I could reach it with my hand; for, as you may perceive, the opening is too small to admit of my having got in; and still more fortunately, the door of the room was open, so that I could see the whole danger of the scene. The lion was beginning to move, perhaps with the intention of making a spring; there was no longer any time to think; I called softly to the mother not to be afraid, and invoking the name of the Lord, fired my piece. The ball passed directly over my boy's head, and lodged in the forehead of the lion immediately above his eyes, which shot forth as it were sparks of fire, and stretched him on the ground, so that he never stirred more.

A MODERN DIALOGUE. THE following took place not long since: Applicant-Are you in want of a laborer sir? Gentlemen-I am.

Our children crowd close behind us and they will soon be gone. In a few years not a living being can say "I remember him." We lived in another age, and did business with those who have long since slumbered in the tomb. Thus is life. How rapidly it passes! Oh! blessed are they who are held in everlasting remembrance.

WOMEN STRONGER THAN OXEN. It is related of a certain New England divine, who flourished not many years ago, and whose matrimonal relations are supposed not to have been of the most agreeable kind, that, one Sabbath morning while reading to his congregation the parable of the supper in Luke xiv. in which occurs this passage-"And another said I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray thee to have me excused; and another said, I have married a wife, and therefore cannot come,"

Gentlemen-Are you a reformed drunkard! Applicant-No sir, I never drank in my life. Gentlemen-I am sorry for that; but perhaps I can do something for you yet. Were you ever in the State Prison !

a

Applicant (indignantly.) No, sir, I am very poor man, sir, but, thank God, I'm honest. Gentlemen-(rising in a rage.) Get out of my sight, you infernal puppy! what do you mean by coming here and asking for work! I'd have you to know I'm a philanthropist, and I wont give any employment to a fellow who has never even been in a watch-house, or seen the inside of a Police Court. If you'd only stole a gridiron-but git a long about your business-you ain't even a d-d rascal !

A CURE FOR POST-BOYS. THE philanthropist, Howard, finding in traveling, that the coachmen would seldom comply with his wishes, hit upon an expedient to cure them. At the end of a stage, when the driver had been perverse, he desired the landlord to send for some poor industrious widow, or other proper object of charity, and to introduce such person and the driver together. He then paid the latter his fare, and told him, that as he had not thought proper to attend to his repeated requests as to the manner of being driven, he should not make him any present; but, to show him that he did not withold it out of a principle of parsimony, he would give the poor person double the sum usually given to a postilion. This he did, and dismissed the parties. He had not long practised this mode, he said, before he experienced the good effects of it on all the roads

where he was known.

THUS IS LIFE.

If we die to-day, the sun will shine as brightly and the birds will sing as sweetly to-morrow. Business will not be suspended for a moment, and the great mass will not bestow a thought on our memories. "Is he dead?" will be the solemn inquiry of a few, as they pass to their pleasure or their work. But no one will miss us except our immediate connections, and in a short time even they will forget us, and laugh as merrily as when we sat beside them.

off his spectacles, and looking around on his hearers, said, with emphasis

"The fact is, brethren, one woman can draw a man farther from the kingdom of Heaven than five yoke of oxen!"

TRUE PHILOSOPHY.-Hein, a Dutchman, rose from a cabin-boy to be an Admiral, and was killed in an action in which he was victorious. Their Mightinesses sent a deputation to condole with his mother at Delft. The old woman, paying no regard to their honors, or the honor done to him said, "I always foretold that Peter would perish like a miserable wretch, as he was. He loved nothing but rambling from one country to another, and now he has received the reward of his folly."

A PERTINENT REPLY.-It is said that a subject of the King of Prussia, a talented mechanic, being about to emigrate, was arrested and brought before his majesty. "Well, my good friend," said the king, how can we persuade you to remain in Prussia ?" "Most gracious sire, only by making Prussia what America is." He was allowed to emigrate.

it is sifted through a ladder, and all that falls through goes to the officers--all that sticks to the steps is left for the men."

