642 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
AU6. 24 
Intention to desert Ills mansion and never return. 
News ot tlie occurrence reaching the neighbors, 
one of them called to condole with the deserted 
farmer, and said, “Hans, 1 pity you.” “ My boy,” 
replied the honest Dutchman, as he disturbed 
knocked out the ashes of his pipe, “ you vas right. 
She has shusc come back.” 
Cast a Line roR V ourself.— A youug man stood 
listlessly watching some anglers on abridge, lie 
was poor and dejected. At last, approaching a 
basket lllied with wholesome-looking llsh, he 
sighed, 
“ if 1 now had these, I would be happy. I could 
sell them at a fair price, and buy me food and 
lodgings.” 
“ I will give you just as many and just as good 
flsh,” said the owner, who chanced to overhear his 
words, “If you will do me a trilling favor.” 
“ And what Is that?” asked the other. 
“ only to tend the line till I come hack; 1 wish 
to go on a short errand.” 
The proposal was gladly accepted. The old man 
was gone so long that the young man began to 
get Impatient. Meanwhile the hsb snapped greed¬ 
ily at the halted hook, and the young man lost all 
his depression In the excitement ol pulling them 
lu, and when the owner returned, he had caught 
a large number, counting out from them as 
many as were In the basket, and presenting them 
to the young ilian, the old fisherman said: 
“Ifulfil my promise from the fish you have 
caught, to leach you when you see others earning 
what you need, to waste no time In foolish wish¬ 
ing, but cast a line for yourself.” 
■-- 
MAGAZINES FOR AUGUST. 
Tiik Ati. antic Monthly.—Contents : The Still¬ 
water Tragedy', XVlll.-XXLL; Sicilian Hospitality; 
Klntu; The surgeon at the Field Hospital; Mr. 
Hunt’s Teaching; I’cpacton, A Summer voyage; 
The Archbishop and Oil Idas; Sylvia’s Suitors, a 
Little Episode; Among the Pueblos; Edward Mills 
and George lien ton, a talc; Allen Sin; The Pre¬ 
ceptor of Moses: An Englishwoman in the New 
England mil Country; The Heed Immortal; Tau¬ 
rus ceutaurus; The Republicans and their Candi¬ 
date ; Some Amudng Books or Travel; Professor 
Fisher's discussions; Henry Armitt. Brown; Nat¬ 
ural Science and Religion; Italian Poetry; The 
Contributors’ club. 
A Sicilian Palace, by Luigi Monti.—The house 
we were in was one of those baronial palaces built 
In the fifteenth century, when many of the feudal 
nobility let t the turreted castles on their estates, 
and established themselves in the cities, where 
they enjoyed the first honors, it iiad descended 
by Inheritance to out host, and to all appearance 
It had never been altered from Its original con¬ 
struction and furnishing, except In a very lew ar¬ 
ticles of furniture winch replaced those that had 
decayed. It was a square building of about seventy 
feet front, bull! of solid blocks of porous yellow 
stone that had become brown by age. 
It had a small square In front, with a number of 
low, crumbling, miserable old homes, leaning one 
against the other, and a tew poor slmus In the 
basement: an old apothecary displayed In IBs 
window a variety of very old Sicilian majolica pots 
with salves of all sorts, aud there was a small 
cafe, with a blue and white awning over the door, 
aud two or three small tables aud chairs outside 
under it. These houses, in days gone by, had 
sheltered the retainers of the feudal lord; but now 
they were rented, and occupied by a very common 
class of the population. This contrast or a superb 
palace surrounded by poor tenements Is most pe¬ 
culiar and characteristic of Italian towns, espe¬ 
cially the small ones, ana chose out of the way of 
modern influence, reminding one of the times 
when they were built,—times or caste and privi¬ 
leges; of immense wealth among the few at the 
expense of the poverty and degradation of the 
many; of a proud feudatory lord, exacting and 
enjoying the fruits of the labor oi thousands of 
vassals, over whom he held sway as sovereign 
master. 
The front, entrance formed an archway which 
led to an interior court-yard, m the center of 
which stood a very old granite fountain, with wide 
basins for horses to drink out of. By hereditary 
custom It was also used as a public dispenser of 
water to all the poor ol the neighborhood, whose 
ragged children were constantly coming in and 
out to fill their earlliern jars. The whole base¬ 
ment of the palace opening Into this interior court¬ 
yard, which In feudal times received the armed 
retainers and their horses, the granaries and 
kitchens, was now turned into stables and carriage- 
houses, the washing and meaning of which was 
done in tne court-yard itself, near the fountain, 
making it a scene of bustle and dirt, rather un¬ 
pleasant to one not. used to it. 
