When I was a boy, on a Sunday, I had set a trap to catch rats that scared the scullery-maid in the back kitchen, and caused her to drop my mother’s best china. But as rat-catching was not considered by my parents a Sabbatical amusement, I set my traps on the sly when they were at church on Sunday afternoon, and I was at home with a cold. The house-maid was left in charge, and naturally admitted her lover to assist her in watching after the safety of the house. Both seated themselves in the kitchen, one in the settle, the other in a chair before the fire. When I, in the back kitchen, heard them enter, I was afraid to stir lest my parents should be informed of my proceedings, and the sanctity of the Sabbath be impressed tinglingly on me, across my father’s knee, with the back of a hair-brush, a paper-knife, or a slipper. Accordingly I kept still. Twenty minutes had elapsed, and no words having passed I stole to the kitchen door and peeped through. The maid sat on the settle, the swain on the chair, unctuously ogling each other in silence. After the lapse of twenty minutes by the clock, the youth lifted up his voice and said solemnly, “Mary, what be that there thing for?” and he pointed to a button above the kitchen range. “That, Joshua, is the damper.” Again silence fell over the kitchen, only broken by the ticking of the clock. After the expiration of twenty minutes more, the youth further inquired, “And what be the damper for, Mary?” “For to make the fire go a smother-like, Joshua,” she replied. Again twenty minutes elapsed: then I heard a long-drawn sigh, and Joshua said in a grave, emotionless voice, “Mary, there be no damper in my buzzom.” “There come master and mistress from church,” exclaimed Mary; “Joshua, you must go.” “Lord!” said the swain, slowly rising, “how I have enjoyed myself, Mary.” Next Sunday the banns were called. This was slow allemanding indeed, quite at the cinque-pace, but then it was the love-making of an inexperienced youthful couple. Marianne Saltren and Captain Tubb had gone through the process at least once previously, so that there was not the same shyness and stiffness in their courtship. Nevertheless they conformed to the rule of country courtship, and allemanded about each other, though, I grant you, at a sprightlier pace than that of Joshua and Mary, before they joined hands and went down the middle. CHAPTER XLIX. TWO ORLEIGH GIRLS. Mrs. Welsh burst in on Arminell one evening just before dinner with a face of dismay, and both her hands uplifted. “Mercy on us! What do you think?” Arminell stood up. “What has happened, Mrs. Welsh?” she asked in some alarm. “My dear! You might have knocked me down with a feather. I thought that the girl would be sure to know how to do boiled rabbit with onion sauce.” “Does she not?” “And there was to be a Swiss pudding.”