The Rural Repository.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1847.

THE STEAMBOAT HUDSON. THIS fine boat which runs from our City, to New-York, has

just been thoroughly repaired, and can now compete as regards elegance and comfort, with any of the Steamers of her size

on our river. Her State-rooms are as roomy and commodious and as well ventilated as those of any other steamer. We take great pleasure in recommending this truly excellent Boat, to the Traveling public and to the citizens of Hudson and its vicinity especially, as worthy and deserving of their patronage, they will find her officers and men obliging, urbane and attentive, and the boat every way calculated for their convenience.

THE GAVEL.

THIS monthly Magazine, devoted to Odd-Fellowship and General Literature, has been purchased by Clark W. Bryan, and removed from Albany to this city, where it is now published. It is a cheap and well-conducted Magazine, and worthy of the support of the extensive Fraternity, to whose interests it is devoted. Each number contains 32 pages, which at the close of the year, makes a handsome volume for binding. The October No. contains a beautiful steel Engraving of P. G. S. Thomas Wildey, the founder of Odd Fellowship in America. Terms $1,00 per annum in advance.

Letters Containing Remittances, Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last, deducting the amount of postage paid.

A. S. R. Waterbury, Vt. $2,00; Miss L. M. Winooski Falls Vt. $5,00; C M. R. Cold Spring, N. Y. $1,00; D. H. New London, Ct. $1,00; P. M. Java Village, N. Y. $3,00; Miss S. B. Union Square, N. Y. $1,00; J. W. S. Castleton, N. Y. $5,00; 1. C. Saccarappa, Me. $3,00; S. J. N. Big Brook, N. Y. $1,00; P. S. A. Hoesville, N. Y. $1,00; J. W. K. Fort E. G. Greene, N. Y. $1.00; P. M. Bristol, N. Y. $3,00; H. R. Covington, N. Y. $1,00; M. R. Keeseville, N. Y. $1,00; Westford, N. Y. $10.00; P. M. Allen Hill, N. Y. $5,00; W. H. S. Penn Yan, N. Y. $1.00; J. V. S. Claverack, N. Y. $2.00; L. C. Copake N. Y. $10,00; G. D. Red Hook, N. Y. $1,00; S. E. H. Fredonia, N. Y. $0.50; A. C. Lansingville, burne, N. Y. $10,00; Mrs. S. D. South Dover, N. Y. $1,00; N. Y. $1,00; A. S. Rainsville, la. $2,00; M. P. M. WoodO. C. Owego, N. Y. $2,00.

MARRIAGES.

In this city, on the 30th ult. by the Rev. Dr. Gosman. Peter Bogardus, to Miss Mary N. Freeland, daughter of Leonard Freeland Esq. of this city.

With the above marriage we received a slice of cake, for which we return our thanks.

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two that are linked in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die. On the 23d ult. by Rev. Leroy Church, Mr. John C. Potts to Miss Mary Clum, all of this city.

Jacob Finkle, to Miss Sarah Halsted, both of Ancram.

At Pine Plains, on the 4th ult. by Rev. Wm. N. Sayre, Mr.

At Huntingdon, Ct. on the 22d ult. by Rev. E. S. Porter, Mr. Wm. C. Wooster, of Chatham 4 Corners, to Miss Mary,

daughter of Lucius Gilbert, of the former place.

West Sand Lake, Rens. Co. to Margaret Mesick, of the first

At Chatham, by the same, on the 30th ult. Henry Mott, of

named place.

In Claverack, on the 2d inst. by Rev. Mr. Himrod, Mr. Abram Odell, to Miss Christina Vosburgh, all of the above place.

DEATHS.

In this city, on the 24th ult. Sarah, wife of Theodore H.
Jenkins, aged 37 years.
On the 25th ult. Sarah E. daughter of Maria Harvey, aged
10 months and 23 days.

