ou are right; but I
should never have thought of it; and now another important
consideration."

"The bridal robe?" said Louis.

"Yes," I said, "just that; the thought of being elaborately dressed is
distasteful to me as well as unsuited to our desires, for a wedding
display would certainly arouse the spirit of envy if nothing more."

"Trust that to little mother, Emily; she desires to have that privilege,
I know."

"Let it be so."

And here we fixed the arrangement for the birthday and wedding day to be
one; but it came on a Sunday, and hence the necessity of a talk with Mr.
Davis, which resulted in the arranging for a short afternoon sermon, and
after it the ceremony. We were not to enter the church until the proper
moment, and Ben said he could manage it, for when the minister began his
last prayer he would climb the rickety ladder into the old square box of
a belfry and hang out a yard of white cloth on a stick.

"And then," he added, "you can jump right into the wagon and be there in
three minutes."

He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment's notice, but Louis
told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage
it all without.

"And besides," he said, "you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are
not going unprotected. Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr.
Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy. That is the programme as I have it."

You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise
as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home,
doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his
experience.

The 10th day of June brought us a letter from Aunt Phebe with news of
her marriage.

"Weddins don't never go alone more'n funerals," said Aunt Hildy. "Here
Miss Hungerford's been married since February, and we've just heard tell
of it. Hope she's got a good, sensible man, but 'taint likely; no two
very sensible folks get very near each other, that is, for life. She's a
good woman. What does he do to git a livin'?"

"Teaches school," I replied.

"Hem!" said she, "school teachers don't generally know much else.
Eddicated men aint great on homelife; they want a monstrous sight of
waitin' on."

"Let us hope for the best in this case," said I. "Here comes Matthias;
he knows Mr. Dayton, I believe."

"Yas, Miss Em'ly, I does," said Matthias, who heard my last remark.

"Is he a nice man?"

"Um, um! reckin that jes' hi