THE RURAL. NEW-YORKER. 
JULY 20 
pairing tor % J/rattg. 
WHAT A BIRD THOUGHT. 
Said the boy, “ I’ll climb that tree. 
And bring down a neat, I know.” 
Quoth the girl. " 1 will not see 
Little birds defrauded so ! 
Cowardly their mats to take, 
And their little hearts to break, 
And their little nests to steal; 
Leave them harpy for iny sake ! 
Surely little birds can feel 1” 
Quoth the boy: “ My senses whirl; 
Until now 1 never heard 
Of the wisdom of a girl, 
Or the fccliug of a bird t 
Pretty Mrs. Solomon 
Tell me what you reckon on 
When you prate in suoh a strain; 
If I wring their necks anon 
Certaiuly they might feel pain 1" 
Quoth the girl, *" 1 watch them all, 
Making love and making fun, 
In the pretty ash-two walk. 
When my dally tusk is done ; 
In their gentle eyes I hod 
They are very fond and kind. 
Every ehange of aong or voice 
Plainly provelb to my soul 
They can suffer and rejoice.” 
And the little robin-bird 
(Nice brown-black and crimson breast) 
All the conversation heard, 
Sitting, trembling in his nest. 
•• What a world,” he cried, “ of bliss, 
Full of birds and girls were tbis ! 
Blithe we'd answer to their call; 
But a great mistake it is 
Boys were ever made at all!" 
«POCKET-MONEY FOR THE YOUNG 
PEOPLE.”—No. 10. 
STAKE MORRIS. 
I should like to tell the Rural young people 
how some youthful neighbor of mlue earned 
quite a sum of pocket-money. 
Early In the aut umu they provided themselves 
with a quantity of evergreens, Ground Pine, 
Hemlock, Spruce, etc., also white blossoms of 
Everlasting, a shrub that grows plentifully In 
New England pastures, together with the scarlet 
berries of the Bitter-Sweet, and as the holidays 
approacebd they, with the help of their elder sis¬ 
ter, made them Into the loveliest wreaths, 
crosses, crowns, anchors and stars, and sold them 
In the city for Christmas decorat Ions. Th \Y were 
the pretitest things I have ever seen for that pur¬ 
pose. 
Every day for two or three weeks, a bright- 
raced little girl and boy could be seen trudging a 
mile to the city, their baskets ladenod with these 
lovely things, returning with empty baskets 
and rull purses: and many of our homes were 
made bright all winter with specimens of their 
handi-work. I know their hearts were made 
glad with the money thus earned. 
Perhaps some one would like to know how to 
make similar ones. 
The process is simple: Make a form of a cross 
or whatever design you fancy, of thin pine or 
pasteboard, and cover It with ihe green, putting 
In the white blossoms or red berries to form an 
emblem or word. If the form Is of pasteboard, 
sew the greens to It with coarse thread; If of wood, 
tie them on. I remember some beautiful moss 
baskets and crosses with which—when I 
was one of the young people—I used to delight 
the hearts of my friends, as well as my own. 
Not the green moss that grows In the damp 
woods, but the dry moss that grows on rocks, old 
stumps and logs, and can be found on old rail- 
fences. Only a close student of this class of plant- 
life can realize the wonderful beauty that Is hid. 
den away In what appears to be only an old 
stump, or an old gray rock. These tnosseB can 
be readily peeled from the rock or wood, and 
sewed on pasteboard made Into basket form, and 
when Ailed with ferns or dowers, lorm a pretty 
ornament: or made Into a cross can be hung 
under a picture. These things, so common to 
those who live in the country, are treasures to 
those who live in the city, or to the Invalid who 
Is shut away from till forms of life and beauty 
seen In the woods and lillla. And to show that It 
is so, I append a bit of poetry written on seeing 
one of the crosses of which I have boon speaking. 
I have had It a long time and have forgotten, If I 
ever knew, from what paper I took It: 
A tiny cross 
Of soft wm>d moss. 
And ibatia all! 
And yet it bath a voice tuat speaks to me, 
Of patient faicli and holy victory— 
Faith that could triumph in Gethsemane, 
And for our sins a siulcra sufferer be, 
Upon the Cross. 
A shadowy cross 
Of soft gray moss 
Ami that is all! 
But when from sinfu, tbuughts I vain would flee, 
This little cross reproacht-a silently. 