On the 28th ult. Isaac Hodge, in his 81st year.
On the 29th ult. Anna Mead, in her 44th year.

At Philadelphia, on the 30th ult. Medona E. daughter of
Joseph and Elizabeth Mitchell, aged 3 years and 8 months.
In Kinderhook, on the 19th inst. Mr. Joseph Wolfe, recently
from Germany.

At Stuyvesant, on the 21st ult. Barent Vanderpoel, Esq. in the 84th year of his age. Mr. V. was one of the oldest inhabitants of this county, and had occupied and served in a great many responsible offices of trust.

Original Poetry.

Forthe Rural Repository.

THE MOTHER'S GRAVE.

"Tis Autumn! and the faded green
Of rustling woods delight the eye,
And o'er the far extended scene,

The pleasing shades of twilight die.
One only star has kissed the flowers,
One moonbeam shines upon the wave,
And by its light I seek the bowers,
Which hide my mother's quiet grave.

Upon her bed the blossoms spring,

Pellucid waters near her stray, Amid those trees the linnets sing,

Or dream their midnight hours away. The pearly dew falls sparkling there, The violets round its margin steal, And children, at the hour of prayer,

Beside that grave are wont to kneel.

My mother! oh, how strange appears
Thy hallowed name to lips like these,
"Tis pregnant with contrition's tears,
"Tis big with sweetest memories.
Thy love was too refined a bliss,
With life's uncertain sun to set;
Thy winning smile, thy soothing kiss,
In fairer climes await me yet.

The pictures of departed things,

Do now around me softly fly,
And strikes my harp's deserted strings,
In tones of long-lost melody.

Friends which have been, but now are not,
Come back to chide me as I weep,

As if around this sacred spot

They lingered, gentle watch to keep.

Fond mother! if a saddening spell,

Its sullen wand should o'er me wave,

If lingering like a last farewell,

I seek thy green secluded grave;

A moment leave those blissful skies,
And hastening through the fields of air,
Shed on thy child's uplifted eyes,
The holy dews of fervent prayer.

I thought not when in childhood's home,
When kindred voices mingled there,
That o'er my pilgrim path would come
Such nights of pain, such days of care.

I thought not that the light of life,
So soon would loose its sunny glow,
Nor blighted hopes, nor sickening strife,
Imprint their ensigns on my brow.
Though eyes there are that sparkle bright,
And love's pure glance in them I see-
"Tis not the sweet, the living light,

Which thine, dear mother shed on me.
When thou who formed of life a part,
To other worlds was called away,
Dark shadows gathered round my heart,"
I fell to gloomy thoughts a prey.
Oh, mother could I hear thy voice,
And catch thy spirit-tones so dear,
"Twould make this aching heart rejoice,
"Twould chase away this scalding tear.
No boon remains to make amends

For blessings that expired with thee;-Youth's sunny dreams, its many friends, Exist as but in name to me.

I'll fondly weep, but not despair,

For mercy's voice is bovering nigh; She listens to my contrite prayer, She treasures up my every sigh.

And thou dear mother art not dead,

Thine image walks these shades among, And as I sit upon thy bed,

Thou listenest to my mournful song.

Ah yes! I hear in this lone bower,
The lessons taught me at thy knee,
And feel thee still in every hour,

My guardian on life's raging sea.
I mourn not that thy soul has past,
To regions than our own more fair,
But oh, I long to breathe my last,
I sigh to join my mother there.

Sleep, Mother sleep! why should I dread,
Thy silent and sequestered rest,
Made sweeter by the stars which shed,
Their lingering beauty on thy breast.
Thou knowest how oft among these bowers,
I've spent the soothing hours of even;
How oft l've kissed these lovely flowers,
That looked with hopeful eyes to heaven.
Although my joys hung on thy breath.

I grieve not that thy race is run,
Nor would I wake thy soul from death,
Thou loved in life thou holy one;
But wilt thou not my mother dear,
In fervent suppliance bend the knee,
And ask the God thou'rt always near,
To call my soul to him and thee.
Claverack, 1847.

