“For now, the corn-house filled, the harvest home, The invited neighbors to the _husking_ come; A frolic scene, where work, and mirth, and play Unite their charms to chase the hours away. Where the huge heap lies centred in the hall, The lamp suspended from the cheerful wall, Brown, corn-fed nymphs, and strong, hard-handed beaux, Alternate ranged, extend in circling rows, Assume their seats, the solid mass attack; The dry husks rustle, and the corn-cobs crack; The song, the laugh, alternate notes resound, And the sweet cider trips in silence round. The laws of husking every wight can tell, And sure no laws he ever keeps so well: For each red ear a general kiss he gains, With each smut ear he smuts the luckless swains; But when to some sweet maid a prize is cast, Red as her lips, and taper as her waist, She walks the round and culls one favored beau, Who leaps the luscious tribute to bestow. Various the sports, as are the wits and brains Of well-pleased lasses and contending swains; Till the vast mound of corn is swept away, And he that gets the last ear wins the day.” TAKING TOLL AT THE BRIDGE. The old custom of “taking toll” has been humorously commemorated by the Belgian artist Dillens, in a painting of singular beauty. It was exhibited at the Paris International Exhibition in 1855, and purchased by the late Emperor of the French. The scene is in Zealand. A quiet summer evening invites the peasantry of the country to a stroll. Three couples, habited in Sunday or holiday costume, have in their walks reached a bridge. Whether or not it is a legal exaction that a toll must be enforced there, is little to the purpose, but one of a peculiar character is demanded, and is most willingly paid by the first pair who reach the spot: the buxom maiden, whose pleasant upturned face shows she has no reluctance to submit to the agreeable extortion, is quite as ready to pay the toll as her lover is to take it. Of course the example will be followed by their companions behind, though the two young men pretend to be quite unconscious of what is going on, and one of the females affects a look of surprise. A BRAVE ICELAND GIRL. Mr. Waller, in his interesting account of a visit to Iceland in 1872, gives us a very clear idea of some of the customs of the people, whom he found inconveniently hospitable. Among other incidents, he relates the following instance of native kindness and feminine courage: “In the morning I made a small study, and, after a very tolerable meal and many good wishes, we rode off. All went well until we came to the river Markafljot, which happened to be very much flooded. Not liking to attempt to swim under the circumstances, we rode on down the bank for some miles, and fortunately found a house. “Knocking at the door, we asked, ‘Is the river very deep?’ “‘Very,’ said a voice from the inside. “‘Is there a man who will show us a ford?’ we asked again.