THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
fox % gatntg, 
A SONG FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 
I noticed m (he Rural, some months ago, a re¬ 
quest for “ Old Time Songs,’ which brought to my 
mind a simple ditty taught rue when I was a very 
little girl. I do not know where It came from, who 
was the author, or whether It has ever been pub¬ 
lished ; but I send it to the wee ones, hoping that 
it will afford some of them as much amusement 
as It did me In my childish days. 
Alice U. .Adams. 
I lit HUNORY FARMER. 
There was a hungry farmer 
A driving- out to grass, 
And because he wouldn’t go faster 
He beat his poor old animal with longitu¬ 
dinal auriculars. 
CHORUS, 
The rye dum diddle, 
The rye duin day, 
The rye dum diddle. 
The rye ! dum ' day 1 
He went a little farther, 
And he met a pretty miss, 
Be put his arm around her 
And stole u little—apple out ot her basket. 
The rye dum, etc. 
The uiaideiCbi-ttl the donkey 
With a little hickory switch. 
Which made him throw his master 
luto a neigh boring—excavation filled with im¬ 
pure liquidity 
The rye dum, etc. 
And then he saw a squirrel 
That he- wanted for his dinner, 
But he didn't knowhow to catch him. 
Be was such a little-wicked, depraved iudi 
vldnal. 
The rye dum, etc. 
The squirrel climbed a gum tree 
T 111 he got up to the top, 
And he couldn’t go any farther, 
And so he ha! to—turn round and go back 
again. 
The rye dum, etc. 
And now my song is ended. 
We’ll piles around the hat. 
And hope you'll take this chance 
To laugh and to grow—dignified, and alder- 
manic in your proportions. 
The rye dum, etc. 
-- 
"THE TALKING WINDMILL." 
It Is gone now ; 1 do not believe a single splinter 
of It remains, not even the post.-: that supported It., 
and the place where It stood is overgrown with 
tall grass and weeds; but 1 know It stood out. 
there once. " The talking windmill,” yes, it is a 
queer name, but, t choose to call It so, for long ago 
—oh! years and years ago. when I was a little 
school girl—It used to stand or hang out, there be- 
tsveen the two unpainted posts, and In the cold 
nights, when the wind blew fiercely across the 
fields, sending a s' ortn ot flue snow before It. a nd 
making the old trees fairly shriek, and rattling the 
doors and windows, i would listen to lk One 
such night, all of a sudden the old windmill begau 
a loud protest against all this needless bustle and 
rage, now It did gesticulate! how its arms did 
beat and whirl! while in its unearthly voice it, 
plead with the wild night. “ cease, O, cease I 
Cease, o, cease I” it. would cry for an hour at a 
time; then, as If In great anger at, rhe unrelenting 
blast, It would change it* beseeching tone, and cry 
out angrily, “Well, then, rage! well, them rage 1 
Rage and blow l rage and blow !” Then again, as 
if speaking to Itself, it, would keep on repeating in 
a low tone, •• I’m a'cold, I’m a’cold; I am old, 1 am 
old; Winter King. 0. Winter King, I will sing, sing, 
sing." And so it would scold, and fret, and grieve 
away all winter long, often In the blttermld- 
nlghts I would waken suddenly, only to hear the 
poor thing entreating and beseeching, and raving 
and fretting. 
Alter a time, when the usual number of months 
had elapsed, spring came on, and then It seemed 
to grow more content Sometimes It would 
rest all day; on rare occasions, all night, but 
not often, for it was the nature of the thing to 
go around In its own limited circle, it was a very 
busy windmill, and believed in making music 
while the wind blew. Then when the summer 
days came again, and the grass fringed the road¬ 
side and crept over the meadows, and the young 
dandelions looked gladly up to the blue skies, and 
the birds came singing back to our homes, and the 
young lambs were basking in the mellow sunshine, 
and everything said In US sweetest voice, “Ills 
summer, iris summer," then some queer thought 
seized the poor windmill, and It cried out, In its 
strange, squeaking voice, for some one who did 
not return with the summer, over and oyer again 
B repeated Us gloomy cry, "Charley took, char- 
ley Cook, C-li-a-r-l-e-y o-o-o-k,” and so it would go 
on, drawling out the uarne to a great length; then, 
In a sudden passion of grief, repeating it. over and 
over, “ Ch’iy Cook, duly cook,” as fast as it was 
possible for It to speak, and again blending the 
words with " Darling, dear, Charley dear.” Then, 
alter a pause, I would hear it sighing out, "Gone 
away, gone away, gone to-day, to-day, to-day,” 
and for hours it would not cease, but go on 
with Its wild lamenting. I never knew who the 
bewailed Charley was, but suppose the wind must 
have borne all sorts of strange tidings to my rest¬ 
less friend, for it always seemed to bn affected by 
the wind, and ever after, until r looked ror It and 
It was not, it ceased not to mourn for lost Charley. 