For the Rural Repository. NIGHT.

BY ISAAC COBB.

G. H. A.

THE king of day has left his sapphire throne,
And cast his regal robes upon the clouds.
Now gloomy night her ample curtain draws,
And shuts the fading glory from the scene;
While Cynthia presides among the stars,
And sways her sceptre o'er the silent world.
Fain would I range, at this appropriate time,
The field of thought. But lest without a guide,
I wander far in some forbidden path,

Oh Contemplation, thou mysterious power!
Direct my willing Muse. Alone I stand,
And look abroad upon the hills and groves
Now wrapped in gloom. An awful stillness reigns:
For not a sound I hear, except the note
Of watchful bird, and cricket's merry chirp.
The zephyrs that composed the flowers to rest
Scarce breathe among the trees. Oh sacred hour!

I would that nature ever were as calm,

As free from tumult and unhallowed strife;

No deadly rifle aiming to disturb

The harmony of Sylvan's chosen tribes.

Ten thousand spirits from their haunts come forth,
To guard the lowly couch of weary man,
And breathe the balmy influence around,
That brings repose. While fancy still awake,
Charmed by the touch of some angelic hand,
Soars far away, to those enchanted realms,
Where wasting care and agonizing pain
Are never known. The Poet idly roams
Through vales elysian and through fadeless bowers,
And deems he finds at last, the famed retreat,
Where Autumn's frost and melancholy winds,
The fairest flowers that bloom, may never blight.
Thus rising on imagination's wings,
Remote from halls of Bacchanalian cheer,
And happily secure from threatening harm,
Age, Youth, and Childhood, well may early seek
Their pillows and exhilerating dreams,

Oh, let man slumber on, ye heavenly powers!
And lose in sweet unconsciousness his woes.
What though the splendid palaces of pride,
Thronged with the daughters and the sons of wealth,
Resound the noise of revelry and mirth;
What though the drama draw the crowd away,
And tales of sorrow drown the eyes with tears;
Let nought disturb the sleeper. Nature seeks,
In calm repose, a respite from her toils.

Retiring from the scene the Muse admires,
Now let me to my lonely couch repair,
That slumber may refresh my weary frame,
And tranquilize my o'er excited brain;
That when Morn shall call me to my task,
Obedient to the summons I may rise,

My thoughts ascending to the great First Cause,
In gratitude for His preserving care.
Gorham, Me. 1847.

New Volume, September, 1847.

RURAL REPOSITORY,

Vol. 24, Commencing Sept. 25, 1847.

EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.

Price $1-Clubs from 50 to 75 Cents. THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be devoted to Polite Literature; containing Moral and Sentimental Tales, Original Communications, Biographies, Traveling Sketches, Amusing Miscellany, Humorous and Historical Anecdotes, Poetry, &c. The first Number of the Twenty-Fourth Volume of the RURAL REPOSITORY will be issued on Saturday the 25th of September, 1847.

The "Repository" circulates among the most intelligent families of our country and is hailed as a welcome visitor, by all that have favored us with their patronage. It has stood the test of more than a score of years; amid the many chauges that have taken place and the ups and downs of life, whilst hundreds of a similar character have perished, our humble Rural has continued on, from year to year, until it is the Oldest Literary Paper in the United States.

GONDITIONS.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be published every other Saturday in the Quarto form, containing twenty six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume, making in the whole 208 pages. It will also be embellished with numerous Engravings, and consequently it will be one of the neatest, cheapest, and best literary papers in the country.

TERMS.

Great Inducements to Agents.

Those who send $5 or $7, for a Club, can have one of the above mentioned Volumes (gratis ;) those who send $10, or $15, two; those who send $20, three; and those who send $25 or over, four.

Now is the time to Subscribe.

