confused picture. The tables having been
laid out the previous day, at the coppers,
which are erected in the open air, all the
neighbours, and the invited, who have any
pretension to the culinary art, are ready with
advice and assistance. It is curious to see
them, in the blazing atmosphere of the huge
fires, watching enormous joints of meat and
other comestibles cooking in the numerous
and vast utensils; nevertheless, however
zealous they may be, there are few who do
not desert their post when the firing of guns
and the distant sound of the bagpipes
announce the return of the wedding procession.

The newly married couple are at the head
of the train, preceded by pipers, and fiddlers,
and single-stick players, who triumphantly
lead the way; the nearest relatives of the
young pair next follow; then the rest of the
guests, without order, rushing on helter-skelter,
each in the varied and picturesque
costume of his district, some on foot, some on
horseback, most frequently two individuals
on the same beast, the man seated upon a
stuffed pad which serves as a saddle, and
the wife, with arm around his waist, seated
upon the crupper;—an every-day sight, not
many years ago, in the rural districts of
England, when roads were bad, and the gig
and taxed-cart uninvented. The mendicants
follow at their heels by hundreds, to share
the remnants of the feast.

As soon as the confusion occasioned by the
arrival of such a multitude has subsided, the
guests place themselves at the tables. These
are formed of rough and narrow planks,
supported by stakes driven into the ground, the
benches constructed after the same fashion;
and they are raised in proportion to the
height of the tables, so that you may have
your knees between your plate and yourself;
if, in a real Breton wedding, you happen to
be supplied with such an article—for a
luxury of this description has not yet
reached very far into Brittany: the soup
is eaten out of a wooden bowl, and the
meat cut up and eaten in the hand, or, as
the phrase goes, "upon the thumb." Every
individual, as a matter of course, carries
his own case or pocket knife; the liquids are
served in rude earthenware, and each drinks
out of a cup apportioned to five or six
individuals. It is the height of civility to hand
one's cup to a neighbour, so that he may assist
in emptying it; and a refusal would be
considered extremely rude and insolent.

The husband and his immediate relatives
are in waiting, and anticipate every one's
wants and wishes—pressing each to take care
of himself: they themselves share in no part
of the entertainment, save the compliments
which are showered, and the cups of cider and
wine which civility obliges them to accept.
After each course music strikes up, and the
whole assembly rise from the tables. One
party gets up a wrestling-match; the Bretons
are as famous as their cousins in Cornwall at
this athletic game—or a match at single-stick;
another a foot-race, or a dance; while the
dishes are collected together, and handed to
the hungry groups of mendicants who are
seated in adjoining paddocks. From the tables
to rustic games, reels, gavottes, and jabadoos;
then to the tables again; and they continue
in this manner till midnight announces to
the guests that it is time to retire.

The company having diminished by
degrees, at length leave the groomsman and
the bridesmaid the only strangers remaining,
who are bound to disappear the last, and put
the bride and bridegroom, with due and
proper solemnity, to rest: they then retire
singing "Veni Creator." In some districts
they are compelled, by custom, to watch
during the whole night in the bridal chamber;
in others, they hold at the foot of the
bed a lighted candle, between the fingers,
and do not withdraw until the flame has
descended to the palm of the hand. In another
locality the groom's-man is bound during
the whole long night to throw nuts at the
husband, who cracks them, and gives the
kernel to his bride to eat. The festivity
which a marriage occasions generally lasts
three days, and, on Friday, the youthful wife
embraces the companions of her childhood and
bids them farewell, as if she never meant to
return. Indeed, from the period of marriage,
a new life commences for the Bretone, whose
days of single blessedness have been days of
festivity and freedom; and it would seem that
when once the wedding-ring has been placed
upon the finger, her only business is the care
of her household—her only delight, the peace
of her domestic hearth.

THE PALACE OF FLOWERS.

ALTHOUGH in general a very decided
supporter of "the movement," and rejoicing in all
the inventions of the century, I prefer, for
short distances, the omnibus to the rail. The
railway flies away with yon as the Roc did
with Hassan of Balsora, and drops you into
the country with a plump. The omnibus
enables you to appreciate the gradual dawning
of rurality as you leave town. Then there is
a human interest in watching the putting
down of the suburban proprietors at "Laurel
Lodge," and "Magnolia Terrace," &c. When
you draw up at the kerb close by an iron gate,
and see a little dumpy face that has been
watching at the window, suddenly vanish, to
rush to the door and meet the stout motherly
lady who descends from the seat opposite you,
why you feel that the whole omnibus
(including yourself) has helped to produce the
smiles in the little dumpy face. You feel
quite amiable and good-humoured; you
receive the umbrella of the old gentleman,
who enters at the moment, in your ribs, with
perfect good temper, and beg him "not to
mention it." At least the present writer did
so in the Kew omnibus on a recent occasion.