Well, it was a long time ago, and the windmill 
DeloDgs ro the past: but sometimes i seem to hear 
some of the old dirge, sung plaintively in the sum¬ 
mer nights when the wind is among the trees, and 
sometimes l catch the wild, beseeching tones when 
the winter storm Is abroad, so I fancy It, la the 
voice of the wind spirits talking together of their 
lost mend. I look out at the spot where It once | 
stood; how we children used to play out there ! 
how the flowers grew and blossomed In the flower¬ 
beds just this side and right w the shadow of the 
windmill! Hut they are gone now, all gone: and 
the windmill la gone, and the children are gone, 
too. Ah, me I If to-day they were out there, they 
would not, run aud frolic, but walk with quiet 
footsteps, and speak with the voices of men and 
women. Mrs. Charlotte e. Fisher, 
What the Club Does. 
Dear Uncle Mark;—1 want, to tell you that I 
am glad you originated the Idea of a Horticultural 
(Tub ror the children, for I believe it .will do more 
go'd towards stlmulallng a love of horticulture 
among the youths of our laud than anything else 
could, and than you ever dreamed or. My children 
have always beeu farmers (as much as children 
could be but since they have Joined the club, 
they are more enthusiastic and are finding 
more new beauties In their plants and flowers 
Ulan ever before, and they an particularly proud 
of those wlileli Uncle Mark sem them the seeds of, 
Ihave alway s tried to cultivate a love lor horti¬ 
cultural pursuits lu my children by allowing each 
one to have a little "truck patch” all their own, 
aud permitting them to do what they pleased with 
whatever they raised on it, .... 
Rosa and Letha have shown tlielr gardens to 
some oi their little friends, also their plants that 
are growing from the seed that Uncle Mark sent,, 
and some or them say they are gol ng to try to get 
their parents to take the Rckai so they can join 
the club, too. t. j. a. 
Clermont Co., O. 
--- 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Dear Uncle Mark: —We have received the 
White Tailed null fit aud Dolly' Dutton corn, for 
which we heartily thank you. They came some 
time ago, but tt was boo dry to plant them, aud 
stiff remalusso; perhaps we shall have to wait till 
October l beiore they are planted. Even that late 
they will make a crop here. The ground Is ready 
and manured heavily*, but the manure Is dry as a 
bone. We ure going to harrow It In to-morrow, I 
have been experimenting with some pop-corn, I 
manured the ground well and planted two stalks 
of common field corn with it m each hill to see 
what would lie the result, it was planted late, 
about the 16th of March, and Is Injured some by 
the drought, i want, to keep up the experiment, 
and see if it win not all be pop-corn lu two or three 
years. I gathered is ears troin two stalks, which 
is better than papa wiu do with hts Blunt corn. 
He says he would like to make a compromise 
about that premium. He will take 50 cents on the 
dollar, or even less, and say no more about It. 
Who of the cousins wauls to pet another skunk v 
I can spare a hundred. Don’t all speak at once. 
Your nephew, James Z. Herron. 
Burleson Co., Texas. 
Dear Uncle Mark and Cousins:—W e promised 
to give you a description of our home by* the sea 
side; it will not require much space and btrtVew 
words. We live In a humble coLtage of concrete, 
and when our rather came here the water was 
fifty feet from the dwelling, but now it, tosses 
to and fro within twenty reet o'f the door, it 
might surprise some of our cousins to know that 
the cedars are growing luxuriantly in the salt 
warer. We planted them at the water’s edge to 
prevent the earth rrom washing away, and thus 
far it has proved a great benefit, we have visited 
five State*, but found none or compete with this In 
climate. The. winters are warm and the summers 
are cool compared with those seasons in the Mid¬ 
dle States. Even now while others are complain¬ 
ing of the heat we can al ways find a cool place. 
Otu-family ever’formed a happy household until 
the mill of .line Inst, when in the silence of the 
night our eldest brother was suddenly called from 
us. He had been thrown rrom a horse, and sur¬ 
vived the accident only a couple of hours. He 
was youug, being only 2 L# years old. The stroke 
has oast a gloom over our happy household, and 
carried sorrow to the hearts of many relatives and 
friends. 
