again pressed my security upon him, but he po¬ 
litely declined It, assuring me that If the amount 
were a thousand times as large he would ask no 
stronger security than my own word. 
This speech appeared to me the very marrow of 
blarney, though l could not conceive what reason 
there could be, under the circumstances for flat¬ 
tery. 1 thanked him for the good opinion which 
he seemed to have ot my honesty, and requested 
him to direct me to the nearest finding office. He 
replied that they were all closed, their office hours 
being from eight to twelve In the forenoon, and 
from six to seven In the evening. 
Carefully noting down the address of my trust¬ 
ing acquaintance, 1 again bent my steps toward 
my hotel, my mind completely occupied with re¬ 
flections upon the countless advantages which 
mu8t accrue to a community whose members are 
aU thoroughly honest and truthful. 
CHAPTER IX. 
TELEPHONES IN THE CITY GOODWILLTOMEN. 
I arrived at my hotel late In the afternoon, 
having walked the whole distance in a leisurely, 
observant manner, traversing the whole length of 
several parks, resting frequently on their rustic 
seats, and enjoying the rare beauty of their rich 
and varied scenes. 
I found a note awaiting me from Mr. Fly ter, In 
which he expressed his apprehension that some 
misfortune had befallen me, and requested that I 
should telephone him at once, If I should return 
to the hotel. 
I told the clerk that I wished to communicate 
wlthl.sss, 57 th Ave., and asked him with the air of 
one familiar with Buch matters to direct me to the 
telephone. He pointed to a door at the other side 
of the room, aud told me that I would find It there. 
1 passed across and entered a large, well-furnish¬ 
ed room which had three rows of telephones ex¬ 
tending completely around It. I made known my 
desire to the young man In attendance, and he 
directed me to a telephone a little apart from the 
rest, before which a large easy chair was placed. 
He took up a funnel-shaped Instrument, aud 
placed 11 b large end against the telephone’s disk, 
wmch it just covered, and spoke through It the 
address of Mr. Flyter very distinctly, in about 
half a minute an answer was returned, when he 
gave the condex—I believe he caUed It, Into my 
hand, and told me to apply my mouth to It when I 
wished to speak, and my ear. when I wished to 
hear. 
I accordingly sat down In the easy chair and in. 
troduced my telephonic conversation by inquiring 
If Mr. Flyter was at home. That gentleman soon 
made his presence known at the other end of the 
line. Ho expressed great relief and happiness at 
learning of iny safety, and showed the kindly In¬ 
terest which he relt in me by frequent exclama¬ 
tions of pleasure or condolence as I recounted to 
him my experiences since l left his store In the 
morning. Being unskillful in conversing by tele¬ 
phone, 1 received most of these exclamations in 
my mouth instead of my ear, which startled me 
not a little on several occasions, so that twice the 
condex nearly dropped from my hand. 
Our conversation ended with the proposition 
from Mr. Flyter that. I should await his corning In 
the evening, and accompany him to their social 
entertainments In the park. He had Just finished 
dinner, he said, and was about to set out for hls 
store, where he would be occupied from six to 
3even. and would then come to rne at my hotel. 
While T was engaged at my conversation with 
Mr. Flyter, several communications came In 
which were received by the young man In attend¬ 
ance from ODe telephone, and sent, out by another, 
My curiosity concerning this telephone business 
was of course, great; for from appearances It was 
much more extensive than was ever dreamed of 
In my own country. I, therefore, put. several ques¬ 
tions to the operator, and learned from him that 
the telephones which T saw about the room were 
each connected with a different ward ot the city, 
except the four next me which were connected 
with the four quarters of the ward I was in. There 
was one hotel in every ward, and In everr hotel 
there was a telephone room exactly like the one I 
was in, with a telephone for every ward, and four 
for the ward in which It was situated. If a person 
In the twentieth ward wished to communicate 
with one in the thirtieth, he would go to the tele¬ 
phone office In hls ward and direct, the operator to 
"call” the operator of the thirtieth. This was 
effected by an electric current, which, connected 
with the telephone numbered 2ft, Indicated the 
telephone with the corresponding number in the 
office of the thirtieth ward. The operator then 
connected the telephone numbered 20 with that of 
the four belonging to hls own ward through which 
communication was desired, and the person in the 
twentieth ward could talk to hls friend In the 
thirtieth as readily as though he were In the same 
ward. If the communication was short, and of 
little importance, the operator himself received 
and transmitted It. 
