APR3L 27 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
“ I came to see how you bore your honors. Rave 
they brought you much happiness?” 
“As much as I expected they would,” answer¬ 
ed Dolores. “ Please stop—I am tired.” 
“ It Is nice and cool on the terrace—will you 
come?" 
Side by side they stood In the soft dusky night, 
Brian was the first to speak. 
“ Tou don’t look happy, Dolores.” 
" Don’t l ?”—with a little nervous laugh. Re 
laid his hand ou the small one that trembled so 
sadly on Ills arm. 
“And yet you have everything to make you 
happy." 
Dolores, looking up wistfully at him In the 
gloom, returned, with a little catch In her voice, 
“Why do you talk of these things ?” 
lie looked down at her and said, almost sternly, 
trying to shake tho calmness of the white up¬ 
turned face— 
" I am going to try lire In the New World. I 
don't suppose I shall ever see you again. May I 
ask you one quest ion, Dolores V 
“Yes,” was the brief reply; and Dolores, slip¬ 
ping her hand from his arm, leaned against the 
marble balustrade and waited for him to speak. 
“ Why did you not marry sir Frederick 
Tempest? I mean, what was your true, real 
reason?" 
“1 did not care for him," replied Dolores, sim¬ 
ply. 
Brian laughed a laugh not pleasant to hear. 
“ Why not ? Who thinks of caring when money 
and title are concerned ?” 
“ You have changed your opinion then," said 
Dolores, her voice betraying more than her 
words. 
“ I have not,” was the firm rejoinder, “ 1 was 
only quoting the world’s opinion. But why could 
you not care for Sir Frederick?'’ Though he 
could not see her face, Dolores put up one hand 
quickly to shield It from him. “Do you care 
tor any one else?” he asked, in the same hard 
voice lie had used all through; and Dolores ans¬ 
wered, wiLh a buret or weeping— 
“ Yea;" and then, low aud. passionately she 
added, “Oh, why will you make ua both misera¬ 
ble 7" 
tie grasped her wrist Uglily, speaking hard 
cruel words. 
“ And you fell me this—me of all men, whom 
you have made the most miserable on earth I 
Well, good-bye! You Know now what It Is to 
feel as l have felt lor three long years. I am go¬ 
ing now. Good-bye forever I" 
With a cry Dolores held out her hands. 
“ Brian, Brian, why will you be so blind 7 ” He 
turned and caught, her hands In his, 
“ Dolores, do you mean this?" he asked, feeling 
as If his whole life hung upon her answer. “ You 
said you cared for somebody else." 
“ 1 have never cared for any one but youshe 
sobbed. “Amt, oil, Brian, 1 couldn’t let, you go 
away when you were too proud to speak I" And, 
as Brian held her tightly to Ills heart, lie whis¬ 
pered— 
“Nothing hut death shall come between us 
now, darling I” 
Peopleaud that Brian Mannerlng was alucky 
man, but no one but himself and Dolores ever 
knew upon what a mero chance their life’s hap¬ 
piness had hung. In after lire thev used to laugh 
and say they owed a good deal to Mrs. HaycroIFs 
ball. 
- 
A FEW FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS 
Not Found in the Bible, Shakespeare, Pope, 
or Hudibras. 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
Bv flowers, understand faith; by fruit, good 
works. As the flower or blossom Is before the 
fruit, so Is faith before good works; so neither Is 
the fruit without the flower, nor good works 
without food .—Quarles. 
The new French life-saving mattress Is highly 
commended. It Is formed of two rows of blocks 
made of cork cuttings, lightly compressed by ma¬ 
chinery within a waterproof case, and the whole 
covered with canvass, It forma, ordinarily, a 
mattress, which Is Intended to be placed In every 
cot or berth, and makes a bed which Is said to he 
very elastic and easy to lie upon. Its weight Is 
about six pounds, and It, is constructed In such a 
manner that It can be quickly put about the per¬ 
son, forming then a double belt, and attached In 
such a way that It cannot possibly be displaced 
by the winds or waves. 