We planted the seed that was sent ro my rather 
by the Rural, hut, owing ro the drought, we had 
no success with any except, the Pearl .Jliiet, We 
hope to see some more from cousin Empsle and 
cousin ivy, for their letters were very Interesting, 
We close with love to all from the 
Oopano, Tex. Two Sisturs. 
Dear Uncle Mark :—I have received Hie corn 
und radish seeds you sent me. 1 planted the 
radishes June 16th, and they were up iri four days. 
1 kept the ground moist and loose, and thirty days 
from the Time of planting they* were large enough 
to eat. 1 shall raise some seed if the season Is long 
enough. July nth I prepared the ground for the 
sweet corn by manuring, digging and raking It 
line, i then planted the corn In a single row six¬ 
teen foot long, one grain in each hlU two inches 
deep, the hills one foot apart, The corn was also 
up In four days. To-day (July iffltti) ff, | 3 ,,i T w 
inches high. Many thanks ror these seeds. The 
radishes are just delicious. On the 6th of June I 
planted my beans, and now they are a beautiful 
sight. The rows are two feet apart and the beans 
In hunches of three or four, about eight, Inches 
apart, In the rows. The beans now cover the ground, 
and look like one big plant, ihave this year a 
clump of Tiger Lilies, and there are thirty flowers 
open to-day. in the spring I planted some flax for 
my canary bird, but the grasshoppers have com¬ 
pletely destroyed It. ilow would some, of the East¬ 
ern cousins like to have a swarm or grasshoppers 
land in tlielr gardens i Yours truly. 
Dodge Co„ Neb. Wm. J. Mason. 
Dear Uncle .Mark anu Rural Cousins:—M any 
thanks for the ratfish seed and sweet corn which 
you sent, me. My corn Is up and doing nicely. I 
had some of the radishes for breakfast this morning 
for the first time. They were the best we ever 
• ; papa and mamma thought so, too. I shall be 
sure to save some or both for seed. Our flowers 
i a re not doing very well, because It Is so dry hare. 
1 I think Bob White is a lucky boy to live where It 
rains every day, even if the weeds do grow fast; It 
is easier to pull the weeds than to carry water. 
■ Will you please tell me what scent the enclosed 
geranium leaf Is? Mamma thinks h Is lemon, but 
others say it la not, but don’t know what it Is, 
\ ours truly, bertha Robbins. 
Lacona. 
[The leaf is that of a sweet-scented Geranium, 
but there are hundreds of varieties of this plant 
which differ so little from one another that it Is 
hazardous to name them without the flower, and 
even with the flower 1 might not be able to name 
It.—U. M.] 
Dear Uncle Mark:—I would like to have a 
little place In your circle. I have read for a long¬ 
time the letter* from the cousins, aud would very 
much lLke to become one of them. 1 do not ex¬ 
actly understand about your Horticultural Club, 
but T am very fond ot flower*, t have a good many 
nice house plants, I have five different varieties of 
Fuchsias, several of which are covered with blos¬ 
soms, i also have an Oleander, but It does not blos¬ 
som. I should like very much to know how I can 
mala-, it blossom-would Uncle Mark be kind 
enough to give me information ? I don’t think 
much of any kind of pete, but I just dote on horses. 
I see but few letters from Michigan, sa I hope you 
will print this, lor I would Like to have my state 
represented. Gusta. 
Michigan. 
[if Gusta desires to join the Horticultural Club, 
she mti3t send her full name and address. The 
Oleander should be cut back now, to two or three 
buds on each branch. During the winter, from 
September to March, the plant should have but 
very little water and be kept lu a room where It 
will not get much warmth and yet be safe from 
the frost. Jn March give the plant fresh soli and 
a larger pot. The soli should lie a mixture of rich 
garden loam and leaf mold in equal parts, mixed 
with some well-rotted manure and a little sand. 
Then water freely when it begins to grow, give 
It a place In a warm and sunny window, and if 
there are any flowers in it they wiu be sure to 
come out and show themselves After flowering 
the plant should be kepi dry for a few weeks, then 
cut back and treated as before. The leaves should 
at all times be kept free from scales and dirt.— 
Uncle Mark.) 
Dear Uncle Mark:— I have for along time de¬ 
sired to join your club, but have been afraid that 
my age would be an obstacle, as I am past 20 , but 
seeing that Uncle True is a member, I take cour¬ 
age to beg for admission. 
Permit me to thank you for the splendid seed 
premium. Deflauce wheat, Blunt’s corn and 
Acme tomatoes are doing finely, l have also good 
luck with the flower seeds. 
