"Kate, you're a provoking puss, that's what you are. I just told you that his name is not Jerry."

"What is it, then ?"

"I don't know that I shall tell you."

"I can guess-Bobby?" continued Kate, a sly, roguish smile playing about the corners of her pretty red lips.

"No, no, no!" cries Blanche, raising her voice on the successive word, and nearly rising from off her feet with the momentary emotion. "Ah! now I have it. I'll bet a peach it's Peter," cries the madcap. Blanche's eyes get suddenly and particularly bright.

"You don't contradict it-I see it's 'Peter; why I'm sure that's not half so nice as Jerry, and you pretended you didn't like that a bit." Blanche's eyes still grow brighter-diamonds are dull to them.

"Why don't you speak? Are you angry because I've hit on his name? Why, how your heart beats! I can see its motions here ;" and, giving her companion a gentle tap on the chin, she bursts into a fit of laughter.

Blanche drives back her rising emotions, and finds out, over the peach basket, that she has really a very great regard-more than she ever dreamed of-for the young squire in question. She summons her

courage and says

"I shall never love you any more, Kate !"

"Ha ha! wont you, indeed?"

"Never!"

"Then I did guess his name? Ha! ha!".

"No ;" and poor Blanche is so much confused, now that the inward glow of excitement has subsided, that she does not observe that the basket is full, and that the peaches keep tumbling out at one side while she puts them in at the other.

"O! I can't be; you forget yourself."?'

"Me forget myself, indeed; I think you forget yourself!" and Miss, to be impressive, draws herself up in the most approved manner.

Kate, to be convincing, points to the peaches strewn about the ground, when Blanche, suddenly becoming aware of the real cause, looks foolish, and attempts to cough away the feeling. All at once she thinks of an expedient, and resolves to turn the tables against her vivacious relative.

"What would you give to know his name?" she says.

"A dime."

'

"And will you never mention it ???

"Never."

"On your honour ?”

"'Pon honour !"

"As true as you've this day picked peaches?"

"Why, Blanche, how can you doubt me?" her curiosity by this time, in reality, excited to ascertain the name.

"I'm afraid, notwithstanding all you have said, that you'll tell," -continues Blanche, her companion's growing curiosity not being lost on her.

"Then, Blanche, in plain terms you must think me a ".

"Oh! no I don't; but yet I have a reason for saying this." "What can it be? Nothing serious, I hope? He hasn't written confidential billet-doux to you, and I not see it, Blanche ?"

"You don't know all."

"Oh!" says Kate, stamping her foot with impatience, "what is it? Don't keep me in suspense any longer. Speak or when I go home I'll

rummage every drawer in the house but I'll find it.”

"You wouldn't dare."

"I declare I'll tell your ma, then ;" and the young lady begins to feel slightly provoked.

"Turn tell-tale! Oh, Kate! I'm ashamed of you,"

"No, I wont; that was only my fun."

"Ah! you're playing the inquisitor: you'll make me tell my secrets whether I will or no."

'Now, do tell me his name, at least, that's a dear."

Blanche taxes her imagination for a moment to invent a fictitious

Sammy. Yes."

"Sammy Sutton Soapsuds."

Sammy Sutton Soapsuds!" cries Kate, again bursting into a shrill laugh; "what a name for a squire! Ha! ha ha! I wouldn't marry a man with such a name if he was a king, and covered all over with jewels and gold. Ha ha ha!" and she runs off in an ebullition of glee to join a party of girls about to play at blind-man's-buff on the lawn, well satisfied that she has found out the name of her cousin's lover; while Blanche, not quite so blithe, is happy to think that she had ironically disposed of a subject of more importance to her than she had at first conceived.

