not be
supposed to know that Dowler rose at the same time, having been told by
his pert young friend that he was expected to perform that duty in
consequence of the groom's-man being "unaccustomed to public speaking!"
Dowler, although not easily put down, was, after some trouble, convinced
that he had made a mistake, and sat down without making an apology, and
with a mental resolve to strike in at the first favourable opportunity.

When these and various other toasts had been drunk and replied to, the
health of Mr Crashington, as a very old friend of the bride's family,
was proposed. Hereupon Crashington started to his feet. Dowler, who
was slightly deaf, and had only caught something about "old friend of
the family," also started up, and announced to the company that that was
the happiest moment of his life; an announcement which the company
received with an explosion of laughter so loud and long that the two
"old friends of the family" stood gazing in speechless amazement at the
company, and at each other for three or four minutes. At last silence
was obtained, and Dowler exclaimed, "Sir," to which Crashington replied,
"Sir," and several of the company cried, laughingly, "Sit down, Dowler."

It is certain that Dowler would not have obeyed the order, had not his
pert young friend caught him by the coat-tails and pulled him down with
such violence that he sat still astonished!

Then Crashington, ignoring him altogether, turned to Mr Webster, and
said vehemently--

"Sir, and Ladies and Gentlemen, if this is not the happiest moment of
_my_ life, it is at least the proudest. I am proud to be recognised as
an old friend of the family to which our beautiful bride belongs; proud
to see my dear Annie wedded to a man who, besides possessing many great
and good qualities of mind, has shown himself pre-eminently capable of
cherishing and protecting his wife, by the frequency and success with
which he has risked his own life to save the lives of others. But,
Ladies and Gentlemen, things more serious than proposing toasts and
paying compliments are before us to-day. I regard this as a lifeboat
wedding, if I may be allowed the expression. In early life the blooming
bride of to-day was saved by a lifeboat, and the brave man who steered
that boat, and dived into the sea to rescue the child, now sits on my
left hand. Again, years after, a lifeboat saved, not only the bride,
but her father and her father's ship; which last, a