TWICE MARRIED: 
 
 A STORY OF 
 
 CONNECTICUT LIFE. 
 
 KINO. " 1 have sworn an oath. 
 
 PRINCESS. Our lady help my lord ! He'll be forsworn." 
 
 Love's Labor Lost. Act II., Scene 1st, 
 
 NEW YOKE: 
 DIX & EDWARDS, 10 PARK PLACE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW & SON. 
 1855.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by 
 
 DIX & EDWARDS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 HOLMAN & GRAY, 
 Printers and Storeotypers.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE following romance has appeared in parts in 
 PUTNAM'S MONTHLY, in each number of which, for 
 a great portion of the present year, it has regularly 
 occupied a place. Its very kind reception, not merely 
 by the critical authorities of the press, but by the 
 public at large, has induced the publishers to present 
 it in the present form, in which they confidently trust 
 it will meet with the same generous appreciation as 
 heretofore. 
 
 2013153
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT is the custom, now-a-days, for the author 
 of a book to discourse to the reader, in the 
 preface, touching the object and design of the 
 work, and concerning the intent wherewith it 
 was undertaken. Every novel, in this utilita- 
 rian age, is written with an earnest purpose of 
 some sort or other. Even fairy stories and 
 tales of genii and giants are contrived, (like 
 sugar-coated pills), in a most cunning fashion, 
 to the end that, while simple and ingenuous 
 youth suppose they are acquiring only a know- 
 ledge of the exploits of some Jack the Giant 
 Killer, or Puss in Boots, a subtle moral may be
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 thereby instilled, at every turn of the leaves, 
 into their unsuspecting minds. 
 
 Now, doubtless, I ought to be ashamed to 
 confess it, nevertheless it is the truth, that, in 
 writing this book, the highest impulse of which 
 I was conscious was a very ardent desire to 
 amuse merely the readers of Putnam's Monthly. 
 My story pretends to be nothing more than a 
 plain and homely sketch of rustic Yankee life 
 and character. If the reader discover a moral 
 he is entirely welcome to it. Indeed, he has 
 a perfect and indefeasible right to call it his 
 own ; for I assure him, on my honor, that it 
 was not put in by design. 
 
 I am vastly gratified at being told that my 
 humble endeavor to please has not been alto- 
 gether unsuccessful ; and I have very willingly 
 accepted the obliging offer of the publishers 
 of the Magazine to confer upon my story the
 
 PREFACE. yii 
 
 dignity of covers and binding, and to make a 
 book of it. I sincerely hope their predictions, 
 that the public will regard it with even greater 
 favor in its new form, will be verified. 
 SUFFIELD, Coxx., 
 Aug. 10, 1855.
 
 TWICE MARUIE-D, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN the northeast corner of the hilly county 
 of Windham, in the steady old State of Con- 
 necticut, there lies a quiet valley of some 
 three or four miles in length, with a breadth 
 varying from a furlong to a mile. The Niptuck 
 river, of yore a noisy, brawling brook, abound- 
 ing in rapids and cascades but which of late 
 has been tamed, and set busily at work, spin- 
 ning and weaving like a thrifty old-time 
 housewife no sooner overleaps the last mill- 
 dam that obstructs its course, and hurries 
 swiftly through the narrow gorge in which the 
 northern end of the valley terminates, than it 
 suddenly subsides into quiet, and becomes one 
 
 of the most peaceful and well behaved streams 
 1
 
 2 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 in the whole world; thenceforth, flowing 
 smoothly along, over a bed of white sand and 
 pebbles, through level, green meadows, and 
 between low, sloping banks, fringed with 
 drooping willows, with a current so gentle 
 as to be hardly perceptible. For a space, 
 upon the widening surface of the shallow 
 tide, float bubbles and foam-flakes from the 
 rapids above, but as the stream expands, and 
 its current grows more languid, these relics 
 of precedent agitation disappear, and in still, 
 hot midsummer noons, when the faint breezes 
 that fan the hill-tops are unfelt in the valleys 
 between, the Niptuck sleeps in its quiet, 
 shady bed, without a ripple upon its placid 
 bosom, as though it were a-weary with its 
 toils among the water-wheels and mill-dams 
 further up the stream. 
 
 The range of hills that form the western 
 limits of the valley presents a bold front of 
 precipitous cliffs, hidden for half the year by 
 the plumy blossoms, and dark green foliage 
 of the chestnut woods, that grow among the 
 ledges ; but the acclivity of the eastern hills 
 is a gentle slope of fertile land, divided by
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 3 
 
 intersecting walls and fences into fields and 
 meadows, and thickly dotted with white farm- 
 houses, orchards, and clumps of walnuts and 
 shade-trees. 
 
 A broad highway runs through the valley, 
 near the foot of this slope, which, for nearly 
 its whole extent, is bordered by long rows of 
 umbrageous maples, while here and there, by 
 the road-side, a stately elm towers aloft into 
 the air, sheltering a snug farm-house and its 
 shady, green, front door-yard, beneath its 
 spreading branches. 
 
 About midwa}^, on a gentle swell of land, 
 a spur of the eastern hills, round which the 
 loitering river makes a sweeping bend, the 
 trees are more thickly planted, and at a little 
 distance the place resembles a grove of elms 
 and buttonwoods. But glimpses of white 
 dwellings peeping out from among the dense 
 foliage, and a slim spire, surmounted by a 
 gilded ball and vane, rising over all, reveal 
 the spot where the village of Walbury stands, 
 almost hidden among the trees. 
 
 Now, although Walbury was settled in the 
 year of our Lord 1671, and has ever since been
 
 4 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 inhabited by Yankees for I dare say that even 
 at this day there are not in the whole town 
 a dozen persons who were born outside the 
 limits of the State of Connecticut it is, 
 nevertheless, one of the most quiet and least 
 enterprising places in Christendom. The peo- 
 ple, instead of partaking of the restless, uneasy 
 disposition, which is the general characteristic 
 of the Yankee race, are for the most part 
 averse to bustle and change, and witness from 
 afar the march of improvement, and the rapid 
 progress of the age, with apprehension and 
 extreme disfavor. The old, square, sharp- 
 gabled meeting-house, in the middle of the 
 broad street, has stood its ground these four- 
 score years. It has scarcely changed in aspect 
 since the sunny Sabbath afternoon, when the 
 pious congregation then assembled within its 
 walls were amazed by the profane sound of 
 horses' hoofs, clattering in hot haste along the 
 highway, and suddenly halting at the sanc- 
 tuary door, and the thrilling shout of the 
 dusty courier, that bore from town to town 
 the startling tidings of the battles at Lexing- 
 ton and Concord. The tavern on the corner
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 of the cross street leading towards the river 
 was a well-known and popular hostelry with 
 the commissary's teamsters in the Revolution- 
 ary War. The memory of man runneth not 
 back to the time when the graven image of a 
 chubby Bacchus, seated astride upon a wine- 
 cask, was hoisted into its perch in the main 
 fork of the venerable elm that grows before 
 the door. The sign over the wide, low- 
 browed portal, of the one-story gable-roofed 
 store near by, has served to indicate the place 
 of business of three generations of Deacon 
 Joab Sweenys. Layard himself would find it 
 a most difficult matter to decipher the inscrip- 
 tion upon its faded weather-worn surface. 
 The patriarch of the village well remembers 
 being soundly flogged in the humble school- 
 house at the end of the street. There are 
 but few dwellings in the village of less than 
 fifty years of age, and even the barns have 
 an air of antiquity about them that makes 
 them the most venerable of their class. The 
 inhabitants are remarkable for a staid and 
 placid demeanor, and a gravity, and, indeed, 
 even a solemnity of deportment, by which
 
 6 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 they are easily distinguished when they ven- 
 ture abroad; and it is not wonderful that even 
 their horses and cattle are more noted for 
 good condition than for speed and activity. 
 
 All the customs and manners of the Niptuck 
 valley are of the olden time. Saturday night 
 is there kept sacred as the commencement of 
 the holy Sabbath. Only of Sunday evenings 
 do the Walbury swains venture to go a-court- 
 ing. Some of the aged men in the village 
 still wear breeches and shoe-buckles. The 
 Sunday coats of the farmers are made of home- 
 spun cloth ; and even these they are accus- 
 tomed in hot weather to take off in meeting, 
 and sit dozing in their shirt-sleeves during the 
 lengthy sermon time. Quiltings and apple- 
 paring bees are the most noted social gather- 
 ings, at which the young folks of different 
 sexes meet each other, and in the moonshiny 
 October nights, the old-fashioned husking 
 frolics are as frequent as of yore. Great 
 flocks of sheep are wont to graze upon the 
 hill-side pastures ; and numerous descendants 
 of the geese that flourished in a former cen- 
 tury are suffered to crop the short grass
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 7 
 
 growing with the mulleins and may-weed 
 upon the margins of the road, as their ances- 
 tors did a hundred years ago, to stalk about 
 the green in single file, with three-pronged 
 yokes upon their necks, or, at other times, 
 to run wildly along the street, with wings 
 outstretched, cackling and screaming shrill 
 warnings of an approaching storm. 
 
 Indeed, this secluded little nook, lying in 
 the midst of busy New England, resembles 
 the interior of some ancient church in the 
 heart of a great, bustling, and prosperous city, 
 which, though surrounded on every side by 
 the rush and turmoil of trade and business, 
 and within hearing of the footsteps of the 
 jostling multitudes in the streets, is, neverthe- 
 less, pervaded all the week with the spirit of 
 stillness and repose. 
 
 On the eastern side of the way, at the upper 
 end of the village street, nearly half a mile 
 from Walbury meeting-house, stands a man- 
 sion, of which, as it appeared some thirty-odd 
 years ago, I wish the reader to get a notion. 
 The space between the house and the highway 
 formed a narrow yard, completely canopied
 
 S TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 by the spreading branches of a gigantic elm. 
 Between this inclosure and the garden from 
 which, on either hand, it was fenced by white 
 picket-palings a short lane or carriage-drive 
 led from the street, up the gentle slope, and 
 so by the southern end of the house to the 
 barn and out-houses in the rear. The house 
 itself was a large, old-fashioned, two-story 
 dwelling, painted white, with a shingled roof, 
 slanting steeply downwards from a high peak, 
 surmounted by a huge turret of a chimney, 
 the birth-place of many generations of swal- 
 lows. There was a low, one-story wing or 
 L-part at the rear of the main building, 
 fronted by a broad, deep porch, that would 
 have been too sunny except for the vines, 
 that, climbing up the slender posts, overran 
 the roofs, and hung in festoons from the 
 eaves. Here, in the autumn, could be seen, 
 pendent from the posts to which they were 
 fastened at either end, weighty strings of 
 quartered apples, of sweet corn boiled on the 
 cob for winter succotash, and of gaudy red pep- 
 pers, drying in the sun. Here used to stand a 
 mighty cheese-press, and upon a narrow shelf
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 9 
 
 outside were wont to be displayed rows of 
 resplendent milk-pans, freshly scalded, shining 
 and glittering like shields of burnished silver. 
 
 Across the lane from this porch, just within 
 the limits of the garden, grew a stately pear- 
 tree, sheltering the house from the noon-day 
 glare and heat. It was famous throughout the 
 valley for its great size and productiveness, 
 as well as for the unrivaled excellence of the 
 seven different kinds of fruit which it bore. 
 There was also a row of English cherry-trees 
 bordering the lane, and scores of plum, peach, 
 and apricot trees, in the garden ; besides, 
 currant, gooseberry, and raspberry bushes 
 growing peaceably together in a row next to 
 the street fence, thrusting their fruit-laden 
 twigs and branches between the pickets, 
 thereby inciting and tempting little boys, 
 loitering on their way to school, to trespasses 
 and petty larcenies. 
 
 Beneath the windows of the house, in the 
 front yard, flourished a little jungle of lilac- 
 bushes, and a bird-rose bush clambered up a 
 trellis and over the architrave of the front 
 doorway, which, in the month of June, was a
 
 10 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 perfect wilderness of roses, filling the air all 
 about, out-doors and in-doors, with damask 
 perfumes. 
 
 Behind the house was a spacious back-yard, 
 and a deep well in the middle of it, with a 
 crotch and lofty sweep, which resembled, at a 
 distance, the stout, stumpy mast, and long, 
 graceful lateen yard of a Maltese felucca. 
 Upon one side was the wood-shed and chip- 
 yard, and on the other a cider-mill, open at 
 the front, and used for nearly all the year as a 
 tool-house and shelter for carts and wagons. 
 The rearward limit of the space was formed by 
 a great yellow barn, with an arch, and a blank, 
 sombre-looking fanlight, painted in dead, dull 
 black over the great doors, and a long row of 
 pigeon-holes cut through the boards, just be- 
 neath the eaves. Between the cider-mill and 
 barn was the mouth of a lane, closed by a gate, 
 and leading out upon the farm, away up the 
 hill-side, to its very summit. 
 
 Here dwelt, a good many years ago, a 
 worthy gentleman, who, as his grandfather 
 and father had been before him, was esteemed 
 by the whole neighborhood and township to
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 11 
 
 be a man of no small mark and consideration. 
 He was the most wealthy inhabitant of the 
 Niptuck valley, a distinction that will of itself 
 account for the high regard in which he was 
 held by his townsmen. From the lowly 
 station of private in the Walbury "flood- 
 woods," he had risen, by regular and succes- 
 sive promotions, to the rank of Colonel of the 
 XXIXth Regiment of Connecticut State Mi- 
 litia. 
 
 Moreover, he was in the habit of going to 
 the General Assembly, as one of the represent- 
 atives of the ancient town of Walbury, as 
 often as he pleased, which was, in fact, pretty 
 nearly every spring. But what he himself 
 chiefly gloried in was, that, for many years in 
 succession, he had been regularly appointed by 
 the legislature, one of the justices of the peace, 
 within and for the county of Windham. Once, 
 even, for a single year, during the trial of an 
 experiment with the judiciary system of the 
 State, he had occupied a seat upon the bench 
 of the Court of Common Pleas, as a puisne or 
 " side" judge. Of this appointment he was 
 extremely proud, and it served ever afterwards
 
 12 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 as the epoch from which he reckoned the date 
 of every other event. 
 
 It so happened, therefore, that besides the 
 usual prefix of " Mister," this gentleman was 
 fairly entitled to either of three several handles 
 to his name. But his neighbors, to his secret 
 disappointment and chagrin, instead of learn- 
 ing, like the rest of the world, to address him 
 by the worshipful title of " Judge," remained 
 steadfast in the long-continued habit of accost- 
 ing him as " Colonel" and " Squire," and, as 
 will hereinafter more fully appear, when some 
 of the younger and less reverend spoke of him 
 behind his back, they were wont to designate 
 him by still another appellation. 
 
 Colonel Starr Manners was a stout, thick- 
 set man, with a round belly, and short, 
 stumpy legs. He wore his coarse, stiff, white 
 hair and bristly whiskers cropped short and 
 close, so that the ruddy soil of his skin was 
 everywhere visible through the hirsute stub- 
 ble, thereby causing his complexion somewhat 
 to resemble that of a very clean and well- 
 conditioned white shoat. As for his dress, 
 besides a high, white shirt-collar of unusual
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 13 
 
 volume, there was nothing remarkable about 
 it. Of late he had been accustomed to wear 
 loose and ample garments of fine kerseymere 
 and broadcloth, though, to be sure, when he 
 was at home, and there were no visitors of 
 distinction, he used to wear a coat as seldom 
 as any Turk or Indian chief. He was a 
 shrewd, observing man, and, by means of this 
 quality and habit of mind, had contrived to 
 acquire a fund of practical knowledge, which 
 stood him in very good stead of the bookish 
 wisdom that many of his fellows and asso- 
 ciates in public life had been taught by the 
 professors and tutors of Yale College. He 
 had a bluff, hearty manner, was good-humored 
 and benevolent in disposition, yet, withal, 
 extremely self-willed and opinionated, and apt, 
 if flatly opposed, to be violent and overbearing. 
 Nevertheless, like many other obstinate peo- 
 ple, he was quite easily managed by those 
 who knew how to humor him. His wife, 
 who was his junior by some fifteen years, a 
 brisk, rosy, handsome little woman, with a 
 sharp, clear, merry gray eye, (it was whispered 
 by the Walbury folks,) could wind him round
 
 14 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 and round either one of her plump, white 
 fingers that she chose. Howbeit, the Colonel 
 was generally reputed to have a stiff will of 
 his own, and, in consequence, was quite often 
 spoken of when out of hearing as " Old Fixed 
 Starr," a nickname first invented and applied 
 to him by his own head hired man, a waggish 
 fellow of droll speech and countenance, who 
 never opened his queer-looking mouth but the 
 neighbors made ready to laugh. 
 
 The Colonel was a popular and efficient 
 magistrate. Twice a month, or oftener, he 
 was accustomed to hold a justice court in the 
 south front room of his house, and the session 
 of this tribunal used to be indicated by divers 
 signs and tokens, that even the wayfaring 
 man, passing by in the street, if a Yankee, 
 would not have failed to understand. The 
 horses hitched by the road-side, at the gate, 
 or under the shade of the cherry trees in the 
 lane, standing hour after hour, stamping and 
 whisking their tails to drive away the swarms 
 of tormenting flies that disturbed their drowsy 
 meditations ; the little squads of men grouped 
 about the door of the court-room at the cor-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 15 
 
 ner of the house, or leaning across the fence, 
 talking together in couples, discussing the 
 case on trial, or, perhaps, proposing "swaps" 
 or driving bargains, never ceasing, meanwhile, 
 to whittle diligently; the dogs lounging 
 around the steps at their masters' feet, or 
 romping together in the thick grass of the 
 front door-yard ; and the glimpses through 
 the open windows of sweating spectators, 
 sitting in their shirt-sleeves, and listening, with 
 the interest that Anglo-Saxons ever take in 
 judicial proceedings, to the reading of the de- 
 claration and pleadings, the testimony of the 
 witnesses, the argument of the lawyers, or the 
 opinions of his worship, the justice, himself. 
 
 The equity of the judgments of this court 
 was rarely questioned ; for the long experience 
 of the Colonel, as a legislator and magistrate, 
 was a sufficient warranty of his knowledge 
 and ability to administer justice according to 
 law. With the two volumes of Swift's 
 System as lamps to his feet, and the Revised 
 Statutes as a staff in his hand, the Colonel was 
 able to see his way and guide his course 
 among the crooked mazes of the most com-
 
 16 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 plicated case. And although there often 
 would arise puzzling interlocutory questions, 
 with respect to such abstruse and technical 
 matters as pleas in abatement, demurrers, and 
 the admissibility of evidence, the Colonel rarely 
 found much difficulty in making up his mind 
 how to decide the final issue. His natural 
 sagacity and shrewd common sense enabled 
 him to perceive upon which side lay the right, 
 notwithstanding the legal mists by which the 
 pettifoggers endeavored to obscure the view ; 
 and though it must be confessed that his 
 decisions were not always good law, they 
 seldom failed, nevertheless, to be excellent 
 justice. 
 
 There were, to be sure, irreverent people, 
 who, while smarting with the disappointment 
 occasioned by a defeat, would sometimes revive 
 a piece of idle gossip, which was kept current 
 by these very means. It was said that the 
 Colonel, whenever he expected to try a cause 
 of unusual importance, doubt, or complexity, 
 would be sure to leave ajar the door between 
 the south room and the entry, so that his wife, 
 in the sitting-room beyond, could hear the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 17 
 
 proceedings as well as himself, and thereby be 
 enabled to give him the benefit of her advice 
 with respect to the merits of the case. But 
 all the ill-mannered jeers, gibes, and grumblings 
 of these discontented fellows, did not, in the 
 least, shake the confidence of the public in the 
 wisdom of the Colonel's legal decisions, for, as 
 everybody knew, Mrs. Manners was a shrewd, 
 clever woman, of more than ordinary wit and 
 learning, and was as well able to give discreet 
 counsel in a difficult matter as e'er a man in 
 Walbury. 
 
 But besides these judicial labors in which 
 the Colonel took great delight he performed, 
 for nearly all the town, the various ministerial 
 duties that usually appertain to the office of a 
 rural justice of the peace. He draughted and 
 took the acknowledgment of all deeds and 
 other legal instruments; he administered the 
 oath of office to the selectmen, the haywards, 
 the tithing-men, and the other town officers ; 
 he presided at meetings of the civil authority 
 for the nomination of taverners, and the selec- 
 tion of fit names to put into the jury-box; 
 and, finally, he joined in the strong but silken
 
 18 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 bonds of matrimony more couples, in the 
 course of a year, than even Parson Graves 
 himself. 
 
 There is no country in Christendom where 
 it is so easy for any willing pair either to be 
 married or to be divorced (as they may happen 
 to be inclined), without tedious delays and 
 formalities, as in the Puritan State of Connec- 
 ticut. In some of the counties, it is said, the 
 suits for divorce exceed in number all the 
 other causes upon the dockets of the courts, 
 and, until within a year or two, the Legislature 
 used to be busy for nearly half its session, 
 hearing the plaints of discontented married 
 folks, and cutting them loose from each other 
 by means of special enactments. On the other 
 hand, instead of the three weeks' posting of a 
 written notice, declaratory of an intention to 
 marry, whicli was formerly required by the 
 laws of the neighboring states whereby it 
 was rendered necessary to advertise a wedding 
 by placards, like a sheriff's sale in Connecti- 
 cut it has always been sufficient, according to 
 the statute in such cases made and provided, to 
 give notice to the world by a single proclaim-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 19 
 
 tion only, so that it has often happened that a 
 couple have been published at the meeting- 
 house, just before the benediction, at the close 
 of afternoon service, on Sunday, and in ten 
 minutes afterwards have been duly joined in 
 marriage at the parsonage hard by. 
 
