the grave
which he had been digging for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind
him, and with the flat side of the spade----

* * * * *

The shock was effectual; never again was Lieutenant Seaforth known to
act the part of a somnambulist. One by one, his breeches--his
trousers--his pantaloons--his silk-net tights--his patent cords--his
showy greys with the broad red stripe of the Bombay Fencibles were
brought to light--rescued from the grave in which they had been buried,
like the strata of a Christmas pie; and after having been well aired by
Mrs. Botherby, became once again effective.

The family, the ladies especially, laughed; the Peterses laughed; the
Simpkinsons laughed;--Barney Maguire cried "Botheration!" and _Ma'mselle
Pauline_, "_Mon Dieu!_"

Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing which awaited him on all
sides, started off two hours earlier than he had proposed:--he soon
returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law's request, given up
the occupation of Rajah-hunting and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing
bride to the altar.

Mr. Simpkinson from Bath did not attend the ceremony, being engaged at
the Grand Junction meeting of _Scavans_, then, congregating from all
parts of the known world in the city of Dublin. His essay, demonstrating
that the globe is a great custard, whipped into coagulation by
whirlwinds and cooked by electricity--a little too much baked in the
Isle of Portland, and a thought underdone about the Bog of Allen--was
highly spoken of, and narrowly escaped obtaining a Bridgewater prize.

Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as brides-maids on the occasion;
the former wrote an _epithalamium_, and the latter cried "Lassy me!" at
the clergyman's wig. Some years have since rolled on; the union has been
crowned with two or three tidy little off-shoots from the family tree,
of whom Master Neddy is "grandpapa's darling," and Mary Anne mamma's
particular "Sock." I shall only add, that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are
living together quite as happily as two good-hearted, good-tempered
bodies, very fond of each other, can possibly do; and that, since the
day of his marriage, Charles has shown no disposition to jump out of
bed, or ramble out of doors o' nights--though from his entire devotion
to every wish and whim of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the fair
Caroline does still occasionally take advantage of it so far as to "slip
on the breeches."