We never, in the course of our journeyings, came across a circuit of farm-houses but some one of the tenantry had pretensions to the violin -most generally an old grey-headed fellow, blind of an eye, who could, by dint of hard scraping, get through a certain number of quick steps, marches, and fandangoes, venerable on account of their antiquity, the melodies of all of which, by some strange analogy, which we have never seen properly explained in any essay on the science that we have read, bear a striking resemblance to each other. It is not to be presumed that our farmer will engage a brass or string band "from town," as the Jersey folks say; but his guests must be content to trip it on the green sward to the music of an old fiddle-perhaps the G string not at home, too-and "Barbary Allen," arranged as an allegretto, is struck up and gone through with, at the rise of some eclat, not forgetting the really clever performance of "Blue-eyed May," with ad libitum variations, which are much admired, and which the girls particularly call "so very, very sweet."

A country reel follows; but the girls soon grow weary, and the wag

gons are got ready for home. "Good bye, good bye!" is the universal shout. 66 Many thanks! many thanks!" is echoed back from the household, and now a regular flying artillery of kissing takes place. The old maiden aunts have spruced up, and being general favourites, or rather on account of having past the spring time of their lives, more liberties are taken with them by the young farmers, who bestow sundry kind taps on their shoulders, and call them "nice young creeters, something after the fashion that gay old gentlemen in bag wigs poke the sides of volatile young spendthrifts in the old comedies.

The girls, too, have a hearty squeeze all around. They are not let off without some fond demonstration. Kate kisses Beatrice, and Fanny does the same to Rosabel, and Blanche makes a regular tour of red lips, being the general favourite of the company. Then one by one the vehicles drive off, until the bulk of the guests have departed, the omega of as pleasant an interchange of friendship as a philanthropic Howard would wish to witness.

It now remains for the fruit to be sorted into bushels, according to its size and quality, the decayed portion being reserved for the swine. The ripest and most advanced is sent at once to market, while the least matured is retained for future disposal. The peach crops form a very important item in the staples of New Jersey produce, and its evanescent susceptible nature renders it an object of anxious solicitude to the thrifty farmer, who combines in this case the twofold practice of an orchardist and husbandman.

It is scarcely worth while to trespass on the time of the reader in following the peaches to market, and from thence to the tables of all classes of the inhabitants of the various districts of the republic; suffice it to say, that their cheapness enables the very poorest to enjoy their evening saucer of sliced peaches and milk, and, for a month or two in the latter part of the summer, puddings and pies of this delightful fruit are quite the mode. The scenes at the market are often of a really grotesque character. As far as the eye can reach tens of thousands of baskets are piled, one upon another, and guards are stationed to protect them from the depredations of the urchins, who flock about in troops, watching every opportunity, during the inattention of the guard, to cram their pockets. Frequently, when detected, a chase takes place, and the boys, not particular to what quarter they bend their flight, so that they escape well loaded with the "stolen joys," scramble over the baskets, upsetting the peaches, and causing them to scatter and roll about like an infinitude of little red balls chasing each other on a cricket ground. Away they fly-boys, peaches, and policeman--and as the contest depends upon the fleetness of the pursued and the nimbleness of the pursuers, it can scarcely be set down whether the young knaves escape to munch the mellow spoils, or are gallanted to the magistrate's office to await an impeachment (not intended for a pun), for the fraudulent appropriation of property, set down in the statutes as gross and illegal.

The prices of the fruit fluctuate. During the month of July the first quality usually commands seventy-five cents (equal to three shillings

sterling) per basket, and, at the height of the season, it is as low as ten cents. Cases have been known, during a highly prolific year, when the farmers have been willing to dispose of it at almost any price-a mere song, as the saying goes, and many a basket of beautiful fruit has gone its way for five cents. Gallons and gallons of jam are prepared during these fruitful periods, for exportation; and even with this provisional adaptation of the fruit, much of it goes to waste and decay.

As long as the season lasts the streets and thoroughfares abound with peach stones, which are gathered by the boys, the kernels of which they sell, for a trifling sum per hundred, to the chemists and confectioners. So it will be seen that the peaches are no mean matter in the sum total of American fruit, both for quality and quantity; and we cannot close this somewhat rambling sketch with a better design than wishing they were equally cheap, plentiful, and delicious in Great Britain.

THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY.

