up a fishing-rod, and put
it over his shoulder. "Why, we are not going fishing!" said I. "No,"
returned Wemmick, "but I like to walk with one."

I thought this odd; however, I said nothing, and we set off. We went
towards Camberwell Green, and when we were thereabouts, Wemmick said
suddenly,--

"Halloa! Here's a church!"

There was nothing very surprising in that; but again, I was rather
surprised, when he said, as if he were animated by a brilliant idea,--

"Let's go in!"

We went in, Wemmick leaving his fishing-rod in the porch, and looked all
round. In the mean time, Wemmick was diving into his coat-pockets, and
getting something out of paper there.

"Halloa!" said he. "Here's a couple of pair of gloves! Let's put 'em
on!"

As the gloves were white kid gloves, and as the post-office was widened
to its utmost extent, I now began to have my strong suspicions. They
were strengthened into certainty when I beheld the Aged enter at a side
door, escorting a lady.

"Halloa!" said Wemmick. "Here's Miss Skiffins! Let's have a wedding."

That discreet damsel was attired as usual, except that she was now
engaged in substituting for her green kid gloves a pair of white. The
Aged was likewise occupied in preparing a similar sacrifice for
the altar of Hymen. The old gentleman, however, experienced so much
difficulty in getting his gloves on, that Wemmick found it necessary
to put him with his back against a pillar, and then to get behind the
pillar himself and pull away at them, while I for my part held the old
gentleman round the waist, that he might present and equal and safe
resistance. By dint of this ingenious scheme, his gloves were got on to
perfection.

The clerk and clergyman then appearing, we were ranged in order at
those fatal rails. True to his notion of seeming to do it all without
preparation, I heard Wemmick say to himself, as he took something out of
his waistcoat-pocket before the service began, "Halloa! Here's a ring!"

I acted in the capacity of backer, or best-man, to the bridegroom; while
a little limp pew-opener in a soft bonnet like a baby's, made a feint
of being the bosom friend of Miss Skiffins. The responsibility of giving
the lady away devolved upon the Aged, which led to the clergyman's being
unintentionally scandalized, and it happened thus. When he said, "Who
giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the old gentlemen, not in
the least knowing what point of the ceremony we had arri