ce;
his affections were entirely won by her,--which was, by the way, no
little pleasure to herself, inasmuch as she regarded him with very
similar feelings.

There seemed quite a propriety in the mutual affection of these two
young people; it was, to say the least of it, quite patriarchal that
Abraham should love Sarah; but whether Abe ever thought of Scripture
precedent for indulging such sentiment or not, one thing is certain, he
followed the example set by one of old, and took Sarah to be his wife.

The wedding took place on the 10th May, 1818. There was no extravagant
or improvident display on the occasion. Abe did, however, put on his
best clothes, and stay from work for that day; and Sally, as he now
began to call her, appeared in a stuff dress, that served as her Sunday
frock for a long time afterwards. A few friends attended the ceremony
by invitation, and a few more of the gentler sex just dropped in as
they were, to see that the affair was properly done, as well as to
indulge a pardonable liking for that kind of religious service. Some
of them probably never attended a place of worship except on such
interesting occasions, or in connection with a christening. Here,
then, was an opportunity for these people to indulge their select
tastes, and they failed not to embrace it.

The ceremony over, the happy pair came forth to be pelted, according to
custom, with rice and old shoes, symbolizing the wishes of the
bystanders, that all through life they might enjoy plenty, prosperity,
and good luck. Then came the walk home through the village arm-in-arm;
Abe nervous, and Sally blushing under the kind yet familiar
congratulations of their friends.

The day was spent in a quiet, happy manner among the members of the
wedding party, and nothing particular occurred until a little before
seven o'clock in the evening, when all at once Abe got up, reached down
his hat, and prepared for going out.

"Where's ta going?" someone asked. Sally was looking at him rather
curiously, as if she could not understand his movements.

"Why," said he, "doant yoa know it's my class noight?"

"Well, what by that? they'll niver expect thee t'-noight."

"Oh, but I mun goa."

All present laughed right heartily at his remark, and one of them said,
"Nay, lad, thaa mu'nt goa t'-noight and leave th' wife and all th'
friends; foak 'll laugh at thee."

"Let 'em laugh; th' devil 'll laugh if I doant goa, and foak 'll laugh
if I do. I'