Crops have suffered some from drought but we 
are to-day having a fine rain. Truly yours, 
Trempealeau Co., M is. j. o. KniON. 
Dear Uncle Mark:—! thought i would write 
and ask you to accept me as a member ot your 
Horticnlcural Club. I think it ts very kind of you 
to start such a society for the benefit of the Rural 
cousins I am very much interested in the boys’ 
and girls’ letters. This Is my first attempt; I wiu 
therefore write a short letter, otherwise I fear it 
will find its way to the waste-basket, i nave qulte 
a patch or potatoes; perhaps I will tell you this 
rail how many bushels I raised. Your nephew, 
Besemer’s Depot, N. Y. Roving Dick. 
Dear Uncle Mark:— l am a little boy only seven 
years old but I can do lots or work; I have a garden 
that l care for myself. pi 
I would so much like to Join your Horticultural 
Club, if you will please put my name down. 
Freddie Stackpole. 
I You are welcome, Freddie, but 1 would Uke to 
know In what part of the United states you live. 
—Uncle Mark.] 
-»-»» 
cuati’er.— One or America's young sons, a few 
days since, boasted of Ills bravery lu staying out of 
doors during a thunder storm. “I like to hear it 
thunder,” he remarked to Ills mother, ana then 
run uui doors, soon came one of those terrible, 
crashing explosions of the heavens, and In rushed 
Bobby to hla mother, "What made you come In, 
1 thought, you lilted lo hear it thunder?” said bis 
mother. " Well, I do when it thunders good, but 
when God lets It right down like this. It's kind of 
scary,” was the reply. 
Sunday Afternoon (sa.oo a year; Springfield 
Mass.,) tor August Is a hot,-weather number, the 
articles being mostly brief and the stories numer¬ 
ous. Their titles and authors ore: -Ruth, Ellen 
W. omey; Through a Glass Darkly, Lizzie W. 
Uhampuey; The Brass Andirons, M. E. Bennett; 
The People’s Prayer, David Ker; and two chap¬ 
ters of Calvin Rev. G. M. Boynton sketches a real 
character in the Gentleman Hostler, and Alfred 
Terry Bacon gives a pen portrait of Leadvllle. 
Tlio Phenomena of Inspiration leads to the con¬ 
clusion that the truly great men of all times are 
as really Inspired us were the prophets of old. The 
Hebrew Faith in immortality la a reply to Our 
Debt to -Socrates lu the March number. The Prob¬ 
lem of Intemperance claims that inebriates need 
physiological quite as muen as moral and social 
treatment, and that, the too abundant meat diet 
of Antei leans promotes lmemjierauce. Prof. Bor¬ 
den P. Botvne writes on The “Ae ir of Atheism. 
There are also The Election of College Studies, 
Some Opinions About Opinion, and contributions 
by Rose Terry Cooke, Susan Coolldge, and Mrs, 
Edward Ashley Walker. 
The poems are many and seasonable. Elaine 
? and Dora Goodale and thc-rr mother, Mi’s. D. H. R. 
s Goodale, have each one. Another young poet, 
Kate St, Clair Greenleaf of Kentucky, has a little 
1 poem of which the Poet Whittier expressed this 
opinion:—"it seems to me to have much sweet- 
Uessand rhythmical beauty." Other verses are 
I by Frank t oxcroft, c. l<\ Richardson, Lucy Lar- 
com, s. W. Duffleld, and Alice M. Eddy. 
The Editor s Table has these articles:—Rebels 
aud Reprobates, The Colleges aud Public Morals, 
Studying Scripture by Samples. 
The name of the magazine will be changed with 
an early issue. 
Ancient and Modern Ideas of Inspiration.— 
The Ancients set God and the universe In opposi¬ 
tion. They often ascribed tho creation of the 
world to a being less perfect than God. They were 
unable by a higher synthesis to reconcile their 
conceptions of Deity with the evil and Imperfec¬ 
tion which they beheld in themselves and In the 
world around. Polytheism had made Deity an 
intimate and familiar presence, that too often 
shared human frailty and vice. It. was the reac¬ 
tion of Semitic Monotheism to send God away 
almost into the region ot the unknowable. It en¬ 
throned Him in far-off and inapproachable majes¬ 
ty and holiness. So jealous wero the Semites of 
the of God's unapproachableness and un- 
searchablenesa that, though in the warmth cf 
religious utterance He was said to have appeared, 
to have revealed H itnself by some name or other¬ 
wise, returning to philosophic accuracy, they 
would speak of such mauirosiatlon as that or some 
emanating power or lower God. and would sooner 
lay themselves open to the charge of believing in 
all aorta of lessen’ divinities as mediatory pots era 
than In the least to appear to make Supreme Deity 
capable of any representation whatsoever. Has 
lie appeared, or uttered His voice, or named Him¬ 
self Jehovah ? And would men hence presume to 
begin to predicate anything concerning His nature 
or mode of exlhJouce '( Ho withdraws Indescriba¬ 
ble aud unnamable Into Ilia absoluteness. 
