ST. BRITA'S SUMMER.

NoT enchanting, as the North American Indian-summer, but yet tender, charming, and beautiful, is that time in Sweden which we call St. Brigitta's summer, or "the Britt-summer." It commences at the same time as the American after-summer, but it closes much earlier; its life is like a beautiful smile, which for a moment illumines a gloomy countenance.

Already are housed the harvests of our fields, and night-frosts and heavy rain, sometimes snow-flakes, have chased away the beauty of the meadows and the leafy trees; flowers have drooped their heads, and leaves become withered; when, at the commencement of October, occurs a time of bright sunshine and calm weather; when the Swedish landscape, all at once presents a beaming autumnal splendour, with its many-coloured leafage, its brilliant bunches of fruit, the wild-service, and the mountain-ash; its gorgeous sun-flowers, its wortle-berries in the heath, and its beautiful birds, circling about in the tree-tops, and, like the novice, putting on their most glorious attire, just at the moment when they are about to take leave of the beauty of life, and go into their wintry graves.

The northern saint, whose name-day occurs at this season, and whose inward warmth was such that she, during the severest winter, lay upon the earthen floor of the unwarmed convent-cell of Wadstena, and was not conscious of cold, was scarcely less remarkable than is this summer in the midst of the chill, autumnal life of November.

The wild-service and rowan-trees which grew round the parsonage of Solberga, were bright with crimson bunches of fruit, and flocks of gay silk-tails were circling around them, in the brilliant sunshine of a fine morning in the Britt-summer. The parsonage itself, bright and clean as hands could make it, had altogether a holiday appearance, just as if its inhabitants were preparing for a festival. Fresh-gathered juniper twigs were strewn on the floor of the entrance and dining-room; the sun shone gaily through the bright window-panes upon the white tables and fresh flowers.

The pastor's wife had an incredible amount of things to do, she had set all her maid-servants to work, and might be seen herself, with her great bunch of keys, going from garret to cellar, from larder to dairy, from one press to another in the house, looking out table linen and silver and china.

Just at the very time when she was absorbed in the linen-press, in the agonies of choosing among several tablecloths, between the large rose and the little rose, the traveller and the star-patterns, the pastor came into the room and exclaimed:

"Well, my little old woman, it is no use trying to have a moment's conversation with you to day, is it? It is really terrible to think what a great deal you have to do, and how much trouble these schemes and machinations,' as Mrs. Uggla would call them, cause you."

"What's that?" said good little Mrs. Dahl, cheerfully, "trouble! Don't you know that such trouble as this is my greatest delight, especially when it is for the benefit of the Infant School? And the object, and the occupation which it gives-may God bless them! They are my life and my pleasure, and without them I should not like to live. To-day I have been bustling about in the house like a flame of fire, ever since four o'clock this morning, and everything to-day has gone on so well, and

fallen out as I wanted it, just as if it were under the control of some good angel. The dough has risen so beautifully that it is quite a pleasure to see it; and-you don't know what a nice present I have had this morning!"

"I guess-a haunch of venison!"

"A haunch of venison? You are not very far wrong! something quite as good as that: three hares and a woodcock! You know we must cook them for the feast."

"Three hares! a leap for every hare, and a kiss for the woodcock!" exclaimed the pastor, delighted; "I thought I smelt something uncommonly good in the kitchen. But, harkye now, could not we give the sexton's family one. of these hares?"

"That we'll see in the morning, father dear, that is to say, if there happens to be a hare left after our eveningfeast. You must bear in mind that we shall have about thirty people. But, as for that, we might ask the sextons to come and eat a bit of the roast; and-(I think I'll take the little rose; it's true that it is somewhat worn, but nobody will see it by candle-light), and the old women in the poor-house shall each have her loaf for Sunday."

"You are an excellent woman, and a rare house-wife," said the pastor, with all his heart.

"Ah! there is indeed some skill required in being a house-wife, with no more means than I have. Do you know, my old fellow, that I have actually thanked God this very day because I was not rich, for in that case I should not know and feel as I do now, what a pleasure there is in planning, and scheming, and working, so that one's small means may be sufficient for all, and a little to spare! And when I have laboured the whole week, and then at the end find that I have a little over, which I can give away, without detriment to the family, to some poor body or other, is it not a pleasant feeling?

It is, indeed! Besides, there is a fresh life both for body and soul in these occupations, which the rich never can experience. And when I, during the day, go about and look into the farm-yard, or the larder, or the garden; and thence over the fields, and see how green they are growing, or how the harvest ripens, or up to the sky, and see that it is bright as to-day, or that blue openings through the clouds are glancing towards me like friendly eyes, then I think that the earth is so beautiful, God so good, and life so glorious, that I am-ready to cry!"

"Cry?" said the pastor, astonished, "why cry?"

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Why, for this reason, because I have not anything or anyone about me that could feel as I do; for this reason, that I am-childless! Think if I had eight or nine. daughters, or at least half-a-dozen to bustle about with, to teach how to work and to enjoy, as I do, how amusing it would be for them and for me! And for me, who am just now beginning to grow old, and really have need of some one in the house on whom I can trust, because servant-girls are but servant-girls, and one cannot leave them to themselves. I sometimes think that I certainly shall have daughters in heaven, seeing that that happiness has been denied to me on earth."

"But in heaven, my old woman, people bustle about neither with work, nor servant-maids, but they

"Nay, my dear fellow," interrupted she; "don't talk to me about your heaven, in which people are either to stand or sit with palms in their hands, and sing psalms both day and night, and do nothing else besides! Because I tell you that into such a heaven I do not wish to go, even though you yourself were there. I should not continue long sitting there with palms in my hands, and I am very certain, too, that our Lord would not desire such an unnecessary thing, either of me or any body else! No, to work, to strive, to go ever onward, to have much to do, and much to care for, that must I have there, as well as

here, if I am to thrive at all. And don't you tell me that our Lord has no other ways of employing me and every body else who wishes to serve him, than by sitting with palms in their hands, and singing psalms. He has enough in his great household, both larders and gardens, to look after they may be spiritual, such as Swedenborg talks of and poor souls who need to be fed from them. I desire nothing better than to serve our Lord, but he must set me to some real work, and not to hold palms in my hands. And if he is as good as I believe him to be, he will give me some daughters to educate and teach as his maid-servants, for then first will the kingdom of heaven become a true heaven to me!-(No, after all I'll take the large rose, the little rose has too many holes in it!)"

"Listen, mother," said the pastor, "you talk as often about these daughters as about the Kingdom of Heaven. Why should we not have such on earth, if we can? We can afford it, and we have room enough since we came here, and I am quite convinced that it would be amusing and good for us to have a couple of young girls in the family, whom we could become attached to, and who would attach themselves to us. Perhaps our Lord has denied us any children of our own in order that. we might be all the more willing to adopt those of others, who do not need them. If you like, let us, the sooner the better, take one or two daughters into the house."

The pastor's wife now remained sitting with the large rose-patterned table-cloth on her knee, looking at her husband with an expression which evidently showed that his words had gone to her heart.

At length she said:

"If you only knew how often I have thought of the very same thing! But, hitherto, I have not seen any young girls whom I would really with my whole heart wish to