AU8, 44 
THE RURAL HEW- YORKER. 
Saratoga- A True Story of 1787. fCloth. Price 
fl.) Philadelphia : T. B. Peterson & Bros. 
This Is one or the “ Peterson’s Dollar Series or 
Good Novels,” which are Issued In very attractive 
form. This story carries the reader hack to the 
time when It was not quite so safe to visit Sara¬ 
toga as It is now. The story Is exciting, and will 
repay perusal. 
Aui-nrn Flnvd. Br Miss M. E. BRAnnoitf. Phlla. 
delphta: T. B. Peterson & Bros. Price 75 cts. 
This Is n reprint of Miss Bkadpon's thrilling 
love story. It Is to* well known to require ex¬ 
tended mention. Its price now puts It within the 
reach of all. 
ITEMS. 
We are In receipt of the Catalogue of the Illin¬ 
ois Industrial University of Urbana Champaign 
Co., Ills., showing 3.96 students, for the past year. 
In all the departments special and regular. This 
prosperous University was chartered In February, 
1967, and opened in March, 1869. Tn addition to 
the endowment received from the land grant by 
the government of 490,ooo acres, over ftoo.ooo were 
donated by Champaign County In bonds, build¬ 
ings and farms. The Slate has also made largo 
appropriations for buildings, library and for 
stocking the farm. 
Our Interest naturally centers In the schools of 
Agriculture and Horticulture. The first offers 
the exceptional advantages of a on# year's course 
of study for young farmers and others who would 
not—could not, perhaps—avail themselves of tho 
advantage of t he full course. Its aim Is to offer 
the facilities of un education In sclentlllc agricul¬ 
ture, an aim so egreglously and persistently mis¬ 
understood as in induce the following remarks In 
the catalogue : Many, who look upon agriculture 
as consisting merely in the manual work of plow¬ 
ing, planting, cultivating and harvesting, and In 
the care of stock, Justly rldlculo the idea of teach¬ 
ing these arts in a college. The practical farmer 
who has spent Ids life in farm labors, laughs at 
the notion of sending his son to learn these from 
a set of scientific professors. But all of this Im¬ 
plies a gross misunderstanding of the real object 
of agricultural science. It Is not simply to teach 
how to plow, but the reason for plowing at all— 
to teach the composition and nature of soils, the 
philosophy of plowing, of manures, and the adap¬ 
tation of tho different soils to different crops and 
cultures. It Is not simply to teach how to feed, 
but to show the composition, action aud value of 
the several kinds of tood, and the laws of feeding, 
fattening, and healthful growth. In short, It Is 
tho aim of the true Agricultural College to enable 
the student to understand thoroughly and pro¬ 
foundly, nil that man can know about soils and 
seeds, plants and animals, and the Influences of 
light, heat, and moisture on Lls fields, his crops, 
and his stock; so that, he may both understand 
the reason of the processes he uses, and may In¬ 
telligently work for the Improvement of those 
processes. 
The aim of the school of Horticulture la to afford 
a scientific and practical education specially 
adapted to the wants of those who cultivate gar¬ 
den and orchard plants, or wish to manage nur¬ 
series, parks and pleasure grounds. 
There are other schools— Mechanical, Civil and 
Mining Engineering, Architecture, Military 
Science, Natural Science, Literature and Science, 
to which space forbids further reference. 
Tuition In all the University classes Is free 
and the other expenses, such as matricu¬ 
lation fee, room rent and the like are a 
mere trifle. It Is highly gratifying to know that 
r. college of its scope, means, and life Is meeting 
with an increasing If not a due appreciation. 
The leading article in the August number of 
The American Naturalist is an exceedingly pun¬ 
gent address on Catastrophlsm and Evolution, by 
Clarence King, who treats the subject with ani¬ 
mation and force. Both evolutionists and their 
opponents will read the article with interest, 
Samuel Calvin follows with a paper on Changes 
of Habit among Woodpeckers, and tt. E. C. Stearns 
makes some comments on a previous paper by F. 
B. Bather on Aboriginal Shell Ornaments. A fish 
which bears the droll name of the Long-Jawed 
Goby is scientifically hashed by W. N. Locklngton, 
and from Andrew Murray’s work on Economic 
Entomology is given some curious facts respect¬ 
ing The Museum Mite. The same work is re¬ 
viewed In Recent Literature, whloh also contains 
a notice of Baird’s Annual Record. There art- 
very full notes, especially In the deparrments of 
Botany and Zoology, and an unusual amount of 
bclentiflo News. The number is of great variety, 
n. o. Houghton £ Co., Boston, are the publishers. 
