THE COUNTY FAIR.

A MILD, hazy, dreamy day in ear

T

ber. The place - the shire-tow County, where the Courts are held. - a very early one in the morning.

Cattle have been coming in, in dro some time, hurried forward by men in and boys on foot who are dressed for t ring events of the day. The tavern-do opened, and the landlords are out in the sleeves, sweeping the steps and the grou before the windows. People are slow one by one awaking to the dawn and it demands, up and down the village street lect herds of stock straggle along throug town, from time to time, and file off grounds just behind, where they go into quarters as may have been designated proper committees.

Presently a wagon, or two, rolls leis along, bringing a load of handsome poul its capacious body, coops of geese, d

and hens of every known blood, breed, and variety. A colt comes whinnying at the foot of her dam, both of them to add to the day's attractions in the list of live-stock.

There is a sweet rural fragrance everywhere. You can even smell new-mown hay, in imagination, with the sight of the strings of jogging oxen and the sound of the herds of lowing cows. The sun comes over the street, at last, and the whole town grass, trees, and houses - is steeped in the yellow glory of an autumnal morning.

By eight o'clock the crowds begin to gather everywhere. First, they group in little knots on the corners, and along down the sides of the street; and afterwards they get mixed up in a homogeneous mass. The chief centre of all attraction in the village is the town-house, where are to be seen the various articles of female ingenuity and industry, and all the untold products of flower and kitchen gardens; likewise, tempting specimens of bakery, of butter and cheese, and of all those other creature comforts that impart such a rich creaminess to the life of the generous farmer.

The one other point of attraction, to divide the honors of the day with the attention of the thousand spectators, is the "Show-Grounds."

To the real lover of rural sights and with an imagination to be inflamed ar pathy to be excited by such things, t very place to which his feet turn at hour in the morning.

Pens are constructed of rough boar ing over an area of several acres. Ti tacked upon them, inscribed with the of those who own the contents. Yo at the head of the row with some fine bläting in your face and eyes as if they you for a relative long absent. Next pen of handsome red cows; then brindl clear red-and-white, grade cows, that ar some enough to be of full blood; ther then more cows; more calves; cows

cows again, one, two, and three in pretty heifers, as pretty as ever graced name or a new cedar milk-pail; then sh Leicester, Cotswolds, Southdown, and N in various strains of crossing.

The sheep huddle timidly into the corners of their pens, and look out throu crevices as if they wanted to ask the Co tee when this tiresome pen-performance be over. Their white and downy wool ca the eye for a long row of piney divisions then succeeds the department of swine.

farmer friends believe in pork, even as, at the South, they return ever to their bacon. With a fair proportion of pork, cabbage, potatoes, and beans, they would get through the hardest winter, or the longest year, with almost the luxurious content of an early Roman Emperor; even old Heliogabalus could not have prided himself more loftily on his turbot and peacock sauce. The Hog used to be the guardian spirit of the New England farm, so it might have been contended; for the population certainly worshipped him in all forms and on all occasions. The farmer could scarcely seat himself at his table without finding his old swine-friend there before him. We have changed that a little now, but not altogether; as the principles of physiology are more widely spread and become better understood, we may hope, all of us, to "return to our muttons."

But Piggy stands up and lies down in these pens at the Show, knee-deep in nice, clean straw, studying human nature by the help of that inquisitive little eye as it throngs past, and sometimes seeming perplexed- and with reason to settle it whether himself or those who stir him up so unceasingly may be charged with the more genuine hoggishness. Strange as it is, everybody looks over the pens at the

swine; and all the little boys of th peep through the cracks at the white pigs trying to hide in the straw, and them in mean and mimicking derision

There is a ploughing-match on an o hard by, which the sturdy young farme in numbers; for it is the plough that in all the triumphs and rewards of the systems of agriculture. Fine yokes clear red, descendants of the elegant that hail from old Devonshire, stand a the outer limits, and the Committee a ining their good points with due care a ness. Then the few horses that are here are held all the while by grooms, a pass along from one to the other, " horse" with more or less confidence, ac to their tastes. The neighing and whi increases the confusion of sounds, and, with the lowing of cattle and the blea sheep, brings out the spirit of rusticity utmost; one can realize, on the spot, th tiest rural picture ever sketched in E poetry.

There is general bustle, very soon; th eral Committees, with ribbons flying from button-holes, are moving briskly from p pen, paper and pencil in hand, getting