and you could hardly go for any distance in
any direction from the farmhouse without
coming upon groves of chesnut trees, the
prickly burrs now swelled to their largest
size, and now yellowing in their full ripeness.
I pity the man or woman, whether of
fifteen or fifty, who could not enjoy one of
these innocent, blithe, rustic parties on a
berry or chesnut excursion. What opportunities
did the convenient clumps of bushes
present for guileless flirtation! How still
would the youth or maiden be, who had
discovered a spot particularly prolific of the
fruit, for fear the others would find it out,
and hasten to partake of its riches! How,
sometimes, notwithstanding the rivalry of
the day—each striving to outstrip the
others in the quantity of berries picked—
the girls could not refrain from screaming
with delight when a thick cluster of the
little black fruit met their eyes! What
racing there was; what eager clutching and
good–humoured scuffling! How cunningly
did the damsel who had made a discovery
allure her "preference" away from the
rest, to help her reap the harvest! Then,
in the chesnut gathering, how fond the
fellows were of showing off, to the
astonishment of the female portion of the
party! The American chesnuts are smaller,
more tender, more sweet, and far more
delicate, than the European, and are
delicious to the taste in their natural state,
as well as roasted or boiled. So, when the
lads had thrown down a large pile of the
thick burrs, with many an accident
(purposely brought about), of the obstinate
prickles sticking in the hair of the girls,
as they came down, necessitating much
care and very close proximity on the part
of the youths to extricate them; and when
the girls had gathered them together; all
hands would sit down around them under
the capacious shade and proceed to enjoy
a hearty feast. Sometimes a fire would
be built, and the fruit roasted on the
spot.

The country folk, almost everywhere in
the New England States, are fond of music.
There are few houses without some musical
instrument or other. The girls must have
their modest little piano, or harmonium,
or guitar; the boys affect fiddle playing,
trumpet blowing, or the violoncello or flute.
One of our pleasantest summer pastimes
was to organise a serenading party, and to
go through the country roads on a moonlit
night, in a long line of rustic vehicles.
To be sure, the songs were simple ballads,
or ancient negro melodies, and possibly
the harmonium did not always keep time
with the violoncello, or the flute with the
guitar; but that only made things the
more hilarious, and nobody, in those merry
times, thought of criticising.

In the autumn, just before we returned
to our city labours, Farmer Standish made
his winter cider. His cider mill stood
just beyond the barn, in a little dip of the
valley; and it was interesting to witness
the process of the cider–making from the
heterogeneous pile of apples—good, bad,
and indifferent—gathered for the purpose.
The mass having been shaped in the press,
and cut all around into a compact and
shapely cheese, the upper wooden press
was jammed down upon it; and forthwith
the juice began to spurt and sputter,
run down the sides of the cheese, and
hasten through the little gutters to the
big tub placed ready to receive it. We
all had straws, and indulged ourselves
without limit. "Sucking cider through a
straw" is an old New England—for aught
I know an old Old England—custom, and
when the company in which you do it is
of the right sort, it is pleasanter than it
may seem in print.

The FOURTH VOLUME will be commenced on Saturday,
June 4, with a New Serial Story, entitled,
THE DOCTOR'S MIXTURE,
Which will be continued from week to week until
completed.

A Short Serial Story will also be commenced in the First
Number of the New Volume, entitled,
IN THAT STATE OF LIFE.
And will be continued from week to week until completed.

MR. DICKENS'S NEW WORK.
Just Published, PRICE ONE SHILLING,
PART TWO OF
THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD.
BY CHARLES DICKENS.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY S. L. FILDES.
To be Completed in TWELVE MONTHLY Numbers,
uniform with the Original Editions of "PICKWICK"
and "COPPERFIELD."
London: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, Piccadilly.