sat in state
in her father's house under the hill, the maidens danced, and the
matrons fanned themselves, while the fiddlers and _zimblers_ scraped
and tinkled. But as the hours went by, the matrons became restless and
the dancers wearied. The poor relations grew impatient for the feast,
and the babies in their laps began to fidget and cry; while the bride
grew faint, and the bridegroom's party began to send frequent
messengers from the house next door, demanding to know the cause of
the delay. Some of the guests at last lost all patience, and begged
leave to go home. But before they went they deposited the wedding
presents in the bride's satin lap, till she resembled a heathen image
hung about with offerings.

My mother, after thirty years of bustling life, retains a lively
memory of the embarrassment she suffered while waiting for the arrival
of the troublesome cousin. When that important dame at last appeared,
with her chin in the air, the artificial flower still stuck
belligerently into her dusty wig, and my grandmother beaming behind
her, the bride's heart fairly jumped with anger, and the red blood of
indignation set her cheeks afire. No wonder that she speaks the name
of the Red-Flower with an unloving accent to this day, although she
has forgiven the enemies who did her greater wrong. The bride is a
princess on her wedding day. To put upon her an indignity is an
unpardonable offense.

After the feasting and dancing, which lasted a whole week, the wedding
presents were locked up, the bride, with her hair discreetly covered,
returned to her father's store, and the groom, with his new
praying-shawl, repaired to the synagogue. This was all according to
the marriage bargain, which implied that my father was to study and
pray and fill the house with the spirit of piety, in return for board
and lodging and the devotion of his wife and her entire family.

All the parties concerned had entered into this bargain in good faith,
so far as they knew their own minds. But the eighteen-year-old
bridegroom, before many months had passed, began to realize that he
felt no such hunger for the word of the Law as he was supposed to
feel. He felt, rather, a hunger for life that all his studying did not
satisfy. He was not trained enough to analyze his own thoughts to any
purpose; he was not experienced enough to understand where his
thoughts were leading him. He only knew that he felt no call to pray
and fast that the Torah did n