626 
26 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
SEPT. 
Hiring for % gotiitg. 
POCKET-MONEY FOR THE YOTJNG 
PEOPLE.”—NO. 18. 
Appended la a letter from a Rural Cousin who 
eems to feel ttiat tlie case or tliose situated as 
he Is, has been overlooked by writers In this 
department,— but we will let lilm tell his own 
story: 
Washington, Sept. 12, 1878. 
Dear Uncle True I have been reading all the 
articles in your paper telling what young people can 
do to get a Utile spending money for themselves, 
but they don't seem to fit my case exactly, but are 
for those who live near large towas or cities where 
folks have plenty of money to spend, and It is easy 
to get at them to sell things. I live in the country 
thirty-six miles from any railroad, and there is no 
town with more than a thousand people within a 
good ways, and there are lots of hoys all over the 
West who are no better ofT than I am. We don't 
need a great deal of spending money, but what little 
we do want is mighty bard to get, and if you can 
just tell how you think it can he done, there are 
enough to give it a trial, you bet! 
Ralph Wilkinson. 
We wish Ralph were sitting In this chair beside 
U9 where wo could have a good talk with him, 
for we have an Idea he is Just the style of boy 
we like. We have printed the letter just as It 
was written that we might call hla attention to 
Its two extremes —the beginning and the end. 
There are twenty-eight post-offices In the United 
States named Washington. How are we to know 
at which one he resides 7 lie will probably never 
write another letter without giving the name of 
his State, we will warrant. We would also sug¬ 
gest that the U9e of slang words and phrases Is 
not commendable in conversation even. They 
are apt to slip away from a wide-awake boy 
sometimes without his knowing It, but when he 
writes them we arc obliged to think he does It on 
purpose. 
If Ralph were here we should say to him, “ The 
best advice we can give you, and all others like 
you, Is to tliiMc.” Those men have made the 
greatest successes who have thought lor them¬ 
selves and not gene on doing as others have done 
b.fore them. Ask yourself “ What can I do that 
has not been done by anybody else? What is 
needed by the people about me?” If you can 
originate sninanbing it will pay you more than 
you will need for pocket-money. In the mean¬ 
time we win give you a hint or two. 
Send a letter addressed “Smithsonian Insti¬ 
tute, Washington, D. C.,” asking for a pamphlet 
containing directions for preserving birds and 
animals. It will be sent without cost. The pro¬ 
cess Is easy to learn, and a little experience will 
enable you to do it nicely. Do you think you 
would have any difficulty In selling a hundred 
quails. Squirrels, prairie chickens or any other 
variety of birds or anlmalsto your acquaintances, 
If riiey were nicely prepared? We think not. 
Aud It you become proficient as a taxidermist 
you would doubtless find sale for your prepara¬ 
tions in tpwns more than thirty-six miles away. 
We are very glad tills question wa9 asked, and, 
while we give only this ono suggestion now, the 
subject shall not be forgotten or neglected. 
We omitted to say that taxidermy is a work 
In which girls as well as boys can engage, and 
with equal promise of good results. While 
Ralph la a wilting his directions from Washing¬ 
ton, getting the practice necessary for doing 
good work, he might canvass for subscribers for 
the Rural. Wa have no doubt he could get quite 
a club by a little exertion. This is Just the time 
to do It. The evenings are getting longer and 
people In the country will want something to 
read, and what can be bettor than the Eokal? 
This may not be an original idea, but it is never¬ 
theless true that hundreds of country boys and 
girls could In 1 I 1 I 3 way easily fill their purses with 
pocket-money. 
A TALE OF MANY TAILS. 
BT KATHARINE B. FOOTE. 
Carrv stood In the door-way with her dolly 
on one arm and her kitten hanging over the 
other. Kitty didn’t look comfortable, but she 
bore up bravely, only once In a while giving a 
plaintive mew. Carry gazed into the bright 
white sunshine. 
“ It’s melting hot,” she said. “ I guess, grand¬ 
ma, I’ll take my doll and Frlskarlna out to the 
wash-house and have a party.” 
“ Well,” said grandma, looking over her spec¬ 
tacles, " I’ve no objection ; only there’s a black 
cloud coming up, and you may get caught out 
there In a thunder storm.” 
“If I do, can Jake come for me with an um¬ 
brella, and can I take off my shoes aud stockings 
and come home barefoot ?” 
‘ Yes ; I don’t believe it would hurt, you.” 
“Then i’ll go;" and Carry picked up a box 
with a little tea-set in It, and started off saying ; 
“ Do you believe It’ll rain cats and dogs and 
pitchforks, grandma ? That's what Jake says.” 