On the right ot the archway ot the entrance was 
a marble stahease leading to the family apart¬ 
ments, or 'tuarlo nob Up, In the hall were several 
doors leading to them, the rooms being all on the 
same floor, opening one Into the other, our bed¬ 
chamber was of a very peculiar construction; it 
was divided In two by an alcove In the middle, 
having on eacn side a paneled door leading Into 
two dressing- rooms, both the alcove and dressing- 
rooms opening Into the back ol the chamber, 
which haq a space- as large as the front, with two 
windows looking out into the court-yard, and con¬ 
taining wardrobes and chests of drawers. The front 
part had two balconies over tho square, and was 
quaintly furnished with old rococo furniture very 
much worn; the floor was paved with glazed tiles 
and had no carpet, except an Oriental rug here 
and thero. The rooms were furnished In the style 
of the sixteenth century; they were high studded, 
with fresco paintings of mytnologleal subjects, 
now almost faded by age and dampness; high 
paneled doors of white and gold—the white turned 
to a dusty gray, aud the gold to a dark yeUow; 
there were old portraits of knights and magis¬ 
trates, ancestors of our dost, and an air of antiqui¬ 
ty about'everythlng that was charming to see.— 
Atlantic Monthly. 
Demorest’s Magazine ; Butterlck's Delineator 
and Domestic Monthly for August are at hand. 
They are presented in their usual form but con¬ 
tain new matter. The fashions are displayed with 
taste and the literary department Is filled wit h 
articles oi Interest. 
There are many hints to be gotten from these 
well conducted journals. 
•» » »- 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
A selection from Dr. Tanner’s correspondents: 
My dear Doctor Tanner: 
If you fast in this manner 
Aud live without hash 
Our business will smash. 
With tears in my eyes. 
That you live upon air— 
1 ask is this fair ? 
Suppose every Sliest 
Should just do his best 
To accomplish your i'eat 
And ask nothing to eat? 
I'm sure they wouldn’t pay, 
For each one would say 
“My last week is paid, 
And board bills are played." 
But if you’ll die in season 
'J’bey’Jl come back to reason, 
And then they wfll take 
All the hash I can make. 
Therefore, my dear friend, 
Bring this fast to an end. 
And prevent the grief deeper 
Of— 
A BoariuNG-House Keeper. 
4for 3® omen. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
THE SOFT “NO.” 
You No Kitty sat knitting. “ My darling,”. I said 
“Iv’e had a most beautiful dream ! 
Shall I tell it ?” She gave a slight shake of the head, 
And answered : “ I’m turning the seam !” 
I reached for the mesh, speckled soft like a pink. 
That she bold in her lingers so small. 
But she answered;“I can’t leavemy work—only think 
I'm knitting a sock for a doll." 
" Don’t tease me so, Kitty, my dear little one— 
You uredying to hear—I’ll be bound 1” 
•’ .Tust wait,” she said, smiling as bright as the sun, 
‘Must wait till l’vekuittod a round.” 
1 waited impatient, and thru I drew near, 
And pushing tho Purls from her brow, 
1 said : “ Are you ready my Kitty, my dear?" 
She answered: " I’m narrowing now !” 
Still nearer 1 drew -put my arm round her waist— 
Ami breaking of Bilonee the sea), 
ftepeated . “ Dear Kitty ! why, what is your haste ! 
She answered “ I’m setting the heel!” 
I smiled, aud 1 frowned—f looked up at the clock— 
At the coals 'ueatli the loreatiek aglow, 
Aud then at dear Kitty—she held up the sock, 
Saying : “ Would you put white in the toe ?” 
“ You yhall hear me, Kitty, you dearest of girls, 
Aud then, if you will, you may ecoll l” 
She shook loose the band I laid on her curls, 
AB Bhesaid: “ I’m Just binding off!” 
bent of mind that no disagreement can possibly 
come between you to mar that first happiness 
which should last through life. 
In contemplating marriage make sure of three 
things.: first, that you are realty lu love; second, 
that you thoroughly understand each other; third, 
make up your mind that you will not only Uve 
with, butybr each other. 