 It would be natural to suppose that a statute 
 imposing such slight restraints and reasonable 
 delays would be cheerfully obeyed. But, 
 although the Yankees are (as, indeed, they 
 ought to be,) the most orderly and law-abiding 
 people in the world, an opportunity of dex- 
 trously evading the spirit and intent of a law, 
 while keeping safely within the letter of its 
 provisions, presents a temptation which a 
 shrewd Yankee finds it difficult to resist. 
 
 So, for time immemorial, it has been a cus- 
 tom, observed by many ardent young people 
 living in the border towns of the states adja- 
 cent to Connecticut, to be posted in their own 
 parishes for a single Sunday, and then, being 
 thus duly qualified for matrimony, according 
 to the laws of Connecticut, to straightway 
 cross the line, and be married forthwith by 
 some good-natured justice of the peace, or
 
 20 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 other proper authority ; avoiding by this strata- 
 gem the other two weeks of probation and 
 irksome delay, to which they would have been 
 subjected by a strict adherence to the letter 
 of the statute of their own native common- 
 wealth. Now Walbury being not only a 
 border town, but one lying near the very cor- 
 ner of the state, not far distant from the fron- 
 tiers of both Massachusetts and Rhode Island, 
 in course of time became a sort of Gretna 
 Green, to which people in haste to be married 
 were wont to resort ; and Colonel Manrnes, 
 being the most notable justice of the peace of 
 the vicinage, it happened, as a matter of course, 
 that almost every couple that came to Wal- 
 bury on an urgent matrimonial errand, from 
 across the border, applied to him. So, by 
 means of these circumstances, it came to pass 
 that he married more people than even the 
 minister, and from this source derived a very 
 considerable revenue. 
 
 It was sometimes whispered by the village 
 gossips, that the Colonel was not always as 
 particular as he ought to have been in his 
 questions to candidates for matrimony, con-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 21 
 
 cerning the evidence and the fact of the 
 previous public notice of their intentions 
 thereto ; and Miss Tabitha Graves, the parson's 
 daughter, who was the chief of the village 
 band of elderly young ladies, was accustomed, 
 at meetings of the Dorcas Society and Sewing 
 Circle, to inveigh, with excessive acrimony, 
 against the law by which a mere magistrate 
 and a layman was permitted to officiate in the 
 marriage ceremony. Indeed, though she was 
 a rigid Presbyterian, she was almost inclined 
 to consider this rite as a sacrament of the 
 church, to be administered only by the conse- 
 crated clergy. 
 
 But as it was very well known and under- 
 stood that Miss Tabitha held the folly which 
 entices young folks into the state of wedlock 
 in great scorn and contempt, and scarcely ever 
 heard of a wedding without expressing, albeit 
 in a sharp and snappish tone, her pity and 
 commiseration for the fond and foolish bride, 
 people did not regard her animadversions as 
 worthy of serious attention, though if the 
 truth were only known, it was indeed a fact 
 that the Colonel, rather than lose a good fee,
 
 22 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 was willing to make a pair of any two single 
 lovers that desired him to couple them ; and if 
 the parties appeared to be of a properly mature 
 age, was in nowise disposed to be over nice 
 and punctilious about the matter of the bans. 
 The Colonel and his wife had but one child, 
 a daughter, upon whom, as it is natural to 
 suppose, her parents bestowed the most tender 
 affection, and for the reason that she was the 
 sole heiress apparent of a large estate, she had 
 been, of course, from her childhood, the sub- 
 ject of a large amount of village gossip. Now 
 this young person is to be the heroine of my 
 story ; and I feel no little concern, therefore, 
 at being obliged to confess that which every- 
 body would suspect, even if I should attempt 
 to conceal it. Lucy Manners was a spoiled 
 child, and she grew up to be such a willful, 
 wayward little hussy, that when but a little 
 puss in pantalettes, of no more than thirteen 
 years old, she was mistress of her father's 
 house, and had everything her own way, 
 except when her mother contrived to out- 
 manage her. However, as it almost always 
 happened that Lucy's own way was the pret-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 23 
 
 tiest way in the world, I do not think, after 
 all, that it was any great matter to be sorry 
 for. 
 
 She was a shrewd body withal, as her 
 mother's child would be apt to be, and having 
 devoured with an insatiable appetite the con- 
 tents of every novel in the parish, and received 
 instructions in Latin from Parson Graves, the 
 minister, and having been afterwards sent to 
 complete her education at the notable board- 
 ing-school of Misses Primber, at Hartford, the 
 gossips were probably not very far from the 
 truth when they affirmed, that she knew a 
 good deal more than any other young woman 
 of her age in Walbury, and almost as much as 
 the Parson himself. Indeed, I dare say that, 
 with respect to some subjects, her knowledge 
 even exceeded that of the worthy divine. 
 
 I am of a good mind to say nothing concern- 
 ing Lucy's person ; for, as everybody knows, 
 Ipach author that writes a novel or story is 
 sure to represent the heroine of his tale as 
 the most beautiful creature that ever lived ; 
 just as the knights-errant of old used to stroll 
 about the country, asserting everywhere the
 
 24 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 preeminent charms of their respective lady- 
 loves, and breaking each other's heads and 
 bones whenever they chanced to meet, and to 
 disagree upon this point, as was almost always 
 sure to happen. I say I am almost of a good 
 mind not to tell whether Lucy Manners was 
 handsome or not, but leave each one to form 
 his own opinion. For it is evident, that, 
 whereas, in the days of chivalry, there could 
 have been but one of all the knights-errant 
 in Christendom whose claims were really 
 veritable, so now there can be but a single 
 author of all the legion of story-writers that 
 affirms the simple truth respecting his heroine. 
 And I fear that it would look like presump- 
 tion in me who am young and inexperienced, 
 and a mere tyro to assert that I alone am 
 entitled to the distinction of writing about the 
 most charming heroine that was ever heard of. 
 But if you had seen this young girl, in the 
 very month of May in which she attained the 
 age of eighteen, just after her return home 
 from the Misses Primber's school, you would 
 not have thought such a pretension upon my 
 part to be extravagant; for I verily believe
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 25 
 
 that to have made her any handsomer than 
 she was, would have been a needless waste of 
 beauty. 
 
 I will not incur the folly of an attempt to 
 describe such a peerless creature ; yet as it is 
 quite probable that many will be curious with 
 respect to the style of her beauty, and will 
 be ready to ask whether she was plump or 
 thin, fair or dark complexion, tall or short, 
 and so forth, I will proceed to be more expli- 
 cit concerning these matters, meanwhile dis- 
 claiming all intention of giving a downright 
 description of my heroine, according to the 
 fashion prevalent among authors. And hereby 
 I make manifest the sincerity of my own 
 belief in the superiority of Lucy's good looks. 
 For it would be a very easy thing after 
 having asserted, in general terms, that she 
 was without a rival to leave each of my 
 readers to paint her picture for himself, and 
 so each one would be sure to imagine her to 
 be what he most admires. But I disdain to 
 use any such unworthy artifice, in order to gain 
 for my heroine the suffrages of my readers, at 
 the expense of her individuality. 
 3
 
 26 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 So then I will say that Lucy was in hight 
 about five feet and three or four inches. Her 
 figure was slight and graceful, befitting her 
 youth, though the budding beauties of her form 
 gave promise of ripening, in due season, into 
 the symmetrical proportions of mature and 
 perfect womanhood. She was very fair, with 
 light brown hair that had a pale golden tint in 
 the sun, so thick and wavy, and apt to curl 
 withal, that she used commonly to wear it on 
 her neck and falling over her white shoulders ; 
 though of late, to be sure, since she had been 
 at Hartford, it had grown too long to be suf- 
 fered to have its own way in this fashion. 
 Her face was oval, with a low, broad forehead, 
 and a delicate little chin and rosy mouth, with 
 dimples in each cheek, that chastened the 
 somewhat imperious expression given to her 
 face by her large, calm gray eyes and straight 
 nose. This blending of haughtiness and 
 sweetness was also perceptible in her manner 
 as well as in her face. The queen of gods and 
 men could not assume a mien more superb 
 than this little country girl; the queen of 
 hearts, sweet Venus herself, was not more 
 capable of inspiring love.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 27 
 
 I am sure that, by this time, I have made it 
 evident to everybody that my heroine is a 
 very lovely, deserving person, and worthy of 
 the place of honor in brighter pages than 
 mine a reflection at the same time pleasant 
 and painful. I must confess, however, that I 
 am conscious of feeling a good deal of satisfac- 
 tion at my good fortune, in having discovered 
 this "gem of purest ray serene," in the seques- 
 tered valley of the Niptuck ; for I cannot but 
 hope that its luster will be reflected upon the 
 setting in which I shall place it, and so cause 
 my humble story to be regarded with com- 
 placency, and perhaps even with delight by 
 those whose good opinion I am so desirous to 
 gain. 
 
 That so handsome a creature should have 
 lovers, was a matter of course, and needs not 
 be averred. Even when Lucy was a little 
 witch of ten, and went to the district-school 
 in a short frock and pantalettes, the boys used 
 to strive for the privilege of carrying her din- 
 ner basket, and the lucky fellow who secured 
 her for a passenger, to haul home upon a sled, 
 was pretty sure to run a gauntlet of snow-balls
 
 28 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 as soon as he had left his lovely fare at her 
 father's gate. Indeed, I have good reason to 
 believe that, before she was ten years of age, she 
 had received a proposal of marriage from her 
 cousin, John Dashleigh who was but three 
 years older and that she had returned a favor- 
 able reply, accompanied with several kisses, 
 and a great many tears and passionate excla- 
 mations ; for John was to start the next 
 morning, with his mother and grandfather, in 
 the very tilted wagon in which the children 
 then sat, for the Genesee country, four hundred 
 miles away into the woods, among the bears 
 and savage Indians. 
 
 But as the years came and went, John's 
 image, for a while very carefully cherished, 
 grew fainter and fainter in her memory, and in 
 the course of time she never could tell when 
 or how it began to be considered a settled 
 thing that when she grew up she was to 
 marry young Joab Sweeny, for whom she could 
 not help feeling a hearty dislike ; and, in fact, 
 throughout the neighborhood, it came to be 
 well understood that Fixed Starr and Deacon 
 Joab Sweeny's wife, his sister Achsah, had ne-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 29 
 
 gotiated an alliance between Lucy and her 
 cousin, young Joab. To contend against the 
 will of either of these resolute personages was 
 a thing but seldom dreamed of in Walbury. 
 To hope to subvert their joint decree was of 
 course quite out of the question. Besides, 
 when Lucy made her appearance at meeting, 
 the first Sunday after her return home from 
 the Misses Primber's great school at Hartford, 
 she was dressed in such a stylish mode, she 
 carried herself so haughtily, and, above all, she 
 was so transcendently lovely, that the young 
 swains of Walbury, though struck dumb with 
 admiration, instinctively felt that it was mad- 
 ness to aspire to so exalted a fortune as her 
 love would confer. To be sure, the more 
 enterprising of the young fellows, her former 
 school-mates, had, according to the custom of 
 smart young Yankees, left their native village 
 in quest of fortunes abroad. I dare say that if 
 either Jack Ross or Sam Grosvenor had been 
 at home that Sunday night, he would have 
 ventured to have called at the Colonel's for the 
 purpose of inviting Lucy to go to the singing 
 school. Be that as it may, young Joab
 
 30 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 Sweeny, as he made ready to do his mother's 
 bidding, and went up into his chamber to 
 repair his Sunday toilet before setting out to 
 call on his fair cousin, confidently supposed 
 that he had no reason to fear a rival. Albeit, 
 in this Joab reckoned without his host, as the 
 saying is, as will hereinafter more fully and at 
 large appear.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE father of Mrs. Manners had been, in his 
 generation, one of the richest farmers in Wai- 
 bury. Her only brother, John Dashleigh, her 
 senior by several years, did not inherit the 
 thrifty habits of his worthy parent, but grew 
 up to be a handsome, careless, jovial, curly- 
 pated fellow, as averse to hard labor as he was 
 fond of riding about the country on his father's 
 best mare, to cattle shows and turkey-shoots, 
 and of attending all the dances, quiltings, 
 sleigh-rides, and other junkettings that were 
 held within a circuit of thirty miles. His 
 father's sudden and accidental death, the cares 
 consequent upon his accession to the paternal 
 estate, and, above all, the gentle influence of a 
 pretty, newly-wedded wife, sobered and steadied 
 him for a while; but having been unfortunately 
 appointed by the high-sheriff as one of his 
 deputies, he was frequently called away from 
 home to perform the duties of his office, and 
 began to neglect his farm and the toilsome
 
 32 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 business of husbandry. Another misfortune 
 befell him, in the flattering guise of an election 
 to the command of a troop of horse in the 
 militia. He was proud of this distinction, and 
 the sums that he expended at training and 
 muster days increased from year to year, until 
 they consumed the greater portion of the 
 shrinking income of his farm. His horses soon 
 outnumbered his kine, and his dogs the gos- 
 sipping neighbor-wives said were sometimes 
 better fed than his children. His debts in- 
 creased as his means of payment diminished. 
 Creditors began to press him, and he had more 
 writs served upon him than he, as deputy 
 sheriff, served upon other people. From time 
 to time he borrowed of his brother-in-law, 
 until at last, the good Colonel, not then so rich 
 as he afterwards became, was obliged to mort- 
 gage his wife's outlands to raise the money to 
 lend him. Finally, one evil day, while away 
 from home at a cattle-show, and half intoxi- 
 cated, he suffered the time to slip by at which 
 it was his duty (put off till the last moment 
 and then forgotten) to return his writs to a 
 term of court. By this negligence several
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 33 
 
 plaintiffs, the attaching creditors of an insol- 
 vent corporation, lost the security for their 
 claims to which they otherwise would have 
 been entitled. Sheriff Dashleigh was a ruined 
 man. The remnant of his estate but half 
 sufficed to pay the damages recovered against 
 him by the exasperated creditors. His bonds- 
 men, Colonel Manners and Deacon Joab 
 Sweeny, were obliged to pay the heavy balance. 
 The high-sheriff removed his delinquent deputy 
 from office. After that day John Dashleigh 
 never held up his head ; and six months after- 
 wards the neighbors bore his broken heart to 
 his grave. Poor Dashleigh had never forgiven 
 himself for the misfortune that he had brought 
 upon his family and his friends. But with all 
 his big heart did Colonel Manners accord a full 
 pardon to the brother of his wife, as he stood 
 by his dying-bed, and pressed his hand and 
 bade him die in peace. The payment of the 
 large sums required to satisfy the claims of the 
 creditors, injured by John Dashleigh's Idckes, 
 had wrought a woeful diminution of the value 
 of the Colonel's worldly estate ; but, for 
 all that, most freely did he give to the widow
 
 34 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 the price of his well-beloved span of gray 
 colts, the pride of his heart, when with her 
 children she set out to seek a home, under her 
 father's roof, in the far distant Genesee coun- 
 try to which he had emigrated. But Deacon 
 Joab Sweeny never forgave the man whose 
 default had cost him five thousand dollars. 
 He never forgot the chagrin of that heavy loss, 
 although afterwards, his brother-in-law, the 
 Colonel, repaid him both principal and interest, 
 because, as he said, it had been at his request 
 that the Deacon joined with him in signing 
 the bond. 
 
 " Good Lud, sister Axy," said he, rather 
 testily, to the Deacon's wife, who improved 
 this occasion to reproach him for ever having 
 had anything to do with "that shiftless cretur," 
 as she had always called John Dashleigh ; 
 " Good Lud, ef I be a fool, as you say, I duuno 
 ez its any o' your business, by gracious ! The 
 Deacon's got his pay, haint he? and, as for me, 
 I believe I've got enough left to live on a 
 spell, anyhow, without comin' onto the town, 
 and ef you don't believe it I'm willing to com- 
 pare with anybody in Walbury. 'Taint alwus
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 35 
 
 them as pinches a ninepunce till it squeals 
 that gets the most forehanded, mum, and 
 'twont do you a mite o' hurt to hear so nuther." 
 
 Quite variant and somewhat characteristic 
 were the reflections and remarks made by the 
 several parties and witnesses to this last-men- 
 tioned transaction, immediately after the de- 
 parture of Colonel Manners from Deacon 
 Sweeny's house. 
 
 "I'm a fool, eh?" muttered the Colonel to 
 himself, as he unhitched his horse from the 
 post at the gate. "Well, maybe I be," he 
 continued, when he got into his wagon, gather- 
 ed up his reins, and started homewards ; 
 " maybe I be ; but all money's good for is to 
 use, and ef I haint made a good investment to- 
 night, then I never did in my judgment. In 
 the first place I've stopped Axy's everlastin' 
 jaw about John Dashleigh ; that's worth a 
 thousand dollars at the least kalkilation. I'm 
 able to look the Deacon straight in the eye 
 agin without feelin' as if he was a thinkin' 
 about my askin' him to put his name to that 
 ere bond; and that's worth another thousand. 
 Then I've pleased my wife, and under sich
 
 36 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 circumstances I can't call that less than another 
 thousand ; and finally I've suited myself and 
 had my own way, and that makes up the 
 balance ; and, by gracious !" pursued theBolo- 
 nel, laughing outright in the dark all to him- 
 self, and whipping his old horse in his glee; 
 "and the best on't is it's all clear gain, for 
 the Deacon '11 save every soomarkee on't for 
 the children, and that's jest what I should ha' 
 done, and all the difference is, he's got the 
 trouble of takin' keer on't, and I haint." 
 
 " There, Deacon, what have I alwus told 
 ye?" cried Mrs. Sweeny, turning from the 
 window as her brother drove away, and choos- 
 ing to forget the prophecies of coming upon 
 the town for the lack of the money, just re- 
 paid, to which she had given almost daily- 
 utterance for the past five years. "Ah! I 
 don't wonder you don't want to look up. I 
 should think you'd feel like sinkin' right into 
 the airth before me, when you think how 
 often you've blamed me for speakin' my mind 
 to Starr, and say in' I'd make him mad by 
 tellin' him jest what I thought of his conduct, 
 a-gettin' you into that awful scrape, all for the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 37 
 
 sake of that wicked, shiftless cretur, which 
 you see it has come out jest as I alwus knew 
 it would, in my own mind, if I only kep a 
 bearin my witness agin' it. / knew, and you 
 might, too, if you'd only had an atom of my 
 sense. I think I've talked to some purpose, 
 hey, haint I? Sixty-five hundred dollars don't 
 grow on every bush, Deacon Sweeny, and ain't 
 to be got nor saved by talking every day, by 
 a good deal. You'd have to talk till your 
 tongue dropped off before you'd save sixty-five 
 hundred dollars by it. I've talked to as good 
 purpose as the lawyers, I guess. Good Land ! 
 I wonder what you'd come to if it wan't for 
 me?" 
 
 The Deacon, who was so accustomed to the 
 din of his wife's scolding that he scarcely ever 
 gave it any heed, sat meanwhile with his chin 
 upon his breast, silently meditating upon the 
 recent event. "It's raaly a very handsome 
 thing in Starr," thought he, "though after 
 all, 'twan't no mor'n his bounden dooty in 
 conscience, and every one or't to do their 
 dooty without expectin' to be praised for't. 
 
 I've hoped and prayed that he might be led to 
 4
 
 38 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 see it, and I've had purty strong faith that my 
 prayers would be answered. I or't to be 
 thankful, and so I am. I'll give le's see 
 I'll give twenty dollars towards new shinglin' 
 the meetin-house that's purty near a third o' 
 one per cent., and actilly that's handsome 
 and all the rest '11 seem like clear gain. ' Penny 
 saved is a penny airnt,' Poor Richard says. I 
 know jest where I can put the money out and 
 have it tickin' to good advantage. Here was 
 Jim Sparks, only last night, a-wantin' to borry 
 two thousand on his farm, and I couldn't let 
 him have it. Now I can accommodate him, 
 and ef he goes on for three years to come as 
 he has for three years back, the farm '11 be 
 mine, and for half its raal vally ; and the 
 balance of the money I know where I can put 
 it out and have it airn me as good as twelve 
 per cent., and as safe, too, as Hartford Bank 
 stock. I declare, it raaly seems as ef I could 
 behold the fingers of Providence in this here, 
 purty plain." 
 
 "What a pile of money," thought young 
 Joab, who, before his uncle's visit, had been 
 sitting at the table, solving problems in com-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 39 
 
 pound interest from Daboll, in preparation for 
 the morrow's lesson at school. " I wish it 
 was mine, and, by jingo, it will be when 'pa 
 dies, if he ever does ;" and then, having esti- 
 mated the number of years his parent would 
 be likely to survive according to the usual 
 course of nature, he proceeded to apply the 
 rule of compound interest to the case in hand, 
 and experienced a deal of satisfaction in finding 
 how large a sum the money just paid, with 
 interest upon interest, would amount to at the 
 end of twenty years. 
 
 "Sixty-five hundred dollars!" thought Sally 
 Blake, the kitchen help, who sat at the chim- 
 ney corner paring apples for drying. " If I 
 had it, I'd give the most on't to Andrew to 
 buy a farm and stock of cattle, and with the 
 balance I'd get furniture and clothes, and we'd 
 be married next Thanksgiving;" and, absorbed 
 in the pleasing fancies to which these reflec- 
 tions gave rise, poor Sally forgot what she was 
 about, and actually paused in her labor, her 
 hand holding a half-peeled pippin, resting on 
 the tray in her lap, until young Joab called 
 his mother's attention to this circumstance,
 
 40 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 whereupon Mrs. Sweeny administered to her 
 help a sharp reproof, and told her she wasn't 
 worth her salt ; Joab chuckled and made faces, 
 looking up with a hateful grin at Sally, as 
 he spit on his slate, and rubbed out his sum 
 with his cuff, while Sally herself, roused from 
 a reverie just as she was choosing a name for 
 the first baby, blushed till her pretty face was 
 red as scarlet, and then with a fluttering sigh 
 resumed her task. 
 
