e, with the sound of drum and fife and pandean pipe;
in which species of music several of his scholars are making wonderful
proficiency. In his great zeal, however, he had nearly done mischief;
for on returning from church, the horses of the bride's carriage took
fright from the discharge of a row of old gun-barrels, which he had
mounted as a park of artillery in front of the school-house, to give
the captain a military salute as he passed.

The day passed off with great rustic rejoicing. Tables were spread
under the trees in the park, where all the peasantry of the
neighbourhood were regaled with roast-beef and plum-pudding and oceans
of ale. Ready-Money Jack presided at one of the tables, and became so
full of good cheer, as to unbend from his usual gravity, to sing a
song out of all tune, and give two or three shouts of laughter, that
almost electrified his neighbours, like so many peals of thunder. The
schoolmaster and the apothecary vied with each other in making
speeches over their liquor; and there were occasional glees and
musical performances by the village band, that must have frightened
every faun and dryad from the park. Even old Christy, who had got on a
new dress from top to toe, and shone in all the splendour of bright
leather breeches and an enormous wedding favour in his cap, forgot his
usual crustiness, became inspired by wine and wassel, and absolutely
danced a hornpipe on one of the tables, with all the grace and agility
of a manikin hung upon wires.

Equal gayety reigned within doors, where a large party of friends were
entertained. Every one laughed at his own pleasantry, without
attending to that of his neighbours. Loads of bride-cake were
distributed. The young ladies were all busy in passing morsels of it
through the wedding-ring to dream on, and I myself assisted a few
little boarding-school girls in putting up a quantity for their
companions, which I have no doubt will set all the little heads in the
school gadding, for a week at least.

After dinner, all the company, great and small, gentle and simple,
abandoned themselves to the dance: not the modern quadrille, with its
graceful gravity, but the merry, social, old country-dance; the true
dance, as the Squire says, for a wedding occasion, as it sets all the
world jigging in couples, hand in hand, and makes every eye and every
heart dance merrily to the music. According to frank old usage, the
gentlefolks of the Hall mingled for a tune in t