A New Journal.— The American Mall and 
Exporc Journal Is “ a monthly devoted to the 
American Export Trade,” and Is published by 
Howard Lockwood, 74 Duane Street, New York. 
We feel all of the timidity of addressing a stran¬ 
ger when we speak of our export trade (?), but at 
any rate said trade Is well represented by the 
Journal in question, aud Its Influence in fustertng 
und promoting the growth of our foreign commer¬ 
cial relations must be a potent one. The Journal 
Is produced tn a style that characterizes all of Mr. 
lock wood's publications. The type, paper and 
prosswork are beyond what la imagined when 
speaking of a trade paper. 
Judging from the numerous cards in the current 
Jasue (tne second number), and the character of 
the Arms represented In Its columns, It Is clearly 
to be seen that the Export Journal meets and Alls 
a want. To wish it success would be supererog¬ 
atory. 
FOR A WOMAN’S SAKE. 
BY MRS. HATTIE F, BELL. 
JTkr face scorned too pure to be wicked, I know. 
Her lips were too sweet to deal treachery and woo; 
But themtlstCftt voice rimrs out silvery and clear, 
Aud falls with soft cadence on love’s wilHriw ear. 
’’ See. how tt sparkle* with crimson wealth! 
Won’t you please mo now, uiul drink to tny health? 
So richly ’tia glowinsr with color so bright. 
So full of ita crystal and ruby light— 
Take Just one srloss for uio, to-night.” 
The tone was sweet, and the face was fair 
Of the tempter who stood in her beauty there; 
And the hand that offered the fatal glass, 
Was very shapely and white, alas! 
Were tho tono less sweet, and tho hand less white, 
That soul hail not fallen so low that night. 
But the stout heart falls, and the strong hands shake, 
And the cold, pale lips the sllonco break- 
“I’U take it this onco, ror a woman’s sake." 
’’For a woman’s sake!” Ah me! ah mo! 
Gould that woman look thro* lh*.* years, aud see 
W hat a blight she has cast over that one young life, 
IVhat a blasting of hopes, what struggles aud strife 
Have grown from that glass so thoughtlessly given; 
Could she know how far -he has led him from Heaven. 
Would not her poor heart shudder and ache. 
As she thought of tho prlee of a soul at stake 
That is tempted to sin," For a woman’s sake." 
**For a woman’s sake!" Ah me! ah mo! 
That ever a mortal man should bo 
So pleased with a bright and witching face, 
With dazzling eyes, or a form of grace, 
To forget to be honest, forget to be true 
To Gon and himself, a whole lifetime thro’! 
But there’s many a one has been lured by this wile, 
And many a manhood turned downward to guile. 
For heeding, too dearly, a fair woman’s smile. 
0, sisters dear, let ns pause and think. 
Ere wo venture upon the treacherous brink 
That spans tlie way to a world ol’ woe; 
Let us think how far our sniile« may go 
Toward winning to right, or tempting to wrong. 
And let ns remember, our whole life long. 
That our Influence lives thro’ long, long years; 
That it leads to gladness, or bitter tears. 
And e’en to Eternity, ne’er disappears. 
O, brothers brave, be strong, he strong, 
And when the tempter shall »iug her song. 
When you bow to the flash of a fall- woman’s eye. 
Remember the One who looks down from on high ; 
Tho’ the cup be offered by fair hands white, 
Look not on the wine when Ua color is bright. 
Be firm, and think of the step you take— 
0. think, lu the end, how your heart will ache!, 
Don’t sell your soul “ For a woman’s sake!" 
INotk—T his poem appeared in our Issue of July 21; 
but wc took tho liberty to correct the meter, and iu cor¬ 
recting It so as to make It read smoothly, altered It be- 
youd the writer's recognition. As altered, she says, 
“His not my production.” We therefore, print the 
original poem verbatim—Eon. l 
ALICE AND PHOEBE CARY. 
Ir we were asked to name two American 
women that, wo would choose as patterns for the 
rising generation of womanhood, we should 
without hesitation name Alice aud Phoebe 
Uarv. 
