There was certainly one difficulty which the tailor
had not to encounter in the progress of his courtship; the field was
his own; he had not a rival to dispute his claim. Neither was there any
opposition given by her friends; they were, on the contrary, all anxious
for the match; and when the arrangements were concluded, Neal felt his
hand squeezed by them in succession, with an expression more resembling
condolence than joy. Neal, however, had been bred to tailoring, and not
to metaphysics; he could cut out a coat very well, but we do not say
that he could trace a principle--as what tailor, except Jeremy Taylor,
could?
There was nothing particular in the wedding. Mr. O'Connor was asked by
Neal to be present at it: but he shook his head, and told him that
he had not courage to attend it, or inclination to witness any man's
sorrows but his own. He met the wedding party by accident, and was heard
to exclaim with a sigh, as they flaunted past him in gay exuberance of
spirits--"Ah, poor Neal! he is going like one of her father's cattle to
the shambles! Woe is me for having suggested matrimony to the tailor! He
will not long-be under the necessity of saying that he 'is blue-moulded
for want of a beating.' The butcheress will fell him like a Kerry ox,
and I may have his blood to answer for, and his discomfiture to feel
for, in addition to my own miseries.
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