Fogo's
dinner-party. A longer interval would have proved, I believe, fatal
to both Peter and Paul, who wore themselves thin over small
anxieties, from the trousseau to the cake.
Three days before the wedding, for instance, they rowed down to Kit's
House and awoke Caleb at 4.30 a.m. by throwing gravel against his
window.
"Oh, 'tes you," said Caleb, as he thrust open the lattice; "what's
amiss now?"
"We have been considerin' which of us two es to gi'e Tamsin away."
"Toss up."
"We _have_ tossed up--scores o' times."
"Well?"
"The results," said Peter gravely, "es versified."
"What?"
"Otherwise, various. The results es various--inclinin' to Paul."
"Well, let Paul do it."
"Peter es oulder," objected Paul.
"By dree minnits--which don't fairly count," put in Peter.
"Peter," observed Caleb, "looks th' oulder--by full dree minnits."
"Paul went to school afore me," said Peter, "by two days--along o'
measles."
"Look 'ere," decided Caleb, "let Paul gi'e her away, an' you, bein'
the better spokesman, can propose th' health o' the bride an'
bridegroom."
This satisfied them, and so it was arranged at the wedding. I am not
going to describe the ceremony--at which I had the privilege of
holding my friend's hat--beyond saying that woman, as is usual on
these occasions, was a success, and man a dismal failure.
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