Mr. and Mrs. Wilbour spend much time during the summer, driving about from one town to another; certainly the most comfortable and agreeable mode of travelling that one could adopt.

We have some agreeable neighbors here, who contribute somewhat to the general entertainment.  The aristocracy of Chappaqua are chiefly Quaker families who have lived here since the days of the Indians, and who look down quite doubtfully upon the New York families who come out here for the summer only, and of whose ancestry they know nothing.  The fathers and mothers wear the Quaker dress, and use the “Friends” phraseology, which I think very pretty and caressing, but the young people depart somewhat from the way of grace, in speech, costume, and habits.  The young girls wear whatever color of the rainbow best suits their fresh complexions, are skilled in flirting, and with the assistance of the young gentlemen, have organized a club for weekly croquet parties and private theatricals at the residences of the different members, whilst picnics and riding-parties to Croton and Rye Lakes, and other pretty points of interest, are of frequent occurrence.  But of the riding-parties Gabrielle has just written a sprightly description to a school friend, and before the letter goes to the post, I will transcribe it.

CHAPPAQUA, June 18.

“DEAR MOLLIE:  I received your charming letter and photograph last week.  Many thanks for both.  You ask me how do I pass my time, and what is the latest excitement?

“Well, to begin with, you must know that we have just started a club in Chappaqua for mutual amusement, but as I have been indisposed for some time, I certainly have not yet derived much benefit from it, but spend most of my time reading.

“Last Saturday I was just longing for something to happen, and apostrophizing the world as a hollow sham, when Minna came up to say that we had all been invited to an equestrian party, to start after tea.  You would have imagined I had been offered several kingdoms by my delight.  I gave two or three screams of condensed joy, while dancing wildly around the room, much to Aunt Esther’s surprise.

“But on second thoughts, what was I to do for a horse?  My ponies had never been broken to the saddle, but having made up my mind to go, go I would, if I had to ride a wild buffalo; so I ordered Lady Alice around an hour before the time to start.  When she arrived, the balcony was filled with a large and anxious audience, and rather than fail before so many, I was determined that either I should break the horse in, or she should break me.  I sprang into the saddle, but before I could seat myself or put my foot in the stirrup, she jerked her head away from Bernard, and commenced a series of exciting manoeuvres, rearing, plunging, and kicking.  For about five minutes I defied all the laws of gravitation.  But when the coachman tried to seize her bridle, she shied so suddenly that I was surprised to find myself on terra firma.  I jumped up directly and assured every one that I had not hurt myself in the least, in fact had never felt better; but between you and me, I felt very like the dog that was tossed by the cow with the crumpled horn.  I am afraid that by this time I had let my little angry passions rise—­in other words, I was decidedly angry.