13. XIII.
ROUGH BEGINNING OF THE HONEYMOON.
On last Friday morning an athletic young
farmer in the town of Waynesburg took a
fair girl, “all bathed in blushes,” from her
parents, and started for the first town across
the Pennsylvania line to be married, where
the ceremony could be performed without
a license. The happy pair were accompanied
by a sister of the girl—a tall, gaunt,
and sharp-featured female of some thirtyseven
summers. The pair crossed the line,
were married, and returned to Wellsville to
pass the night. People at the hotel where
the wedding party stopped observed that
they conducted themselves in a rather singular
manner. The husband would take
his sister-in-law, the tall female aforesaid,
into one corner of the parlor and talk earnestly
to her, gesticulating wildly the while.
Then the tall female would “put her foot
down” and talk to him in an angry and
excited manner. Then the husband would
take his fair young bride into a corner, but
he could no sooner commence talking to
her than the gaunt sister would rush in between
them and angrily join in the conversation.
The people at the hotel ascertained
what all this meant about 9 o'clock that
evening. There was an uproar in the room
which had been assigned to the newly-married
couple. Female shrieks and masculine
“swears” startled the people at the hotel,
and they rushed to the spot. The gaunt
female was pressing and kicking against
the door of the room, and the newly-married
man, mostly undressed, was barring
her out with all his might. Occasionally
she would kick the door far enough open
to disclose the stalwart husband, in his Gentleman
Greek Slave apparel. It appeared
that the tall female insisted upon occupying
the same room with the newly-wedded pair;
that her sister was favorably disposed to the
arrangement, and that the husband had
agreed to it before the wedding took place,
and was now indignantly repudiating the
contract. “Won't you go away now, Susan,
peaceful?” said the newly-married man,
softening his voice.
“No,” said she, “I won't—so there!”
“Don't you budge an inch!” cried the
married sister within the room.
“Now—now, Maria,” said the young man
to his wife, in a piteous tone, “don't go for
to cuttin' up in this way: now don't!”
“I'll cut up 's much I wanter!” she sharply
replied.
“Well,” roared the desperate man, throwing
the door wide open and stalking out
among the crowd, “well, jest you two wimin
put on your duds and go right straight
home and bring back the old man and woman,
and your grandfather, who is nigh on
to a hundred; bring 'em all here, and I'll
marry the whole d—d caboodle of 'em, and
we'll all sleep together!”
The difficulty was finally adjusted by the
tall female taking a room alone. Wellsville
is enjoying itself over the “sensation.”
