Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as bridesmaids on the occasion; the former wrote an _epithalamium_, and the latter cried "Lassy me!" at the clergyman's wig.--Some years have since rolled on; the union has been crowned with two or three tidy little offshoots from the family tree, of whom Master Neddy is "grandpapa's darling," and Mary-Anne mamma's particular "Sock." I shall only add, that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are living together quite as happily as two good-hearted, good-tempered bodies, very fond of each other, can possibly do: and, that since the day of his marriage Charles has shown no disposition to jump out of bed, or ramble out of doors o' nights,--though, from his entire devotion to every wish and whim of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the fair Caroline does still occasionally take advantage of it so far as to "slip on the breeches." * * * * * It was not till some years after the events just recorded, that Miss Mary-Anne, the "pet Sock" before alluded to, was made acquainted with the following piece of family biography. It was communicated to her in strict confidence by Nurse Botherby, a maiden niece of the old lady's, then recently promoted from the ranks in the still-room, to be second in command in the nursery department. The story is connected with a dingy wizzen-faced portrait, in an oval frame, generally known by the name of "Uncle Stephen," though from the style of his cut-velvet, it is evident that some generations must have passed away since any living being could have stood towards him in that degree of consanguinity. THE NURSE'S STORY. THE HAND OF GLORY. "Malefica quædam auguriatrix in Angliâ fuit, quam demones horribiliter extraxerunt, et imponentes super equum terribilem, per aera rapuerunt; Clamoresque terribiles (ut ferunt) per quatuor fermè miliaria audiebantur." --_Nuremb. Chron._ On the lone bleak moor, At the midnight hour, Beneath the Gallows Tree, Hand in hand The Murderers stand By one, by two, by three! And the Moon that night With a grey, cold light Each baleful object tips; One half of her form Is seen through the storm, The other half's hid in Eclipse! And the cold Wind howls, And the Thunder growls, And the Lightning is broad and bright; And altogether It's very bad weather, And an unpleasant sort of a night! "Now mount who list, And close by the wrist Sever me quickly the Dead Man's fist!-- Now climb who dare Where he swings in air, And pluck me five locks of the Dead Man's hair!" * * * * *