 | Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family |  |
AFTER A WEDDING.
“I like to tend weddings,” said Mrs. Partington, as
she came back from a neighboring church, where one had
been celebrated, and hung up her shawl, and replaced
the black bonnet in the long-preserved bandbox. “I
like to see young people come together with the promise
to love, cherish, and nourish each other. But it is a
solemn thing, is matrimony, — a very solemn thing, —
where the pasture comes into the chancery, with his surplus
on, and goes through with the cerement of making
'em man and wife. It ought to be husband and wife;
for it a'n't every husband that turns out a man. I
declare I shall never forget how I felt when I had the
nuptual ring put on to my finger, when Paul said,
`With my goods I thee endow.' He used to keep a dry-goods
store then, and I thought he was going to give
me all there was in it. I was young and simple, and
did n't know till arterwards that it only meant one
calico gound in a year. It is a lovely sight to see the
young people plighting their trough, and coming up to
consume their vows.”
She bustled about and got tea ready, but abstractedly
she put on the broken teapot, that had lain away
unused since Paul was alive, and the teacups, mended
with putty, and dark with age, as if the idea had conjured
the ghost of past enjoyment to dwell for the moment in
the home of present widowhood.
A young lady, who expected to be married on Thanksgiving
night, wept copiously at her remarks, but kept
on hemming the veil that was to adorn her brideship,
and Ike sat pulling bristles out of the hearth-brush in
expressive silence.
| Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family | |