The ancient custom of "processioning," or "beating the bounds," on Ascension Day, it seems, has not yet become a dead letter in this city. The parishes of All Saints and St. Clement are among the most determined upholders of antiquity in this respect; and although it is but seldom that either parish rejoices in these "free-and-easy" carnivals, there are, nevertheless, a few jovial spirits left in each, who occasionally become so overcharged with a desire for practical fun and adventure that "go it they must," and straightway the venerable custom of "beating the bounds" is as good an excuse as any other for indulging their appetite. The practice, we believe, has not been observed in the parish of All Saints for ten years past, till Thursday last, when it came off with all that _eclat_ and superabundance of relish which had been accumulating during the interval of a decade of years. The steeple being, of course, the rallying point, the party met in the morning at the vestry-room, from whence sallied the Rev. Dr. Bartlett, the curate, Messrs. H. Davis and E. Clarke, churchwardens, Messrs. Hill and William Hole, overseers, and a party of about twenty parishioners, accompanied by a shoal of larkish striplings--a body which considerably augmented during the line of route--_vires acquirit eundo_. Down Quay Street they went and down the steps towards a boat, but not without misgivings did the party cast their eyes aloft to the rough-and-ready customers assembled on the bridge, under the centre arch of which the "processioners" were doomed to go. Two policemen had been impressed into the boat for purposes of defence, but what is a policeman more than any other mortal under the combined influences of a cataract of mud and water? And what avails a staff, sword, or dagger, when the enemy grins upon you from a perpendicular height of some twenty or thirty feet? Accordingly the party went through the ordeal with all the calm courage of victims whose only consolation is, that when custom sanctions, neither law nor personal comfort is accounted as of the slightest consequence. On the whole they escaped as well as could have been expected, having encountered only a little water, mud, and a few et ceteras. Thence they proceeded, and cast anchor in Dolday Bay, and after landing there, our informant assures us, "the game was tremendous." Six or seven shillings' worth of buns were scattered, about to produce some scrambling among the boys, and the consequences, as might be supposed, were a considerable exhibition of juvenile activity, amid which dirt and rubbish "around their heads were flying;" and one venerable dame, declaring she had nothing else to part with, discharged the contents of her teapot so effectually as to plaster up the eye of our informant, who insists upon it that he _couldn't see_ why the old lady should have resorted to such extremities for putting him into hot water. Dolday and the Butts were passed, and the