He felt lonely in his old age, and married a young, handsome widow,
to enliven his house. The lads in the village were determined to
make him pay for his frolic. This got wind, and Mr. P--- was advised
to spend the honeymoon in Toronto; but he only laughed, and said
that 'he was not going to be frightened from his comfortable home by
the threats of a few wild boys.' In the morning, he was married at
the church, and spent the day at home, where he entertained a large
party of his own and the bride's friends. During the evening, all
the idle chaps in the town collected round the house, headed by a
mad young bookseller, who had offered himself for their captain,
and, in the usual forms, demanded a sight of the bride, and liquor
to drink her health. They were very good-naturedly received by Mr.
P---, who sent a friend down to them to bid them welcome, and to
inquire on what terms they would consent to let him off, and
disperse.

"The captain of the band demanded sixty dollars, as he, Mr. P---,
could well afford to pay it.

"'That's too much, my fine fellows!' cried Mr. P--- from the open
window. 'Say twenty-five, and I will send you down a cheque upon the
bank of Montreal for the money.'

"'Thirty! thirty! thirty! old boy!' roared a hundred voices. 'Your
wife's worth that. Down with the cash, and we will give you three
cheers, and three times three for the bride, and leave you to sleep
in peace. If you hang back, we will raise such a 'larum about your
ears that you shan't know that your wife's your own for a month to
come!'