 But, as Mrs. Sweeny correctly remarked, 
 sixty-five hundred dollars don't grow on every 
 bush, and the shrubs are rare from which but 
 half the sum can be picked; and so it hap- 
 pened that five years elapsed before Andrew 
 Bunn, the Colonel's waggish head-man, and 
 Sally Blake had earned and saved enough to 
 make it prudent for them to marry each other, 
 to buy the Jim Sparks farm, (which, sure 
 enough, the Deacon by that time had for sale), 
 and to set up in the world for themselves. 
 But the five years came and went, leaving 
 crow's feet at the corners of Andrew's eyes, 
 and tracing faint wrinkles on Sally's forehead, 
 and at last the farm was bought, and half paid
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 41 
 
 for, and the other half secured by a mortgage 
 back, and the joyful Thanksgiving-day arrived, 
 to which, it must be confessed, Sally, subject 
 to the rigorous discipline of Mrs. Sweeny's 
 household rule, had looked forward with 
 greater impatience than even her lover, who, 
 meanwhile, as Colonel Manners' head farm- 
 hand, had been his own master. They had a 
 very nice wedding at Deacon Sweeny's, (for 
 Sally was an orphan whom Mrs. Sweeny had 
 taken to bring up), the expense of which 
 was deducted from the sum due to Sally for 
 wages. It was at this wedding that Lucy 
 who was at home for Thanksgiving week 
 conceived a feeling of hearty, active dislike for 
 her cousin Joab, for the reason only that he 
 ventured, upon this occasion, for the first time 
 in his life, to allude to the fact, well under- 
 stood by both, that they were to marry each 
 other. " I say, Lucy," said he in a whisper, 
 with a sheepish look, "we'll have a weddin' of 
 our own bimeby. I guess by about next 
 Thanksgivin', a year from now, it '11 be you 
 and I." At this Lucy blushed violently, and 
 then turned deadly pale, to the great delight
 
 42 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 of her aunt Sweeny, who had, in fact, invent- 
 ed the speech, and had been at great pains in 
 encouraging her son to repeat it, and had 
 watched closely to notice the effect produced 
 thereby. That some time in the future, she 
 was to marry Joab, Lucy had always been told 
 and believed without thinking much about it ; 
 but she had always disliked Joab, and this 
 unwonted effort of gallantry on the part of 
 her awkward cousin, at such a time, shocked 
 her like a death-warning, and served to show 
 her very vividly how extremely distasteful to 
 her was the idea of her intended fate. 
 
 The next day the newly-married pair took 
 up their abode in a little cottage belonging to 
 the Colonel, which stood over against his own 
 house, on the other side of the way, where 
 they were to reside during the winter, until 
 the time should come for them to enter into 
 possesion of the Jim Sparks farm 
 
 To find a proper person to fill the post of 
 manager on his farm, which Andrew Bunn 
 had so long and so worthily occupied, caused 
 Colonel Manners a vast amount of vexation 
 and trouble. The homestead was a very large
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 43 
 
 farm; besides which there were several 'out- 
 land fields and lots, and though he by no 
 means neglected to superintend his business 
 when at home, and sometimes used even to 
 labor with his own hands at raking hay, mend- 
 ing fence, and jobs of the like sort, the Colonel 
 had long before ceased to head in person his 
 troop of farm-hands, or to exercise over their 
 operations that constant supervision which a 
 good farmer is apt to consider essential to 
 profitable husbandry. This position had long 
 been filled by Andrew, and was soon to be- 
 come vacant. Several candidates offered them- 
 selves, but none were found to suit the Colonel, 
 who was, it must be confessed, somewhat fas- 
 tidious and hypercritical, although one of the 
 rejected missed obtaining the desirable situa- 
 tion by a hair's breadth only. "How do you 
 contrive about getting bean-poles for the gar- 
 din?" asks the Colonel as a final and test 
 question. "Why," replies the man, "afore 
 it comes time to pole the beans, I send the 
 boys to the swamp, and hev 'em cut, and 
 haul home a load with the waggiu." 
 
 "Very well; very well," cries the Colonel;
 
 44 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "that'll do good day! A man that don't 
 know how to provide bean-poles for a gardin, 
 ain't the man to oversee my farm." 
 
 It was the very morning when the Colonel 
 was again disappointed in the manner just 
 related, that a letter was received from John 
 Dashleigh's widow, who was still living in 
 the Genesee country. Her father was dead, 
 and gone to a better world, she wrote, and 
 having sold out her interest in the estate he 
 left behind him to her brothers, she wished 
 to come and end her days among the scenes 
 of her earlier and happier life, at Walbury, 
 where there was no fever and ague, nor In- 
 dians, nor wild beasts, but everything was 
 quiet and orderly, and there was a good school 
 for her little girl, and the stated preaching of 
 the Gospel, and other Christian privileges for 
 herselfj but John, her oldest child, now a 
 full-grown man of twenty-one years of age, 
 had expressed a strong desire to emigrate to 
 Ohio, and buy wild land there, and clear a 
 farm, and grow up with the country, as he 
 called it, a project which, it was evident, 
 the widow herself regarded with apprehension
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 45 
 
 and dislike. Still, she said that she should 
 do, after all, as John thought best ; for, though 
 she said it, that shouldn't say it, he was as 
 good a son as there was in the world, and 
 for his age his judgment was excellent, and 
 that she depended on him for advice as much 
 as she ever had on his father; which, without 
 doubt, she did indeed, and more too, for that 
 matter, as Mrs. Manners said aloud in a paren- 
 thesis when she read the letter to her hus- 
 band. And though John was a good scholar, 
 (the widow's letter continued), and amazingly 
 fond of reading and books, there wasn't a 
 better farmer in the whole Genesee country 
 for his age, as all the near neighbors for ten 
 miles round those who knew him best had 
 been heard to say time and time again. 
 
 "How I should like to see him," quoth 
 Mrs. Manners, wiping her spectacles and fold- 
 ing up the letter when she had finished read- 
 ing it aloud. "What a comfort he must be 
 to his ma. Jest think on't, husband, of his 
 looking so much like his poor father, only 
 taller. What a handsome young fellow he 
 must be?"
 
 46 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "I don't believe much in that Ohio," re- 
 marked the Colonel, shaking his head. " They 
 talk a good deal on't, but it'll never be much 
 of a place. It's too fur off." 
 
 "I do hope and pray they wont make up 
 their minds to go there;" added his wife. 
 
 " She'd get fever'n-egg and Ingins enough 
 out to Ohio," resumed the Colonel, " and bears 
 and painters too, I tell ye." 
 
 "Massy! me!" cried Mrs. Manners, with a 
 little scream; "I wouldn't go for the world. 
 How fur off is it, Colonel?" 
 
 "Well; le's see," replied the Colonel, rub- 
 bing his head ; which, by the by, contained 
 no very clear idea concerning the territory in 
 question. "You see the distance varies ac- 
 cordin' as which way you go some's nearer 
 and some's furder." 
 
 "Say the nighest way," pursued Mrs. Man- 
 ners. 
 
 "Well, I should say mor'n a thousand 
 mild," replied the Colonel, hazarding a guess ; 
 which was, like most Yankee guesses, as near 
 the truth as the positive assertions of many 
 other people.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 47 
 
 "Goodness, gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Man- 
 ners, apparently quite aghast. "It's a good 
 ways beyond the Genesee country, then." 
 
 "Law," said the Colonel, with a knowing 
 air, "the Genesee country ain't half-way. 
 Why, it's beyond the Alleghany Mountains." 
 
 The same night, when this worthy couple 
 had retired to their own room, the lady, for 
 a purpose of her own, contrived to bring up 
 the subject of the Widow Dashleigh's letter, 
 and again, with a shudder, expressed her hor- 
 ror at the notion of her sister-in-law's emi- 
 gration to such a howling wilderness as Ohio. 
 "She's too fur along in life to think of such 
 a thing," said Mrs. Manners, "and for my 
 part, I should suppose John would rather settle 
 in this part of the country, now his grand'ther's 
 dead, than to go to such a wild place." 
 
 "I expect the syle is purty fertile, though," 
 remarked the Colonel. 
 
 "No wonder, if they find room to buiy all 
 them that dies with the fever'n-egg, and the 
 wild creturs don't dig up the corpses," said 
 his wife. 
 
 "I wouldn't want to live there myself,
 
 48 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 that's a fact. Ugh!" exclaimed the Colonel, 
 shivering as he jumped into bed. 
 
 "Why can't he come and lay out what 
 money they've got in a farm here?" pursued 
 Mrs. Manners. "If he's as good a farmer as 
 Sally says, he'd contrive to pay up in a little 
 while, even if he was obleged to run in debt 
 some. There's Andrew now," she continued, 
 "how long will it be before he'll be clear 
 of the world and forehanded?" 
 
 "And speaking of Andrew," she added pres- 
 ently, after a pause, during which she toasted 
 her little feet at the fire, put on her nightcap 
 and slily watched her husband's face, "what 
 on earth, Judge, are you going to do for a 
 man to take his place?" 
 
 "I dunno, I'm sure," said the Colonel. 
 Now, whenever Mrs. Manners called her hus- 
 band "Judge," to his face, it was a pretty 
 sure sign that she wished to make him good- 
 natured if inclined to be a little cross, or to 
 keep him in good humor if already so. How- 
 beit, the Colonel was not aware of this, though 
 he never failed to take notice whenever he 
 was addressed by this title.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 49 
 
 " The first thing you know, it '11 be time 
 to go to ploughing," said Mrs. Manners. 
 
 "I declare," cried the Colonel, suddenly 
 starting up in bed. "Betsy, I wonder if 
 young John Dashleigh now wouldn't be just 
 the man?" 
 
 "Good Land! how you skeert me!" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Manners; "I didn't know but 
 what you was took in a fit or something. 
 What was it you said about John Dashleigh?" 
 
 "I wonder if he wouldn't be just the feller 
 to come and take Andrew's place," said the 
 Colonel, lying down again. 
 , "Well, if I ever!" cried the lady, blowing 
 out the light and laughing to herself in the 
 dark. "What a quick witted creetur you be, 
 Judge. Who'd ha' thought o' him now, but 
 you, when he's five hundred miles away, and 
 we hain't seen him for I don't know how 
 many years?" 
 
 It would be manifestly improper to relate 
 to the world the conversation of this good 
 couple after they were all nicely tucked up 
 for the night. Let it suffice to say, that the 
 Colonel found no great difficulty in convincing
 
 50 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 his wife that the plan he had so ingeniously 
 thought of was a very good one indeed, and 
 successfully overthrew a few feeble objections 
 to it which she started. It was finally agreed, 
 however, at her suggestion, to sleep on the 
 project over night. But the next morning, 
 finding it all the better for having been slept 
 on, the Colonel accordingly dispatched a letter 
 to the Genesee country, proposing to the 
 Widow Dashleigh to come forthwith to Wai- 
 bury, and take up her abode in the little 
 cottage over the way, as soon as Andrew and 
 his wife should go to their farm, and also 
 offering the post of overseer and manager on 
 the homestead to her son John.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IT was a warm and beautiful afternoon in 
 the month of March, that the stage-coach from 
 Albany, which had been delayed by the muddy 
 roads form any hours behind its time, at last ar- 
 rived and drew up in front of Morgan's Tavern, 
 commonly called the Stage House, in State 
 Street, in the ancient town of Hartford. 
 Among the weary passengers that alighted 
 from it, were the Widow Dashleigh and her 
 two children, on their way from the Genesee 
 country to their old home in the Niptuck 
 Valley. The Providence coach, which used 
 to pass within a few miles of Walbury, had 
 been gone since four o'clock in the morning, 
 and the widow, (who was not very strong), 
 and her little daughter were not sorry for 
 the opportunity afforded them to rest for the 
 remainder of the day and night, before start- 
 ing upon the last stage of their long and 
 weary journey. So, after a late dinner, the 
 two women went to bed, to regain the sleep
 
 52 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 of which they had been cheated by their night 
 stage-ride, while John Dashleigh, whose vigor 
 had been sufficiently restored by a hearty meal, 
 sought his chamber only for the purpose of 
 arranging his disordered and travel-stained 
 dress, and then sallied forth to have a look 
 at the sights of the city. 
 
 But except the beautiful ladies for whom 
 Hartford was as justly famous in those days 
 as it is now there was nothing in the whole 
 town so well worth the looking at as John 
 Dashleigh himself. For, though it must be 
 confessed that his apparel, in spite of the 
 pains he had just bestowed upon it, still be- 
 trayed the marks of wear and travel, as well 
 as its origin in the backwoods, his form was 
 so tall, so well-shaped and so stately, that it 
 needed but slight embellishment by the skill 
 of the tailor. A man who, like John Dash- 
 leigh, is more than six feet in height, and well- 
 proportioned withal, need give little thought 
 to the fashion of his raiment. Then John's 
 face though by no means strictly handsome 
 was a very pleasant one even for a stranger 
 to see, and there was a noble, manly, and
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 53 
 
 yet gentle expression in his blue eyes, that 
 if I were a lady I should rather my lover 
 would possess than the most polished man- 
 ners and address, or ever so large an estate. 
 Besides, there was a merry, roguish, good- 
 humored look about his face, that lurked in 
 every feature, and which was heightened by 
 the appearance of his curly brown hairj and 
 as he walked, he carried himself as erect and 
 graceful as any Indian chief. So it is not 
 wonderful that, as he sauntered along the main 
 street, gazing curiously to the right and left 
 at whatsoever chanced to arrest his attention, 
 a great many bright glances were directed 
 towards him, which John erred greatly in 
 suspecting were attracted solely by the odd 
 appearance of his coonskin cap and buckskin 
 leggins and hunting-shirt. 
 
 If there had been men, only, to encounter, 
 our hero would have cared little for their 
 gazing; but when groups of ladies, of a beauty 
 quite awful to behold, met him and passed 
 by, rustling in their silken gowns, casting 
 quick, sidelong glances at him from their 
 bright, flashing eyes, and almost always turn-
 
 54 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 ing their heads to look after him, he began 
 to be sorely dismayed, though, doubtless, if 
 he had happened to overhear the remarks that 
 many of these fair dames made to each other 
 concerning him, his brown cheeks would have 
 reddened with modesty and pleasurable con- 
 fusion, instead of diffidence and shame; for 
 John, like every other true man and gallant 
 gentleman, regarded women with the utmost 
 respect and reverence, and set a very high 
 value upon their good opinion and praise. 
 
 At last, in a by-street, whither he had fled 
 for refuge from curious eyes, he saw coming 
 towards him a little throng of young women, 
 who were talking and laughing together, until 
 one of them happening to espy him, they 
 suddenly became silent, and each endeavored 
 to assume an air of decorous gravity. John 
 heard them whispering together as they cast 
 forward stealthy looks of observation at him 
 from beneath their downcast eyelids, his ear, 
 sharpened by suspicion, caught the sound of 
 a tittering laugh. He was afraid that the 
 whole bevy of blooming young girls were 
 making sport of his uncouth garb and rude
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 55 
 
 appearance, and with burinng cheeks he an- 
 ticipated the moment of meeting them. As 
 they approached still nearer, he raised, with 
 an effort, his bashful eyes, and his unsteady 
 glance rested upon a single face in the centre 
 of the group. At once he forgot his dress, 
 he forgot his rustic looks, he forgot himself; 
 nay, all the world was forgotten except that 
 fair young face; and while the train of demure 
 damsels tripped primly by, in becoming si- 
 lence, unbroken except by a roguish little 
 cough from a slim young witch with a gipsy 
 hat and mischievous black eyes, he stood, cap 
 in hand, in an attitude so full of unstudied 
 grace, and so expressive of profound and re- 
 spectful admiration, that there was not one 
 of them all who did not forgive, with all her 
 heart, the scandalous offense of a salute from 
 an utter stranger, notwithstanding the reprov- 
 ing severity of aspect that each one thought 
 it proper to assume. 
 
 As for John Dashleigh, he remained stand- 
 ing in the same place, still uncovered, with 
 his eyes fixed upon one form in the retreating 
 group, until it was eclipsed by the corner of
 
 56 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 a house at an angle of the street. Then all 
 at once he gave a little start, looked around 
 with the manner of one waking from a dream, 
 put his cap on his head and started, walking 
 rapidly, towards the point at which the young 
 women had vanished from his sight. When 
 he reached the place, however, there was 
 nothing to be seen of them. The street around 
 the corner was full of people, and though 
 he looked in every direction, up and down 
 the street and upon both sides of the way, he 
 failed to discover what he so eagerly sought; 
 and after walking about, looking everywhere 
 as he went, until the sun was set and the 
 shops began to be lighted, he gave up the 
 quest and turned his steps towards the inn.. 
 There are many very good and sensible 
 people, (if I dare hope that such will read 
 my story), who will, I fear, be disposed to 
 disbelieve this portion of it, or else to set 
 down John Dashleigh as a very weak, silly 
 young fellow, because he suffered himself to 
 fall suddenly and violently in love with a girl 
 whom he saw only for an instant, as she was 
 passing him in the street, and of whose name,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 57 
 
 rank, and circumstances, he was utterly igno- 
 rant. I trust, however, that other persons, 
 of equal good sense and greater experience, 
 will perceive nothing incredible in what I 
 have related. It is not always a matter of 
 option whether one will fall in love or no. 
 The pure and unsophisticated youthful heart 
 is sometimes like the tablet of the chemist, 
 which, when exposed to the presence of a 
 beautiful face, will instantly receive an im- 
 pression as delicate as the bloom upon the 
 grape, but capable of being rendered as inef- 
 faceable and enduring as graven steel or sculp- 
 tured marble. And that coarse, rough, obtuse 
 natures are not susceptible to this gentle influ- 
 ence, by no means proves that others are not 
 more impressible. For my part, like Falstaff, 
 I entertam a great respect for instinct, and 
 I firmly believe, not only that there is such 
 a thing as love at first sight, but that such 
 a love, being an instinctive emotion, is a very 
 safe guide to follow in the choice of a hus- 
 band or wife. 
 
 I once read a touching story of a poor fel- 
 low, who, in his youth, while walking in the
 
 58 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 crowded street of a populous city, saw, for 
 the duration of a single glance, the features 
 of a beautiful lady with whom he at once 
 fell madly in love. He turned to follow her, 
 but she had mingled with the throng of pas- 
 sengers and was lost from his sight. And 
 though day after day he thenceforth haunted 
 the spot where he had met her, until weeks 
 lengthened into months, and months grew to be 
 years, he never saw the lady again. His youth 
 was spent and his manhood's prime wasted 
 in the fruitless quest, yet, when extreme old 
 age had come upon him, he was still accus- 
 tomed to take his stand each morning, in rain 
 or shine, in cold or heat, upon the long-fre- 
 quented spot, and carefully attired in the style 
 of fifty years bygone, to peer eagerly at the 
 faces of the young and fair as they passed 
 by him, still seeking among them the original 
 of the picture cherished for so many weary 
 years in his faithful, constant heart; sighing 
 heavily at each new disappointment, and press- 
 ing his feeble palms together with a gesture 
 of subdued impatience. 
 
 I repeat this story, not because I think John
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 59 
 
 Dashleigh ever would or could have been 
 guilty of a folly like that of this poor heart- 
 blighted creature. Indeed, as we shall pres- 
 ently see, he turned his back upon Hartford, 
 and went on his way towards Walbury the 
 veiy next morning after his meeting with the 
 beautiful unknown young lady, without hav- 
 ing, in the mean time, seen her again, or ob- 
 tained the least clue by which he might trace 
 out her identity. But my purpose is to show, 
 by a well authenticated instance, that an en- 
 during love, evidenced by unequaled devotion 
 and fidelity, may be kindled by a single glance. 
 I am not able to tell, (I must confess,) with 
 any more certainty than the most sensible 
 and matter-of-fact person in the world, what 
 would have been the effect upon John Dash- 
 leigh's future life, if he had never beheld the 
 beautiful unknown again. I think, however, 
 that he himself came very near the truth, as 
 he sat upon the coach-box, with the driver, 
 the next morning, thinking soberly of this 
 very matter, and at the same time looking 
 back towards the steeples of Hartford, piercing 
 through the mist that had risen from the
 
 60 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 river, and catching on their sharp pinnacles 
 the first ruddy gleams of the early dawn. 
 "The chances are," said John to himself, 
 "that I shall never see her again;" and with 
 this he felt a twinge of the heart-ache, which 
 it required all his fortitude to endure and to 
 conceal; "and even if I should," he con- 
 tinued, still to himself, "a beautiful, delicate 
 creature like this, some very rich man's daugh- 
 ter, probably, would be so far above me, that 
 I could never hope to win her. I know that 
 I could love her as I can never love any one 
 else, but I must not let myself love, though 
 I never can forget her. We shall never be 
 to each other more than two fellow-mortals, 
 living separate and apart in the world, and 
 unknown to each other. But she is the very 
 one of whom I've dreamed sometimes. In- 
 deed, it seems as if I must have seen her 
 before; but that can't be. I know I never 
 have, and yet there's a look about her, that 
 she gave me for a single instant, which seemed 
 as familiar as my mother's smile. And how 
 handsome she was ! how perfectly lovely ! If 
 I could have all the women in the world to
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 61 
 
 choose a wife from, I know, though I've had 
 but one look at her, that she's the one I'd 
 pick out. But it never can be. It's a great 
 misfortune to me too; for though I may be 
 happy without her working for mother and 
 Ellen and trying to make them happy yet 
 I'm sure I can never be so completely, per- 
 fectly happy as I might have been, if fate 
 had ordered it otherwise. However, it's a 
 man's duty to bear the misfortunes that fall 
 to his lot, and it would be folly to fret and 
 repine at this, when it isn't going to change 
 anything or do the least good." 
 