There have been women of deeper thought, 
broader Intellect, greater originality, more spark¬ 
ling wit; but none kinder, gentler, more filled 
with true Christian charily, as described by the 
apostolic letter writer, than were these. Their 
lives are poems, fuller and sweeter than any they 
ever wrote. Their deaths were lessons of trust, 
pat ience, fortitude and hope. 
For years past their names have been to us 
suggestive of all that 13 pure and true and good 
In humanity, and now as wc lay aside ft record of 
their lives and writings* we feel Impelled to talk 
about them with our readers. 
Among the early settlers in the Miami Valley, 
a few miles north or Cincinnati, was Robert 
Cart, who In 1814 married Elizabcth Jessup. 
Of their nine chlldreu, Alice, horn In 1820 was 
the fourth, and Phoebe, born In isz-i was the 
sLxth. Obliged to work early and Lar.e to obtain 
even the necessaries of life, their children had 
but little opportunity for education, occasional 
attendance at a district school a mile and a half 
away being all there was within their reach: but 
at home they grew up under the moral culture 
and discipline of loving and Intelligent parents. 
Near the close or her life Alice said, “ I don't 
like to think how much we are robbed of in this 
world by Just the conditions or our life. For the 
first fourteen yean* of my lire. It seemed as if 
there was actually nothing in existence hue work 
—We pined for beauty; but there was no beauty 
about our homely house but that which nature 
gave us—we hungered and thirsted tor knowl¬ 
edge—but there wa3 not a dozen books on our 
family shelf, nor a library within our reach.”— 
But what opportunities they had they eagerly 
embraced—what there was to read, was read 
thoroughly and u nderstu ndtngly. study to them 
was a pleasure not a task, and they hungered 
tor more than Ibey could get. 
At an early age Alice and Phoebe began to 
put their thoughts Into rhyme, aud Phoebe was 
but fourteen, when without the knowledge or 
any one, she Bent a bit to a Boston newspaper. 
That 11 was printed came first to her knowledge 
by seeing It reproduced Ln a Cincinnati paper. 
Their mother died In 1835. After the second 
marriage ot their father, ho moved to a new 
* The poetlcul works of Alice und Phoebe Carr 
with a memorial of their lives, by Mary Clemmer’ 
Octavo cloth, 185 pages, red lined and tinted paper 
with portruits-|3.50. Hurd & lhiughton, New York. 
house, leaving Alice and Phoebe with two broth¬ 
ers and a younger sister ln the old home. From 
this time they seemed to have had bolter oppor- 
: tunlty for Improvement, both by an Increased 
amount of reading matter, and acquaintance with 
people of culture who had come into tho neigh¬ 
borhood. Alice now began to try her ventures 
ln the literary world, where her efforts were ap¬ 
preciated sufficiently to enahle them lo appear ln 
print; but with little pecuniary compensation to 
her. In 1949, they collected such ot their poems 
as they thought worbty of preservation—and fur¬ 
nished them for publication ln a volume, for 
which they received one hundred dollars. 
With the amount so received they determined 
to make an eastern trip, during whloh they made 
the personal acquaintance of many men and 
women, who were ln after years arm friends and 
helpers. They found they were not entirely un¬ 
known, their poems having found an abiding 
place ln the hearts of many, who gladly welcomed 
the writers. 
In the autumn of tho same year—with a heart, 
full of sadness, caused by one to whom she had 
given freely and fully a lovo that was to her a 
part of herself, her soul, her very life— Alice 
came to Now York with a determined purpose to 
make for herself a home and a support. Itefer- 
Ing to tho venture later In life, she said: "Igno¬ 
rance stood me In the stead of couragp. Had I 
known the great world as 1 have, learned it, since! 
I should not have dared.” ln the next spring, 
that ot 1851 , she was Joined by Phoebe, Both 
having all the horror or boarding that homo 
loving women must, they took a few rooms in an 
unpretentious location, and set themselves at 
work. The few acquaintances they had made on 
the visit here the year before became fast 
friends, and soon the best people of the city both 
men and women, became proud of their acquaint¬ 
ance. Mr. Greeley describes one of the first of 
their receptions “ held up two night of stairs, In 
one of the loss fashionable sections of the city.” 
