dous blowing of trumpets, in the front of the house.
"There!" said Oak, laughing. "I knew those fellows were up to something, by the look of their faces."
Oak took up the light and went into the porch, followed by Bathsheba with a shawl over her head. The rays fell upon a group of male figures gathered upon the gravel in front, who, when they saw the newly-married couple in the porch, set up a loud "Hurrah!" and at the same moment bang again went the cannon in the background, followed by a hideous clang of music from a drum, tambourine, clarionet, serpent, hautboy, tenor-viol, and doublebass—the only remaining relics of the true and original Weatherbury band—venerable worm-eaten instruments, which had celebrated in their own persons the victories of Marlborough, under the fingers of the forefathers of those who played them now. The performers came forward, and marched up to the front.
"Those bright boys, Mark Clark and Jan are at the bottom of all this," said Oak. "Come in, souls, and have something to eat and drink wi' me and my wife."
"Not to-night," said Mr. Clark, with evident self-denial. "Thank ye all the same; but we'll