 Having come to this wise conclusion, our 
 hero gave a fluttering, sobbing sigh of intense 
 regret, that seemed to come from the very 
 bottom of ]jjp heart, and which he was fain 
 to disguise by a shiver, as if he were a-cold ; 
 and then, buttoning his coarse blanket over- 
 coat closely to his throat, he rubbed his hands, 
 settled himself in his seat, and tried to look 
 forward at the road, and at the future before 
 him, with a cheerful face and spirit. Never- 
 theless, there was perceptible to his mental 
 
 vision a rose-tint in the dull, gray canopy of 
 6
 
 62 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 mist that overhung the distant city, that he 
 failed to discern among the resplendent hues 
 of dawn with which the eastern sky was all 
 aglow. 
 
 I heartily despise all claptrap, especially of 
 that sort which can be easily detected and 
 seen through, and the reader will bear me 
 witness that the purpose for which the narra- 
 tive set forth in the present chapter has been 
 related, was formally and frankly avowed at 
 the very beginning. I hope, therefore, that 
 I shall not be unjustly suspected of a shallow 
 attempt to surprise the reader by what is 
 to appear in the conclusion. 
 
 Some six weeks had elapsed since the arri- 
 val of the widow Dashleigh and her children 
 at Walbury. In the mean time,^.ndrew and 
 his rejoicing helpmeet had entered and pos- 
 sessed themselves of that promised land from 
 which the unfortunate Canaanite, Jim Sparks, 
 had been ejected, and the widow had been 
 established in the little cottage over the way. 
 John had sustained, in a most satisfactory 
 manner, an examination touching his qualifica- 
 tions as a farmer, and had been duly installed
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 63 
 
 into office as the headman and overseer upon 
 the farm. His method of providing bean-poles 
 for the kitchen garden Toy saving suitable 
 sticks for that purpose from the woodpile, 
 and laying them by, from time to time, as 
 they came to hand during the course of chop- 
 ping the supply of fuel for the summer's fire 
 was found to be in accordance with the 
 Colonel's own thrifty custom. The stained 
 snow-banks remaining on the shady side of 
 stone walls and fences, had dwindled day by 
 day in the sun, and had finally vanished from 
 the sight. The Niptuck had celebrated its 
 emancipation from the stern and icy bonds 
 of winter, by a saturnalian freshet, and then 
 returned quietly to its accustomed channel. 
 Where the shallow pools, left in the hollows 
 by the retiring flood, had shrunk and dried 
 away, the springing herbage had grown more 
 rapidly than elsewhere ; though over all the 
 surface of the intervale meadows, the grass had 
 spread its mantle of brilliant green, spangled 
 with dandelions and early wild flowers. The 
 drooping willows on the river banks had put 
 forth, first of all the trees, their slender, sil-
 
 04 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 very leaves, and strewn the ground beneath 
 them with down as light as gossamer. The 
 alders and osiers had hung out their tasseled 
 catkins, and the birchen woods, first attiring 
 their white limbs in the rusty-looking suits 
 of ruddy swelling buds with which they are 
 wont to be clothed in the early spring, had 
 suddenly changed them for a more comely 
 apparel, composed of tender, glossy green 
 leaves, that, for ever quivering, even in the 
 faintest breeze, reveal their delicate silver 
 linings to the sun. In the moist lowlands, 
 and by the brooksides, the woolly-headed polly- 
 pods had feathered out into fragrant brakes, 
 and the bright-eyed blossoms of the cowslip 
 shone out like stars from among its dark green 
 leaves. The frogs, awakened from their long 
 winter's slumber, had at first tried their voices 
 each for himself, croaking hoarsely, and start- 
 ling the lonely traveler at night, with strange, 
 uncouth, guttural noises, and fearful mutter- 
 ings; but now they had learned once more 
 to sing in chorus, and filled the misty evening 
 air with shrill and piercing cries, that smote 
 upon the ear like the confused jangling of
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 65 
 
 millions of sharp-toned sleigh-bells. The white 
 blossoms of the swamp-willow had given the 
 welcome token of the approach and advent 
 of that mighty host of fat and luscious shad, 
 which annually invades the coasts and rivers 
 of Connecticut, and leave the bones of myriads 
 of their number upon the trenchers of the 
 people of the land. The fattening calves were 
 left the sole tenants of the deserted stables, 
 while their mammas, the kine, went forth 
 once more to revisit their summer pastures 
 in the huckleberry swamps and on the hill- 
 sides, and their uncles, the patient oxen, with 
 lolling tongues, toiled in the fields hard by. 
 The hollow spaces of the empty barns re- 
 sounded all the mornings with clamorous cack- 
 lings of triumphant pullets, and in snug cor- 
 ners of the mangers, and sly nooks and bur- 
 rowings in the shrunken hay-mow, the setting 
 hens brooded upon their hoards of eggs, and 
 winked and dozed in quiet through the period 
 of incubation, secure from all disturbance. 
 The governor and council and the representa- 
 tives of the people of Connecticut, in general
 
 66 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 court assembled, had convened at Hartford 
 for the purpose of devouring dragon oysters 
 and fresh shad, and enacting laws for the 
 public weal. Colonel Manners, having signi- 
 fied his will to continue in the service of the 
 State, to his fellows of the little clique of 
 village magnates that controlled the political 
 affairs of the town, and having been, of course, 
 elected, as usual, one of the members for the 
 ancient town of Walbury, had gone up with 
 his wife, in a one-horse chaise, to the capital, 
 from whence, at the end of the election week, 
 Mrs. Manners intended to return home, bring- 
 ing with her Lucy, her daughter ; that young 
 lady having finished her education at the 
 Misses Primber's seminary, and drank to the 
 very dregs of that celebrated fountain of useful 
 knowledge. In a word, it was a warm, bright, 
 sunshiny day near the middle of the delightful 
 month of May, and John Dashleigh and his 
 mother, who had been left joint regents of 
 the Manners' homestead, were awaiting the 
 return of the mistress and heiress apparent 
 of the little realm.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 67 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the afternoon 
 when John who was at work pruning in the 
 top of the great pear-tree which stood by the 
 garden gate, across the lane from the south 
 porch saw in the distance the hood-top of a 
 carriage, which was coming up to the further 
 side of the little hill in the Hartford road. Pres- 
 ently a horse's head bobbed up in the middle 
 of the path, and at length both horse and car- 
 riage came into full view, upon the summit of 
 the acclivity, and proved to be Old Bob and 
 the expected chaise. The vehicle contained 
 two ladies, as John could plainly see. So, ac- 
 cording to previous arrangement, he called 
 to his mother, who sat knitting in the porch, 
 to tell her that the chaise was in sight and to 
 put the tea-kettle over, and then prepared to 
 descend from his perch. But while he was 
 putting his tools into the basket, and lowering 
 it to the ground by means of a cord attached 
 to its handle, the chaise had reached the mouth 
 of the lane. As Old Bob came trotting briskly 
 up the drive towards the house, John glanced 
 downwards with eager curiosity to catch a
 
 68 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 sight of his old play-fellow and cousin Lucy, 
 and came within an ace of tumbling headlong 
 after his tool-basket, when he beheld, seated by 
 the side of his aunt Betsy, the charming young 
 girl wb'/m he had seen in the street at Hart- 
 ford!
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE chaise stopped at the stepping-stones of 
 the south porch, and in a twinkling, Lucy 
 Manners, (for she it was that sat with Mrs. 
 Manners,) jumped out with one bound, not 
 minding the steps at all, and, running up to the 
 widow Dashleigh, who stood in the porch, with 
 little Ellen standing bashfully almost behind 
 her, she embraced them both with great ardor, 
 kissing them two or three times apiece, and cry- 
 ing out that she knew they were her dear aunt 
 Polly, and her darling little cousin Nelly, and 
 then she stooped and hugged Boatswain, the 
 big watch-dog, about his neck, and, I believe, 
 kissed him too. After that she stamped her 
 pretty feet several times, and shook the dust 
 from her skirts, holding them out wide-spread 
 in front, and slightly stooping, looked first at 
 the toe of one of her slim gaiter boots, and then 
 at the other, as she raised them alternately 
 displaying no inconsiderable portion of her taper 
 ankles ; and finally, this position being, I sup-
 
 t 
 
 70 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 pose, suggestive of dancing, she took two or 
 three steps on the porch floor, and declared, to 
 the air of the Soldier's Joy, that she was never 
 so happy before in all the days of her life, and 
 that, during the remainder of her existence upon 
 this planet, she intended to do just as she pleased, 
 and never to look in any book whatsoever, unless 
 it should be a romance or book of poems ; and 
 in. conclusion she appealed to the dog to say 
 whether he would not himself be of like mind 
 under similar circumstances ; whereto Bose 
 straightway replied with three short, emphatic, 
 affirmative barks, and signified his hearty ap- 
 proval of his young mistress' opinions by thump- 
 ing applause on the door-step with his tail. 
 
 Meanwhile John, recovering from a stupor of 
 astonishment and delight, had been peeping, 
 through the lofty covert of leaves and blossoms 
 in which he was hidden, at Lucy's graceful 
 frolics and vivacious extravagances. He did 
 not fail to mark the elegance of her figure, and 
 took especial note of the tapering symmetry of 
 her ankles. The tones of her voice, singing, 
 laughing, and talking, all in a breath, seemed 
 to his enraptured ears far sweeter music than
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 71 
 
 the melodious thrills and quavers of a bob-a- 
 link, warbling in the meadow hard by ; and 
 
 her face if it had appeared lovely when 
 
 he had seen it six weeks before in Hartford, 
 with every feature striving to assume as prim 
 and demure an expression as might be, now 
 that it was all aglow with delight, pleasure, 
 and excitement, it was so bewilderingly beau- 
 tiful that it fairly dazzled him ! Heavens ! 
 what a change had come to pass within the 
 last few minutes. It was less than an hour 
 since, in spite of himself, he had been thinking 
 pensively of the beautiful unknown, wondering 
 who and where she might be, and what she 
 might then happen to be doing or saying, and 
 then, rousing from a reverie, murmuring to 
 himself that he must forget her, and there was 
 no use in being a fool ; that she was far above 
 him, moving in a higher and distant sphere, 
 and that he should never see her again in the 
 world ; but that, of course, some time she would 
 marry some rich and splendid nobleman; at 
 which last-mentioned fancy, his heart, in spite 
 of himself, would seem to die within him, poor 
 fellow, and a great lump would rise in his
 
 72 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 throat that couldn't well be swallowed again 
 without tears to moisten it and now why ! 
 here she was, his own cousin, Lucy Manners, 
 with whom, when they were both little chil- 
 dren, he had played a thousand times j who 
 had written home from Hartford that she re- 
 membered cousin John Dashleigh, and about 
 his going away, and had sent him her love 
 and a kiss for the sake of old times ! His heart 
 leaped to his throat, as after five minutes' effort 
 he fairly comprehended the truth and its ex- 
 tent, and possible consequences. What a plea- 
 sant world it was ! he thought. How bright 
 seemed the future that but just now had ap- 
 peared so dreary ! Though the limb of the 
 pear-tree on which John sat w T as less than a 
 score of feet above the earth, he seemed to be 
 more than half way to heaven ! Now, the 
 reason was apparent why it was that he 
 had been so suddenly and irresistibly attracted 
 by the sweet face of his cousin, and why her 
 image had seemed so strangely familiar to him, 
 that he had been used to wonder whether it 
 were not true, that, in some previous state of 
 existence, the soul of the beautiful stranger and
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 73 
 
 his own spirit had known and dearly loved each 
 other. 
 
 "But where on earth's John!" at length 
 asked Mrs. Manners, looking about her. " I 
 expected he'd be the first one to meet us, and 
 somebody ought to untackle Old Bob, and turn 
 him into the pastur." 
 
 " To be sure," cried Lucy, who had been 
 kissing Susan Peet, the kitchen help, a former 
 class-mate of hers at the district school. " Sure 
 enough, where is cousin John ? I long to kiss 
 him!" 
 
 Gracious Goodness ! How John, in the top 
 of the pear-tree, blushed, till the white blos- 
 soms nearest to his face turned rosy red in the 
 reflection. 
 
 " Why !" said the widow, "I wonder where 
 he's gone to ! He knows you're come, for he 
 was in the garden just now, and hallooed to me 
 that you had come in sight." 
 
 " In the garden ? Let's go and find him," 
 cried Lucy, putting her arm round Ellen's 
 waist. 
 
 As the two girls came running across the 
 lane towards the garden gate, John once more
 
 74 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 prepared to descend, but in so doing he did not 
 have the luck of Zaccheus of old ; for, placing 
 his hand upon a branch of the tree, by which 
 to swing himself down, he happened to clasp, 
 not only the branch itself, but also a blossom 
 containing a wasp. The insect, feeling the 
 fatal pressure had time, before it was crushed 
 to death, to dart its venomous sting ; at which 
 John, with an involuntary cry of pain, unloos- 
 ened his grasp, and the slight twig by which 
 he held with his other hand not being able to 
 bear his weight, down he came through the 
 cracking branches, plump upon the greensward 
 at Lucy's feet, just as she opened the garden 
 wicket! Lucy screamed, as well she might, 
 for it's a somewhat startling thing for a young 
 maiden to behold a strange man, of twelve 
 stone weight, drop into her path from the clouds. 
 Ellen, though sorely scared, hastened to assist 
 her prostrate brother, as soon as ever he came 
 to the ground, while Boatswain, who evidently 
 jumped at once to the conclusion that John 
 Dashleigh was some wild beast, like a panther 
 to his shame be it spoken put his tail be- 
 tween his legs, yelped, and fled amain. The
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 75 
 
 three women in the porch uttered loud exclama- 
 tions of alarm, and Old Bob, frightened out of 
 his wonted propriety, by the loud snapping and 
 rustling of the breaking boughs and the uproar 
 that followed, started and ran into the back 
 yard, where, after a circuit about the well, he 
 finally brought up against the leach-hogshead 
 and overset the chaise upon the wood-pile. 
 And all these terrors and mishaps were caused 
 by the tiny sting of an insignificant little wasp, 
 not half so large as the point of the finest 
 cambric needle, just as it often happens 
 that the >liiii and supple tongue of some 
 gossiping old maid w r ill set a neighborhood by 
 the ears, a 1 create commotions, heart-burn- 
 ings, and disturbances, throughout a whole 
 village. 
 
 John, though a little shaken by his fall, was 
 not otherwise injured, and, indeed, was far more 
 alai (1 at the terror depicted in Lucy's pale 
 face than he had been at the accident which 
 can ><''! it. He feared that she was going to 
 faint, and bounding up from the ground, and 
 putting Ellen aside hastily, he ran to his cousin 
 as she was tottering towards the fence, clasped
 
 76 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 her round the waist, and cried out lustily for 
 somebody to bring water. 
 
 "Why who who are you?" cried Lucy, 
 struggling a little. " It's John, Lucyj" said 
 Ellen. " He won't hurt you." " Oh-ho !" 
 cried Lucy, as naturally as could be, which 
 John took to be an expression of pain or faint- 
 ness. " Get some water, Ellen," said he. 
 "No, no; cousin John," cried Lucy, shaking 
 her curls, " I don't need any water and and 
 let me go, sir or why don't you kiss me, 
 cousin John ?" 
 
 It was no mere cousinly kiss that John, not 
 having time to grow bashful, at once pressed 
 upon Lucy's saucy lips ; and though she had 
 never been kissed in that fervent manner be- 
 fore, she felt instinctively that it was the pas- 
 sion of a lover which made that first kiss such 
 a long, ardent, clinging caress. She struggled 
 feebly, and though she had been pale a minute 
 before, she was rosy enough I warrant you, 
 when, as John released her, she looked into 
 his glittering eyes, and recognised the hand- 
 some face of the tall young backwoodsman 
 that she had seen in the street at Hartford,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 77 
 
 whom the other girls had thought so good- 
 looking, and talked about so much, calling him 
 by various names and titles, as " Robin Hood," 
 and "The Handsome Forester," and who she 
 had guessed at the time had been so smitten 
 by her beauty. 
 
 I don't know but that John would have kept 
 on kissing his pretty cousin until this time, if 
 it had not been for the remonstrances of Ellen, 
 who protested, with great vivacity, against the 
 prolonged duration of the salute. As for Lucy 
 herself, I must confess that she did not offer a 
 word by way of rebuke or expostulation, for 
 the reason as she afterwards privately explain- 
 ed to Ellen and Susan that she could not get 
 breath to do so : the which still further illus- 
 trates the length and vehemence of John Dash- 
 leigh's kiss. But just as he came to his senses 
 again, his mother, Mrs. Manners, and Susan ar- 
 rived, all together, at the garden gate, bringing, 
 the one a camphor bottle, another a vial of 
 hartshorn, and the third a basin of water. The 
 three were accompanied by Boatswain, who 
 had perceived from afar John's assault upon 
 the person of Lucy, and who immediately laid
 
 78 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 hold of the hinder portion of the offender's pan- 
 taloons, and tugged away with great apparent 
 fierceness, no doubt hoping thereby to retrieve 
 his reputation for fidelity and courage, which 
 had, to be sure, suffered greatly by his recent 
 sudden retreat. 
 
 " Who's hurt ?" cried Mrs. Manners, looking 
 about her. 
 
 " Get out, Bose !" said Susan, observing 
 John's inattention to the attack in his rear. 
 "Law! kick him, John ! he'll tear your irow- 
 ses all to rags !" 
 
 Poor widow Dashleigh glanced at the flushed 
 faces of her son and niece, and felt ready to 
 sink into the ground ; fearing that John might 
 have offended the heiress by the strange rude- 
 ness of which she had witnessed a part. "For 
 shame, John !" said she; "you musn't think 
 young ladies in New England like to be kissed 
 and touzled about like the backwoods girls at a 
 huskin' !" 
 
 " Pooh! pooh ! Polly ;" cried Mrs. Manners, 
 corking up the camphor bottle again, and smiling 
 with a shrewd expression ; " girls are very much 
 the same wherever you find 'em. Besides, John
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 79 
 
 and Lucy are cousins, and hain't seen each 
 other since they were children." 
 
 " That's true," said the widow, much re- 
 lieved. 
 
 " Kiss her again, John !" said Mrs. Man- 
 ners. 
 
 " Thank you, no :" cried Lucy, stepping 
 back. 
 
 " Come, sister Polly," said Mrs. Manners, 
 with the same shrewd smile. " There's been 
 more scare than harm done, I guess. Let's 
 leave 'em to make up, and do you, John, as 
 soon as you can, come and look after old Bob 
 and the shay." 
 
 " Massy sakes !" cried Susan, when the two 
 elder ladies had departed. " I expected to find 
 somebody e'enamost dead." 
 
 "Humph! I am nearly smothered!" said 
 Lucy, pouting, and arranging her disordered 
 collar and bonnet. " You must have learned 
 to kiss from the bears and Indians in the Gene- 
 see country, cousin John. Indeed, sir, I never 
 saw such a rude fellow." 
 
 At this speech, and the look of feigned dis- 
 pleasure which accompanied it, John, who,
 
 80 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 whatever he might have been taught in the 
 Genesee country with respect to the manner 
 of kissing, had had but few opportunities to 
 learn there all the ways of women ; John, I 
 say, was so extremely disconcerted, and dis- 
 comfited, and experienced such shame and 
 distress, that his countenance, which was 
 always a truthful index of his thoughts, be- 
 trayed plainly the anguish of his soul ; so 
 that Lucy could not help feeling a violent pity 
 for him. 
 
 " Well, well, cousin John," said she, in the 
 kindest tone, and smiling as she extended her 
 hand ; " there's no harm done, after all, unless 
 you've broken your neck tumbling out of the 
 pear-tree." 
 
 John humbly took the little white hand that 
 was held out to him, and shook it awkwardly 
 but did not dare to kiss it, as Lucy supposed 
 he would. Indeed, it didn't come into his 
 head to do so, for he had been taught, with re- 
 spect to the matter of kissing, to proceed at 
 once to the cheeks and lips, according to the 
 rude fashion prevailing at that time in the 
 Genesee country. However, Lucy, the little
 
 TWICE MAKRIED. 81 
 
 witch, knew as well as that she was a beauty, 
 that her tall, well-favored cousin was her lover 
 and, as big as he was, the slave of her merest 
 whim and caprice. Even gentle little Ellen, 
 standing by, wonderingly guessed the truth, 
 and blushed at her thoughts ; while Susan Peet, 
 whose suspicions, new-born as they were, had 
 suddenly matured into firm convictions, smiled, 
 mischievously ; though, at the same time, she 
 smothered a faint pang of regret at the destruc- 
 tion of a vague hope, which, till then, she had 
 not discovered was alive in her heart. " I ain't 
 wanted no more," said she, rather plaintively ; 
 " so I'll go, I believe. But, John," she added, 
 as she opened the garden gate, " you'd better 
 come pretty soon, for Old Bob's tipped the 
 shay over onto the wood-pile, and upsot it, and 
 Miss Manners and Miss Dashleigh are tryin' to 
 onhitch hi .:." 
 
