which he accounted by remarking that his cousin Kate carried her head so high, without a bearing rein, and had such grand action, that it naturally made the other girls look rather screwy; and indeed Master Tom’s descriptive powers so far exceed our own, that we shall violate confidence by availing ourselves of a letter he dispatched the next morning to one of his friends at Eton, in which he gave his own impressions of the eventful day. It ran as follows:-- “Dear Tipsby,--If this blessed hot weather does not make dripping of a fellow prematurely, you will have an opportunity of weeping on the affectionate bussing of ‘Yours, truly,’ by the 5 p.m. train on Monday next. The cause of my shirking a week is not, as you impertinently insinuate, my having ‘over-goose-berried myself,’ but the no less alarming fact that my eldest sister has been and gone and committed matrimony, and I have waited to see her turned off. The ‘shocking event’ arrived at a climax (that’s grammar, ain’t it?) yesterday. I rose with the lark (i.e. Arthur, my big brother, came and dragged me out of bed at seven o’clock), and dressed myself. Yes, I should think I did--rather! Kerseymere sit-upons, made precious loose in the leg, and with a large pink check on a lavender ground--stunnin! satin vest, colours to sympathize; silk necktie, pink ground, lavender pattern, once round--ends at least a quarter of a yard long, and such a bow!--there’s high art for you, my boy!--and last, not least, real Oxford bang-tail coatee (none of your blackguard boys’ jackets), bright blue, with only two buttons and button-holes about it, and all sorts of jolly pockets in original places; but, don’t fret, you shall see it. Well, to return to our mutton, as the French say: very few showed at early breakfast, sensibilities superseding appetites in a general way, though I can’t say I perceived much difference as regarded number one: yet, when I come to think of it, I recollect I only eat three eggs; but then the ham was a real brick. Nothing particular occurred till we were to go to church; but when the traps came round, you may fancy there was something to look at. My brother-in-law, Coverdale--oh, Tips, he really _is_ a fine fellow, as handsome as fun--can ride anything you like to put him across--a dead shot--A1 with his fists (’gad, I should be sorry to get even a left-hander from him), and as good-tempered and jolly as a cock; but you shall see him some day: well, he came up with his own horses, a pair of blood bays, he gave £350 for ’em, and they’re dirt cheap at the money; he is a first-rate judge of a horse; but I’ll tell you all about the traps when we meet. Then down came the girls; Ally (that’s my eldest sister), was smothered with veils, and flounces, and pearls, and that sort of nonsense; and looked precious pale and interesting, and like to blub; so we bundled her into the family-coach, and Coverdale jumped into his own trap, and away we all scuttled to church. We’ve got