Here Ai ice wrote her first book, '• Clover Nook,” 
which was a success, and was followed by a sec¬ 
ond volume also a success, as were other writings 
that followed, m all eleven volumes In twenty 
years. 
While the pecuniary payment for the labor ex¬ 
pended was riot largo, by dint of economy and 
frugality, tho sisters were enabled in 1855 to re¬ 
move to a house ln Twentieth street, which was 
their homo when they died— Alice ln 1870 and 
Phoebe In 1871 . Here was Inaugurated their Sun¬ 
day evening receptions, which became famous 
because of the meeting there on a common level, 
of people of all rank, station, creed—editor, 
author, artist, clergyman, lawyer, mechaulc.no 
matter what the calling, were alike welcomed. 
Alice was the bead of the house, but It would 
have seemed an empty house without tho pres¬ 
ence of Phoebe. Differing much in their tem¬ 
perament and habit or thought and action, the 
one w«3 tlio complement or the other. Having 
never married they lived for each other, and by 
long associations, and a determination to bear 
and forbear, they became almost one life. 
We sometimes feel to regret that they never 
married. The state needs that such women 
should be mothers, aud high as we hold them In 
the scale of womanhood, their la a step still high- 
er which In their singleness It was Impossible for 
them to attain. We have said their lives were 
poems; we may also say there poems were their 
lives, for tn them we perceive their very 
thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. They gave them¬ 
selves to us in their verses. 
The sisters were burled lu beautiful Greenwood. 
No elaborate and costly monument marks their 
resting place, but the volume before us’ stands 
forth a better monument than stone or marble. 
Its preparation was a work ot love, its publica¬ 
tion a public benefaction. It will be treasured ln 
a thousand households, and the Influence for 
good of the Uvea and writings of the Cary sisters 
will live long after we are forgotton. 
--—---- 
HOW I FOOLED THE HENS. 
“Sho— o—! sho—o—!" 
It ata seem as though those hens were deter¬ 
mined to make every seed ln the garden come up 
before It had sprouted. What did they care for 
the running and shooing one’s breath away y 
Presently I returned from the barnyard with a 
handfull of long wlug and tall feathers. 
“ What ln the world are you going to make 
now?" said materramlllas, aa I sat down with 
them In my lap and began to fold a piece of 
stiff brown paper ln the shape of a large bird. 
’* Going to make a hawk.” 
“Going to make a hawk?" who ever heard e> 
3uchathlng!” 
When the paper was folded I sewed on the long 
reathera so as to resemble the spread wings and 
tall of the bird I wanted to represent. 
“ I declare,” said Janet, when it wa 3 finished, 
“ It does look like a bird of prey.” 
“Does It look like a bird? i prey," queried 
Harry, facetiously. 
I fastened a card to tne centre ot the back, so It 
would balance, tied It to the top of a long slim 
pole, stuck It Slantwise ln the ground, among the 
garden beds, and watched and walled. 
Soon old top-knot came around the corner with 
a scratching, pilfering army behind her, she was 
a famous leader ln all scratching and foraging 
expeditions, when with a passing breeze, tho 
hawk made a grand swoop and with a ka duck 1 
ka duck! ka duck 1 they Ingeniously scattered, 
skulked and hid. Now and then a venturesome 
pullet would reach the borders or the iorbldden 
ground but a dash of the “ bird of prey" w ould 
send her off with a frightened scream. 
“Bravo!” exclaimed Harry, “’tls a ‘hawk,’ 
sure enough ! I wonder If they wouldn’t he good 
to put up ln the corn and wheat fields to keep 
the hens and crows off?” 
“ of course they would, only Instead of putting 
them on a pole 1 should run a lino across the field 
and suspend them from that." 
“Well, now that'd be lust the ‘ checker,’an 
I’m goln'to try It, right off In that, lot back o’ the 
bhrfi-” Geraldine Germane. 
-♦- 
TO MOTHERS. 