 At hearing of this disaster, John hastily in- 
 quired of his cousin whether she felt strong 
 enough to walk to the house with Ellen's as- 
 sistance ; and upon being assured by Lucy of 
 her ability to walk without any aid whatever, 
 he repaired to the back-yard, where he found his
 
 82 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 mother, Mrs. Manners, and Susan, endeavoring 
 to extricate Old Bob from the shafts of the un- 
 fortunate chaise, which lay on its beam ends 
 upon the wood-pile. The performance of this 
 task he forthwith took upon himself, and the 
 women retired into the house. Having unhar- 
 nessed the horse and turned him into the lane 
 to roll, righted the chaise and run it under 
 the shed, he unstrapped Lucy's trunk and car- 
 ried it into the hall; though, by this time, his 
 hand began to smart and swell. However, 
 when he saw Lucy's face in a halo of bright 
 curls, as she stooped over the banisters of the 
 staircase, and heard her thank him for a dear, 
 good, cousin John, and ask if he wouldn't please 
 bring the trunk up into her room, he forgot all 
 about the pain, and rejecting Susan's proffers 
 of assistance, he mounted the stairs with his 
 burden, which he would have set down at the 
 door of Lucy's room ; for he was too modest to 
 enter that sacred apartment without further in- 
 vitation ; but Lucy came and held open the 
 door, smiling so pleasantly all the while, and 
 so he passed in by her, and finally, at her di- 
 rection, placed the trunk at the foot of the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 83 
 
 little white bed. Then he took off his hat and 
 went out, on tiptoe, without saying a word, 
 for there was an atmosphere of purity and in- 
 nocence in the place that it seemed to him 
 \vould be disturbed by the sound of his voice. 
 When he got down into the kitchen again, 
 Susan bathed his hands in hartshorn, and told 
 him to hurry and get ready for tea. So he 
 went over to his mother's house across the way, 
 washed his face and hands, combed his hair, 
 and put on his coat, and then returned to the 
 big house, where, as soon as he made his ap- 
 pearance, everybody sat down to the tea-table, 
 and fell a-talking of old times, and how he and 
 Lucy and Ellen had grown. 
 
 During this time his thoughts were in such a 
 state of confusion that it would be difficult to 
 give any account of them, except that, it is safe 
 to say, his cousin Lucy was never once out of 
 his mind. And when he found himself sitting 
 at the table right opposite to her, I verily be- 
 lieve that, if the liquid in his cup had been a 
 strong decoction of mayweed and thorough wort, 
 sweetened with molasses, instead of being, as 
 in fact it was, an infusion of fragrant young
 
 84 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 hyson, mingled with rich cream and with a 
 lump of loaf sugar dissolved in it, John would 
 never have perceived the difference ; albeit, 
 herb-drink, from his boyhood, had been a 
 beverage most distasteful to his palate. 
 
 " Cecil, a coxcomb," I think it was who was 
 cured of his fancy for a handsome German 
 lady, by beholding her devour sour-krout, car- 
 rying the morsels to her pretty lips with a 
 steel knife-blade blackened with vinegar. And 
 there are many over-nice gentlemen whom I 
 have heard to aver, that to see a lady eat, has 
 at all times a potent disenchanting influence. 
 It dissolves the charm, they say, to be obliged 
 thus to take actual notice that these delicate 
 creatures, as Othello calls them, have their 
 appetites, and live by consuming bread and 
 meat, and by the excercise of physical func- 
 tions common to man and other lower animals. 
 But, I warrant you, if any of these squeamish 
 gentlemen had seen Lucy Manners at the tea- 
 table that afternoon, though she ate with a 
 traveler's appetite, he would have longed, as 
 John in fact did, to be transformed into a 
 biscuit, a doughnut, a slice of loaf-cake, or
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 85 
 
 even a pickled cucumber, so that he might 
 have stood a chance of touching her rosy lips, 
 and of being pressed by the little pearly teeth 
 that showed themselves between them. Be 
 that as it may, I can say of John Dashleigh, 
 that his admiration, instead of being dimin- 
 ished, was sensibly augmented and hightened 
 by witnessing the spectacle before him, and 
 his love waxed more violent during each 
 moment of the repast. 
 
 When it suddenly occurred to him that the 
 tea-cup, which for the occasion was appro- 
 priated to his particular use, had, doubtless, 
 before that time, been hallowed by the con- 
 tact of Lucy's lips, he carefully drank from 
 each segment of the rim, so that no portion of 
 the consecrated surface should escape his touch. 
 Inspired by a similar idea, he bestowed num- 
 berless kisses upon the bowl of his teaspoon, 
 and the tines of his unconscious fork. Thus 
 he drank in love, as it were, with each draught 
 of tea, and, whereas, by reason of the expedi- 
 ents which I have mentioned, he neglected 
 the solids of the meal, but imbibed a most 
 
 unusual quantity, it will be readily believed 
 
 8
 
 86 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 that when at last he rose from the table, with 
 the perspiration starting from every pore in 
 his face, he was, like Solomon of old, full of 
 love. 
 
 After tea, the laborers came in from the 
 fields to their supper, and the boys drove the 
 cows in from pasture. John took his pail and 
 went out to the barn-yard, but no sooner had 
 he seated himself on a three-legged stool 
 beside a stately red cow, and the streams of 
 milk had begun to patter upon the bottom 
 of the pail, than Lucy and Ellen appeared at 
 the gate, and came tripping towards him, 
 holding their frocks so high that John, who, 
 though one of the most modest young men in 
 the world as I have said before was, after 
 all, no hermit, could not help again observing 
 the fashion of Lucy's dainty ankles. 
 
 The red cow pricked up her ears, stopped 
 chewing her cud, and gazed steadfastly at the 
 unwonted visitors. 
 
 " So, so, boss !" said John soothingly. " Stand 
 still, now." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! that's Cherry ! " cried Lucy ; 
 Cherry, my own heifer, that I taught to drink
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 87 
 
 out of a pail when she was a little speck of a 
 calf! I've helped to milk her many a time. 
 Let me try now, cousin John, to see whether 
 I've forgotten how !" 
 
 " I wouldn't, Lucy, you'll spoil your nice 
 dress;" remarked prudent little Ellen. 
 
 "And soil your hands," added John, looking 
 at Lucy's white taper fingers, sparkling, like 
 every school girl's just returned home, with 
 many keepsake rings ; and as Cherry herself 
 remonstrated with an angry toss of the head 
 and a start forward that came near upsetting 
 the milk-pail, Lucy was forced to relinquish 
 the attempt. So she contented herself with 
 looking on, standing with Ellen as near to 
 John as Cherry would permit, and talking 
 with him while he continued his task. 
 
 " Cherry is like all the rest of the world," 
 said Lucy, pouting in the most bewitching 
 manner. She forgets her friends after a little 
 time of absence." 
 
 " They've only just taken away her calf," 
 said Ellen, "and it makes her cross, poor 
 thing." 
 
 "She is usually very gentle," added John.
 
 88 TWICE MA11RIED. 
 
 "She is my own heifer," said Lucy. "She 
 was born on my birth-day, six years ago, and 
 papa gave her to me for my own." 
 
 Ellen thought this circumstance a most 
 wonderful matter, and John was conscious of 
 an increased esteem for his favorite cow. 
 
 "When I am married, papa says I am to 
 have Cherry as a part of my setting out," said 
 Lucy ; at which remark John's hand trembled 
 so that he milked all over his knees. 
 
 "Maybe Cherry will be a very old cow by 
 that time," said Ellen. 
 
 "Oh, no! I fear not," replied Lucy with a 
 rueful laugh, (if one may say so). "Dear me! 
 Don't you think papa told me the other day, 
 that I am to be married next Thanksgiving day !" 
 
 "To Joab Sweeny, I suppose?" said Ellen, 
 while John held his breath and tightened his 
 gripe on Cherry's teats. 
 
 " Yes, to cousin Joab," replied Lucy, with a 
 shrug and grimace. " It's been a settled 
 thing, you know, for ever so many years; 
 and papa is set upon it. But, just to think of 
 it to marry my cousin! It's just as if I 
 should marry you, John !"
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 89 
 
 John thought he could perceive a distinc- 
 tion, not without a difference, between the two 
 cases ; but held his peace and kept on milking. 
 
 "I wouldn't marry Joab Sweeny for a thou- 
 sand dollars," remarked Ellen; "no, not for 
 the whole world!" she added in a positive 
 tone, after a pause. 
 
 " Hush ! Nelly !" murmured poor John. 
 
 "And I am sure," cried Lucy, passionately, 
 as she remembered, with a shudder, the odious, 
 leering simper with which Joab had uttered 
 his gallant speech, on the occasion of Andrew's 
 wedding; "and I am sure I wouldn't if I could 
 hlep myself. God knows I don't wish to marry 
 him, for I hate him as I do a snake. And 
 mamma, too I truly believe she would be 
 glad if the match could be broken off without 
 making papa outrageous. She never liked 
 Aunt Axy, nor Joab either; and what papa 
 sees to like in him is more than I can tell. 
 Cousin John ! I'll take back what I said. Mar- 
 rying Joab would not be like marrying you. 
 I'd rather have you a thousand times!" she 
 added, impetuously, at which John looked up 
 from his pail for an instant, and Lucy's flash-
 
 90 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 ing eyes fell as they met his glance, and the 
 glow of excitement on her cheek deepened 
 into a crimson blush. 
 
 At this moment, Susan appeared at the 
 gate, and delivered a message from the ma- 
 trons in the house, admonishing the young 
 ladies of the lateness of the hour, and that the 
 dew was beginning to fall. So Lucy bade 
 John good-night, and gave Cherry a timid pat 
 on the side, which the ungrateful brute resent- 
 ed with a whisk of her tail that knocked 
 John's hat over his eyes, and effectually pre- 
 vented his watching Lucy's retreat as she ran 
 laughing towards the gate. 
 
 The most trivial circumstance sometimes has 
 a momentous influence upon the destinies of 
 men and of nations. I cannot stop here to 
 cite instances of this truth; and, indeed, it 
 would be needless, for everybody knows that 
 it is so. Now, if it had not been for the un- 
 tying of the knot of Susan's garter, I verily 
 believe that Lucy Manners would have been 
 to-day Mrs. Deacon Joab Sweeny the III. 
 For, as Susan was crossing the yard, while on 
 her way to do the errand wherewith she was
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 91 
 
 charged, she suddenly felt her garter slip. So, 
 first having glanced quickly about in every 
 direction, lest some of the men might be with- 
 in eye-shot, she stooped, and modestly lifting 
 her skirts, tightened the piece of listing that 
 encircled her plump and shapely limb, and 
 went upon her way. But the brief delay 
 caused by this lucky accident gave Lucy time 
 to reply to Ellen, as is hereinbefore set forth. 
 If that reply had never been uttered, or if 
 Lucy and John had not exchanged glances in 
 the way I have just described but I must 
 not anticipate. I fear I shall never learn to 
 tell a story according to the rules of the art. 
 
 When, that night, John went up into his 
 little chamber in the attic of the widow's gable- 
 roofed cottage, there was not, I am very sure, 
 in any one of the United States of America, 
 a young man more thoroughly in love than 
 he. Though he was a plain, unsophisticated 
 young farmer, bred in the wilds of the Genesee 
 country, and unaccustomed to read novels and 
 romances, or the poetry of my Lord Byron, I 
 dare take it upon myself to say that, through- 
 out the length and breadth of the Republic,
 
 92 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 there was not a dry-goods clerk or eke a col- 
 lege student more intensely or heartily in love. 
 Instead, therefore, of going straight to bed, as 
 was his habit at this busy season of the year, 
 or, as was sometimes his wont when not too 
 weary with the toils of the day sitting down 
 by the side of his table to read awhile until 
 he grew sleepy, he at once blew out his light, 
 drew the curtain of his narrow, eight-paned, 
 dormer window, and seated himself beside it, 
 on the foot of his humble bed. For awhile, 
 the tumult of his thoughts was too violent to 
 permit reflection. The blissful consciousness 
 of being so entirely in love filled his soul com- 
 pletely. The accustomed sway of reason was 
 suspended. Once only in a lifetime does the 
 lover experience the delicious emotions with 
 which John Dashleigh was overwhelmed. 
 After the first passionate ecstasy of new-born 
 love,- come doubts, and fears, and jealousies. 
 The luster of the new life becomes dimmed 
 like the brightness of metal. Once only in a 
 man's life, then, is he completely happy, happy 
 without alloy, when, forgetting the fear of 
 misfortune, pain and disease, and the ever-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 93 
 
 present dread of death, he remembers only 
 that the world contains the beloved one, and 
 so is better and brighter than even the abodes 
 of the angels. 
 
 John's nerves had not yet ceased to thrill 
 with the rapture of Lucy's kiss, and once he 
 was at the pains even to relight his candle, 
 and go to the little looking-glass that hung 
 against the chimney, where he gazed for the 
 space of five minutes at the reflection of his 
 own lips, which, that day, had met those of 
 his cousin Lucy in that memorable salute. 
 Then he again put out his candle and resumed 
 his post at the window. There was a light in 
 one of the chambers of the big house over the 
 way. It shone in Lucy's room, and on the 
 muslin curtains of the window he could per- 
 ceive the shadow of a slight form, which some- 
 times seemed to move about the room, and 
 then anon, for awhile, would stand at rest. 
 He could even guess, with great precision, 
 what, from time to time, Lucy was doing. 
 Now he felt convinced that she was standing 
 at the mirror, arranging her hair. After that,
 
 94 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 it was evident that she was tying on her 
 night-cap. Presently, she came to the win- 
 dow, and, drawing the curtain a little to one 
 side, peeped out, while, John, watching in- 
 tently, forgot even to breathe, and came very 
 near breaking a pane of glass with his nose. 
 Then, careless girl, she went into her closet 
 with the candle, as the glimmer through the 
 curtain testified. If she should drop a spark 
 there, and in the dead hours of the night the 
 house should burst forth in flames, John 
 thought how he would rush through the blaz- 
 ing windows, and bear the dear incendiary 
 forth in safety, or perish with her in his arms. 
 Then, for a brief space, the light burned steadi- 
 ly upon the table, and the shadow did not fall 
 upon the curtain. Lucy was, doubtless, kneel- 
 ing at her prayers. At last, she rose, peeped 
 once more from the window, so that John was 
 sure he caught a glimpse of one cheek, and 
 the ruffle of her night-cap, and the next 
 moment all was dark. 
 
 It was a warm and balmy spring night. The 
 gentle breeze, laden with the fragrance of lilac
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 95 
 
 shrubs and blossoming orchards, seemed like 
 the very breath of May, as it stirred the leaves 
 of the big buttonwoods with a quiet, whisper- 
 ing rustle. The frogs in the river piped a 
 melodious treble, and the roar of the mill-dam 
 in the gorge came down upon the wind, 
 softened to a deep undertone of harmonious 
 bass. The plaintive notes of a whip-poor- 
 will sounded faintly in the distance. There 
 was a soft glow in the sky beyond the 
 eastern hills, that announced the rising of the 
 moon. 
 
 John was not insensible to the gentle influ- 
 ence of the time. The fever of his excitement 
 abated. He was able to think with compara- 
 tive calmness, to reason with himself concern- 
 ing the state of his feelings, and to form 
 resolutions and plans with respect to his future 
 conduct. It was a grave question that he 
 presently put to himself; and three long mid- 
 night hours did he give to it his consideration. 
 Seated upon the foot of his bed, with the moon- 
 light streaming in on his pale face, he pon- 
 dered whether it was his duty to crush the
 
 96 TWICB MARRIED. 
 
 sweet hopes that so lately had sprang up in 
 his heart, and with them crush the heart in 
 which they grew withal. 
 
 Easy as it may seem to write or to read 
 about it, this was, nevertheless, a stern and 
 terrible trial, for the result was at times very 
 doubtful, and upon that result, John knew, 
 depended his hopes of earthly happiness. Had 
 his conscience, sitting in judgment, decided 
 against his inclination, the decree would have 
 been executed. 
 
 The conclusion to which he at last arrived, 
 as the stroke of one, from Walbury steeple, 
 came vibrating through the silent air, he ex- 
 pressed aloud. "If she loved him," said he, 
 "or even regarded him with indifference, I 
 wouldn't try to thwart the will of my good, 
 kind uncle, in the matter of his long cherished 
 plan. I would tell him all ; leave my mother 
 and sister to his care ; and never return until I 
 could endure the misery of seeing Lucy the 
 wife of another man. But she does not love 
 him ; she even dislikes, hates him. And who 
 can wonder at it ? To think of her being the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 97 
 
 wife of such a fellow! She never could be 
 happy ! He hasn't heart enough to love her ; 
 and I I have loved her from childhood. When 
 I first met her in Hartford, the reason why I 
 did not know her was, that I had cherished the 
 image of her, as I had seen her last, so faith- 
 fully. But my heart knew its mistress ! Then 
 I struggled to overcome what I deemed to be 
 a hopeless passion. But now I cannot believe 
 that duty and honor require me to forego 
 the effort to win that without which I can 
 never be happy. So help me God, then, I 
 will win her if I can though I serve for her 
 fourteen years, as Jacob did for Rachel!" 
 
 Having thus settled the matter in his own 
 mind, John looked out of the window to see if 
 all was safe across the way, and then, discern- 
 ing no signs of danger, he quickly undressed 
 himself and went to bed, and in spite of his 
 passion he was fast asleep in ten minutes after- 
 wards. 
 
 So it came to pass, that the next Sunday 
 night, when young Joab Sweeny went down 
 to call upon his cousin Lucy, and to open his 
 9
 
 98 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 courting campaign, by repeating to his intend- 
 ed bride certain speeches and sayings which 
 his mother had instructed him were proper 
 and pertinent to the occasion, he had, without 
 suspecting it, a most dangerous and determined 
 rival.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE male Yankee is born into the world 
 with a latent desire in his heart to leave his 
 home and go abroad to seek a fortune. No 
 sooner is he weaned than this quality of his 
 nature begins to be developed. It grows with 
 his growth and strengthens with his strength, 
 until, at last, like the instinct of the swarming 
 bee, it irresistibly impels him to quit the 
 shelter of his native roof, and begin the world 
 on his own account, at a distance from the 
 scenes of his brief childhood. But to this, like 
 every other general rule, there are exceptions. 
 This enterprising characteristic of the Yankee 
 race is lacking in the constitution of some 
 individuals; or, at least, is so dormant, slug- 
 gish, and imperfectly developed, that its feeble 
 promptings fail to bring about the usual results. 
 Such a Yankee, of the present generation, is 
 like unto the salt that has lost its savor. 
 Possessing, usually, to a marked degree, all the
 
 100 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 evil qualities peculiar to his countrymen, as 
 well as his share of those that are- common to 
 mankind in general, yet wanting, withal, the 
 stern, untiring energy of will, and bold adven- 
 turous spirit by which the national character 
 is ennobled and distinguished, he is apt to be a 
 sneaking, small-souled fellow, whose shrewdness 
 is but petty cunning, whose religion is only a 
 slavish fear of the devil, whose piety is nothing 
 more than a hypocritical show of sanctity, 
 whose morality is a habit, begotten by the 
 caution of a cold, unimpassioned nature, fearful 
 to offend against public opinion, and whose 
 love of country is a mere cat-like attachment 
 to the spot where his eyes first blinked in the 
 light of day. 
 
 Young Joab Sweeny was a perfect specimen 
 of this narrow-minded class of home-keeping 
 Yankee youth. "While, with but few excep- 
 tions, his school-fellows had gone forth into 
 the world, to begin the battle of life among 
 strangers, he still remained a contented inhab- 
 itant of the Niptuck valley, a clerk in his 
 father's store, waiting until the worthy Deacon 
 should be, in the fullness of time, transferred
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 101 
 
 from the church militant to the church tri- 
 umphant. 
 
 He was a tall, loose-jointed, broad-faced 
 youth, with straight, black hair except where 
 he was prematurely bald a pair of thin, silky 
 whiskers ; large, bony, white hands, and two 
 long, spindling legs the cause of his great 
 stature terminating in large, unshapely feet. 
 He was narrow-shouldered, hollow-chested, and 
 stooped in his gait ; but as, in consequence of 
 the nature of his employment, his pale and 
 pimply face was not embrowned by the sun, 
 like the farmer's boys', nor his hands, like 
 theirs, hardened with toil, as he was usually 
 dressed with comparative neatness and preci- 
 sion, wore a white neck-cloth, a watch and 
 seals, a paste brooch in his shirt-bosom, and 
 rings upon his fingers, and was accustomed to 
 practice the suavities of his craft, he obtained 
 and enjoyed among the ladies of Walbury, both 
 young and old, the reputation of being an ex- 
 tremely good looking young man, of a remark- 
 ably genteel figure, and most engaging address ; 
 and there was many a pretty damsel in the 
 congregation that each Sunday assembled in
 
 102 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 the ancient meeting-house, who, in her heart, 
 envied Lucy Manners the happy fortune that 
 fate was supposed to have in store for her, as 
 the chosen bride of young Joab Sweeny. 
 
 Like almost every other clerk in a country 
 store, Joab had a marvelous taste and talent 
 for psalmody. He played the flute and bass- 
 viol with equal facility of execution as, indeed, 
 well he might, having abundant leisure for 
 practice and, moreover, sung tenor with a 
 loud, blaring voice, and that peculiar nasal 
 twang and intonation, by which godly, old- 
 fashioned New Englanders are wont to be 
 greatly edified. The possession of these ac- 
 complishments, together with the circumstance 
 of his being a wealthy deacon's son, and a 
 church-member in his own right, greatly favored 
 his success in a little intrigue, which resulted 
 in the deposition of the ancient leader of the 
 choir, and his own elevation to the post thus 
 made vacant. 
 
 At the stated semi-monthly meetings of the 
 Sewing Circle and Dorcas Society, held alter- 
 nately at the houses of the members during the 
 winter season, young Joab rarely failed to be
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 103 
 
 present, in the evening after tea. On these 
 social occasions he chiefly affected the company 
 of the numerous and influential band of elderly 
 maiden ladies, with whom he was eminently 
 popular. It was really a spectacle well worth 
 the looking at, to see this exemplary young 
 man, dressed in sober black and smooth and 
 spotless linen, with nicely combed hair and 
 carefully brushed whiskers, sitting, at such 
 times, primly upright, with knees and elbows 
 bent at right angles, his thumbs sticking up- 
 wards, holding on his arms a skein of yarn for 
 Miss Tabitha Graves to wind upon a ball, and 
 meanwhile retailing to the group of admiring 
 spinsters some piece of village scandal, selected 
 from the vast fund of gossip which his position 
 behind his father's counter enabled him to 
 accumulate, or joining, with a great, choking, 
 gurgling laugh, in the applause which his femi- 
 nine friends were wont to bestow upon every 
 sally of wit and smart speech that he essayed 
 to utter. 
 