What surprised me more than anything else 
about these telephones was the privacy with 
which messages could be sent. Though there was 
a telephone In every house In the city, yet a con¬ 
versation could he carried on by rwo friends how¬ 
ever widely separated, with as much secrecy as It 
they were sitting by the same fireside. 
The manner of Insulating any particular house 
was explained to me by the operator, and he said 
that the operation was most complete and easily 
accomplished, but 1 confess that I could not get a 
clear enough Idea of It to ex plum tr intelligibly. 
I told this very pleasant young man of my mis¬ 
fortune In losing my purse, and requested that 
hls charge for the use of the telephone might lie 
put In with my ho'el bill, which I hoped to be able 
to pay by the recovery of my purse. But he replied 
that there was never any charge made for the use 
of telephones in the city. They were for the con¬ 
venience of the public, and were free to all. As 
to my purse, he said that he would be able to get 
me Information about It tn a tew minutes, when 
the flndlug-offic^a should open. 
I accordingly retired to await the hour of six, 
which was close at. hand. 
Shortly after that, hour had struck I again en¬ 
tered the telephone office, and was greeted by the 
operator with the veiy agreeable Information that 
mypuraehad beeu found and was awaiting my 
demand. He had telephoned the finding office of 
the ward, and had learned from It that a queer 
looking purse with queer looking coin and paper 
money In it had been reported by the manager of 
Phlllgomotor number 76. it bad been found un¬ 
der (he seats when the car had reached its termi¬ 
nus, and the manager of the car, remembering 
that an odd looking stranger had been severely 
Jostled during the trip, conjectured that the purse 
might have escaped from hls pocket on that occa¬ 
sion, and had accordingly returned It to the find¬ 
ing office ot tne ward In which the stranger's mis¬ 
hap had occurred. This was three wards away, 
hut the operator gave me the directions necessary 
for finding the office in question, and within half 
an hour l had returned to the hotel with my purse 
in my pocket. 
I offered to pay tne director or the office tn which 
my purse had been found for the service which 
had been rendered me, but he said that the find¬ 
ing offices were a city institution, and were free to 
all. I then Inquired for the conductor or man¬ 
ager of phlllgomotor No. 76, that I might reward 
him for his honesty. But the man regarded me 
with the air of superior complaisance with which 
a good natured inhabitant of the town Is apt to 
look upon a green rustic, and politely Informed 
me that It was not the conductor who had tound 
the purse, but the boy whose business It was to 
sweep out the cars at the end ot tne line. But 
even he would feel as much degraded by the offer 
ot a reward for such a simple service, as any gen¬ 
tleman would for restoring to a lady a lost hand¬ 
kerchief. 
MAGAZINES FOR MARCH. 
Thk Domestic Monthly; Atlantic Monthly; Scrib¬ 
ner’s Monthly ; The American Naturalist; Llppln- 
cott’s Magazine; North American Review; Godey’s 
Lady’s Book; St. Nicholas for March.; Appleton’s 
Magazine; Phrenological Journal. 
The above periodicals have been received. The 
demand for space having caused delay In notice, 
we briefly mention receipt, with the comment of 
usual merit In their production. 
• — ■» * ♦ . . 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
Counsel to Parents, ou the Moral Education of 
Their children. By Du. Elizabeth Blackwell 
New York Breutano’s Literary Emporium. Cloth 
$1.00; Barter cover,ao cents. 
The author of this volume enjoys a wide reputa¬ 
tion, so much so that the mere mention of her 
name in connection with a literary production 
serves to recommend a perusal. 
Forcible argument Is used to inspire parents 
with a sense or duty in this important field of edu¬ 
cation. Parents having the subject of true health 
and happiness of their children, and the good of 
aU humanity at heart, will profit by the counsel 
