Such was their honeymoon!

This barbarous custom has now fallen entirely into disuse.
If attempted to be renewed, it is summarily put down by the
police, though it still exists among the Basques as a Toberac.
It may also be mentioned that a similar practice once prevailed
in Devonshire described by the Rev. S. Baring Gould in his "Red
Spider." It was there known as the Hare Hunt, or
Skimmity-riding.

The tailor's Charivaris brought him in no money.

They did not increase his business; in fact, they made him many
enemies. His uncouth rhymes did not increase his mending of old
clothes. However sharp his needle might be, his children's teeth
were still sharper; and often they had little enough to eat.
The maintenance of the family mainly depended on the mother,
and the wallet of grandfather Boe.

The mother, poor though she was, had a heart of gold under her
serge gown. She washed and mended indefatigably. When she had
finished her washing, the children, so soon as they could walk,
accompanied her to the willows along the banks of the Garonne,
where the clothes were hung out to dry. There they had at least
the benefit of breathing fresh and pure air. Grandfather Boe was
a venerable old fellow. He amused the children at night with his
stories of military life--

"Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won."