 It is not to be marveled at that Joab, con- 
 scious of his merits, and aware of the existing
 
 104 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 treaty by which the elders had agreed upon 
 the match between himself and his cousin 
 Lucy, it is not wonderful, I say, that Joab 
 looked forward to the term of courtship, with- 
 out a doubt of its being succeeded by the 
 blissful season of the honeymoon. Indeed, as 
 he remarked to his worthy mother, it seemed 
 like a mere matter of form to court Lucy at 
 all, or even to ask her own consent. " It's all 
 a settled thing," said he, " and, what's more, I 
 and she both know it, and there ain't no rub- 
 bin' on't out. What's the use, then, in runnin' 
 up to Uncle Starr's every Sunday night a-court- 
 ing? What on earth shall we find to talk 
 about for so many evenings? You see, mother," 
 continued Joab, remembering with secret awe 
 and rage the cold, brief sentence and haughty 
 look with which Lucy had returned his greet- 
 ing ; " you see she's been gone from home so 
 long, and has grown so big and stuck up, I 
 don't feel acquainted and familiar with her as I 
 used to." 
 
 "Law," replied Mrs. Axy, "'taint needful 
 to keep a-talkin' to a gal all the time. Why,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 105 
 
 yer father, when he used to come a-courtin', 
 I've known him to set, and set, sometimes for 
 an hour together, and skurse ever open his 
 mouth, without it was to spit into the fire. 
 But, talkin' or no talkin', go you must, for how 
 would it look to be a-courtin' a gal, and not go 
 and set up a spell with her o' Sunday nights. 
 Your Uncle Starr wouldn't like it, and, besides, 
 you orter go ef for nothin' only to keep other 
 fellers away." 
 
 " Well," said Joab, " I suppose I can't do no 
 less; and then, again, I expect I must make 
 her presents once in a while. Now, I consider 
 that's downright foolish. If I wasn't sure of 
 having her, why, I shouldn't mind it so much, 
 for it would kind o' seem to be a part of the 
 expense of winning her ; but as it is, it does 
 really appear to me just like money thrown 
 away." 
 
 " Well, as for that, Joab," replied the shrewd 
 mother, "do you just mind to give her only 
 them kind of presents as will last, and be useful 
 after marriage. They'll all be your'n agin, 
 then, you know."
 
 106 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 In fine, both Joab and his mother, not with- 
 out reason, looked upon the matter of the 
 proposed marriage as something immutable, 
 and were disposed to view the usual prelimin- 
 aries of courtship in the light of tedious for- 
 malities, rendered necessary only by the force 
 of imperative custom. When, therefore, at 
 Joab's second Sunday night visit, he ventured, 
 after much bashful circumlocution, to suggest 
 to Lucy that, perhaps, it would be about as 
 well, first as last, for them to ratify the con- 
 tract already negotiated by their parents, he 
 was informed by the young lady, in a very curt 
 and decided manner, that she wished to take 
 time to consider, before promising compliance, 
 he was completely dumb-founded with angry 
 surprise and perplexity. The Deacon's wife, 
 too, when she was told of this perverse conduct 
 on the part of her niece, was, at first, almost 
 speechless with indignation ; albeit, when she 
 did find' her tongue, she made herself ample 
 amends for the temporary inability to use it. 
 "The little pert, stuck-up hussy," said she; 
 "the nasty, ugly, little trollop!" applying, if
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 107 
 
 you can believe me, these unsavory epithets to 
 our charming Lucy ; "she wants time to think 
 on't, does she ? Let her father get hum from 
 Har'ford, and we'll see? He'll make up her 
 mind for her, I guess ! He'll let her and her 
 meddlin' fool of a mother know who's master. 
 But Betsy Dashleigh needn't think she's a-goin' 
 to break up this match. She can't alwus lead 
 Starr by the nose, and this time she'll find it 
 out. Oh h h !" cried Mrs. Sweeny, shutting 
 her teeth with a strong aspiration; "how I 
 should like to give that woman a piece of my 
 mind !" 
 
 During the week which followed next after 
 this unexpected check, Colonel Manners arrived 
 at home. Shad time having gone by, and given 
 place to the haying season, the General Assem- 
 bly had finished its labors in a hurry, and had 
 adjourned without day. It was not long, I 
 warrant you, before the Colonel was informed 
 of the discouragement which Joab had received 
 in the prosecution of his suit. " Pooh ! Pooh ! 
 Axy," said he, in reply to his irate sister, 
 " you've jest got yourself into a fret for nothin'.
 
 108 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 Why, I had a talk with the gal to Har'ford, not 
 a month ago ! She knows she's a-goin' to have 
 Joab, and expects to, like a dootifui darter; 
 but don't ye see, she wants the privilege of 
 doin' and sayin' jest as ef it wa'n't all agreed 
 on. When wimmen don't have their own way, 
 they alwus like to play they do, anyhow. It's 
 nateral for her to act jest as she doos. I don't 
 blame her a mite. Joab, I hain't no doubt, 
 talked jest as ef he had a morgidge on her, and 
 could foreclose any minnit, and that kind o' 
 riled her, for she's full o' sperit, now I tell ye. 
 Jest let him keep a-goin' to see her reglar, and 
 let him act kind o' softly, and perlite, and gen- 
 teel, jest as ef he didn't know nothin' o' no 
 agreement, but depended on gettin' her willin' 
 himself, and was obliged to afore he could 
 expect to have her, and let him ask her to play 
 on her pianny-forty, and bring down his floot, 
 and play with her, and my word for't, it'll all 
 come right." 
 
 "Anyhow, you'd better speak to her, and let 
 her know there ain't no gettin' off," said the 
 Deacon's wife.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 109 
 
 " I sha'n't do no sich a thing," replied the 
 Colonel, positively. " It'll only jist make her 
 set agin it. There ain't no hurry. Let things 
 take their nateral course." 
 
 The Colonel was decided; and his sister, 
 after scolding to her heart's content, was obliged 
 to acquiesce. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 ONE fine morning, soon after the Colonel's 
 return, John Dashleigh, with a gang of hands, 
 began to mow the barn-lot, and for the next 
 four weeks the Colonel was so busy looking 
 on, while John and his men gathered in the 
 plentiful harvests of hay, rye, and oats, that he 
 had little time to give heed to the matter of 
 Joab's courtship. Each morning he was stir- 
 ring by the time that the birds began to sing, 
 and he went to bed every night as soon as he 
 had eaten a hearty supper, and snored away 
 till day broke again, with scarcely a pause. 
 Never had the crops been heavier ; never had 
 there been a finer season for securing them; 
 and never had even Andrew Bunn himself given 
 the Colonel such complete satisfaction in the 
 performance of this labor, as did his new over- 
 seer, John Dashleigh. The Colonel was loud 
 in his praises: "he is the best farmer I ever 
 see of his age," he would say to his wife ; " so 
 handy and keerful. You don't ketch him a
 
 TWICE MARRIED. Ill 
 
 sojerin' and takin' the long end of the lever 
 because he's capt'in. He jist takes the lead, 
 and, says he, ' come on,' and the feller don't 
 live that can cut his corners. And then he's 
 so much tact and kalkelation for so young a 
 chap. Actilly, he gets more work out of five 
 men, and keeps 'em all the time good-natered 
 and ambitious, than any head-man I ever had 
 could out of seven." 
 
 And it was, indeed, a sight right well worth 
 beholding, to see John Dashleigh at the head 
 of his file of men, sweeping away before him 
 the tall herds-grass, laden with glittering dew- 
 drops, at every steady swing of his long scythe- 
 blade, and leaving behind him a broad swarth, 
 wider by six inches than that of any of his 
 followers. At least this was Lucy's opinion, 
 as she watched him one morning from her 
 chamber-window, and took silent note of the 
 fine proportions of his tall figure, displayed, it 
 must be confessed, to the best advantage in the 
 graceful motions of his labor. And as often as 
 she met him in the house, at meal times and 
 noonings, in spite of his apparel, coarse and 
 often soiled, and in spite of the sweat and dust
 
 112 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 of toil that frequently disfigured his merry face, 
 she never failed to think what a good-looking 
 man was her cousin John. 
 
 In New England, during the severe labors 
 of the hay-harvest, the " men-folks " are a 
 privileged class. When, answering to the 
 welcome summons of the dinner-horn, their 
 whoop is heard faintly sounding from the dis- 
 tant field, forthwith ensues a bustle in the 
 farmer's kitchen, and, by the time the sweaty 
 band arrive, and have laved their sun-browned 
 faces in cool water, at the stone trough by the 
 well-curb, the substantial dinner is steaming 
 upon the table. No meagre diet doth the 
 Yankee haymaker feed upon ; but hearty beef 
 and pork, garnished with garden-sauce in sea- 
 son; new potatoes, beets, beans and peas, green 
 corn and succotash. The best that the house 
 affords is set ungrudgingly before him, and, 
 though he be a negro, he is served at his meals 
 by the mistress herself and her white-armed 
 daughters. 
 
 Lucy used to take an especial pleasure in 
 waiting upon John, as he sat like a baron at the 
 head of the table ; helping him to choice mor-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 113 
 
 sels of the victuals, filling his glass with cool 
 water or sparkling cider, and, in fine, anticipa- 
 ting all the wishes of his appetite. Many a 
 dainty pie and loaf of cake found its way into 
 the luncheon-basket, that would have remained 
 in the buttery if it had not been for Lucy's 
 providence. The Colonel's hands, that summer, 
 fared sumptuously every day, both in the house 
 and in the field. "Tell ye," said old Black 
 Tite, one day, moved to enthusiasm by discover- 
 ing in the bottom of the firkin a half a dozen 
 cups of custard, and a bottle of currant wine ; 
 "ef Joab Sweeny dont jis get a prize, when he 
 gets Miss Loosy, den der ain't no bumble-bees." 
 In the evening, when the toil of the long, 
 sultry day was over, John, after making himself 
 tidy, would frequently go into the parlor, 
 where he would find Lucy and little Ellen, 
 between whom a very ardent friendship had 
 been revived, so that they were seldom apart. 
 Lucy always welcomed him with a smile, that 
 made him forget in a single moment the weari- 
 ness occasioned by a whole day of hard labor. 
 She would insist upon his taking a seat in the 
 big rocking-chair; and then going to the piano,
 
 114 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 she would play over his favorite airs. She had 
 a sweet little warbling voice, like a canary 
 bird's ; just suited to the songs that John most 
 loved to hear; and I do not believe that either 
 Jenny Lind or Sontag ever sung to so admiring 
 an auditory as Lucy used to have at these 
 pleasant little concerts, in the evenings of the 
 haying season. Little Ellen thought her cousin 
 Lucy the handsomest and most accomplished 
 creature in the world, and John's good opinion 
 was not a whit the less exalted. Sometimes, 
 when Lucy got tired of playing and singing, 
 she and Ellen would go and sit down together 
 on the threshold of the front doorway, with 
 their arms around each other's waists. John 
 would take his place upon the broad step-stone 
 at their feet ; and there the three would sit in 
 the still twilight, and talk about all manner of 
 things. Lucy would tell over her reminiscences 
 of the Misses Primber's school, and relate 
 numerous anecdotes of her schoolmates, until 
 Ellen got to know all the young ladies by name, 
 as well as if she had actually been acquainted 
 with them in person; and John was able, by 
 means of Lucy's vivid descriptions, to recog-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 115 
 
 nize those of them who had been her compan- 
 ions on the occasion of his meeting her in the 
 , street at Hartford. Then John, in turn, would 
 give accounts of the distant and wonderful 
 Genesee country, and tell stories of wolves, 
 bears, panthers and Indians, some of which 
 were so frightful, heard in the dim, shadowy 
 gloaming, that the girls would beg him to come 
 and sit between them on the threshold. 
 
 Sometimes, when it was moonlight, they 
 used to go out and sit on the bench, under the 
 big elm, or stroll up and down the gravel walk 
 in the front yard, or may be go across the street 
 to the widow's cottage. It so happened, one 
 night, that they found Mrs. Manners there, and 
 they all had a very merry time together, listen- 
 ing to the anecdotes which the two matrons 
 told of the babyhood of Lucy and John. Mrs. 
 Dashleigh gave, at great length, a minute and 
 circumstantial account of the dangerous acci- 
 dent which had befallen Lucy when she was a 
 two-year old, in falling down the cellar bulk- 
 head, while John listened shudderingly, and 
 thought what a gloomy, sad-colored world it 
 would have been if she had been killed. After
 
 116 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 this, the widow recalled to mind some funny 
 baby-talk of Lucy's, and repeated it; and this 
 suggested to Mrs. Manners some queer speech . 
 or other which John had made while he was 
 yet in petticoats. Both the ladies agreed with 
 respect to the marvelous fondness which Lucy 
 and John had manifested for each other in their 
 childhood, and fortified their joint testimony 
 by alternately relating corroborative incidents. 
 
 "And don't you remember, Polly," cried 
 Mrs. Manners, offering her snuff-box to her 
 sister, "how they always used to play they 
 was husband and wife ?" 
 
 "Law! well! I guess I do!" replied the 
 widow. "I remember the first time his pa 
 ever got him a new pair of boots ; high ones, 
 you know, with legs to 'em like men's I re- 
 c'lect " 
 
 "Oh! I never shall forget it," cried Mrs. 
 Manners, interrupting ; "he come right up to 
 our house, and walked in as proud " 
 
 "And said," interpolated Mrs. Dashleigh. 
 
 "And, says he," continued Mrs. Manners, 
 raising her voice and speaking more rapidly, so 
 that her sister gave up the floor without further
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 117 
 
 contest; "and, says he, a hauling up his trow- 
 sers, so's to show his boot-legs ; now, says he, 
 I'm a man, like pa, and big enough to marry 
 Lucy!" 
 
 "And, don't you think " began the widow. 
 
 "And, if you'll believe me," pursued the 
 irresistible Mrs. Manners, addressing John and 
 Lucy as if they were not themselves; "both 
 them little creturs cried like babies, as they 
 was, because Miss Graham, that was up to our 
 house a tailorin', told 'em, real sort o' cross 
 like, that they want nigh old enough yet." 
 
 " She was a spiteful cretur, that Miss Gra- 
 ham," said the widow. 
 
 "Indeed she was," replied her sister; "she 
 went up that very night, and told the Deacon's 
 wife all about it, and Sally Blake, that was, 
 Sally Bunn, that is now, told me afterwards, 
 that a madder woman she never heerd scold. 
 Actilly, she whipped Sally, and sent her to bed 
 without any supper, when the poor little gal 
 hadn't done anything out of the way." 
 
 After this manner, the two elder ladies con- 
 tinued their gossip, to the infinite edification 
 and amusement of their juniors. It was very
 
 118 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 late, indeed; nay, almost ten o'clock, when 
 Mrs. Manners, at the conclusion of a narrative 
 of the adventures of Lucy's first school-day, 
 under John's guardianship, quietly slipped out 
 into the kitchen, whither the widow directly 
 followed her, leaving Lucy with John and 
 Ellen in the front room. Presently, Mrs. Dash- 
 leigh returned, and upon being inquired of by 
 Lucy, declared that Mrs. Manners, having look- 
 ed at the clock, had departed in a great haste, 
 apparently quite forgetful that she was leaving 
 Lucy behind her. Of course, when Lucy got 
 up from her chair, and said that she must hurry 
 home too, John rose also, and offered to be her 
 beau across the street; and Ellen was going, 
 too, but her mother told her it was too late, and 
 that she must stay ; at which the little damsel 
 was greatly dissatisfied. 
 
 It was a most lovely midsummer night ; still, 
 warm, and fragrant. The moon, in a cloudless 
 sky, was nearly at its full ; and its rays, at this 
 hour, almost vertical, came shimmering down 
 through the dense foliage of the great elm that 
 stood in the little lawn in front of Colonel 
 Manners' house, and silvered the leaves of the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 119 
 
 lilacs and syringas which grew about the door 
 The clumps of shrubbery, and the fruit trees 
 in the orchards, cast deep circular shadows 
 upon the ground beneath them. The slender 
 spire of the meeting-house steeple, in the village 
 hard by, glistened like a silver needle, and 
 stood up, strangely tall and far away into the 
 deep blue sky. The intervale meadows, cover- 
 ed with a dense, low-lying mist, seemed like 
 some broad river or wide arm of the sea ; the 
 nearer trees and copses looming up like islands, 
 and the hills beyond, like the distant further 
 shore. Even the sense of hearing aided the 
 illusion ; for the subdued murmur of the far off 
 water-fall in the northern glen sounded to the 
 ear so like the noise of surf upon a shelving 
 sandy beach, that one suddenly set down upon 
 the spot would have found it difficult to realize 
 that he was in an inland district, many miles 
 away from the sea. All else was breathlessly 
 still, except the chirping of the crickets and 
 katydids, and the hushed whisper of the zephyr 
 among the leaves, that served only to make the 
 silence audible. 
 
 Now, John Dashleigh, when he had deliber-
 
 120 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 ately made up his mind to do a thing, never 
 dreamed of putting off, without good cause, the 
 execution of his purpose; but proceeded at 
 once to action, as soon as ever he was ready 
 and had an opportunity. Though he had but 
 little experience in love affairs, his common 
 sense taught him that it was dangerous to be 
 dilly-dallying and hesitating about declaring 
 himself, and, withal, he had been by no means 
 an unobservant witness of the weekly recur- 
 rence of Joab's Sunday evening visits. He had, 
 therefore, fully resolved to avail himself of the 
 first favorable opportunity to tell Lucy that he 
 loved her, and to ask of her the momentous 
 question, whether there was any reason for him 
 to hope that his love might be returned. I 
 would not have it supposed, however, that 
 John was confident of receiving a reply such 
 as he wished to hear, for I firmly believe there 
 was never in the world a lover more modest 
 than he, or who was less sensible of his own 
 merits. The hope that he cherished had just 
 enough force to prompt him to avow his love. 
 " There may be a chance for me," he would 
 say to himself; and I assure you he was not the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 121 
 
 man to forego trying even one chance in a 
 thousand, or to shrink with unmanly dread 
 from learning thereby the fate in store for him. 
 
 John and Lucy had got no further than the 
 gate of Colonel Manners' front yard, when he 
 began. " Lucy," said he, with a tremor in his 
 voice that he could not control, "before you go 
 into the house, I wish to say something to you 
 which, perhaps, may displease you but until 
 you bid me stop, or I see you are angry or an- 
 noyed, I shall speak on till I have finished." 
 
 Now, that little puss, Lucy, knew as well as 
 John Dashleigh himself did what he was about 
 to say ; nevertheless, of course, as is the way 
 with women at such times, when they are no- 
 thing loth to listen, she dissembled, and ap- 
 peared to be unaware of John's intentions, and 
 affected a cool surprise and faint wonder; 
 though, if the truth were only known, it would 
 appear that her heart was throbbing so wildly 
 she was actually afraid John would hear its 
 thumping. "Pray, cousin John," said she, as 
 soon as she dared to trust her voice, "what can 
 you be going to say to me that you think will 
 displease me?" "I wish to tell you Lucy,"
 
 122 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 said John, replying to the question in the only 
 manner that he was accustomed to use that 
 is to say, in the most straightforward way in the 
 world "I wish to tell you that I love you so 
 well, that I cannot find words to express myself." 
 
 "Why y ! John!" cried Lucy, as if she were 
 very much surprised, and affecting a reproach- 
 ful manner. 
 
 "I have offended you, I know," said John, 
 who, in his simplicity, thought he had shocked 
 his fair cousin by his audacious avowal ; and 
 his heart grew so heavy that it came near 
 weighing him to the ground. He looked down 
 into her face. There was never anything so 
 beautiful as it was in the soft moonlight that 
 shone upon it. She did not raise her eyes, and 
 he felt sure that she was angry. The feeble 
 hope that hitherto had sustained him died away 
 in his heart, and the void it left ached with a 
 torture so intense that, in spite of his manhood, 
 he could not endure it without complaint. The 
 words carne to his lips without his consent, 
 even against his will. "Oh! God! I cannot 
 bear it!" said he, in a tone so full of despair 
 that Lucy looked up in a sudden fright, and the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 123 
 
 roguish smile which he had not observed van- 
 ished from her lips. She saw the expression of 
 keen agony apparent, upon his pale features ; 
 and the instinct of coquetry which I regret 
 to say had a place in her heart was at once 
 shamed and subdued, by the sight of his dis- 
 tress. She felt almost appalled at finding her- 
 self loved with such a strength of passion ; and 
 the deep springs of womanly tenderness welled 
 up in her heart with a sudden overflow. She 
 had suspected herself, before, of loving John, 
 though she had not been entirely certain ; but 
 from that moment she never doubted again that 
 he was dearer to her than all the world besides. 
 It may not be fair, even for an author, to 
 expose to the world the secrets of a maiden's 
 heart, but the truth is that Lucy had been 
 almost as strongly impressed by John's appear- 
 ance, on the occasion of meeting him on the 
 street at Hartford, as he himself had been at 
 seeing her. The young lady with whom she 
 used to sleep at the Misses Primber's Seminary, 
 and for whom she, at that time, entertained an 
 undying affection, which was fully reciproca- 
 ted this young lady, I say, (who is, by the by,
 
 124 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 at the present time, the grandmother of four 
 chubby children,) can testify, that not long 
 after the occasion which has just been alluded 
 to, Lucy confessed to her, in a moment of con- 
 fidence, that the Handsome Forester was her 
 very beau-ideal of manly beauty ; and that she 
 wished "heaven had made her such a man," 
 and had given him the means to dress a little 
 more in accordance with the prevailing fash- 
 ions. No small part of Lucy's surprise, when 
 John dropped out of the pear-tree, was due to 
 her recognition of Robin Hood in the person of 
 the youth prostrate at her feet, and at finding 
 him to be the cousin John of whom she had 
 always preserved so affectionate a remembrance. 
 As I have already told you, the womanly in- 
 stinct which so seldom errs, revealed to her 
 that John was in love with her ; and when she 
 came to reflect upon this discovery, she found 
 that it afforded her a great deal of pleasure and 
 satisfaction ; though she did not as yet suspect 
 how nearly the condition of her own heart re- 
 sembled that of her cousin's. It was not a 
 great while, however, before she detected her- 
 self thinking that, if Joab were only like John,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 125 
 
 how much less strong would be her aversion to 
 the proposed marriage. She was alone in her 
 room, before the glass, tying on her night-cap 
 and striving to coax the rebellious curls into 
 something like order, and at first she hardly 
 dared to meet the glance of her own eyes in 
 the mirror. She felt that she was blushing; 
 and so she leaned her head on the little white 
 dimity toilet table, and did not look up again 
 for a long while. She asked her heart the 
 question, whether it was not that it loved John 
 which caused her to wish that Joab resembled 
 him ; and in reply her deceitful little heart 
 told her a falsehood, and persuaded her that 
 the sentiment in question was nothing more 
 than merely a warm cousinly regard and affec- 
 tion. 
 
