A WEDDING.

At Irish country weddings of the lower orders, the priest is paid by voluntary contributions of the wedding guests. The marriage is generally celebrated in the evening, and is followed, especially among the farming classes, by a grand festivity, to which his "Riverince" is always invited. After supper, when the hearts of the company are merry with corned beef and greens, roast goose, ham, and whisky-punch, the hat goes round.

Honor Malone was the prettiest girl in the barony; and a lucky boy on his marriage day was the bridegroom; albeit on the occasion he looked very ill at ease in a stiff, shiny, brand-new, tight-fitting suit of wedding clothes. Lucky, for in addition to her good looks, the bride had fifty pounds to her fortune and three fine cows.

Very pretty and modest she looked seated beside the priest, blushing a great deal, and wincing not a little at his Reverence's somewhat broad jokes. And most becoming was the 'white frock' in which she was attired; a many-skirted garment, resplendent with 'bow-knots' and trimmings of white satin ribbons.

'As good as new,' my lady's-maid at the Castle, from whom she had bought it, had assured her. 'Made by the grandest French dressmaker in all London, and worn at only a couple of balls; her young ladies were so cruel particular, and couldn't abide the suspicion of a crush or a soil on their gowns.'

In the midst of his jokes and his jollity (and with an eye to future dues, nowhere is a priest half so good-humoured as at a wedding), while apparently absorbed in attention to the pretty bride, whose health had just been drunk in a steaming tumbler, Father Murphy perceived with his business eye that preparations were being made for sending round the plate in his behalf.

The stir began at the end of the table where the 'sthrong farmers' mustered thickest. A goodly set they were, in their large heavy greatcoats of substantial frieze, corduroy knee-breeches, and bright blue stockings; their comely dames wearing the capacious blue or scarlet cloth cloak with silk-lined hood, which, like the greatcoat of the men, is an indispensable article in the gala toilet of their class, even in the dog-days.

In the midst of the group was Jim Ryan. Now this Jim Ryan was the sworn friend and adherent of Father Murphy; he would have gone through fire and water to serve his Reverence. He was rather a small man in the parish as regarded worldly goods, having neither snug holding nor dairy farm; but he was highly popular, being considered a 'dhroll boy' and good company.

When the proceedings of this devoted follower met the priest's business eye before alluded to, they caused considerable surprise to that intelligent organ, insomuch as greatly to damage a very pretty compliment his Reverence was in the act of making to the bride.

First Jim Ryan took hold of the collecting plate, and seemed about to carry it round. Then, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he stopped short, and dashed it down on the table with a clatter and a bang that made Mrs Malone wince, for it was one of her best china set.

Jim's next proceeding was to try all his pockets. He dived into his waistcoat, breeches, and swallow-tailed coat receptacles, one after another, but without finding what he wanted. At last, after much hunting and shaking, and many grimaces of disappointment, he pounced on the object of his search, and drew carefully from some unknown depths a large tattered leather pocket-book.

By this time every one's attention was fixed upon him. Deliberately he opened the book, and peering inside—having first ascertained by a covert glance around that the company were observing—he extracted from it a bank-note. This, when unfolded, he spread out and flattened ostentatiously on the table, so that all who looked might read 'Ten Pounds' inscribed upon it!

A flutter of astonishment ran through the guests, not unmixed with signs of dismay among the richer portion. Fat pocket-books that a few moments before were being pompously produced by their owners, were stealthily thrust back again. A sudden pause was followed by a great whispering and consulting among the farmers. Anxious and meaning looks were bestowed on the latter by their wives, to say nothing of expressive nudges, and digs into conjugal ribs where practicable. For there was always much rivalry in these offerings. Misther Hennessy, who drove his family to mass every Sunday in his own jaunting car, would scorn to give less than Misther Welsh; though he too was a 'warm' man, and always got top price for his butter at Limerick market. And now to be outdone by Jim Ryan! To proffer his Reverence five pounds, when the likes of him was giving ten! It was not to be thought of! So the result, after Jim had deposited his note with a complacent flourish on the plate, and had gone his rounds with the latter, was the largest collection that had ever gladdened the heart or filled the pockets of Father Murphy.

As the priest was leaving the place, Jim came up to him and laid his hand on the horse's bridle: 'A good turn I done yer Riverince this night, didn't I? Such a mort of notes an' silver an' coppers I niver laid eyes on! I thought the plate would be bruk in two halves with the weight. An' now'—in a whisper, and looking round to see there was no one listening—'where's my tin pound note back for me?'

'Your ten pound note, man! What do you mean by asking for it? Is it to give you back part of my dues, you want?

'Ah then now, Father Murphy dear, sure an' sure you niver was so innocent as to think that blessed note was mine! Where upon the face of the living earth would a poor boy like me get such a sight of money as that? Tin pounds! I borryed it, yer Riverince, for a schame; an' a mighty good an' profitable schame it's turned out. Sure I knew the sight of it would draw the coin out of all their pockets; an' by the powers! so it did.' A fact his Reverence could not deny, while—not without interest—he refunded Jim's ingenious decoy-duck.