By the first of October the house was finished and the smell of the new paint entirely gone; every thing, therefore, was ready, and I had begged a holiday that I might assist in the grand move. The sun set gloriously as I walked out of the office, and it seemed to my joyous spirit that it smiled graciously as I poured forth my grateful feelings in song. Only think of the poor, broken down, neglected apprentice, caroling along the street “home, sweet home,” and having a sweet home to go to in the bargain. Fast as I walked and quickly as I reached our lodgings, I did not come too soon for my dear wife, for she was expecting me at the door with hat and shawl, all equipped for a walk. “What!” said I, “dearest, a walk before tea? or is it to be a little shopping expedition? here is my arm; and which way now, my life? not far, for I think you look fatigued.” “Why, to tell the truth, Patrick, dear, I am a little tired, for I have worked hard to-day that I may enjoy your holiday to-morrow. I am only going to the house; aunt Martha is there waiting for us. And you can be at home to-morrow, can you? oh, what a day of pleasure it will be! such a day as to-morrow comes but once in a married life, dear husband.” To me every day was one of happiness, and with her near me, even the bustle of moving was a pleasant thing to anticipate; but in the abstract, apart from the thought of my wife, nothing could be more irksome than the hurry of change. It was not far to our new habitation, and in looking up there stood dear aunt Martha at the door, bending forward to look for us. “Walk in, walk in,” said she; “walk in your own house, good folks; come and see if every thing is to your liking, Mr. Parr,” and open went all the doors of the four tiny rooms. It was, indeed, as my darling said, a sight and a feeling that came but once in the married life—the first moment that the young husband and his bride put their feet on the threshold of their own house. I have changed that humble dwelling for the princely one that I now inhabit, but that same gentle touch came no more. My wife had an instinctive feeling that I should be annoyed by the moving and lifting and hurry of the scene, and she and Martha agreed to spare me; so there I stood, and it appeared to me that some good fairy had been at work, so neatly and beautifully every thing was arranged. In the middle of the little parlour stood the tea table, and after I had gone through the rooms and praised every thing over and over again, we sat down with grateful hearts to our own frugal meal.