Shamot skins are, as every one knows, largely 
usod for many purposes—for Inside llulngs of 
gloves, etc., and for cleaning purposes In many 
departments. It Is not derived from the skin of 
the chamois, as Is sometimes Ignorantly supposed 
from the sound of the name, which results from 
the process, but from the flesh side of the sheep¬ 
skins which have boon split. Tha skins, after 
having been passed In the ordinary way through 
tho earlier processes of washing, eto„ are soaked, 
flrst lu lime-water and next In a mixture of bran 
and water, or In a weak solution of sulphuric 
acid, arter which they are beaten In a mill till no 
moisture remains In thorn. Flsb-oll la then 
poured over the skins, which are again beaten 
till they are thoroughly impregnated with It. 
This is done over and over again until the skins 
can receive no more oil, and then they are bung 
for a snort, time In a room heated up to a certain 
temperature. They are then carefully washed in 
a solution of potash, which removes auy oil that 
may still remain about the leather; and thus we 
have the shamoy Bklu of dally use .—Good IFords 
TO MRS. n. 
BJjAck thy dress is as tho glnoflng 
Shadows on our parting night; 
Black thine eyes are us tho dancing 
Lakelet in tho full moon's light; 
Black tby looks are as tho shitting 
Branches of tho chestnut tree. 
Through whose leaves, the moonbeams sifting, 
Quivered o'er thee, Mrs. B. 
Witching is tho maiden's shy glance 
To the youth of (softer heart; 
But the magic arming thy glance 
Surely is the true black art.. 
Luckless he who feels its slightest 
Touch ; lie has no power to flee. 
Blackest cloncls flash lightnings brightest; 
Thine have pierced me, Mrs, B. 
Masked thy batteries are by lonely 
Bombazine and dusky crape; 
When we find they ’re hidden only,— 
Ah, ’t ts too late to escape. 
Crafts that sail ’nenth colors sable 
Give no quarter to their prey. 
Mrs. B., how wast thou able 
So to pluok my heart away ? [4. s. T. 
Music hat li charms to soothe a savage breast.— 
—Congreve's Mournin'/ Brule. 
lb'll hath no fury Hkea woman scorned.— lb. 
Sim walks the waters like a thing of life.—By¬ 
ron's Corsair. 
now happy could 1 be with either, were ’tother 
dear charmer away .—The Beggar's Opera. 
Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless 
thousands mourn.— Burns. 
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.—Burns' 
Tam O'Shantcr. 
' Plasweet to hear the watch-dog’s honest hark 
haj deep-mouthed welcome as wo draw near 
home.— Byron's Bon Juan. 
Between two world’s life hovers like a star upon 
the horizon’s verge.— lb. 
’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,— 
Campbell's Measures of Hope. 
Like angeLs’ visits, few aud far between.—/!). 
ms back to the field and his feet to the foe.— 
Campbell. 
Procrastination is tho thief of time.— Young's 
Night Thoughts. 
A glided halo hovering round decay.— Byron's 
Giaour. 
They also serve who only stand and wait.— 
Milton. 
The stern Joy which warrior's feel lu foemen 
worthy of their steel.— Scott's Lady or the Lake. 
A Uttle round, fat, oily man or God.— Thomson's 
Castle of Indolence. 
ills pity gave ere charity began.— Goldsmith's 
Deserted Tillage. 
Even his fallings leaned to virtue's side.— lb. 
To party gave up what was meant lor man- 
klM.— GolOsmUh's Retaliation. 
To point a moral or attorn a tale.—Johnson’s 
vanity of Human Wishes. 
A little hebch of needless bishops here, and 
there a chancellor ln embryo.— Shensione's School¬ 
mistress. 
Made a sunshine In a Bhady place.— Spenser's 
facne Queens, 
Airy tongues that syllable men’s names.— Mil- 
ton's Mask ol Comus. 
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean. 
—Coleridge's Ancient Mariner. 
God tempers tha wind to tho shorn lamb.— 
Sterne's Sentimental Journey. 
A flower of meekness ou a stem of grace.— 
Montgomery's World Before the Flood. 
Tls not in mortilB to command success; wo’ll 
do more, deserve It.—Addison’s Cato. 
Like Dead Hca fruit that tempts tho eye, but 
turns to ashes on the Ups —Moore's Latin Room. 
Coming events cast their shadows before.— 
Campbell, 
as a marriage bell. 
Ail went merry 
Chi l/le Harold. 
Where youth and pleasure meet to cha 
glowing hours with flying feet.— lb. 