Ah if it «aid : " Caust thou unurateful be, 
When Christ, to cleanse from sin hath died for 
thee. 
Nailed to the cross 
A little cross, 
Of velvet moss. 
And that is all' 
Yet when I’ve left my darlings with the dead, 
And storms of sorrow have swept o'er my head, 
I’ve seen this beacon orotS through tears, and said, 
” What grief He bore: 1 will be comforted, 
And bear my cross. 
Oh! tiny cross 
Of foreflt moss, 
That is not all I 
I’ll have thee ror my daih guard and guide, 
And learn of ihee to cm.qiiersin and pride; 
Thou shalt speak oil of Jesus orucifled. 
And all the burden of life's woea I’ll hide 
Beneath His cross. 
pt was taken from the “• Sabbath Reading” 
plumn of Tws Rural.—Eds.] 
ENGLISH LITERATURE FOR SCHOOL¬ 
GIRLS. 
And boys, too, If they are Interested In Litera¬ 
ture : if all their interest Is not concentrated In 
bats and balls, fishing-tackle, boating, horses, etc. 
When I was a school-girl and studied Literature 
I am sorry to say. I had a bad fashion of not study¬ 
ing It as I ought to do. When a lady a^ked me at 
what time Shakspeare lived, I could only stumble 
through several wrong guesses as to the cent ury. 
That was all owing to my negligence Id st udylng. 
Perhaps, like other foolish girls, I used to say, 
‘•Oh ! I don’t know anything about Literature; 
Miss H. la such a poor leacher,” Whenever any 
of you, my girl-readers, are about to make any 
foolish remarks of that kind, stop a moment, and 
consider whether It la poor studying or poor 
teaching which makis you a poor scholar. 
Now. it you will listen. I propose to give you 
short accounts of various popular authors. I 
don’t pnpose, however, to do all the work. 1 
shall leave a little “ guess-work ” for you to do. 
You must find out the name of the author of 
whom I write. Can you do as much as that ? 
Well, the person of whom I am going to write 
was born at Elpblo, Ireland, November 29th, 1729. 
His life was full of adventure. When only Beven 
or eight years of age he would amuse his father 
and mother with his poetical flights, but our poet 
does not seem to have been much elated at his 
success, as he threw his youthful effusions into 
the Are. He was by no means a handsome youth, 
as his body was short and thick, and hla face was 
disfigured by email-^ox. 
In 1744 -was sent to Trinity College, Dub¬ 
lin, where one day he Invited a party to a supper 
and a ball In hla rooms, which coming to the ears 
of his tutor, the latter entered the place in the 
midst of their jollity, abused tbe company, and 
administered manual correction to the host In 
their presence. This mortification had such an 
effect on the mind of the young man that he re¬ 
solved to seek his fortune In some place where he 
should be unknown. Accordingly, he sold his 
books and clothes, and left the college, but loiter¬ 
ed about the streets uutll his money was ex¬ 
hausted. With a solitary shilling In his pocket, 
he, at last, left Dublin. By abstinence, he made 
this sum last him three days, and then was 
obliged to part with the clothes on his back; In 
short, to such an extremity was he reduced, that 
a handful of peas, given him by a girl at a wake, 
was the most satisfactory repast of which he had 
ever partaken. 
Alter many adventures he found his way home 
and was sent to college. He devoted himself for 
a short time to the study of law, which was 
abandoned tor medicine. He could not make a 
living, as his generosity Impelled him to admin¬ 
ister to the wants of all who applied to him. His 
friends, If we can judge from an aneedete, had 
not much confluence In him as a physician. — 
remarking that he prescribed only tor his friends- 
someone rejoined, “ 1 would advise you to pre¬ 
scribe only for your enemies.” As he said, him¬ 
self, “ I got tew fees, although I had tew pa¬ 
tients.” 
Rererrtng to his forlorn condition, he writes :— 
“At London you can imagine what difficulties I 
had to encounter; without friends, recommenda¬ 
tions or money ; and chat in a country where be¬ 
ing born an Irishman was sufficient, to keep me 
unemployed. Many in such circumstances would 
have had recourse to the friar’s cord or the sui¬ 
cide’s halter. But with all my follies I had princi¬ 
ple to resist the one, and resolution to combat the 
other.” 
Besides poems, our author wrote novels and 
plays. We are told that In hts last journey to 
school he had an adventure which Is thought to 
have suggested hla comedy, “ She Stoops to Con¬ 
quer.” 