Any Person who will send the amount affixed to either of the following works, we will send it and the Repository for one year, thus giving the Repository for nothing. The Books can be sent to them by Mail, for about 40 Cents, or an order on the publisher in New-York. SEARS' PICT, DESCRIP. OF GREAT BRITIAN AND IRELAND, 550 pages. Illustrated with Several Hundred Engravings, retail price $2,50; INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE. 600 pages, Splendidly Illustrated, $2.50; NEW PICTORIAL FAMILY LIBRARY, 600 pages, Embellished with Beautiful Engra vings, $2.50; PICTORIAL HIST. OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, 450 pages, containing Several Hundred Engravings, $2,00; PICTORIAL SUNDAY BOOK, 600 pages. Illustrated by Numerous Landscape Scenes, $2.50; NEW AND COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE BIBLE, 700 pages, Beautifully Illustrated, $3,00; BIBLE BIOGRAPHY, 500 pages, containing Several Hundred Engravings, $2,50; WONDERS OF THE WORLD, 600 pages, with Numerous Engravings. $2,50.

Any town that will send us the most subscribers, for the 24th volume, shall be entitled to the 25th volume for half price, each subscriber in such town to receive the Repository during that year for half the sum paid for the 24th volume.

All No subscription received for less than one year. the back numbers furnished to new subscribers during the year until the edition is out, unless otherwise ordered. Names of subscribers with the amount of Subscription to be sent as soon as possible to the publisher.

WILLIAM B. STODDARD. Hudson, Columbia, Co. N. Y. 1847.

We would request all those who receive this No. to endeavor to obtain a few subscribers at least, if not a Club in their vicinity.

Ix the course of our labors as a caterer for information for the million, we have often spoken of the hardships, and lamented over the sufferings, which are but too certainly entailed upon that unfortunate class of female laborers, who from false pride or family prejudices, prefer factory labor or the still more precarious and worse remunerated toil of the needle, to engaging in the more healthful and better paid occupation of domestic service. And whilst we have ever had for our object the raising of this unfortunate class of females in the scale of society, we have ever disdained to minister to their prejudices or to pander to their ignorance, by persuading them that by any other means than that of lessening the competition for employment, can they ever hope to compel the employers to pay them remunerating prices for their labor. We have frequently shown, by the most undeniable arguments and the irrefragability of figures, that whilst the seamstress and the tailoress pine away their youth in some bleak garret or neglected rear

shanty, on a paltry pittance of food and clothing, the German and Irish girls who arrive in this country are comfortably lodged in the large hotels or private residences of our gentry, well fed and enabled to save money to send to their relatives at home. Unfortunately for us, there are no correct statistical data kept in New-York to enable us to show the ravages which discase and death make in the ranks of those who prefer singing the song of the shirt to household service, or a comparison with the "domestic drudge;" yet from a report which has recently been made by the secretary of the state of Massachusetts, of the average deaths of females, we may gather something by which a slight opinion may be formed of the effects of female labor over the duration of life.

The report in question gives the following results of female life in Massachusetts. Ladies, 70; Seamstresses, 39; Dressmakers, 29; Milliners 44; Tailoresses, 38. And this report, be it observed, excludes from its calculations all the females who

die before they arrive at 20, because, in Mass. it is believed that prior to that age female employment has but little influence on the duration of female life!" We think differently but have not space in this brief article for our reasons. We hope, however, that our female readers will ponder on this and ask themselves why ladies should live to 70 and dressmakers be sent to that bourne from whence no traveller returns ere they are 30, even in the state of Massachusetts? Is it because ladies are better fed and clothed, have more exercise in the open air, and are not compelled to pore their hearts' blood out in making shirts at 50 cents, each, or umbrellas at 5 cents? If this is the cause, then we should think that the employment which the real gentlewoman considers to be her lot and portion, that of ministering to the domestic hearth, must be that which would-if preferred-give the greatest amount of health and comfort to the young lady" who is doomed to earn her bread by the sweat of her brow!-Sun. Mercury.