“ No, my dear. You’d better ask him if he ever 
saw such a rain.” 
*• So I will," and away went Carry through the 
sunshine. And she said to herself: “ Wouldn’t 
It be funny If It did rain so? I guess grandma 
wouldn't like It much if oats rained down, 'cause 
Bbu says five cats are. too many now.” 
The tea-party ou an old chair without a back 
wasn't much of an affair after all; for, although 
the doll—Miss Rose de Lome—was propped up 
against a starch-box mora than half a dozen times, 
she would keep ou sliding reet first until she 
came down flit on her back and thumped her 
head. 
The kitten went to sleep in the corner Just as 
soon as Carry put her down. 
“Oh, dear!” sighed the little girl. “It’s so 
lonely with cats and, dolls and things that can’t 
. 
talk!” And then she sat down In a corner by the 
old wash-boiler, where Bhe could see out of the 
open door, and took Kitty Into her lap. 
The great fluffy clouds banked up higher and 
higher, and from being white and dazzling they 
began to grow black at the edges; and the black 
masses rolled up and up, until the sun was all 
hidden and the sky was dark. Then came the 
rain, gently at first, In drops far apart, but soon 
It fell faster and faster, and the little leaves on 
the curratiUmshes jumped up and down and 
seemed to enjoy the shower-bath. To Carry’s 
great delight, little streams began to creep over 
the path, now In separate little trickles, and 
and presently with sudden little darts Into one 
another, as they came to uneven places In the 
walk. She watched It all with great wide eyes, 
and felt quiet aud cool just to smell the damp 
earth. 
But soon the drops grew bigger, and all at once 
they were n’t drops of rain at all! 
“Good gracious!" cried Cariy. “Kittens,— 
little blind kittens! it’ll rain dogs next, I sup¬ 
pose !” 
That’s exactly what did happen; for down 
came puppies along with the kittens. They 
squirmed and mewed and hissed and yelped, and 
all the time kept growing bigger and bigger. 
Some came head first pawing and mewing the 
air as they fell; some tall first, looking scared to 
death; but most miserable of all were those that 
came down tumbling over and over. 
it made them so dizzy to come down In that 
whirligig fashion, that they staggered about 
when they tried to stand. Carry felt truly sorry 
for them, and yet sue couldn’t nelp laughing. 
And the cats and dogs who had come first laughed 
too. 
“Dear me! That’s sort of funny. Is n’t It7" 
she thought: but the surprise didn’t last long, 
for, In the midst of a tremendous shower, down 
came two most remarkable figures, and, with 
them, what at first sight appeared to be several 
long sticks; but, on looking again, Carry saw 
these were pitchforks! 
“ Oh!’’ said she, “ I thought they’d come.” 
Then she stared for a minute at the two odd 
figures, and cried: "Whyl It’s Mother Hub¬ 
bard's dog and Puss In Boots!” And sure enough, 
bo It was! 
Puss had a blue velvet cloak on Ills shoulders, 
large boots, and a velvet cap with a long plume. 
He turned toward Carry and made her a low bow, 
gracefully doffing his hat. 
“ You are right, Mademoiselle,’’said he. “ I am 
that renowned personage, and your humble ser¬ 
vant. Permit me to add, Mademoiselle, that 
my eyes have not beheld a fairer damsel than 
they now rest upon, since last 1 saw my beloved 
mistress, Ihe charming Marquise de Carabas.” 
Mother nubbard's dog was dressed In a suit of 
fine old-fashioned clothes, and held lightly be¬ 
tween hla teeth a very snort-stemmed pipe froTn 
which he puffed great clouds of smoke. 
He came up beside pass, and said, without re¬ 
moving his pipe: “Stuff and nonsense! We 
don’t talk so stupidly In our village. Don’t waste 
your time In silly yams, but let’s settle this fight 
at once.” 
Puss turned away and, addressing Carry, said: 
"Mademoiselle, tbl3 plebeian does not under¬ 
stand the language of court circles, to which I 
have been used for many years. Mademoiselle 
will pardon bis Ignorance.” And here Puss rolled 
up his eyes and placed his hand upon his heart 
and bowed sa low that ho was actually standing 
on his head before he had finished. But he turned 
a graceful somersault and came right side up 
again In half a second, without looking at all dis¬ 
turbed. 
“ Sir!" said the dog, with dignity, “ this malter 
should he settled at once, or the sun will be out, 
and then-” he stopped short and winked at 
Tuss in a very knowing manner. 
“ Ah 1 that Is true,” replied the cat, “I had for¬ 
gotten. Shall H, be a general or a single combat?" 
