and was heard to exclaim with a sigh as they flaunted past him in
gay exuberance of spirits: "Ah, poor Neal! he is going like one of
her father's cattle to the shambles! Woe is me for having suggested
matrimony to the taylor! He will not long be under the necessity
of saying that he is 'blue-moulded for want of a beating.' The
butcheress will fell him like a Kerry ox, and I may have his blood
to answer for and his discomfiture to feel for in addition to my
own miseries."

On the evening of the wedding-day, about the hour of ten o'clock,
Neal, whose spirits were uncommonly exalted, for his heart
luxuriated within him, danced with his bridesmaid; after the dance
he sat beside her, and got eloquent in praise of her beauty; and
it is said, too, that he whispered to her and chucked her chin with
considerable gallantry. The tête-à-tête continued for some time
without exciting particular attention, with one exception; but THAT
exception was worth a whole chapter of general rules. Mrs. Malone
rose up, then sat down again and took off a glass of the native;
she got up a second time; all the wife rushed upon her heart. She
approached them, and, in a fit of the most exquisite sensibility,
knocked the bridesmaid down, and gave the tailor a kick of affecting
pathos upon the inexpressibles. The whole scene was a touching
one on both sides. The tailor was sent on all-fours to the floor,
but Mrs. Malone took him quietly up, put him under her arm as one
would a lap-dog, and with stately step marched away to the connubial
apartment, in which everything remained very quiet for the rest of
the night.

The next morning Mr. O'Connor presented himself to congratulate
the tailor on his happiness. Neal, as his friend, shook hands with