Thus, with mutual devotion, kindly forbearance 
with faults and a confidence in each other which 
no meddling gossip can shake, you have every 
prospector a happy, prosperous and harmonious 
life. Bektiia A, Winkler. 
-^-M- 
RULES FOR VISITING. 
As a general rule, never Invite yourself to stay 
with any one; do not take such a liberty even 
with a near relation. Many persons have a habit 
of making unexpected appearances; they should 
remember that Intrusions of this kind are sure to 
be more or less resented, and they run the risk of 
making themselves unwelcome guests. Others In 
an off-hand manner announce their Intention of 
paying a visit, thereby Causing a considerable 
amount of embarrassment; for though the host 
may not be averse to the self-invited guest’s soci¬ 
ety, yet the liberty taken may cause great Incon. 
ventence. 
Be not less particular that you do not take a 
stranger, or an uninvited person, with you when 
you pay a visit-unless, of course, you are special¬ 
ly requested to do so. It It should happen that 
you receive an invitation at a time when you have 
a friend staying with you, write by return mail 
declining the Invitation, giving the presence ol your 
friend as the reason for your doing so. Itls then 
the province of the giver or the Invitation to write 
and extend the Invitation to your friend also. 
Then you may accept; but do not take the Initia¬ 
tive yourself and say you would be glad to come If 
you could bring So-and-so with you; as your host 
may be so circumstanced that to say “yes” or 
“ no ” would bo equaBy disagreeable. 
A considerate visitor will be careful not to keep 
his host and hostess up to a later hour than that 
at which they habitually retire. Thoughtless per¬ 
sons frequently occasion much vexation aud In¬ 
convenience in this w ay. 
In many houses there Is a tacit signal that bed¬ 
time has arrived by the appearance of a tray with 
wine, soda-water, biscuits, etc. After partaking 
of this light refreshment, candlesticks are handed 
round among tho ladles, who then retire lo their 
own apartments. Gentleman leave the drawing 
room at the same time; and for them It Is per- 
mlssable to adjourn to the smoking-room for a 
short time before retiring for the night—this of 
course, Is quite optional, and does not entail the 
presence of the host. 
When staying at a lilend’s house, a visitor 
should never take a book from t he library to his 
own room without requesting permission to bor¬ 
row It. Many people place the highest value on 
their literary possessions. When a book Is lent, 
care, should be taken that It sustains not the 
slightest damage, either within or without. 
No guest should be continually dependent upon 
her host for entertainment,.but should throw her 
self upon her own resources, and endeavor to 
amuse herself as much as possible, aud should re¬ 
member, that however welcome she may be, her 
presence is not it hr ays wanted. 
From breakfast to luncheon, as a usual thing, 
visitors should not expect any attention from 
host or hostess. Both require some time In order 
to make necessary arrangements; many matters 
may require the supervision of tho hostess, while 
the host avails himself of this period to occupy 
himself with his personal concerns. The visitor, 
too. finds this a convenient time ror writing, tak¬ 
ing a stroll, reading, etc.. In fact, do anything In 
reason, except look for any attentions from her 
entertainers during this portion of the day. 
ANOTHER ANSWER. 
In the Rural of July 2Jth, “ Miss Irene," asks: 
“ Who seconds the motion that some married sis¬ 
ter, who knows how, will give these husbands a 
1 drawing over the coals ?’” Aud, I think It quite 
proper, perhaps, that a married sister should do 
the experimental cremating, u any such thing is 
on the tapis; but first let us stop to consider the 
sort or “work” we have in hand before we “seal the 
contract.” 
There is a certain class of readers who raise a 
great “hue and cry” about tho poor abused farm¬ 
ers'wives, but, bo sure, 11 Is never the farmers 
wife who does the. complaining; rather some vlne- 
gared spinster, whose chief claim to public atten¬ 
tion Is a sharp pen and a shrill voice, Ir Is seldom 
the strong, healthy, helpful soul that grumbles. 
The army or faultfinders Is usually compose d of 
those whose lives have been dwarfed and soured 
by circumstance, or, more truly, being narrow, life 
and outward circumstance meet them on that 
plane aud return like for like. 
Life generally la to each of us just what our own 
Individuality can reach out and elahn. The at¬ 
mosphere about us Is what wo make It from our 
Inner selves, and we see the world through rosy 
mists, or “Jaundiced eyes," just as our own optics 
chance to be constituted, But. this Is not singeing 
the toes of the poor offending husbands as we 
swing them too and fro over our bed of coals, and 
when we come to think just how badly the poor 
fellows would feel, we believe we will decline the 
ofilce In favor of some better executioner. 