“Well,” said the dog, gravely, sitting down on 
a large flower-pot near by, “ I tblnk, as we have 
been wantlog to fight this out for some time,—In¬ 
deed, I may say, almost since time began,—we 
had better allow every one to have a tooth and a 
claw In it. Then, perhaps, this matter will be 
settled forever.” 
“Quite my opinion,” responded Puss. “But 
first the ladles, lorants, and weak and wounded, 
must be removed from the field.” 
“All right!” said the dog. “But look here. 
You first stop that, will you ?” and he pointed to 
a fine gray cat that was rubbing herself against 
a large, comfortable-looking Newfoundland. 
“ Immediately,” said Pubs, and he bawled In a 
loud voice, “There Is to be no friendly inter¬ 
course between soldiers of the two armies. It is 
In the highest degree detrimental to military 
discipline.” 
And the dog shouted, “Stop being pleasant to 
each other, right off. I can’t have It. You al¬ 
ways have fought, and you’ve got to fight now." 
The big Newfoundland at once made a snap at 
the gray cat, and she put up her back, spit and 
clawed at him, and ran off as fast as she could. 
Then Puss waved his handkerchief, as a flag of 
truce, and said la a loud voice, “ There will be a 
cessation of hostilities for five minutes, until the 
non-combatants are removed.” 
The able-bodied cats arranged themselves In 
rows, and the dogs did the same. The two gen¬ 
erals stepped grandly in front or the lines, and 
the battle seemed about to begin, when a young 
and frisky cat, at the far end of the front rank, 
took advantage of a dog opposite who had turned 
his head, and Jumped upon his back, clawing him 
In so cruel a way that he howled dreadfully. 
At. this Mother Hubbard's dog advanced an¬ 
grily, and taking the cat by the nape of the heck, 
threw her among the cat army, saying : “ The 
trumpet hasn’t souuded, and we haven’t begun 
yet. Tnat was a real sneaky trick, Just like a 
cat.” 
“ Sir l" cried Puss In Boots, loftily, “ Do you 
mean to Insinuate that I am a sneak ?” k 
“ I didn’t say so, precisely,” returned the dog. 
“ But It you want me to, I will.” Then he added, 
In a taunting tone, “ you are a sneak 1” 
Puss trembled with rage at this Insult, and 
drew the little sword he wore at his side. 
“ Prove It 1" he cried, brandishing his blade. 
“ Didn’t you sneak yourself and your master 
Into a castle and fine clothes that you had no 
right to?” 
“ Didn't you pretend to be dead once and 
frighten your poor mistress nearly out of her 
wits ? Take tnat, sir!" and he made a furious cut 
at him. 
But the dog dodged the weapon, and, with a 
cutlass suddenly pulled from behind him, made a 
fierce blow at the cat. Puss leaped nimbly away, 
with a scream of triumph and defiance. Then 
they set to with all their skill and hate and cun¬ 
ning. 
Presently Puss fell, apparently dead, and Sir 
John llubhard, the victor, was leaning on his cut¬ 
lass, looking sorry, when suddenly Puss jumped 
up, grasped his sword and made a savage lunge 
at the dog. “That was only one of my lives!” 
he screamed. “ 1 have eight left. Oats have nine 
lives, but you — you miserable dog—have only 
one.” 
Then they fought worse than ever, and neither 
seemed willing to yield. 
But the fight ended in a strange way. Just as 
the dog again lafd Puss low, a tremendous shower 
or pitchforks fell, beating on everything with 
dreadful effect. Sir John saved himself by get¬ 
ting under a tree, but poor Puss couldn’t move to 
a shelter, and his remaining seven lives were be¬ 
ing rapidly Knocked out of him. when the brave 
dog rushed out Into the storm and proved himself 
a generous foe by shielding Puss rrora the pitch- 
forks with his own body. 
“You are a dear good dog!" cried Carry. “I 
always loved you the bestl” But even as she 
was speaking-there came a terrific clap of thun¬ 
der, and her own cat, who had been trembllDg 
with fear, sprang to her shoulder and burled her 
claws there, and as Carry shrieked wlih fright 
and pain, Jake was holding her in his arms. 
“Were you frightened, out here all alone?’ 
said he. '* I was busy and 1 didn’t think you'd 
mind the rain; but when the thunder began I 
came out quick.” 
“Rain?”said Carry. “I don’t mind rain, Jake; 
but I don’t like It to rain cats and dogs when they 
fight. Why, .where are they ?” She lifted her 
face from Jake’s shoulder, and looked about her 
amazed, for not a cat was to be seen nor a dog, 
but, only the steady ralD, pouring straight down. 
“ Cats and dogs!” said Jake, laughing. 
