efore. In her hand is a basket
of magnificent roses. These with leaves of others she strews in the way
before the approaching persons.

First come George LeMonde, best man, and Miss Stella Nebeker,
bridesmaid, with her arm linked in his. Then follow arm in arm Rev.
Jasper Very, bridegroom, and Rev. John Larkin, the officiating
minister. In the rear we behold the lovely bride, Miss Viola LeMonde,
beautifully dressed, leaning upon the arm of her father, Judge LeMonde.
Under the shadow of the pine trees, near the piazza, the wedding
company take position, and the ceremony begins.

The minister asks: "Who gives the bride away?" The Judge replies: "I
give the bride away," and he walks to the rear while the bride steps to
the side of the bridegroom. The ceremony, brief but most impressive, is
conducted according to the ritual of the church, and the minister
solemnly pronounces them husband and wife.

Presently the black people under the leadership of Mose and others go
to their quarters to enjoy the great barbecue feast. The white people
are invited to take seats around the loaded tables placed under the
pines trees. As we glance over the company we behold many kind friends
whom we have met in the course of this narrative. A large number from
the mission school were there, including the whole Spink family, and
some members of the Sneath and Wiles families. They were under the care
of Miss Henrietta Harvey, who was now their capable and devoted
superintendent.

Jolly Costello Nebeker and his good lady were present. He seemed to
thrive in every way by running his tavern on cold water principles. His
hearty, hilarious laugh was as contagious as the measles. Honest David
Hester and his folks were given seats near the head of the table. The
other planters were also well represented: Abner Hunt, the fiery little
man from down river, and Hans Schmidt, the large, fair-faced German,
with several others. Hiram Sanders, the herculean blacksmith of
Bridgewater, had a place at the table.

When the great feast was nearly over and ices were being served, Judge
LeMonde arose and thus spoke: "Dear friends, I do not wish to interrupt
the meal, neither do I wish to make a speech, only to say that Madam
LeMonde and myself count this one of the greatest days of our lives. It
surely has a tinge of sorrow in it but the joy far surpasses the
sadness. I am very glad indeed to behold you enjoying the felicities of
the occasion. There is a bit of