While God thus dwelt apart, alone In the pos¬ 
session of all that Is good, this gross world, its 
thoughts, works and imaginations wore only evil 
continually, it was totally depraved. It had no 
self-restorative power, it had no Innate ability to 
will or think anything that la good. Even what 
might appear us good works were not so In reality, 
but had without doubt the nature of sin. How 
then wero goodness and truth to appear aud shine 
on the earth ? 11 could only be by an interposition 
of the far-off God; by lowering the celestial sphere 
to inspire or •• breathe ” Its holiness luto the oartu- 
ly. Thl3 was effected by the communication of an 
angel or by the gift ot a dalmon. in these mes¬ 
sengers God was emcaclonslj and iufalllbly pres¬ 
ent. This mechanical Junction of the celestial 
sphere with the terrestrial was denomlatcd Inspi¬ 
ration. ’The conception of Inspiration that inevit¬ 
ably followed was this: They who received these 
divine messages, 1. e., Inspired persons, were uni¬ 
versally regarded as pure mediums. Undoubt¬ 
edly. There was and could be no Annum element 
to tho message. The whole was direct from heav¬ 
en. The Inspired were possessed. “The word 
that the Lord hath put In my mouth, that I must 
speak.” That this logical to fereuee was commonly 
made wo take Philo out of a multitude as witness - 
" A prophet say3 nothing of his own, but every¬ 
thing which he says la strange and prompted by 
some one else. , . , He Is a sounding instru¬ 
ment of Gods voice, being struck and moved to 
sound to an Invisible manner by him.” Again: 
“ When the tfiplue light shines the human light 
sets . . . and this very frequently happens to 
the race or prophets; for the mind that Is in us Is 
removed from us place at the arrival or the divine 
spirit, but Le again restored when that spirit de¬ 
parts.” 
Since then, ancient philosophy made the Inspired 
person a pure medium, “ a sounding instrument or 
God’s voice,” every to spired utterance must be in 
fallible. On this dark background or essential en¬ 
mity and separation between God and nature 
much of past theology lma been outlined, some or 
It has beer, steeped to this utter gloom. This an- 
cleDt falsehood of man’s total depravity and hos¬ 
tility to God yet hangs its sable pall over the theol¬ 
ogy of some. But our view ot nature and or God's 
government tbereor is now radically changed. 
We believe nature to be sacred and God Immanent 
and uunseunt therein. Its Jtypostttsla and cou- 
Bclous aoul. Religion we no longer look upon 
wave come from some etliertal and mystic sea ro 
flood our godless valley with its heal tog waters. 
as we have concluded men to be, not children of 
the devil and ol darkness by nature, but the sons of 
tlielr divine Creator, we find religion to be a tact 
deeply tooled in their moral consciousness. The 
highest manifestation ot the hiding God that can 
possibly he vouchsafed to us, must alter all but be 
divinely human. But If so, If the subllmest reve¬ 
lation of God lo man must be a revelation of Him 
lu and through man. then the genus of great truth 
and high capacity already reside In him by nature. 
A righteous Ufo, then, is the result or drawing our, 
by all manner of education, the God-planted pos¬ 
sibilities within him. ffut how was it attained, 
according to the ancient mechanical view ? it was 
by first driving out and exorcising his old depraved 
nature and bringing In another lu Its stead. 
When a religious pliUosophy teaches that, tn order 
to regenerate a race of helplessly lost beluga, some¬ 
thing must be literally tent from a literally distant 
God, It Is evident that their regeneration must be 
by opus operatum aud Calvlnistle predestination; 
their inspiration must be Infallible, since It com¬ 
municates nothing but tv hat is from above.— Sun- 
dag A fUd'noon. 
-« - ♦- 
The Biclb.— The Bible is the bravest of books, 
Coming from God. and conscious of nothing but 
God’s truth. It awaits the progress of knowledge 
with calm secure y. it watches the antiquary 
ransacking among classic ruins, and rejoices to 
every medal he discovers, and every inscription he 
deciphers; for from that rusty coin or eorroded 
marble It expects nothing but confirmations ofjts 
own veracity— James Hamilton D, D, 
