“Why thus,” returned Reuben, with a laugh in his eyes. “Old Sennacherib comes to his gate and awaits the wedding-party. Young Snac, with his bride upon his arm, waves a braggart handkerchief at the oldster, and out walks papa, plants himself straight in front of the company, and brings all to a halt. 'I should like to tell thee,' says the old fellow before them all, rolling that bull-dog head of his, 'as I've made my will an' cut thee off with a shillin'!'” “Dear me!” said Ezra, seriously; “dear me! And what answer made young Snac to this?” “Young Snac,” said Reuben, “was equal to his day. 'All right,' says he; 'gi'e me the shillin' now, an' we'll drop in at the “Goat” and split a quart together.' 'All right,' says the old bull-dog; 'it's th' on'y chance I shall ever light upon of mekin' a profit out o' thee.' He lugs out a leather bag, finds a shilling, bites it to make sure of its value, hands it to the young bull-dog, and at the 'Goat' they actually pull up together, and young Snac spends the money then and there. 'Bring out six pints,' cries Snac the younger. 'Fo'penny ale's as much as a father can expect when his loving son is a-spendin' the whole of his inheritance upon him.' Everybody sipped, the bride included, and the two bull-dogs clinked their mugs together. I sipped myself, being invited as a bystander, and toasted father and son together.” “But, mind thee, lad,” said Ezra, “it's scarcely to be touched upon as a laughing matter. Drollery of a sort theer is in it, to be sure; but what Sennacherib Eld says he sticks to. When he bites he holds. He was ever of that nature.” “I know,” said Reuben; “but young Nip-and-Fasten has the breed of old Bite-and-Hold-Fast in him, and if the old man keeps his money the young one will manage to get along without it.” At this moment the bells ceased their clangor. “They've gone into the church, Reuben,” said the old man. “I'll do no less than wish 'em happiness, though there's fewer that finds it than seeks it by that gate.” “It's like other gates in that respect, I suppose,” Reuben answered. “Well, yes,” returned the elder man, lingeringly. “But it's the gate that most of 'em fancy, and thereby it grows the saddest to look at, lad. Come indoors again. There'll be no more bells this yet-awhile.” Reuben followed him into the cloistral odors and shadows of the sitting-room. Ezra took his old seat, and kept silence for the space of two or three minutes. “You said you wanted to speak to me, uncle,” said the younger man, at length.