 "You are to marry Joab, you know," whis- 
 pered the heart, "and of course it is not won- 
 derful you should wish him to be more like 
 John; for Joab between ourselves is any- 
 thing but lovable ; while John," continued the 
 heart, throbbing violently, "is a handsome, 
 agreeable, noble, manly young fellow, who, if 
 he had had the one-half of Joab's advantages,
 
 126 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 would have made just the lover and husband 
 we have dreamed about sometimes." 
 
 "Mere cousinly regard!" repeated Lucy; 
 "and are you sure that this is all?" 
 
 " Perfectly sure," faltered the heart. 
 
 " And ought I not to be somewhat careful of 
 you, for fear lest I shall lose you?" says Lucy; 
 "and should I not conduct myself towards 
 John with a little more reserve?" 
 
 "Pooh!" replies the heart, "thank you for 
 nothing; let me take care of myself; and do 
 you treat John as he deserves ; for he is a kins- 
 man, worthy of your best cousinly love. But," 
 continued the heart, with a flutter, "do as you 
 please ; I am not at all interested in the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 "But on John's account;" persisted Lucy. 
 "Will not he get to loving me too much, and 
 so be miserable when I am finally married to 
 Joab?" 
 
 "You are a vain, conceited creature," replies 
 the heart; concealing a pang of sudden pain, 
 by retorting in this way ; " how do you know 
 that John loves you any more than he ought to 
 love a cousin and an old playmate ? And even
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 127 
 
 if he does love you a little more warmly than 
 this, he will forget you easily," (and here there 
 was another keen pang,) " and marry somebody 
 else ;" and here there came a third pang, so 
 violent that Lucy burst into tears, and cried 
 with her head still on the table, until at last 
 she put out her light in a hurry, and got into 
 bed, where, after a while, she sobbed herself to 
 sleep. 
 
 Now, though the heart caused itself a deal 
 of distress by suggesting this notion of John's 
 marrying some other girl, it could not have 
 done a thing which would have aided, to a 
 greater degree, the deception of which it had 
 been guilty. For Lucy was thereby persuaded 
 to fancy herself thinking of John, as if he were 
 already the lover and suitor of this imaginary 
 mistress ; and her heart kept on assuring her 
 that of course there could be no danger of 
 loving him too well. Besides, this idea pre- 
 vented her from feeling for John that tender- 
 ness which would have alarmed her, and put 
 her upon her guard. Indeed, there were some- 
 times, when this fancy was uppermost in her 
 mind, that she carried herself towards him with
 
 128 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 a coolness and reserve which caused him no 
 little pain. However, these occasions were 
 unfrequent ; for, as I have told you, in obedi- 
 ence to the impulses of her heart, she usually 
 treated him with the kindness and distinction 
 due to so near and worthy a kinsman. But 
 when, on the night that John declared his love, 
 Lucy was forewarned by his manner of his in- 
 tention to do so, her treacherous little heart 
 began to beat with such a tumultuous delight 
 and sweet alarm, that it was no longer able to 
 deceive its mistress ; and, as I have already 
 related, the emotion which filled her soul at the 
 spectacle of John's anguish, caused by her 
 supposed indifference, testified so plainly, with 
 respect to the condition of her own feelings, 
 that she could not help being convinced. She 
 acknowledged to herself that she loved him 
 with all her heart ; and then she hastened to 
 relieve the pain that he was suffering. She 
 took his hand, and without thinking of herself, 
 or giving heed to the proprieties of maidenly 
 reserve, she looked up straight into his 
 face. 
 
 "John," said she, "dear John; if it will
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 12S 
 
 give you pleasure to know that I love 
 
 you " 
 
 When Lucy had got as far as this she hesita- 
 ted, and then paused ; for she saw that she had 
 said enough for her purpose ; and, besides, it is 
 somewhat of an enterprise, for a lady to tell a 
 gentleman, for the first time in the world, that 
 she loves him, except in a whispered monosyl- 
 lable, by the way of reply to an urgent and oft 
 repeated question. But, notwithstanding the 
 incompleteness of the sentence, John thought 
 he had never before heard anything so perfect. 
 He could hardly believe his senses, and he 
 would have doubted the evidence of his ears, 
 but that this testimony was corroborated by 
 the soft and bewitching confusion of Lucy's 
 manner ; for, no sooner had she ceased speak- 
 ing, than she dropped her eyelids, and looked 
 down upon the ground, her head drooping with 
 modest concern, at the boldness of her speech ; 
 while her face was suffused with a charming 
 blush, that could be perceived even by the 
 moonlight. 
 
 For a single moment John stood still and 
 uncovered his head. I am not ashamed to con
 
 130 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 fess, that during this brief pause he uttered a 
 fervent thanksgiving to the good God. The 
 impulse of every man's heart prompts him, 
 when suddenly made conscious of the gift of a 
 great blessing, or when first assured of deliver- 
 ance from great peril, to do what John Dash- 
 leigh did ; but it is not every one who, like him, 
 would obey his good impulses at such a time. 
 Lucy observed this emotion of gratitude, and 
 its devout expression ; and I assure you that 
 she loved him none the less, but rather the 
 more, for that the first impulse of his adoration 
 had been, not towards her, but to the great 
 Giver of all good gifts. 
 
 I shall not relate further what was said and 
 done by John and Lucy, during the remainder 
 of the time they were together that memorable 
 evening ; because, as they talked mostly in 
 whispers, and low murmurs, audible only to 
 themselves, it is plain enough that they did not 
 wish to be overheard and reported. Let it 
 suffice, then, to say that when, an hour after- 
 wards, they parted at the step-stone of the front 
 door, and he took advantage of the shadow of 
 a lilac-bush to press a prolonged kiss upon her
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 131 
 
 lips, he had a perfect and indefeasible right so 
 to do. She was entirely willing to be bidden 
 good-night in that pleasant fashion as well, 
 indeed, she might be for she had promised to 
 marry John, and he had promised to marry 
 Lucy. 
 
 When Lucy went into the house she found 
 her mother sitting up and waiting for her. As 
 soon as she took off her bonnet, looked up at 
 the clock, and, in a whisper, began to stammer 
 excuses for staying out so late, her mother laid 
 down her knitting-work, and looked up into 
 her blushing face with such a shrewd, kind, 
 knowing, inquiring smile, that Lucy was per- 
 suaded by it not to put off the confession which 
 she had resolved to defer until the morning, 
 but to tell at once what had happened. She 
 was a little embarrassed, and at a loss how to 
 begin ; but when her mother put her arm 
 about her waist, and kissed her head, as she 
 leaned it against her bosom, and whispered 
 softly, "tell me all about it, my child," the 
 words came of themselves, right out of her full 
 heart. 
 
 They sat there together until the candle
 
 132 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 burned down to its socket, talking in whispers ; 
 while in the bedroom hard by, the good Colonel, 
 against whose cherished project they were plot- 
 ting, tired with his afternoon's labor in the 
 hayfield, slept, oblivious of the danger and his 
 cares. Once in a while his sonorous, measured 
 snoring would cease for a moment, and the two 
 women would listen with bated breath, until, 
 with a vigorous puff and snort, the sleeper 
 would start off again upon another heat, and 
 the whispered conference would be resumed. 
 At last, when the tall, old-fashioned clock in 
 the corner began to splutter its warning, be- 
 fore striking the hour of two, Mrs. Manners 
 kissed the glowing cheek of her daughter, and 
 with another low murmured assurance that 
 she herself would manage to bring everything 
 to a happy result, bade her good-night ; and 
 Lucy, after returning her mother's kiss, lit her 
 candle and tripped up stairs, with a heart as 
 light as love and hope could make it, and her 
 eyes as sparkling and wide awake as they had 
 ever appeared of a morning, after a long, sound 
 night's slumber. When she got up into her 
 chamber, she put her light down upon the table,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 133 
 
 arid went to the open window, to look out upon 
 the bench under the big elm tree ; a spot ever- 
 more to be endeared to her by having been the 
 place where she and her lover had plighted 
 faith to each other. 
 
 The moon was still shining brightly, and she 
 was not a little startled at beholding John 
 Dashleigh, standing with Boatswain in the 
 shadow of the tree. He was not so far off but 
 that she could hear him speak, in a low, quick 
 tone, as she came to the window. " Don't be 
 afraid," said he, advancing towards the house 
 as he spoke, until he came and stood among 
 the thick lilac-bushes that grew before the 
 parlor windows. "It's me," said John, again 
 looking up. 
 
 "But why have you not gone home?" whis- 
 pered Lucy, secretly pleased, withal, that her 
 lover had not found it in his heart to go to bed 
 like a sensible man, but had preferred to stay 
 out in the moonlight, haunting the neigh- 
 borhood of the big elm, during the short 
 hours. 
 
 "I saw that you did not go up to your 
 
 room," replied John, "and so I have been 
 12
 
 134 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 waiting and watching. You have been talking 
 with Aunt Betsy '?" 
 
 " Yes ;" said Lucy with great vivacity, " and 
 it's all right ! I have told her everything, and 
 just as we thought, she is on our side ! Hur- 
 rah !" 
 
 "And what does she say?" asked John, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I mustn't, on any account, tell papa, at 
 present. She will manage all that " 
 
 " And Joab ?" 
 
 " Ah ! that's the worst of it, John. She says 
 that I must let Joab continue his horrid visits, 
 though I may tell him that I don't like either 
 him or his visits, and will never be willing to 
 marry him. After that, she says, he can have 
 no reason to complain whatever may happen." 
 
 " Well," said John, in a doubtful tone, " for 
 my part I must own that I think the plainest 
 and most straightforward way is, usually, the 
 best way. However, Aunt Betsy is a very wise 
 and sensible woman, and " 
 
 At this moment, Boatswain, upon whose 
 doggish nature and sensibilities the moonlight 
 had been exercising its wonted influence, and
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 135 
 
 who, besides, though evidently unwilling to 
 entertain ill-natured suspicions, concerning 
 John's motives in lurking about the house at 
 midnight, had, nevertheless, in secret, been 
 greatly disturbed in his mind thereby, Boat- 
 swain, I say, suddenly threw back his head, 
 stuck his nose into the air, and through the 
 wide calibre of his capacious throat gave vent 
 to an obstreperous howl, which was intended 
 partly as a serenade to the man in the moon, 
 and partly by way of respectful, but earnest 
 remonstrance against the further continuance of 
 John's singular and ill-timed proceedings. 
 
 " Heavens ! what a noise !" cried Lucy, who 
 had been at first almost scared out of her wits 
 by Boatswain's outcry. 
 
 " Hush-sh, hush up ! get out, you brute !" 
 cried John, stamping on the ground. 
 
 " Ow-ow-oo-o-o-o-woo," howled the dog, 
 still with his muzzle pointing towards the 
 zenith, but looking sideways at John with an 
 intelligent leer, as if he would say, " I'm right, 
 and you know it. You ought to be a-bed at 
 this time o' night, and not be here under Lucy's 
 window. You're a young man, and a friend of
 
 136 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 mine, and probably don't mean any harm ; but 
 your conduct isn't proper, and I can't help say- 
 ing so ow-ow-oo-o-woo." 
 
 John's conscience was smitten by this re- 
 proof, which was as intelligible as if it had 
 been uttered in the plainest English. So he 
 threw up a kiss to Lucy, and she dropped one 
 down to him, and they bade each other good- 
 night. Then Lucy pretended to draw the cur- 
 tains close, but left a peep-hole through which 
 she watched John as he went along down the 
 gravel walk, accompanied by Boatswain, who 
 appeared to be exceedingly gratified at his 
 retreat ; though, to be sure, when John turned 
 to latch the wicket after him, the dog came 
 up and licked his hand, snuffing and wagging 
 his tail with an apologetic manner; as if to 
 express a hope that no offense whatever would 
 be taken at his well-meant outcry, but that the 
 cordial friendship, which ever since the affair of 
 the pear-tree had subsisted between them, 
 might, notwithstanding, continue unbroken. 
 
 John stood upon the doorstep of his mother's 
 cottage until he saw the light extinguished in 
 Lucy's room. Then, softly pressing the latch,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 137 
 
 and gently pushing the door ajar, he went in, 
 and was walking on tiptoe across the narrow 
 kitchen floor, towards the stairs that led to his 
 attic, when he heard his mother's voice calling 
 to him in a subdued but distinct tone. He 
 turned and went to the door of her little bed 
 room. She was in bed, leaning on her elbow ; 
 while little Ellen slept soundly by her side, 
 with the moonlight shining in upon her pretty 
 face. 
 
 " I have disturbed you, I'm afraid, mother," 
 said John. 
 
 " No, my son, I have not yet been asleep, to- 
 night," said Mrs. Dashleigh, and then, in a mo- 
 ment after, she asked, " What does Lucy say?" 
 
 " Mother !" cried John, in surprise. 
 
 "Did you think, my darling, I had not 
 guessed your secret ?" said the widow. Then 
 there was a pause, while the kitchen clock 
 ticked loudly. " She is mine, mother," said 
 John, at last. "Thank God!" 
 
 " Thank God," repeated the widow, suddenly 
 lying down with her face upon the pillow. 
 Poor woman ; the instinct of a mother's heart 
 had revealed to her that John was loving his
 
 13S TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 fair cousin so well that his life's happiness was 
 staked upon the issue. She had divined his 
 resolution to leave his home and seek in ab- 
 sence to conquer his passion if he should fail 
 to win Lucy's love. 
 
 " Then you know all, mother ?" asked John. 
 
 " I knew that you loved Lucy," replied the 
 widow, looking up. 
 
 " And aunt Betsy ?" 
 
 " She went home alone to-night on purpose 
 to give you the opportunity to speak to Lucy 
 which she thought you wished for." 
 
 " God bless her!" said John, with fervency. 
 
 "I have been watching you through the win- 
 dow all the livelong night," continued Mrs. 
 Dashleigh. " I havn't had my eyes off from 
 you since you first went out till you came to 
 the door again. I saw you sitting on the bench 
 with Lucy, in the shadow, and though I 
 couldn't see you then so plain, I guessed you'd 
 been successful. So I went to bed, but still 
 kept peeping through the window ; but when, 
 after she went in, you stayed in the yard, walk- 
 ing about so like a distracted person, I feared 
 all had gone wrong."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 139 
 
 " No, mother," cried John, gaily ; " all is 
 right ; at least," said he, correcting himself, 
 " all but getting Uncle Starr's consent ; that 
 yet remains to be done." 
 
 " Just leave that matter to your aunt Betsy," 
 said his mother. "She can bring it about, she 
 says, though I don't well see how. But now 
 kiss me, and run to bed. You'll not feel like 
 haying it to-morrow, poor boy." 
 
 "Humph!" said John, shaking himself; 
 "why, mother, I could pitch a ton of hay over 
 the big beam in five minutes, and not feel it ! 
 I'm as strong as an ox. Never fear that I 
 shan't do a good day's work to-morrow. A 
 light heart makes light labor." 
 
 And, in point of fact, when the sun went 
 down after his next rising, John had performed 
 such wonders in the hayfield, that to this day 
 old Tite recounts them by way of illustrating 
 his favorite theory of the degeneracy of the 
 later generation; until at last the story has 
 grown so marvelous as to be beyond sober 
 belief.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE last great wain-load of red-top and 
 clover had long since been hauled home from 
 the most distant outland meadow, and with 
 much clamor and rejoicing had been safely 
 garnered upon the lofty summit of the fragrant 
 mow. Where, erewhile, had waved fields of 
 stout timothy, and golden oats and barley, 
 now herds of cattle roamed at will, gleaning 
 after the reapers, unchecked by gates and bars, 
 and safe from molestation and pursuit, as tres- 
 passers, by angry men and dogs. The pipe of 
 the quail was heard among the patches of 
 yellow stubble that checkered the yet green 
 hill-sides. The maize stalks, bending with the 
 weight of lusty ears, had been despoiled of 
 their nodding plumes ; and between their long 
 rows, hosts of round, yellow pumpkins lay 
 ripening in the sun, among the withered vines. 
 In the orchards, beneath the trees, the fallen 
 fruit reddened the ground. Great heaps of 
 rosy apples were piled beside the sheds, where
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 141 
 
 all day long the creaking cider-mills uttered 
 loud complaints, while from the press hard by 
 the rich must trickled from the pummice, 
 with a pleasant, tinkling sound, into the brim- 
 ming vats. The foliage of the woods upon 
 the western cliffs was mottled with gaudy hues 
 of red and yellow. Even the crowns of the 
 hardy elms were no longer green, and each 
 rude breath of wind shook from aloft a shower 
 of rustling leaves. In the chilly mornings, 
 beneath the oaks and chestnuts, the frosty 
 sward was bestrewn with mast, where provi- 
 dent squirrels, mindful of the coming winter, 
 filled their capacious cheeks, and then scamper- 
 ed nimbly homewards with their spoil along 
 the tops of walls and fences. The berries of 
 the mountain ash and asparagus, and the cap- 
 sules on the rose bushes had grown to ruddy 
 maturity. By the roadside the withered milk- 
 weeds displayed the glossy, silken contents of 
 their bursting pods, and the hazy air was full 
 of thistle-down and floating gossamer. The 
 frowzy pastures were bright with the yellow 
 blossoms of the golden-rod and mullein. The 
 measured, muffled thump of flails, and the
 
 142 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 clatter of farming-mills all day resounded 
 through the valley. All night the pensive 
 crickets chirped the requiem of departed sum- 
 mer, and petulant katydids joined in the me- 
 lancholy chorus with harsh, dissonant cries. 
 October, the month of plenty, had arrived, 
 with its bright but dwindling days and hale 
 and frosty nights. 
 
 It was a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon, 
 and the staid and pious population of Walbury 
 had assembled, for the second service, within 
 the walls of their ancient meeting-house. The 
 scripture had been read, the first hymn sung, 
 the long prayer devoutly uttered, to the final 
 amen, and the weary-footed congregation, once 
 more seated at their ease, had listened admir- 
 ingly to the singers in the gallery, while, with 
 various rates of speed, each had followed, as 
 best he might, in the wake of Joab, bravely 
 leading them through the intricate windings, 
 turnings, and doublings of that famous old 
 fugue melody of " Majesty." The Parson had 
 put on his spectacles and risen to his feet, and 
 Deacon Sweeny, as w r as his custom of a Sunday 
 afternoon, had thrown over his bald crown a
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 143 
 
 red bandanna handkerchief, and, leaning his 
 reverend head against a post that stood handily 
 in the corner of his pew, had comfortably dis- 
 posed himself for a quiet nap. But when, 
 instead of opening at once the well-worn covers 
 of his sermon-book, and giving out the text, 
 Parson Graves slowly spread out before him 
 on the desk a broad, stiif sheet of crackling 
 paper, and began to read, with an unusual in- 
 flation of tone and pomposity of manner, " By 
 His Excellency, the Governor of the State of 
 Connecticut A Proclamation;" the Deacon 
 quickly roused himself, snatched the covering 
 from his head, and sat upright beside his rigid 
 spouse. Every eye was fixed upon the aged 
 minister, and every ear was strained to catch 
 the mangled syllables as they fell from his 
 sunken lips. Even the mischievous boys, in 
 the high fastness of the side galleries, shut their 
 jack-knives and peered over the tops of the 
 pews, where, secure from observation, they were 
 wont to disport themselves during the tedious 
 sermon time, and gave strict heed, for once, to 
 what was proclaimed from the pulpit. Straight- 
 way, in the excited imaginations of these in-
 
 144 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 genuous youth, rose appetizing visions of broad 
 pewter platters, whereon lay sprawling on 
 their backs huge turkeys, which as yet stalked 
 monarchs of the noisy poultry-yard ; of mighty 
 pasties, hot from the oven, with crisp and 
 melting crusts bulging upwards like a dome, 
 and pregnant with tender, delectable morsels 
 of dismembered chickens ; of other pies, skill- 
 fully compounded of pumpkins, mince-meat, 
 or apples ; of round-bellied puddings, speckled 
 with plums and unctuous with suet, and of 
 numerous other spicy dainties that are wont to 
 load the groaning tables at Thanksgiving- 
 time. Nay, I fear not to aver that even the 
 mouth of Parson Graves himself watered as he 
 enunciated, with sonorous emphasis, the con- 
 cluding words "By His Excellency's com- 
 mand: Thomas Day, Secretary;" and folding 
 up the document laid it carefully between the 
 leaves of the big Bible ; for, albeit he was 
 nearly toothless, he was, nevertheless, a stout 
 and famous trencherman, a quality that had 
 greatly enhanced his popularity among two 
 generations of notable Walbury housewives. 
 But, though, in like manner, the minds of
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 145 
 
 nearly all the congregation, thus suddenly 
 diverted from things spiritual, were busy with 
 thoughts and anticipations relating to the 
 household cares and carnal delights which per- 
 tain to the annual feast-day of New England, 
 there were a few among the hearers of the 
 proclamation, to whom it was suggestive of 
 ideas of a different kind. Thus, while Deacon 
 Sweeny was going through with a mental cal- 
 culation of the probable profits that would ac- 
 crue to him, by reason of the increased demand 
 for raisins, ginger, all-spice and molasses, which 
 experience had taught him to expect as inci- 
 dental to the season, Mrs. Axy, his amiable con- 
 sort, was forming a determination to avail her- 
 self of the very first opportunity to call the 
 matter of Joab's and Lucy's wedding to the 
 mind of her brother. The Colonel, himself, 
 somewhat pricked in the conscience for his 
 neglect and procrastination, was resolving to 
 delay no longer, but to open the same subject 
 that very night to his wife, and to enjoin upon 
 her and Lucy the commencement of a series of 
 preparations for the momentous event. Mrs. 
 
