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ly acquainted with him." "I don't know what to say to that, brother," observed Mr. Wilson; "I shall not be fit company, perhaps, for the wisest man in the parish." "I am sure," said Mrs. W. you are fit company for any one, and I should like to visit the genteelest people." "Yonder resides one of our wealthiest farmers," rejoined Mr. Gregory," and they live quite in style, I assure you." “Style, brother," returned Mr. Wilson, "what do you mean by a farmer living in style ?"

"Why," said Mr. Gregory, "it consists, chiefly, in their daughters being educated at fashionable boarding-schools, and when they return home, doing no manner of work: in their sons learning dancing and Latin, and then running away from the plough, and the hay-rick; and in their wives being every thing but what a farmer's wife should be." "Dear uncle," said Miss Patty, "how severe you are; why I always thought that farmers and country people were the most happy and innocent folks in the world-the pretty poems I read the other day say they are." Mr. Gregory, instead of replying to his niece, informed the party that they were now drawing near the house of their rector, "who," says he, "has been in possession of the living about nine months, and, in that short space of time, has contrived to send all the poor folks who are strong and hearty to a meeting four miles off." "How so!" replied Mr. Wilson, "what objection do the poor folks make to him? It is a sad thing, indeed, to be driven from our parish church. I suppose he endeavours to prevent it." "Not in the least, I believe," returned Mr. Gregory; "he is too liberal to think it a matter of any consequence. As to the ground of the

controversy I know little of it; I never enter into such disputations. For my own part, I like his preaching much better than I did his hum-drum predecessor's, who, without a tooth in his head, held his congregation by the ear for an hour together."

While Mr. Gregory was speaking, about twenty ragged children crossed their path, running, with all imaginary speed, as if in pursuit of some most important object. He urged their flight by a promise of all the halfpence in his pocket on their return. "They are scampering," said he, " to the top of the hillin order to await the arrival of some stage. coaches and then they will roll down for the diversion of the passengers."

They now passed the church, where they stopped a few minutes to survey the time-worn fabric, and to read a few of the monumental inscriptions. "I hope to see the inside of this building to-morrow," said Mr. Wilson; "one of my greatest inducements in leaving off business has been, that I may attend more to religion, which, our Saviour says, is the 6 one thing needful.” ”

"We are now," observed Mr. G. Wilson, just coming to the cottage of honest James the woodman; we will step in and have a little conversation with his wife Judith, for he himself is, most probably, in the forest." "Perhaps we may be thought intruders, and put her out of her way," replied Mrs. Wilson. "No, no," rejoined Mr. Gregory, Judith is never put out of her way," at the same time knocking at the door. It was opened by a girl, apparently about eight years of age, dressed in a brown stuff gown, a clean checked apron, her knitting in her hand. "Where is your mother, Mar

gery ?" asked Mr. Gregory. "Suckling farmer Jones's calves, please you, Sir," returned she; "but I expect her back every minute, if you will please to walk in." Miss Patty, who understood nothing of country employment, looked surprised at Margery's intelligence; but the rest of the party knew her meaning. The invitation was accepted, and the company seated themselves. "We shall cut foolish figures," said Mrs. Wilson, "when the good woman returns; we have no business thus to take possession of her house." The little girl replied, with a promptitude above her years, "Gentlefolks often call here to rest themselves, and talk to father and mother." She stood in the chimney-corner, leaving her little stool vacant, evidently from a motive of politeness. "How fast you knit," said Miss Wilson; for Margery, though she had been instructed in the above branch of good breeding, had not been taught to desist from employment at the presence of visitors. "Mother," returned she, never learnt sisters to knit, because they can see to do sewing-work, but I can do nothing else." "Poor child!" exclaimed Miss Wilson, "I am very sorry for you." "Mother says," rejoined little Margery, "that I must not be sorry, but thank God that I am not quite blind, and because 'Squire Nichols says, if I ever should, he will provide for me.”

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The company now took a survey of the room in which they were seated. The floor was brick, of a beautiful red polish. The chimney corner for whiteness might have vied with the driven snow, while the surrounding walls, free from every particle of dust, seemed to say, we should be as white as you, if our mistress could afford it. The dresser and

shelves were still wet from the effect of a recent scouring, the former ornamented beneath by a few shining saucepans, and the latter by six earthen plates, with two dishes in the centre. The brightness of the wooden chairs particularly arrested the eyes of the party. On inquiry they were informed by Margery it was occasioned by the constant application of herbs, and her own labour in rubbing them every day. While they were commending the industry of Margery, Judith, her mother, entered. Under one arm she carried a sweet infant, asleep, and under the other a milk-pail. Her round cheeks resembled in colour a red-streaked apple, and her arms bore evident marks of the boisterous nature of her young suckling. She courtsied in a style sufficiently graceful, and while Mr. G. Wilson was making an apology for their unexpected appearance, placed her baby in the cradle-"Dear fellow !" said she, "he has been cooing, and cooing to the calves, till he has cooed himself to sleep." "Why, what could you do with him, good woman, (asked Mrs. Wilson), while you were suckling the creatures ?” "Dear fellow!" repeated Judith, he always sits as good as gold on a little straw bed just by, as pleased as can be, to see what is going forward.” She then hastened to her cupboard, reached forth a brown loaf and a small piece of cream cheese, spread a coarse but clean napkin on the table, and desired Margery to run into the garden, and see if there were any radishes fit to pluck. The party all protested against these proceedings, but Judith fixed her eyes on Mr. Gregory. "Lauk, Sir," said she, "'tis a poor return indeed." As this sentence evidently implied favors had been received, it tended

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in a good degree to quiet scruples, and the company were soon prevalied upon to partake of the simple refreshment placed before them. Judith strongly recommended her cider, which she called excellent, but the tastes of her guests were vitiated by the habit of indulging in more costly beverage. " Madge," said Mr. Gregory, run over the way, and get a bottle of their best ale," giving her money 'for the purpose, "and put the change in your pocket." Judith instantly disappeared to execute the commission. "Why does your Mother trouble herself?" asked Mr. Wilson. 66 Mother," "returned Madge, 66 never sends us to the public-house, for fear we should learn bad words." Mrs. Wilson commended Judith on her return for her precaution. "Why, Ma'am," replied she, "my husband says, that though we can't give the children the grace of God, we must put them in the way to get it." Miss Patty enquired whether she had any little one amongst the posse they had met running to the hill. "O dear, to be sure not, Miss," replied Judith, "that would be worse than sending them to the public-house. It makes the girls as bold as lions, and the boys as idle as beggars. If they meet 'Squire Nichols in their way, he'll soon send them all scampering home again." Mrs. Wilson now began praising the neatness of Judith's cottage, but was soon interrupted by her exclaiming, "It would be a shame if we had not things neat and comfortable about us, now that we are so up in the world, as the saying is. "Twas the best strawberry season I ever knew in my life last year; our eldest daughter married, and though she is but young, and I say it, she'll make a good notable wife. My husband has not been sick since young Madam Nichols took Sarah to wait upon

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