acknowledgments or expressions of gratification. She was happy to have been able to gratify us. Having finished her round, she folded her apron, laid it in its place, and led us out with the air of an amiable and obliging gentlewoman.

There was much "rural felicity" enjoyed in that hill country, more pleasant in memory than capable of being conveyed by description. One may tell of the exploits performed in a long waggon, its bottom formed of loose planks, with a temporary frame laid on to hedge in the travellers; the amazing quantity of light chairs it could contain, according to the number of sitters-with the children nestled in the straw at our feet. But who can convey the light-hearted merriment, the wit, the anecdote, and specially the peals of laughter, when jerks in the road jumbled us all against each other! The diversion was indescribable, when one of the foreigners, ill-informed as to the construction of the conveyance, fancied, as she felt a loose plank occasionally rise and fall, yielding to the inequalities of the road, that a great boa constrictor, or some such comfortable consociate, was nestled in the straw and about to waken.

Having left the carriages of the city, and the steamboats and railways of the low countries, we seemed also to have left the dread of bumps and bruises, and our city gravity behind us.

The object of one of these novel journeys was to visit a farmer and his family a few miles off. We

found the house snug and comfortable, the rooms opening into each other, and a large centre-stove, which did duty on both sides of the wall, having the chief part of the cooking apparatus on the kitchen side, and one or two places where pans or dishes might be placed on the side of the parlour. They are a sober-minded, Christian people. The great enjoyment of the large and blooming family in winter is the practice of sacred music. The father, a man of a very beautiful countenance and good musical powers, teaches the young people, and also leads the singing in the rustic church. After our arrival in the evening, we had a meeting for prayer, attended by other families within reach. And then a tea-such a tea! for variety and ingenuity in cake-making, and "sass," as the Dutch call sweetmeats, and all good things, as one may never see again except in the eye of memory. The table groaned under its load, and it must be confessed that a lively party of upwards of a dozen did their very best to relieve it of its groans. Our talk was of markets, and stock, and such country matters; of the minister whom they longed to procure, to occupy the place left vacant by one who had gone to a secular occupation to find a richer pasture for his family. They reckoned the district poor and not able to sustain a minister; though, judging by the many comforts and the air of plenty in all around us, it is probable the congregation needed some enlightenment on that subject. If spiritual

wants had come as keenly upon their minds as the necessities of the body do, they could have found a way to make a minister as comfortable as they are themselves. They are the sort of people who don't much relish parting with money, but who, for all that, might come out very liberally on occasion of a "bee," and feel both pride and pleasure in opening their hands lavishly when the gift is one of their own devising. They were computing how many dollars each family within range of their little church might subscribe, and feeling painfully the want of a pastor.

We made our way on the Sabbath to the said church, a member of our party officiating. Some walked; those who were most taken care of journeyed in a kind of large open chaise, and the rest were seated on chairs in the customary waggon. We found the small edifice on the summit of a knoll, greensward all around it, and no path in particular through the field or two nearest it. It was neatly painted and clean-looking, according to the custom of the country, and filled with thriving families, who did lift up the voice of praise with all their might. They looked intelligently attentive, and were, I doubt not, very glad to have their closed place of worship opened once more.

There is a great difference between the aspects of the citizen and the countryman. In this fine airy region, where the thermometer does not rise in the height of summer to those prostrating fever heats

to which it does in the cities, the people have enough of flesh on their bones, and roses on their cheeks, and have an air of mental repose, along with good sense, good temper, and sufficient bodily activity. In the cities, it is almost distressing to look on the sharp thin faces traced too clearly with lines of care. If you walk up streets down which the merchants come at morning to their offices, you may meet a few easy loungers enjoying their cigars, but the chief part are looking keenly before them at-nothing. Their eyes are wide open, but what they see is some vessel due but not heard of; some venture to San Francisco the supercargo of which they begin to suspect; some speculation to South America or China about which they are anxious; some bill to be protested; some bad debt to be pursued. Merchants pay heavily for their wealth. It is not to be wondered at that a villa in the country should be the great object in their distant vista; nor much to be. wondered at, that when it is gained, they have not the habits which enable them to relish it entirely.

Such is life! We pursue objects, and when gained we find them but shadows. We are ourselves shadows, and quickly shall have left our place to others.

When in the low country, we much enjoyed the (to us) novel sounds and sights of a warm climate. The fireflies gleaming out on all sides during the evening walk-now in the grass and again at a small height in the trees, about the bushes and among the

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hay-cocks, the whole air seemed luminous with their tiny, darting lights. The frogs-the little nimble, almost insect-like tree-frog, and the large still waterfrog.

I remember the frogs' pond of my childhood, when life and the season alike were in their spring, and everything was a source of delight or wonder, but I never heard tones so deep and ground-shaking as in the ponds of Long Island and New Jersey. The katydids, too, were a perfect novelty. I never learned exactly of what species the mysterious disputants are, and supposed them at first to be talkingbirds. I have since been told they are insects, and the dispute is carried on by the sound of their wings. The legend is, however, that Katy is accused of breaking the bottle, and the controversy about it begins at dusk. "Katy-did," in a shrill tone"Katy-didn't," in bass. "Katy-did" "Katydidn't." Two such pertinacious controversialists had their home in two fine old trees in the front of a mansion, whose external beauties and internal hospitalities formed an enchanting retreat. Often in daylight I tried to find something in those trees that might be owner of such power and pertinacity of voice, but without success. They again proved their residence, however, by sunset, and all night long the discussion endured. Be awake at what hour you might, they were at it; and one was ready to cry out, "No matter whether she did, or she didn't, would you but be quiet!" I unfor