e in a few remarks of unaccustomed humor, in which he sets
the room in a roar by expressing his satisfaction at having married off
one encumbrance, his modified rapture in the reflection that there were
still two or three in the way of daughters and nieces whom he felt bound
to similarly dispose of, his comfort in the sight of half a dozen such
likely young officers as those present, and his hope that they wouldn't
"fool away their time." This dispels anything like formality, and the
next thing there is a health to the Army and shouts for Blake. He finds
his long legs slowly, and comes to the scratch infinitely puzzled as to
how he is to worry through, but all is merriment by this time, and fun
and laughter reward his feeblest shots. He is understood to begin
somewhat as follows:

"You ought not to expect me to respond for the Army. I can't speak for
the ladies thereof because they never gave me a chance to practise (oh!
slander!), and I can't drink for the men because they insist on doing it
for themselves (another libel!). In fact, after being here five days as
the guest of our hospitable friends at the club, I'm wondering how any
one ever could see anything to drink to in the army. Life there is a
fearful grind. In the lofty and inspired language of Canon Kingsley,--if
not cannon, he was at least a big gun in ecclesiastical circles
(oh!),--it is a life in which

'Men must shirk and women must sweep.'"

(Loud protestations.) "Indeed, if it were not for the ladies--God bless
them!--we would have nothing but fighting in the field and stagnation at
home; but, whenever they get to running things their way, it--it is just
the reverse." (Shame! No! Wretch!) He vainly strives to rally under the
fire of imprecation, but it is too late. The groomsmen are denouncing
him, as he deserves to be, as a slanderer and recreant. Mr. Ferris and
Mr. Waring spring to their feet to implore the assembly to reject any
and all such statements as the emanations of an embittered,
oft-rejected, and "subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man;" and poor
Blake, who really wanted to wind up with an apostrophe to the crowning
excellences of the bride, is driven to cover, a victim of his vicious
propensity for burlesque. He has created illimitable merriment, however,
and is to be infinitely congratulated on getting off so easily. And then
the bride-cake is cut, and eager is the excitement over the search for
the prophetic ring, and the blushing brid