“And pttchrorks, too, -Jake,—yes, really!” 
“ Well,” said Jake; “ If you atnt the most curi¬ 
ous little gal!”— St. Nicholas. 
-- 
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS IN RURAL, 
SEPT. 7. 
IlmMitg, 
MOUNTAINEER’S PRAYER. 
No. 1. Put cold, wet cloths upon the throat and 
chest, and cover warmly with flannel; change 
often; keep on until Inflammation subsides. 
No. 2. As soon as possible arter accidents, get 
a bandage one yard or more m length, and halt 
as wide; wet In cold water, then roll smoothly 
and tightly around Injured part; give complete 
rest and constantly damp with cold water. 
No. 3. Apply spirits ammonia, or common whit¬ 
ing, moistened with water, and relief will soon 
follow. 
No. 4. Raise both arms above the head, holding 
them there a few minutes; or sponge head and 
face with tee water, and place a towel wet in cold 
water, between shoulders. 
No. t. Emetics of Ipecac, mustard seed, whites 
of eggs, oil and lime-water or flax seed tea. 
No. 6. Pour a pint of boiling water on a handful 
of sage leaves; let It stand a half-hour to cool ; 
add vinegar to make It acid, aud honey to sweet¬ 
en to taste. Gargle throat often. 
No. 7. Insert the finger In a whole lemon; wear 
thus twenty-four hours, and it wiu be cured with¬ 
out rurtber trouble. 
No. 8. Pour milk over tbe burned part, then 
sprinkle flour [over; let It remain until cured. 
Or, take one drachm alum, whites of two eggs, 
one teacupful lard: mix and spread on a cloth 
and apply twice a day. 
No. Vi. First stop the bleeding by bringing edges 
of the cut together, and holding with the fin¬ 
ger till a tight ligature Is arranged above the 
cut. I f the blood still flows, tighten the bandage. 
If no surgeon can be procured, wash the wound In 
warm water, taken silk thread and a pair of pin¬ 
cers, have the bandage slightly loosened aud you 
can then see the mouth of the artery. Seize at 
once, draw it. out. a Utile while an assistant tics 
It with a double knot, in this manner take up all 
the several arteries you can see. 
No. lo. Drop some warm glycerine Into the 
ear by means of a quill, then introduce a piece of 
wool. 
No. 11. Rub the body dry. then roll In warm 
blankets and put In a warm bed, In a warm room 
Apply warm water to arm-pits, thighs, and soles 
of the feet. 
To restore breathing, lay the body faeft down¬ 
wards; place one arm under forehead, lr there 
be no breathing, turn the patient on the side and 
excite the nostrils with snuff or ammonia, and 
tickle the throat, with a feather. 
Rub face and cliesr. well and dash cold and 
warm water alternately on them, if there la 
still no success, Imitate breathing by laying the 
body first on the chest, and then on the Ride, as 
by laying It. on the chest, the weight, of the body 
forces t he atr from the lungs, while fresh rushes 
In, asthe body Is placed on t he side. When the 
patient is able to swallow, give small quantities 
of wine or coffee. Give all the Sleep possible. 
No. 12. Take a lead pencil In the right hand, 
and wlih the thumb and forefinger of the led, 
sleze i lie lashes of the upper Ud, and drawing 
the lid out. from the ball, press the point of the 
pencil downward upon the upper surface of the 
lid about, one-fourth Inch from margin, and at 
the same time carry the margin upward over the 
point by the lashes, when the lid will roll over 
the pencil, so as to show a little groove close to 
ihe margin where all foreign bodb-s lodge, and 
can be easily removed with a pencil or the finger 
covered by a handkerchief. The person oper¬ 
ated on, must look down while the operation Is 
performed, and while the Ud Is restored. Bathe 
la cold Water and exclude light. 
Gird me with tbe strength of Thy steadfast hills 1 
The speed of Tby streams give rue! 
In tbe spirit that calms, with the Ufe that thrills, 
I would stand or run for Thee. 
Let me be Thy voice, or Thy silent power,— 
As the cataract or the peak,— 
An eternal thought in niy earthly hour, 
Of the living God to speak. 
Olotbo me in the rose-tints of Thy skies 
Upon morning summits laid; 
Robe me in the purple and gold that flies 
Through Thy shuttles of light and shade; 
Let me rise and rejoice in Thy smile aright,' 
As mountains and forests do, 
Let me welcome Thy twilight and Thy night, 
And wait for Thy dawn anew !, 
Give me of the brook’s faith, joyously sung: 
Under clank of ito icy chain ! 
Give rue of the patience that hides among 
lhj hi.l-tops in mist and rain ! 
