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THE FARM-HOUSE.
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tribe is very shy, and only seen in the forest. The one we observed this evening was flitting about in a young grove upon the borders of a brook; his red and black plumage, and flirting tail, showing here and there among the foliage.

Tuesday, 3d.—****We had, for several weeks, been planning a visit to Farmer B——'s; our good friend, his step-mother, having given us a very warm invitation to spend the day with her. Accordingly, we set off in the morning, after breakfast, and drove to the little village of B—— Green, where we arrived about noon. Here the coachman stopped to water his horses, and make some inquiries about the road.

“Do you know where B——'s folks live?” he asked of a man in the yard.

“Yes, sir; B——'s folks live three miles from here.”

“Which road must I take?”

“Straight ahead. Turn to the left when you come to the brick school-house; then take the right when you get to the gunsmith's shop, and any of the neighbors about will tell you which is B——'s house.”

The directions proved correct. We soon reached the school-house; then came to the gunsmith's shop, and a few more turnings brought us in sight of the low, gray farm-house, the object of our morning's drive. Here a very cordial and simple greeting awaited us, and we passed the day most agreeably.

 ****

How pleasantly things look about a farm-house! There is always much that is interesting and respectable connected with every better labor, every useful or harmless occupation of man. We esteem some trades for their usefulness, we admire others for