During tho winter evenings, when the children 
were engaged with their lessons, our tamo rat, 
Billy, was usually to he fouud on the table rum¬ 
maging among their books aud catching at then- 
pens; which latter amusement lie enjoyed very 
much after tho manner of a kitten ruuntng after 
a knitting-needle drawn quickly up and down the 
table, hut as those amusements rather Interfered 
with the studies, Billy would occasionally bo dis¬ 
missed to the kitchen, to which he had a groat 
dislike. He never stayed there longer than ho 
could help, but on the llrat chance would rush up 
stairs and scratch, or rather, I should say, gnaw 
for admittance. Speaking of this gnawing leads 
me to observe that oueobjection 1 had to receiv¬ 
ing him was the fear that he would be very mis¬ 
chievous; hut fortunately l never found him so. 
lie had free access to a pantry where ft variety of 
eatables, usually considered dear to a rat's heart, 
were to be found, but l never know him to Injure 
anything, or even to cut the paper covering of 
any parcel, no matter what It contained. No 
doubt H was partly owing to his being so well fed 
that ho was not driven to theft by hunger. I 
generally scattered ror him on the shelves some 
grains of rice or pieces of starch, and to those he 
helped himself when Inclined. From soap or 
candles ho turned away in dlRgust, being far too 
well-bred a rat to Indulge in Buoh low tastes; 
but be dearly loved a bit of plum-cake; and, 
shall I confess It, he was by no means a teeto¬ 
taler. If alo was used at dinner, ho would rush 
eagerly about the glasses until he was supplied 
with some la it spoon, i bollove, before ho came 
to us, lio had been accustomed to even stronger 
potations, In which, however, we did not Indulge 
him. 1 have said he was not mischievous, neither 
was he, as mischief among rats la generally 
understood; but there is no rule wtthout excep¬ 
tion, and Billy had a decided penchant for kid 
gloves, if any were left carelessly about he was 
sure to get hold of them and have the Ungers 
eaten off in a few mluutcs. I cannot tell how 
many gloves he destroyed, until repeated lessons 
of this sort enforced more steady habits. I must 
not omit to mention tots love of music; when he 
heard the piano ho would rush to the drawing¬ 
room and spring to the performer's knees, where 
he would remain perfectly quiet, evidently 
listening with much pleasure. When toe flrst 
came ho was very restless, seeming to live in a 
state Of perpetual motion, but ho soon learned 
to coma upon the knee to be caressed aud have 
his head rubbed, which operation afforded him 
Intense enjoyment, lie would have lam lu 
supreme delight for an hour If anyone would have 
rubbed his head for so long.—Chamber's Journal. 
.CONDUCTED BY MISS FAITH RIPLEY. 
ROCK OF AGES. 
F. L. STANTON. 
" Rock of Ages deft for me, 
Let me hide myself in thee!’ 
SanK the lady, soft and low, 
Aud her voioe’e gentle flow 
Rose upon the evening air 
With that sweet and solemn pray? . 
“ Rock of Ages, deft, for me. 
Let me hide myself in thee!’’ 
Yet she ssdk as oft she had 
When her heart was gay and Kind, 
Sang- because she felt alone, 
Sausr because her soul had ktowh 
W eary with the tedious day; 
SanK to while the hours away, 
" Rock of Akss, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in thee!" 
Where the fitful KasliKht falls 
On her father’s massive walla. 
On the chill and silent street 
Where the lights and shadows meet. 
There the lady’B voice was heard. 
As the breath of night was stirred 
With her tones so sweet and clear, 
Wafting up to God that prayer: 
" Rock of Ages, deft for me, 
Let. me hide myself in thee!" 
Wandering, homeless thro' the night, 
Praying for the morning light. 
Pale and haggard, wan and weak, 
With sunken eye and hollow cheek 
W’ent a woman, one whOBe life 
Had been wrecked in sin and strife; 
Oue, a lost and only child, 
Oue by sin and shame defiled; 
And her heart with sorrow wrung, 
Heard the lady when she sung, 
“ Rock of Ages, cleft for me. 
Let me hide myself in thee !" 
Pausing, low her bead she bent. 
And the music as it went 
Pierced her blackened soul, and brought 
Back to her (as lost in thought 
Tremblingly she stood) the past. 
And tho burning tears fell fast, 
As she called to mind the days 
When she walked in virtue’s wayB. 
When she sang that very song 
With no sense of sin or wrong; 
" Rock of Ages, cleft for me. 
Let tne hide myself in thee !” 