As for the matter of bad farmer husbands l don’t 
really know that they are any better, or any 
worse than the wives! Of course, there are coarse 
men, those regardless of the welfare of their wives * 
or children, or in fact of anything but their own 
BelOsh ego, aud there are also women very little 
better. But there Is no use to cry out about the 
brutality of mankind. That never made over any 
man; no harangues from a woman ever cured a 
man of any coarseness! If we would labor to 
elevate mankind, we must begin at the root, of the 
A farmer’s wife, In speaking of the smartness, 
aptness and intelligence of her son, a lad six years 
old, to a lady acquaintance, said: “ He can read 
fluently In any part of Lhe Bible, repeat tbe whole 
catechism, and weed onions as well as his father,” 
“Yes, mother,” added the young hoperul, “ and 
yesterday l licked Ned ltawson. throwed tne eat 
into tne well and stole old Hinckley’s gimlet.” 
Down by the river side they met. 
Sweet Romeo aud Juliet, 
Her hand in hie he placed aud said 
“ Sweet J uliet, 1 Would thee wed.” 
“ Indeed ?” she iiueried. "Ah ! let's go; 
Get in this boat. Oh ! Row me, oh !" 
—Joaquin Miller. 
Two grammarians wrangling, one contending 
that It was only proper to say, “ My wages Is 
high.” while the other noisily Insisted that the 
correct thing was, “My wages are high.” Finally 
they stopped a day laborer, and submitted the 
question to him. “ Which do you say, ‘ Your 
wages Is high,’ or * Your wages are high ?’ ” “ Oh, 
off wld your nonsense," he said, resuming his 
pick, " yer nay thur ov ye right; me wages Is low, 
bad luck to ’em.” 
When asked what town he hailed from 
His reply to l’eter i-hall be: 
“ I starved to death in Gotham, 
And my name is Dr. T.”—G. W. Childs. 
1’ostm aster J ames received a letter from Nor¬ 
wich, Conn., on which was the following address: 
“Mr. Colton, ’the tooth Fuller,’ somewhere In 
the Cooper Institute Building better known as 
the ‘Gas Man.’ Will the genial Col. James see 
that he gets this. New York city." 
Ai'i'i.E dij-MPLCNUS from the pot, 
Just a dozeu, steaming - hot; 
And the old man, convalescent, says the grace; 
Then he takes them, one by one. 
Eats eleven, while his son 
Sees them disappear with horror on his face. 
When the b'ck man takes the last. 
Speaks the little boy, aghast, 
“ l*a, I haven’t hud one dumpling —nor lias ina.” 
•’ What 1" the old man cried, amazed, 
While ho dropped his knife and gazed, 
“ Would you take the last one from your poor, 
sick pa?”- Petroleum World. 
Fly Time When you hear her father’s heavy 
cane thumping along the hall. 
I’ll tell yon a story that's not in Tom Moore: 
Young love likes to knock at a pretty girl’s door. 
So he called upon Lucy—’twas just ten o’clock— 
Like a spruce Eingle man, with a smart double knock- 
Now. a handmaid, whatever her lingers be at, 
Will run like a puss wheu she hears a rat tat; 
Bo Lucy ran up, and iu two seconds more 
Had questioned the strauger aud answered the door, 
The meeting was bliss, but the parting was woe; 
For the moment will come wheu such comers must go; 
Ho she kissed him and whispered pour, innocent 
thing— 
“ The next tune you come, love, pray come with a 
ring!” —Tom Hood. 
A venerable lady of a celebrated physician, 
one day easting her eye out of the window, ob¬ 
served her husband In the funeral proeesslon of 
one of his patients, at which she exclaimed: “ 1 do 
wish my husband would keep away from such 
processions—It appears too much like a tailor car¬ 
rying home his work.” 
As Dr. Tanner has received the business cards 
of most of the undertakers In town, so a young 
lady about to be married receives an indefinite 
number of curious circulars, one of these, re¬ 
cently sent by a dentist, Is delightfully sugges¬ 
tive : “ Having heard the happy news of your ap¬ 
proaching marriage, 1 have the pleasure of offer¬ 
ing you my services tu setting your teeth In com¬ 
plete order, as per annexed schedule of prices. 