The Mother’s self-denlal3, so faithfully and 
touchingly depicted in the Rural's clippings, 
entitled “Common Things,” brings up i,ho ques¬ 
tion as to how far such unselfishness Is meritori¬ 
ous and praiseworthy. That it is common and 
widespread, Is true; that it, Is almost sublime 
when considered lu Itself, la eqally true; bur, 
when we consider the effect or tt upun the those 
who practice it until the “ chair U vacant,” do 
we not see It is a species of suicide? and that in 
reality i Us not a blessing to those about her, In 
that, It deprives them of her presence and her 
gul.l mccat just the time, perhaps, when she Is 
most needed to guide her flock across the bridge, 
so iraugbr, with danger, which lies between chlld- 
h iod and maturer years. Then, too, It is not a 
Uesslng either to her companion or her children, 
In that, It, cultivates a selfishness In them which 
Is a complete offset to her self-abnegation. They 
thought lessly accept her devotion and by It, tho 
growth of this same ennobling trait Is prevented 
ln themselves; and In rnanyla case It, develops Into 
abject slavery on the part, of her who [should be 
the most tenderly watched and cared for, while 
In all the rest, the husband not, excepted, Is 
engendered an utter disregard of her enjoyment 
or sufferings, and of ttlmes an overbearing lordli¬ 
ness toward her that Is anything but creditable 
or Christian- Let mothers reflect upon It, and 
consider whether they have a right to practice 
even a vlrtuo, t,o their own physical Injury, or 
the moral degradation of their families. 
Mrs. E. P. Miller. 
-- 4-*~4 - 
A WAIL. 
What has become of our enterprise ladles ? I 
look at our young neighbors In the next column 
and see what, royal times they have, while we 
pokey older people, content oursolvos with read¬ 
ing what Is placed before us, (and It Is good ;) but 
don't even take the trouble to smack our literary 
Ups and say so! 
Now why can’t wo have a little excitement of 
our own ? There must be originality In our ranks. 
Occasionally May Maple brightens our columns, 
and sets an excellent example, but we seem 
to be content to admire the example without 
following it. For my part I like to see what 
Uurallats have to to say, and if T am too dull to 
write anything worth reading, myself, still I am 
an excellent audience. I see Free Lance has 
met a foeman worthy or his steel. Unless he an¬ 
swers right quickly, 1 shall begin to think he has 
seen his error, and Is now a believer In the feath¬ 
er bed. But 1 shall run on Indefinitely without 
serving any purpose, when all I care to say Is, sis¬ 
ters, write! and let us have a corner tn which 
each week we can have a confidential chat. 
Flossy. 
- - - 
A LADY IN A SMOKING CAR. 
Lovely woman has asserted her Inalienable 
right to ride ln a smoking car and enjoy her cigar 
like a man. Not, long ago, a lady, well-dressed and 
not particularly coarse-looklpg, got on the river 
train, between Sc. Paul and Hastings, and 
tnu rched Into the smoking car. The editor of the 
Rochester Herald courteously suggested that she 
might find It, unpleasant to ride ln the gentle¬ 
men’s car. “ How selfish these men are,” was 
the retort. " They never want, a lady to enjoy 
what they do themselves.” Then seating herself 
at her ease by an open window, she drew from a 
neat little case a cigar, and soon was puffing 
away with a tranquil expression on her face. A 
man who had been drinking considerable beer 
sat down beside her, rolled up his coat sleeves, 
bit off the end of a cigar, and asked her for a light. 
She gave him a match, and Interested herself in 
the scenery. Her fellow traveler now sought to 
entertain her with a few remarks on the weather, 
brands of cigars, business prospects and other 
matters. Lovely woman reel back Ln good order 
upon her dignity, “ You are getting Impertinent, 
sir. It Is none of your business where I am from, 
or where I am going to. I have the same right 
to sit here that you have, and If you don’t behave 
yourself, I shall speak to the conductor.” 
•-♦ 
BE NEAT. 
Young ladies, if they only knew how disgusting 
to men slovenliness is, and how attractive are 
displays of neatness and taste, would array them¬ 
selves lu the simplicity and cleanliness of the 
lilies of the field: or, ir able to ludulgo in costly 
attire, they would study the harmonious blending 
of colors which nature exhibits in all her works. 
A girl of good taste and habits of neatness, can 
make a more fascinating toilet with a shilling 
calico dress, a few cheap ribbons and laces, and 
such ornaments as she can gather from the gar¬ 
den, thau a vulgar, tawdry creature who is worth 
thousands, and has the Jewelry and wardrobe of 
a princess. 
- 4 » 4 - 
A young lady named Mile. Anna Dahms, has 
Just passed a medical examination before the 
Paris Faculty, with all the honors. This is a very 
rare occurrence in France. 
IfetL__ 