On tho marble stei»s she knelt. 
And her aotil that moment felt 
More than she could speak, as there 
Quivering, moved her lips in prayer. 
And the God she had forgot 
Smiled upon her lonely lot; 
Heard her as she murmured oft. 
With an accent sweet aud soft, 
" Rock of Ages, cleft for me. 
Let me hide myself in thee!” 
I 
kittle knew the lady fair. 
As she hung in silence there. 
That her voice had pierced a soul 
That had lived 'nealli sin's control! 
Little knew, when she had done. 
That a lost and erring on# 
Heard her—as she breathed that strain— 
And returned to God again ! 
- ♦ - 
A WOMAN S HOME FOR WOMEN. 
An enterprising young lady In New York has 
conceived the Idea of providing a home for busi¬ 
ness women, where they will not only be pro¬ 
vided with the comforts of a home, but where a 
woman’s self-repect will uot be Insulted by strin¬ 
gent rules. The iQdlguatlon created among wo¬ 
men by the regulations adapted at Stewart’s Ho¬ 
tel shows how keenly the Indignity cast on them 
by the restrictions there enforced Is felt, and 
women will doubtless promptly avail themselves 
of this opportunity to obtain, uot only good ac¬ 
commodations at reduced rates, but what Is little 
less important, courteous consideration. Miss 
Lkouett has very wisely decided to treat her 
guests as guests, and not as pensioners, which 
latter Is the case In most " homes.” 
We give the circular entire for the benefit of 
our rural girls or women, wbo may think of 
establishing themselves In New York. A word as 
to the projector of the enterprise. Miss Sarah 
I f. Leggett Is a lady who, to culture and reftue- 
ment and a most pleasing address, unites excel¬ 
lent business ability, and who has reaUy the good 
of women at heart. That this Is not a money¬ 
making scheme, must be patent to all, for the 
low price charged for board, and the absence of 
“ extras” preclude the possibility of there being 
“ millions in it.” We wish for the enterprise tho 
success It deserves. 
The spacious aud elegant dwelling No. «l Clin¬ 
ton Place, second door east from Fifth Avenue, 
has been rented by Miss Sarah H. Legoeit, wbo 
proposes to open it as a Boarding-house for youug 
Business Women. 
Her desire to provide a home tor this deserving 
class or society, where every attention shall bo 
paid to the comfort, of the Inmates, and where 
they will enjoy every social advantage without 
being subjected to any other realraUit than those 
which are necessary to every well-regulated 
household. 
The entire building him been thoroughly paint¬ 
ed and repaired, aud will he ready for the recep¬ 
tion of guests April loth. 
Meanwhile, appUcatlons for rooms and all in¬ 
quiries may be addressed to the housekeeper, who 
will be on the premises after Saturday, April 6th. 
The meals will he of the best qualify, well 
271 
cooked, and nicely served, and at hours to suit 
the convenience of all. 
Sewing machines will also be provided for the 
u|se of the Inma tes. 
Board, Including use of the bath-rooms, parlors, 
library, piano, and every privilege of the house, 
will be $4 per week. 
The library will be furnished with t.he best 
reading matter, and also with the leading period¬ 
icals and Journals, which have been generously 
contributed by the publishers of New York. 
If any lady desires to toavo a room alone, an ex¬ 
tra but very moderate charge will be made. 
IncaseB of sickness, meals will be served In the 
rooms, and attendance provided, without extra 
charge. 
As the object of the founder is to establish a 
really home-Uke home for herself and guests, no 
element, will be Introduced which will not be In 
sympathy with trades-working and business 
women. 
It further particulars a re desired, missLbogett 
will be happy to see her Mends, aud answer all 
Inquiries, either at her book and stationary store, 
No. 1184 Broadway, between 28th and 29th 
Streets, where she Is occupied during the day, or 
at her residence, No. 61 Clinton Place, during the 
evening. 
References will, of course, he required. 
References given : Mr. Peter Cooper and Mr. 
W1i,liam Cullen Bryant. 
« ♦♦- 
MEN’S PART IN HOME-MAKING. 