This operation, which Is useful in all ordinary 
events of life, Is indispensable under the present 
circumstances. The first Impressions or married 
life are ineffaceable and their consequences of the 
greatest gravity. I therefore cannot too strongly 
advise you to have your teeth thoroughly cleaned 
by a skillful and conscientious practitioner." 
“ I dreamed of a cottage embowered with trees, 
And under the bluest of skies—” 
She checked me with: “ Sit farther oil if you please, 
My needles will get iu your eyes." 
“ I dreamed you were there, like a rose at my door 
Aud that love, Kitty, lone, made uh rich 1” 
“ I told you to eit farther oil' once before ! ” 
She answered “ I'm dropping a stitch F* 
she knitted the last, and had broken the thread 
When I cried: “ Am 1 ouly a friend ? 
Or may I be lover ?” She quietly said: 
” Pray wait till I've fastened the end !" 
" Will you marry me?" Here the worst came to the 
worst, 
There was nothing to do but to go; 
For I learned at. tho last, what 1 might have known 
first. 
It was all her soft way to say “ No !” 
A LETTER TO LOVERS. 
Fekhafs never before In your life did the hori¬ 
zon of your future look so bright as now when 
glorious anticipations pierce the dawn of a new 
life and everything Is viewed In the rose-hues of 
the morning. 
You don’t care to think or the mid-day heat, tho 
clouds, the tempests, and the evening shades; and 
perhaps it is just as well to let that distant part ot 
your future remain lu the back ground, for I never 
had much sympathy for people who go after 
trouble. 
But, prudence, that happy medium between 
thoughtless abandon of cares and the nervous 
watching and nursing or them, la, I fear, too little 
exercised In matters matrimonial. To consider 
your first appearance in society synonymous with 
railing in love and getting married, or to get ac¬ 
quainted with youy ideal in some romantic way 
and consider yourself fated lustead ol asking your¬ 
self whether you are suited, are just such mis¬ 
takes as young, careless lovers are likely to com¬ 
mit. In both eases marriage Is a lottery. You 
draw your ticket of chance eagerly, hopefully, but 
without thought, and consequently find It very 
often a blank of disappointment. 
Our counsel Is not against love at first sight, but 
against the delusions of a short-lived fancy. Let 
your hearts at all times deckle your choice, but 
first be quite sure that that heart Is right.. That 
it Is not misled with beautiful visions of magnifi¬ 
cent drawing-rooms, servants and carriages. That 
It Is not deluded with the Ideal fleeting iancy of 
love In a cottage. 
This may read well enough In stories, but your 
life Is too earnest to let your Imagination carry 
you away from its stern reaUtles. The luxury of 
wealth will never compensate you for the loss of 
happiness. The dreams or your raney will never 
satisfy the gnawings or hunger. And above all, a 
shallow, imagined love will never endure tho test 
of time and adversity. 
“ They are a splendid couple.” Ilow well that 
sounds as, on your bridal day, you catch that whis¬ 
pered remark from some admiring friend. But do 
they know and (unless yoia 1 choice has been made 
with proper deliberation) do you know that the 
“match ” will be as mutually agreeable as “splen¬ 
did ? ” 11 ave devoted lovers never proved selfish, 
Indifferent husbands? and fascinating girls never 
changed tuto careless wives? Or do you think 
that because it Is you aud not some one else such 
experience would be spared you ? There’s many 
a palace holds a wealth of unhappiness; and many 
a rose-embowered cottage full of dtacontent. Yet 
their lu mates had just such thoughts, and many 
after you will flatter themselves Into the same 
delusion. Before marriage you look through the 
rose-colored spectacles of your Imagination and 
find everything very beautiful. After marriage 
you sec only through smoked glasses and all has 
changed Into commonplace drab. But when you 
learn to look at it with bared eyes, without your 
imagination or your prejudice to color It brighter 
or darker than It really 1s, then you may safely 
estimat e your lot In life. 
Half the disappointments In married life are 
caused by the hasty, thoughtless union of Ill- 
matched, half-suited couples and the disagree¬ 
ments accruing thereirom. 
It would be weU, therefore. If, during the progress 
of courtship, lustead of Idle talk and senseless flat¬ 
tery, you would diligently study each others char¬ 
acter by exchanging ideas and opinions, In order 
that when you are husband and wife you may be 
so well acquainted with each others tastes and 