Lift me up from the clod; let me breatho Thy breath; 
Thy beauty and strength give rue I 
Let me lose both the name and ihe meaning of death 
In the lifn that 1 share with Thee 1 
[Lucy Larcom. 
- - 
SHALL WE PRAY IN CONCERT I 
And now comes a proposition to Impose a list 
of uniform topics upon all the prayer-meetings 
of the land. As the .Sunday-schools are all study¬ 
ing the same Ijssoo, It 13 urged that all the 
prayer-meetings would find It profitable to con¬ 
sider the same subject and unite In the same 
petitions. The Evangelical Alliance submits top¬ 
ics Tor the week of prayer; “why not-,” It Is 
asked, “do the same work for all the year? 
Then all denominations will feel perfectly Tree to 
Join In the uniformity; the number of particular 
churches using such a list would Increase every 
year, and before long It would cause another 
turn to be taken In the chord that binds all the 
Lord's people together.” Sure enough! And 
why not have tho prayers all printed, too, and 
recited In concei t, beginning at the same mo¬ 
ment. It would be easy to have the clocks In 
the prayer-meeting room connected by tele¬ 
graphic wires with the clock In the Observatory 
at Cambridge or at Washington; and then, by 
simply following the tlcklngof the clock. It would 
be possible to Intone the prayers and all the 
other exercises In all the prayer-meetings simul¬ 
taneously. What an lmsplrlng thought It would 
be, tfcat at the very second when the leader In 
your prayer-meeting opened his mouth and said 
"O!”—forty or fifty thousand other leaders, In 
forty or fifty thousand other prayer-meetings, 
were all opening their mouths and saying ** o 1” 
If there Is so much value and Inspiration lu uni¬ 
formity and slmultaneousncss, we might as well 
have the thing thoroughly organized and efficient¬ 
ly carried out. 
There is an Instance of something like this on 
record—Dr. Holmes is our authority—when sll 
the people In the world determined with one ac¬ 
cord to lift up their voices and shout, in ihe hope 
that the noise would be heard in the moon. The 
result of this experiment, however, was not en¬ 
couraging to those who put their trust in the effi¬ 
cacy orsimultaneousness. “When the time came, 
everybody had their ears so wide open to hear 
tbe universal ejaculation of -Boo’—the word 
agreed upon—that nobody spoke except a deaf 
man In one of the Fecjee islands, and a woman 
In Pekin, so that the world was never so still 
since the creation." It has once or twice occured 
to us that something of this sort may happen 
when we get tnis “cord that binds f.11 the world's 
people ” to simultaneous observances, twisted a 
little tighter. Everybody will be thinking so 
much of the fact that everybody else la praying 
that nobody will pray at all. Clearly this uni¬ 
form topic and concert business may be carried a 
little too far. Some degree of spontaneity la 
necessary In religion, and while there are diver¬ 
sities of gifts we may as well tolerate some diver¬ 
sities of operation. 
DENYING SELF. 
It Is important not to confound the “self” cf 
personality with the “self” of selfishness; the 
one simply distinguishes me from all other be¬ 
ings, the other elevates me above them all. With¬ 
out selfishness a man would be a saint; without 
personality he would not evea be a man. Each 
of us, then, has a alstlnot life and character; 
he. Is meant to be himself and not another; but 
was never meant to live for himself. When not 
tempted to self-rlghteousr.ess, we may be Inclin¬ 
ed to self-reliance, to self-seeking, or to self- 
glorying, under some subtle form. If there Is a 
worldly self, there is also a Christian Beir, a pious 
self, a new old man, as It, were, and even a self- 
denying self, having “ashow of wisdom In will 
worship and humility,” a superfine spirituality 
which the Apostle suddenly brings down rrom Its 
lofty lilghl with the unfxpeoicd rebuke that It Is 
vainly puffed up by Its fleshy mind.” Another 
danger la to carry t he putting aside or self to the 
point.of losing one’s own personality, so as prac¬ 
tically to replace the Apostle's words, “ I can do 
all things through Christ which strengthened! 
me," by a statement such as the rollowlug: “I 
have nothing to do, for it is Christ who does all 
things for me.” Now Christ has said, indeed, 
“Without, mo ye can do nothing,” but He has 
never said, “ With me, there Is nothing for you 
to do." The Apostle has summed up the whole 
subject In this one verse, “I labor, striving ac¬ 
cording to His working, which worketh In me 
mightily.” The mighty working Is the Loro’s, 
but it is effected In the Apostle, and sets him to 
labor and to Btrlve .—From a Tract on Denying 
Sell, by Theodore Monoa. 