On his journey, when he reached the town of 
Ardagb, he inquired for the best house In the 
place, meaning the best Inn, but his informant, 
taking the question In Its literal sense, showed 
him to the house of a private gentleman, where, 
calling for some one to take his horse, our hero 
alighted and was shown Into a parlor, being sup¬ 
posed to have come on a visit to the master, whom 
he found sitting by the fire. This gentleman 
soon discovered the mistake, but being a man of 
humor he favored the deception. The Celt ordered 
a good supper, and Invited his landlord and land¬ 
lady, with their daughters, to partake of It. He 
treated them with a bottle or two of wine, and 
ordered a hot cake to be prepared for his break¬ 
fast. It was not until about to depart, and calling 
for his bin, that he discovered his mistake. In 
1769, he was engaged, at a salary of one hundred 
pounds a year, to write for The Public Ledger a 
Beries of papers. These he called “ Chinese Let¬ 
ters.” They were afterwards collected under the 
title of “The Citizen of the World.” 
The Earl of Ltsburne one day lamented — 
that he should neglect the Muses, to compile 
histories and write novels, Instead of composing 
poetry, with which he was sure to charm his 
readers. “My Lord,” replied our author, “ In 
courilDgthe Muses I should starve; but by my 
other labors I eat, clrluk, wear good clothes, and 
enjoy the luxuries of life." 
He wrote a History of England, a Roman His¬ 
tory, a History of the Earth and Animated Na¬ 
ture, a Grecian History, from the earliest state 
to the Death of Alexander the Great. When you 
visit Westminister Abbey, as you doubtless all 
hope to do, you must Bee the momumental stone 
which was erected In honor of this man, In Poet’s 
Corner, between those of Gay, and the Duke of 
Areryle. 
Now, who can tell me the name of our author, 
and also the names of some of his more popular 
works? SansSouoi. 
- »4 » 
LETTERS FROM B0Y8 AND GIRLS, 
News from Honolulu* 
Dear Uncle and Cousins How are you all? 
Quite well, I hope. But what la the reason I see 
so few letters? Surely Interest has not flagged, 
or have you my excuse, i. e., so little time? 
“ Plllkea,” as the natives say. Oh Uncle True! 
Papa has a “ Cricket,” and a veritable cricket It 
Is. Last Tuesday (the 11th) was Kamehameha 
Day, and a holiday. There were races at the 
Park and picnics In all directions, hat I attended 
neither; had company at home instead. We are 
having a splendid big shower to-day, and It. Is 
much needed, the weather and roads are so hot 
and du9ty. Our missionary brig left last week on 
her yearly trip to Mlcronlsea. Our society, the 
“Missionary Gleaners,” sent quite a large box of 
food and clothing. I had the superintendence of 
a large quilt. It was real pretty when finished, 
and much admired. To-morrow evening I hope 
to attend the last exercises of a graduating class 
from Punahou College. As the college Is a dis¬ 
tance from town the exercises will be held at 
Fort Street. Church. J had a disappointment, yes¬ 
terday. By the steamer from San Francisco I 
expected a real cousin ; owing to some delay he 
did not arrive, but we are sure that he is on his 
way. How glad I shall be to meet him; It is 
twelve years since I last saw him. Soon after 
my cousin’s arrival I expect to steam away to 
Hawaii, and while there I may be able to find 
something Interesting to tell you. As It is soon 
titno for the mall to close, 1 will also close my let¬ 
ter with much “ Aloha nul lo a " to all. 
Hawaii nki. 
In What County la Valley Forge. 
Uncle True and Cousins Will you admit me 
as one of your number ? f am a girl sixteen years 
old. I live on a farm near Evausburg, a llttl« vil¬ 
lage In northwestern Pennsylvania, on the banks 
of Conneaut Lake, which I nave heard said Is the 
largest lake In Pennsylvania. I go to school the 
greaterpnnot the time, and study the common 
English branches. 1 think I can answer “ Wild 
Cherry’s” question ; at least I can try. The word 
“ girl ” is round once In the Bible—In the book of 
Joel, in tbe third chapter and third verse. In 
what county Is Valley Forge 7 In answer to 
“ Kit’s " question 1 would say, I think novels of 
almost any kmd are Injurious to the memory. 
Perhaps you will hear from me again. Clyde. 
Evansburg, Pa. 
She is a Buckeye Ctrl. 
