“You know—,” said Mr. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. My only love is for my poor lost son. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. I was the last on board. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered.
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