There is no help for it-singular things will happen!

Of course.

And if you've nothing better to do, dear reader, lend us your attention for a few moments.

Miss Angelina Leonora Lipsy was a sentimental young creature, who had a narrow escape of being beautiful; that is to say, she had dark lustrous eyes, dazzling white teeth, rich ruby lips, a chiselled outline of oval countenance, but, hang it all-her hair was picturesquely red ! Cruel Nature! why were ye so bountiful in every other respect, to blight by a crowning and ridiculous contrast? While ye were about it, why not make the job complete?-why destroy so much harmony by a single error? Had the hair been deep brown, or black, all would have been well, or, for the matter of that, dark auburn; but red-unmistakable, decided, atrocious red-Oh! it was too bad, and we must cry out against it. Nature ought to have known better; and when Miss Angelina Leonora was launched into vitality, she (Nature, of course) must have been in a fit of peevishness, or felt wickedly unamiable at the

moment.

And Miss Leonora was not only within one of being beautiful, but we may apply the same remark to her accomplishments. She could execute crayon drawings with considerable skill, and showed grace in dancingbut her forte lay in the piano. This was her celestial harbour. How bewitchingly she would have sung if she had not lisped! Her voice, a mezzo-soprano of a fair octave and a-half, floated and quivered till the heart leaped with delight. Then her selection of pieces-bravuras, cabalettas, ariettas, and ballads from operas, were heaped upon great racks invented for their reception. And Miss Lipsy's taste-how varied it was, to be sure! not tied down to Beethoven and Mozart, and circling only the difficulties of Glück and Donizetti-by no means! One moment she would soar in Astrifiamnanto's prettiest bit, and the next twirl the

dying tones of "Daniel Tucker." It was now Lucia, and then "Look ye" from grave to gay→→→

"From lively to serene," &c.

But our young friend, even with the drawbacks of florid locks and mincing articulation, had lovers; and it is of these lovers we would now speak. They formed an acquaintance with her at the same time at an evening party, and both had fallen in love with her at the same moment. Their six eyes came in simultaneous contact-Love's telegraph was at work-and it would seem there was power sufficient in her two to play the mischief with their four. It was a case of madly mutual love, with out the graceful benefit of priority. So it stood.

The younger of the suitors was a Mr. Thompson Thompsons-a poet, gentleman on town, and general beau. He gloried in plaid trowsers, salmon-coloured braces, dare-devil tile, and, in fact-was fast! Between ourselves and the post, dear reader, he was the favoured one!

The other, a certain James Crack, or, as he was called for shortness, "Jim Crack," a watchmaker by occupation; a journeyman that could always earn his fifteen dollars a week as easily as "turn his hand over," if he would only "stick to work." But there was the trouble-he loved women better than watches, and preferred lips to levers. Strange that such things are, and-

"Overcome us like a summer's

These personages were friends, or, more properly, acquaintances; and though it was heart-consuming for each to know that the other loved the same object, yet the passion had been kindled at the same moment and in the same place. Here each felt the unfortunate want of priority!

Crack, can't we arrange it somehow?" Thompsons would say appealingly, anxious to buy off the love of his rival; "I think I love her better than you."

"I'm confident you don't," Crack would reply; "I'd go through fire and water to serve her.'

"I'd

go the water, because I can swim," Thompsons would add; "but for the fire-I'd rather decline that, as I'm anything but a salamander."

It was the custom of the couple to meet every other evening at a bowling-saloon in Broadway; and some six weeks after the match of passion had been ignited, Crack-who was sitting moodily in a fauteuil scanning his finger-nails, while Thompsons was rattling away in praise of a new ballad he had just written, in which constancy and devotion were prominently brought forward-started up as if possessed of a brilliant idea, and confronted his fellow-in-love.

"Thompsons, I've a grand thought popping through me."

"Is it possible?"

"Yes; but first allow me to ask-as far as you can be, under the eircumstances you're my friend, are you not?"

"How can you ask?"

"Good. Now listen to what I say."