I am a Buckeye. Do you understand? 1 see 
the bed-qullt question has been rully discussed. 
1 only wish to say I pieced one, and knitted my¬ 
self a pair of stockings when eight years old, and 
assisted Grandma In tbe dairy too, as she lives on 
a farm. Some one has asked, through the Rural, 
what country girls can do to earn a little pocket- 
money? 1 am fearful of making this article too 
long, or I might tell of a few ways by which I 
earned several dollars. Brightie. 
Fairfield Co.. Ohio. 
[Should he glad to have you do so.]—u. t. 
®iu fugltr. 
MOUNTAINOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed or 137 letters: 
My 89, 122, 84, 17, 28, 3G, 1 G, 24, 95, 88 a mountain 
on the Isle of St. Vincent, W. I. 
My 21, 27,9, 1, 10, 36, 41, 33, 62, 31, 23, 73 a moun¬ 
tain peak of Corsica. 
My 82, 117,36, 95, 127, 86, 39, 25, 61, [15 a mountain 
peak of Ireland. 
My 29, 32, 61, 67, 4, 6, 38,18, 42 a mountain peak of 
Spain. 
My 63, 37, 65, 76, 71, 24, 79, 86, 116 another moun¬ 
tain of Spain. 
My 129,94, 106, 22, 53, 34, 55, 78 a peak of the El- 
borz range. 
My 6, 88, 23. 36, 91, 92, 61, 133, 108, 115, 56, 127, 87, 
72, 67 a mountain of Ceylon. 
My 67, 74, 11, 46, 64, 45, 44, 68, 83 a mountain peak 
of Australia. 
My 36, 84, 12. 23, 66, 102, 104, 82, 2, 131, 70 a peak Of 
the Samen range of Africa. 
My 128 , 132, 53, 107, 23, 50, 129, 103, 93, 123, 134, 113, 
48 a peak of the Andes In the United States 
of Columbia. 
My 7, 25, 29, 37, 38, 47, 61, 77,48, 80, 114 a mountain 
of Chill. 
My 20,119, 124, 110, 120, 121, 37, 95, 129 a peak Of the 
Alps. 
My 26, 5, 36, 97, 61, 43,49, 84, 59 a peak of Greece. 
My 112, 8,100,23,84,60 a range along the Adriatic. 
My 125, 5, 81,63, 32 ,62 a peak of the Balkan Moun¬ 
tains. 
My 82,37, 126 ,109, 57, 19, 15, 72 mountains of New 
York. 
My lie 30,118, 67, 40 a mountain of Palestine. 
My 94, 90, 76 a mountain of the Isle or San Mayen. 
My 64, 136, 137 is a suffix. 
My 85 98, ill, 130 are duplicate consonants. 
My 68, 69, 96, 99,101, 106 are duplicate vowels. 
My whole Is a quotation from a collection of 
selected gems. 
pr Answer In two weeks. Little One. 
- ««« 
TRIPLE ACROSTIC. 
1. A heathen. 2. A man's name. 3. A flying 
banner. 4. A wanderer. 5. Bubbling. 6. To dress 
a second time. Prlmals, centrals and finals form 
three spices. 
X3r Answer In two weeks. Dr. 
-*-*-t- 
PUZZLER ANSWE RS.—July 6. 
Enigma or Generals. —Religion is the clearest 
telescope through which we can behold the beauties 
of creation and the good of our Creator. 
Enigma.—M an. 
Fractional Puzzle.—T amarind. 
Hour-glasb puzzle.— 
HYPERBOREAN 
HAVKKH ILL 
JAMAICA 
INTER 
I T S 
L 
MET 
LOBBY 
MADONNA 
WATERBUBY 
MILLIONAIRE 
TIRED. 
Dear God, I am so weary of it all. 
I fain would rest me for a little space. 
Are there no great rocks where the shadows fall 
That I may cast me down and hide my fBce ? 
I work and strive, sore burdened and afraid. 
The road is flinty and the way is long, 
And the weak Btaff whereby my steps are stayed, 
Bends like a reed when bitter winds are Btrong. 
The lofty thought proves fruitless in tbe deed; 
The prize I toil for seems a glittering lie ! 
There is no comfort for present need, 
No guerdon promised for futurity. 
X shrink in terror from the endless task, 
I look with horror on the barren land, 
And ask. as only hopeless hearts can ask. 
The meaning of my days to understand ! 