Most of the preachments we have seen rrom 
the text of happy homes have been aimed at the 
women. This Is natural enough, for they are the 
home-makers of the world; hut Just now we de¬ 
sire to nudge tho heads of the households, and 
ask them how they are performing their responsi¬ 
ble part In the realm of home. Their forte lies In 
breathing and enjoying the atmosphere after 
somebody else has made lu-and not a few can’t 
get along and make known their authority with¬ 
out “raising a breeze” lu It. Men are too busy, 
too muchpre-ocoupied, too Impatient and thought¬ 
less, and—It must be said of some of them—too 
selfish to do their fair share of that pre-eminently 
millennial work, the creating of a happy home, 
wherein love reigns supreme, and amiability, af¬ 
fection, cheerfulness, Joy and peace arc the nat¬ 
ural conditions of family life. 
Now in certain things man has been a consti¬ 
tutional shirk rrom the time of Adam—If the sci¬ 
entific gentlemen have left ua any Adam—down 
to this day. Men will fight for their liorneH, and 
make slaves of themselves to their business to 
maintain them; but Uke the proverbial man who 
would die lor a woman, but would never bring up 
a scuttlo of coal, they can’t tell wbat their chil¬ 
dren arc studying at school, who their mates are, 
what they are learning of good or evil, nor hardly 
anything else that a father ought to know con¬ 
cerning Ills offspring. It la so sad a fact as to 
spoil the Satire, when It Is said that many a rather 
finds his Sundays and holidays too few to enable 
him to “ become acquainted with hl« boys.” But 
we maintain that a man who hasn't time to be a 
father to his children, with all that includes, has 
no right to have any. He wrongs them, robs him¬ 
self, puts an uojust responsibility upon the moth¬ 
er, and neglects his highest duties, human and 
divine. 
There are so many ways In which a father 
may contribute to happy home-lire that It seems 
strange the number of houses should greatly ex¬ 
ceed the homes. It takes so little to make chil¬ 
dren happy at home, that It Is a wondrous pity so 
many little ones are miserable, or uneasy, or dis¬ 
contented. if tor an hour after the evening meal 
the rather should give htmsrir to ids children, 
would the mother wear out so tost, or the chil¬ 
dren he so lawless, troublesome aud uncomfort¬ 
able? Wbat a ministry tor good to both parties 
Isa papa's froUc with the babies! What an in¬ 
terest Is added to the books, the drawings, the 
games, or even the studies If the father enters 
Into them 1 
Aside rrom the children, and In homes where 
haply there are none, men still have a more direct 
part than most of them are ready to bear, lu mak¬ 
ing the dally life pleasant. We hardly need say 
that a man should set the example lor the family 
In patience, cheerfulness, courtesy, forbearance, 
and all l,lie amiable moodsanl graces that are 
the soul of home happiness, 'rut . Oft of mi u a Uo 
display all their suavity and politeness on tha 
street or at thfilr business places, and save the 
storms, and sulks, and sourness, and all the evil 
brood of dcvcUsn dispositions that t hey character¬ 
ize by the convenient euphemism of “moods”— 
well, we have our opinion of them! and if they 
will come within range, we don't mind expressing 
It privately; but we are afraid It wouldn’t look 
well In print! 
The whole irlbo of home tyrants—men who 
make the enure household revolve around them 
as the center; whose tongues are chronically 
“ furred ” In tho morning, and uerves so upset In 
the evening that the family must keep silence 
while they read and smoke; who "can t bear” 
the noise of Innocent, and natural mlrthfuluess; 
who have to b« toadied and tended and humor* d ; 
they ought all of thorn to be doutned uo pass their 
days In a shabby-genteel boarding house, without 
sight of wife or chlldron—with hash lor break¬ 
fast, warmed-over pancakes for lunch, and lean 
mackerel and ceutenntal hens tor supper, with 
the lodger overhead always learning the trom¬ 
bone and servant, girls that steal the balr-oll. 
They don’t deserve a home, and no mat* does who 
will do nothing to make It. For man’s rights do 
not include the right to all the comforts ot a home 
wtthout any of the work, or worry, or self-sacri¬ 
fice, or thoughtfulness and well-doing Incident to 
Its creation and maintenance. 
A good many men think tneyhave done their 
full duty ll they pay the bills, more or less grudg¬ 
ingly. But one might as well try to warm a room 
with a tlrc-placo aud a pair of silver-plated and¬ 
irons, and no fuel or lire, as to make a home with 
money. The money simply mokes a place for the 
home; to complete it the man must put in him¬ 
self, and the best part of himself at that,—Golden 
Rule. 