-♦ «-♦- 
EXPOSING THE DEAD TO THR GAZE OF 
THE CURIOUS. 
In a recent address the Rev. T. C. Jerome 
criticized the custom of exposing the the dead to 
the indiscriminate gaze of the curious and will, 
no doubt, meet with sympathetic approval Lorn 
most readers. We give a gist of the sermon. 
“ When we are alive and strong and fair In the 
beauty and eloquence of the ' human face divine’ 
above all other Images of God, nevertheless, then, 
we regard It an Impertinence lor a stranger or 
casual acquaintance to stare at us. And if It so 
be that ou.r features are marred by accident, 
disease or natural deformity, the more It Is 
counted the part of courtesy and true kindness 
that even our friends should not allow their 
glance to rest upon the blemishes of our counte¬ 
nances. 
H Then, how much the more when all health, 
gospel and soul have forever departed from the 
fleshy tabernacle, when It lies so soon alter the 
supreme material dishonor and discomfiture of 
the earthly estate, the last enemy having tri¬ 
umphed over the flesh and set hts stamp upon 
It, the worm already commencing to feedsweetly, 
earth to return to earth, dust to dust, ashes to 
ashes; thee to bid all the curious or careless to 
ltDger to look and hasten to talk, is an Ignominy 
and insult to those whom we have loved. Have 
not some of you dreaded It tor yourselves? And 
was there ever a husband who may thus have 
had the face of a wife laid bare, or parents 
of a maiden daughter, but that an added invol¬ 
untary pang and shame thrilled them as the 
crowd passed by ? 
*<' it is sown lu corruption,' the text says. 
Shall strangers be suffered to look upon that 
corruption? ‘It la sown In dishonor.” Shall 
strangers behold tbe dishonor of t he flesh still 
so Bacred and dear to kindred as having been 
but yesterday tbe loved one’s tabernacle ? 
“ Sueb gazing of a crowd upon t he dead can 
but seem to me very like the slu of Noah’s second 
born who looked upon his father’s nakedness; 
wherefore was It written through all time, 
‘Curssd be Canaan.' Supreme nakedness, dis¬ 
honor, defeat of the flesh Is this when the spirit 
has forsaken it; as called in the word of God, 
< unclothed,’ 2 Cor. v: 4, * not for that we would 
be unclothed but clothed upon that mortality 
might be swallowed up of life.' Oh, brother men, 
I beg you, let us henceforth keep thecrowd away 
from the sacred dust of our loved ones, when 
that dust has been • unclot bed.’ 
“But it will be urged that, apart from the 
family circle, there may be many frlenas In the 
congregation who will wish a last look at their 
deceased friend. Yea, that la what I wish of my 
friends! And theretore I will not look at that 
poor clay in Its coldness, corruption and cere¬ 
ments; lest it should take the place to me of tbe 
features of my friend, as 1 last saw them In life, 
beauty, health and soundness, or at lehst In the 
presence of the spirit which la the only real beau¬ 
ty or power of man. For tbe very reason, I say, 
of wishing to remember our friends we ought 
not to wish to look upon their corpses.” 
-- 
The sweetest comforts of this life are but like 
treasures of snow ; do but, take a handful of snow 
and crusa It in your hands, and It will melt away 
presently ; but If you let It Ue upon the grouud, 
It will continue for some time; and so is It with 
the contentments of this world. If you grasp 
them ju your hands, and lay them too near your 
heart, they will quickly melt and vanish away ; 
but If you will not hold them too fast in your 
hands, nor lay them too close to your heart, they 
will abide the longer with you. 
-<*--*-♦- 
God oftentimes delays, that his people may 
come to him with greater strength .and Importu¬ 
nity ; he puts them off, that they may put on 
with more life and vigor. God seems to be cold, 
that he may make us the more hot; he seems to 
be slack, that he may make us the more earnest; 
he seems to be backward, that he may make us 
the more forward In pressing upon him. 
--- 
The work of repentance Is not the work of an 
hour, a day, or a year, but the work of a life. A 
sincere penitent makes as much conscience of 
repenting dally, as he does of believing dally ; 
and he can as easily content hlmaelt with one 
act of faith, or love, or Joy, as he can content 
himself with one act of repentance 
. ♦+♦ — 
Do not put off God to old age ; for old, lame and 
sick sacrlflce8 rarely reach as high as heaven. 
-- 
Young saints often prove old angels, but old 
' ► sinners seldom prove good saints. 