 Manners, with lips a little compressed, was 
 13
 
 146 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 slily watching the face of her sister-in-law, 
 the Deacon's wife, occasionally giving a quick 
 glance of observation at the Colonel, though, 
 meanwhile, she affected to be gazing stead- 
 fastly towards the pulpit. Lucy, upon another 
 seat of the pew, was pouting with anger, and 
 almost ready to cry with vexation, because 
 Joab, from the gallery, facing her, was trying 
 to catch her eye, and, when he thought he had 
 succeeded in this maneuver, to convey to her 
 the intelligence of what was passing in his own 
 mind. John, duly observant of Joab's winks 
 and leers, was one moment tingling with sup- 
 pressed wrath, and, at the next, flushing in an 
 extatic agony of anxious hope, when he recall- 
 ed to mind the confident prediction of his aunt 
 Betsy, that never, the longest day of his life, 
 would Joab Sweeny be the husband of Lucy 
 Manners. 
 
 Thirty years ago, the New England Sab- 
 bath ended at set of sun. When, closely 
 watched by impatient children, the orb of day 
 slid slowly down the western sky, and finally 
 vanished from the sight, beyond the distant 
 mountains, a universal shout of juvenile glad-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 147 
 
 ness saluted his departure; and even the grave 
 visages of the elders, weary with the strait reli- 
 gious aspect, relaxed into unwonted smiles. 
 Then commenced noisy sports upon the village 
 green, and sprucely attired swains set forth 
 to where buxom damsels, all made ready to be 
 courted, awaited the coming of their beaux. 
 Then, thrifty housewives, of the brisk and 
 bustling sort, were accustomed to begin the 
 weekly labor of the wash-tub and pounding- 
 barrel. No one need be shocked or surprised, 
 therefore, to hear that Colonel Manners and 
 his godly brother-in-law, the Deacon, met each 
 other, that Sunday night, at the bar-room of 
 the tavern, where, of a Sabbath evening, it was 
 the habit of the village elders to assemble for 
 the purposes of social intercourse, the exchange 
 of news and opinions, and the discussion of 
 town, state, and national affairs and politics. 
 These conclaves selected, from time to time, 
 the candidates for selectmen and deputies to the 
 General Assembly, and the town and freemen's 
 meetings rarely failed to ratify these nomina- 
 tions. Each of the grave seniors, in his turn, 
 used to call for a mug of flip or sling, which,
 
 148 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 when prepared by the landlord, was passed 
 from hand to hand, and from mouth to mouth. 
 Even Parson Graves himself not unfrequently 
 took his seat at the bar-room fire, and though 
 he never paid a reckoning, like the rest of the 
 company, it was not because he abstained from 
 imbibing his full share of the good liquor fur- 
 nished by the smiling publican. Those were 
 good old times, when every man had a stomach 
 under his waistcoat, for whose sake he deemed 
 it his duty to drink a little of something more 
 potent than water. 
 
 But our fathers kept early hours, and so, 
 soon after the clock struck nine, Deacon 
 Sweeny and the Colonel started on their way 
 homewards. At the Deacon's gate, they paused 
 for a moment, and just as the Colonel was 
 about to resume his walk, Mrs. Axy appeared 
 at the door, and invited her brother to come 
 into the house. "I expect," said she, as she 
 closed the door behind him with a slam, and 
 casting a look of wormwood and vinegar at her 
 spouse ; " I expect the Deacon was a goin' to 
 let you marvel right straight along hum, arter 
 all my wearin' myself out a tellin' him, over
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 149 
 
 and over agin, to be sure and have you step in 
 here a minute, ef he found you to the tavern 
 the most kerless crittur I " 
 
 " Come, come, Axy," cried the Colonel, who, 
 since he had paid the sixty-five hundred dollars, 
 often ventured to make head against the torrent 
 of his sister's scolding; "now, you jest shet 
 up, and let the Deacon have a minute's peace ; 
 or, by jingo ! I'll clear out without ever offerin' 
 to set down." 
 
 To this rebuke, Mrs. Sweeny, who had an 
 especial reason why she did not wish to dis- 
 please or irritate her brother, made no reply, 
 but discreetly restrained her wrath ; though, as 
 the Deacon well knew, and trembled at the 
 consciousness, it never lost any of its vigor by 
 being pent up in this way ; but, like small 
 beer, was all the more lively, pungent, noisy 
 and sparkling, for being bottled awhile. 
 
 After Sally Blake's unfortunate successor 
 had brought in a dish of Early G-reening apples, 
 and a pitcher of brisk new cider, and then, in 
 obedience to a sharp-toned command of her 
 mistress, had crept up, in the dark, to her nest 
 in the garret, Mrs. Sweeny, without further
 
 150 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 delay, brought forward for consideration the 
 subject of the proposed alliance. What was 
 afterwards said and done by and between the 
 high contracting parties, in Deacon Sweeny's 
 presence and hearing, during the remainder of 
 the interview, it would be tedious to relate, for 
 Mrs. Axy, when excited, could talk enough, in 
 the space of ninety minutes, to fill a large oc- 
 tavo volume of fine print. Neither do I think 
 it worth the while to set forth the earnest dia- 
 logue which took place, when, on his way 
 home, the Colonel met Joab, returning in a fit 
 of unusual and extreme dejection from his 
 weekly courting visit. Let it suffice to say, 
 that, at parting, the uncle shook the nephew by 
 the hand with great vigor, and assured him, with 
 many vehement asseverations, that he, the 
 Colonel himself, would do the rest of the 
 courting, and would do it in a hurry, too. 
 
 Lucy was in her mother's bedroom, relating, 
 with angry vivacity, a narration of the open 
 rupture which had that evening been the final 
 result of Joab's renewed and persistent allusions 
 to the subject of the wedding. She had just 
 finished the burden of her story, and was pro-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 151 
 
 ceeding, according to the custom of young 
 ladies in the like circumstances, to gratify her 
 pique and vexation, by coupling sundry dispa- 
 raging epithets, denoting the absent Joab, with 
 divers scornful and contumelious adjectives, 
 when she heard her father's step at the door. 
 A moment afterwards he entered the room. A 
 single glance at his flushed and angry face told 
 the two women that the crisis had at length 
 arrived. Mrs. Manners, however, continued knit- 
 ing busily, but her keen, gray eyes stealthily 
 followed the motions of her husband, as, with- 
 out saying a word, he pulled off his boots 
 with a jerk, and drew up his arm-chair to the 
 fire, with an angry hitch. Lucy lit her candle, 
 and was going to slip out of the room, but a 
 stern, abrupt command from her father's lips, 
 stayed her trembling steps. She put down her 
 light upon the table, and stood waiting with a 
 throbbing heart for the next word. It was not 
 long delayed, for the Colonel was full of his 
 subject, and the account which he had just 
 received from Joab, of the disdainful dismissal 
 that Lucy had given his suit, artfully embel- 
 lished with false or garbled reports of the rea-
 
 152 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 sons therefor by her assigned, and of her un- 
 filial declarations of independence, had exaspe- 
 rated him to a degree altogether unprecedented. 
 
 " So, Miss Lucy," said he, turning towards 
 her, " you don't think the husband I've chosen 
 for you is good enough, eh ? Think you know 
 better'n your old father, do you ? Mean to 
 suit yourself, whether your father, that gave 
 you a bein', likes it or not, hey ? Come, let's 
 hear some of your brave speeches now. Jest 
 talk as promp' to me as you did to Joab. 
 Speak up," continued the Colonel, waxing 
 warmer as he went on ; " don't stand there a 
 sulkin', you little hussy ! You expect to jilt 
 Joab, don't ye?" 
 
 "I don't love him, papa," replied poor Lucy, 
 with a quivering lip and imploring look at her 
 mother's calm face. 
 
 The Colonel, with an effort, stifled a strong 
 inclination to open profanity, and then con- 
 tinued in a hightened, sneering tone. " Don't 
 love him, eh? He aint so smart and slick as 
 them 'are dandyfied clarks and stoodents to 
 Har'ford, mebby? Don't use pomatum, praps. 
 Don't smell enough like a skunk to suit ye, eh?
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 153 
 
 sich a fine stylish lady as you've got to be, I 
 expect you're ashamed of your country rela- 
 tions old clod-hopper of a father, and all. 
 By jingo ! I was a dumb fool, I'm afraid, as 
 your aunt Axy says, to let you go to that in- 
 fernal school. I might ha' known you'd get 
 your idees raised too high, and your foolish 
 little head turned arter some smoothily-spoken 
 fop or other." 
 
 Lucy's eye began to kindle, for she was not 
 one of your spiritless damsels, whose only reply 
 to abuse is a flood of tears. She was about to 
 retort in a very undutiful tone and manner, 
 but a quick glance of reproof and warning 
 from her mother checked the untoward im- 
 pulse, before it had matured into action. 
 
 " Husband," began Mrs. Manners, " let me 
 say a word." 
 
 "Well, say it," replied the Colonel, who 
 entertained so profound a respect for his wife, 
 that even when the most angry and out of 
 temper, he never ventured to speak to her 
 with harshness. 
 
 " I wish," continued Mrs. Manners, pausing 
 in her knitting; " I wish that you'd let Lucy
 
 154 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 have a little more time. She's young yet, a 
 mere girl, and at present it seems don't fancy 
 Joab for a husband, but " 
 
 Here the good lady hesitated, and began to 
 knit again; and her husband, after waiting 
 decorously for her awhile, resumed his re- 
 marks. 
 
 "Betsey," said he, " I must say I never 
 heerd you talk so kind o' foolish, and little to 
 the purpose in my life. I know you're more'n 
 half agin this match, and I'm sorry enough 
 you be, for my heart is set on it, my promise 
 is given, and my mind's made up. As for 
 waitin', you know and I know, 'taint no use. 
 She's as old as you was when we was married, 
 and you've allus made a good wife. The fact 
 is, delays is dangerous, and the gal won't be 
 no more willin' a year from this time than she 
 is now. I'll leave it to her. Come now, 
 Lucy, answer, honor bright, would you be ?" 
 
 " Speak the truth, Lucy," said her mother. 
 
 " No, sir," replied Lucy, stoutly. 
 
 "There," cried the Colonel; "what did I 
 tell ye ? Now the fact is," he continued, " the 
 fact is just this, and there is no gettin' round it.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 155 
 
 This weddin' has got to take place next 
 Thanksgivin' night, and 'twont be a year 
 afore you'll both own I was right. Lucy '11 
 be all reconciled, and wouldn't be onmarried 
 for a fortin', and the old homestead here will 
 be goin' to be inherited by my father's grand- 
 children ; jest as he told me on his death-bed 
 he wanted to have it. I've gin up expectin' 
 that it can go in the name, but it '11 go in the 
 blood, and my grand-child will be a Manners, 
 both on his father's and mother's side, and 
 that will kind o' make up for his not havin' the 
 name. Ef Lucy had jest been a boy now, so 
 that it could ha' been kep in the name, I 
 shouldn't ha' been streuoous, and I wouldn't ha' 
 undertook to have interfered with her choosin' 
 sich a husband no I mean wife as she'd 
 took a fancy for ; if so be she'd ha' chosen a 
 decent young feller ; though, even in that 
 case, I should ha' rather she'd ha' had Joab ; 
 well no but well I declare," added the 
 Colonel, after a brief pause, during which he 
 had diligently rubbed his forehead ; "I get it 
 out sort o' confused; but my meanin' 's plain. 
 I can state the upshot o' the matter middlin'
 
 156 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 quick," he continued, his irritation manifestly 
 hightened by his recent failure to express his 
 ideas with distinctness; "and that's this. You 
 and your cousin Joab are to be married next 
 Thanksgivin' night ; you understand that, don't 
 ye, Miss Lucy ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," faltered Lucy. 
 
 " And you're agoin' to mind, aint ye, say?" 
 
 "No, sir," replied Lucy, with a sudden 
 boldness. 
 
 "Heavens andairth! what do ye mean?" 
 cried the Colonel, starting from his chair in 
 wrath and surprise. " Jest look a here, 
 Miss " 
 
 " Husband," began Mrs. Manners. 
 
 " I tell ye, Betsey," said the Colonel, striv- 
 ing to lower his voice to a respectful key 
 while speaking to his wife ; "I tell ye, now, 
 don't interfere. The child is mine as well as 
 yourn, and I'm a dealin' with her now. 'Taint 
 fair, nor proper, nor best for you to meddle, 
 and you musn't. When you begin fust you 
 shall have the floor, as they say to Gin'ral 
 Court: but now it's my turn, and I raly do 
 wish you'd wait till it's fairly yourn."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 157 
 
 " Only don't be rash," pleaded the mother. 
 
 "I ain't agoin' to be," resumed the Colonel. 
 Nevertheless, no sooner had he turned once 
 more towards the fair rebel, who, frightened 
 but resolute, stood shrinking and cowering 
 before her father's fiery glance, yet meeting 
 it with a steady, defiant look, than his voice 
 again rose to an angry pitch. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me," he cried , " that 
 you're agoin' to refuse to obey your father 
 you you ain't you agoin' to marry Joab 
 when I bid you to ?" 
 
 "No, sir," replied Lucy, in a low but 
 determined tone, "I don't love him, and I 
 won't marry anybody I don't love." 
 
 " But you'll larn to love him," said her father, 
 trying hard to keep his temper within safe 
 bounds, and deigning to argue the case with 
 his refractory daughter. 
 
 " I hope not," cried Lucy, passionately, for 
 she was thoroughly roused. " Oh ! I hope not. 
 It would be dreadful to have a heart capable 
 of loving such a creature !" 
 
 "By !" cried the Colonel, swearing 
 
 outright for the first time in twenty years. 
 14
 
 158 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 " There !" he added quite aghast at the pro- 
 fanity. " Do you hear that ? You've made 
 your father swear, you wicked child. The 
 Lord forgive me ! and I'm a church-member 
 and a Justice of the Peace! But it shan't be 
 for nothin', I tell ye ! I won't take the Lord's 
 name altogether in vain, for I do solemnly 
 swear " 
 
 " Oh! hush, my dear husband!" cried Mrs. 
 Manners, pale with emotion and alarm. But 
 her husband enjoined silence by an imperious 
 gesture. "I do solemnly swear," he con- 
 tinued, holding up his right hand, " that 
 unless you marry with my consent unless you 
 many your cousin, in this house, on next 
 Thanksgivin' night, in my presence, I will 
 disown you for a disobedient daughter, and cut 
 you off with a shillin' in my will so help me 
 God!" 
 
 While the angry old man was uttering his 
 oath, his wife sat with her eyes fixed upon his 
 face, her breath restrained, her lips apart, a 
 very statue of anxious attention ; while Lucy 
 stood before him, pale, erect, and rigid ; and 
 no sooner had he ceased speaking, and her
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 159 
 
 mother had, with a long breath, fallen back in 
 her chair, than she began with flashing eyes 
 and dilated nostrils, " And now hear me !" she 
 cried ; "I swear, that I will marry no one else 
 than" 
 
 "Lucy! Lucy!" cried her mother ; "stop, I 
 command you ! Hush ! hush !" she repeated, as 
 the excited girl, after hesitating for an instant, 
 attempted to resume her speech, "sit down!" 
 Lucy obeyed, and leaning her head against the 
 side of the bed, began to sob convulsively. 
 Her mother stooped over her and whispered in 
 her ear. Meanwhile the Colonel, recovering 
 somewhat from the exaltation of his wrath, 
 began both to look and feel a little foolish and 
 ashamed, albeit he strove hard to keep his 
 anger hot. 
 
 " Husband," at last said Mrs. Manners, still 
 keeping Lucy's hand in hers, " you've taken a 
 very solemn oath." 
 
 " I know it," replied the Colonel, doggedly. 
 " I don't need to be told on't, Betsey. I've 
 taken an oath, and what's more, I mean to 
 keep it." 
 
 " I don't doubt it a bit," continued his wife,
 
 160 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 with an accent of reproach, that was by no 
 means lost on her husband. " I know you too 
 well to doubt it." 
 
 " You may be sure on't," said the Colonel ; 
 " and so may Lucy." 
 
 " An oath so solemn should be recorded," 
 resumed Mrs. Manners. " I remembe r your 
 very words; for I took care to notice what 
 you said. I'll write 'em out, and you shall 
 put your name to 'em." 
 
 " Poh, psha !" said the Colonel, with a 
 sheepish, sullen air ; " what's the use of all 
 that ceremony?" 
 
 " Because," said his wife, " I intend that 
 Lucy shall obey the conditions of it to the 
 very letter. The penalty is pretty severe if 
 she fails ; nothing short of being disowned and 
 disinherited." 
 
 At this point Lucy's sobs filled her father's 
 heart with anguish. The tears came into his 
 eyes. " All she's got to do is just to obey me, 
 and that's her dooty, you'll own yourself," said 
 he, with a deprecatory manner. 
 
 "Of course, and I intend she shall j but she 
 ought to have the command, enforced as it is
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 161 
 
 with a penalty, and that by an oath, fairly 
 written out. Come, you're not afraid to put 
 in writing what you've uttered with your 
 tongue." 
 
 "Write it out, then," cried the Colonel; 
 whereupon his wife, after another whisper to 
 Lucy, rose, went to the desk, took a pen and 
 wrote a few words upon a sheet of paper, 
 which she brought to her husband on a book. 
 " There ; read it," said she j " they are your 
 very words." 
 
 " Um m m , yes," said the Colonel, 
 " yes ; that's what I said, and what I mean to 
 stick to." 
 
 " Sign it, then," said his wife, handing the 
 pen to him. 
 
 The Colonel took the quill, and slowly 
 subscribed his name. He was not a dexterous 
 penman ; the book made but an unhandy 
 desk ; and he wrote without his spectacles. 
 
 Meanwhile his wife stood looking over his 
 shoulder, with a shrewd smile upon her lips, 
 and her gray eyes twinkling. Lucy, with her 
 face buried in the bed-clothes, continued at 
 intervals to sob faintly.
 
 162 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "There," said the Colonel, returning the 
 pen to his wife, but carefully avoiding at the 
 same time to meet her glance. 
 
 "Now," said Mrs. Manners, after she had 
 folded up the paper, and put it carefully away 
 in a drawer of the desk, " now, there's your oath 
 in black and white, so that some future day, if 
 necessary, we may know just what it calls for. 
 On my part, I intend to do all that I can to 
 make Lucy perform what is therein required of 
 her to the very letter." 
 
 " If she will," said the Colonel, glancing 
 towards the bed, " there aint nothin' I won't 
 do for her." 
 
 " I want you to promise, then," said his wife, 
 " that if she conforms to what was written on 
 that paper, as I shall try to make her, you '11 
 forgive her for what's happened to-night ; and 
 though you may yourself be sorry for having 
 compelled her to marry her cousin, you'll not 
 blame her for her strict observance." 
 
 " Promise ! of course I do," cried the Colo- 
 nel. 
 
 " Come, then," said Mrs. Manners. " Lucy, 
 kiss your father; bid each other good night,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 1G3 
 
 and then I'll go up to bed with you, my 
 child." 
 
 Poor little Lucy lifted her head from the bed- 
 side, with her hair falling over her face, and came 
 tottering towards her father, with a white knuc- 
 kle in each eye. The old gentleman held out his 
 arms, and Lucy put hers about his neck. He 
 kissed her wet cheek, and smoothed down her 
 disordered curls. "Love will come with the 
 babies, Sissie," said he ; whereat Lucy burst 
 out crying again, and was led off up stairs to 
 her own chamber by her mother, sobbing 
 with redoubled vehemence. 
 
 " By George !" said the Colonel, talking to 
 himself, after the women had got out of hear- 
 ing. " By George !" said he, blowing his nose, 
 and nodding his head in a positive manner; 
 "there's nothin' like bein' firm and decided 
 when you've got women to deal with. I vow 
 I didn't expect, one spell, that Lucy would ha' 
 gi'n up so quick and easy ; for she 's gritty as 
 buckwheat bran when she gets her Ebenezer 
 up ; and as for her mother, raally I was afeared 
 she'd take up on her side agin me, and there'd 
 be the Old Nick to pay. I'm actilly tempted
 
 164 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 to tell Axy how it came out arter I put my foot 
 down, just to shut her mouth when she says 
 that Betsey leads me by the nose, and oilers 
 makes me do jest as she wants to have me. 
 I'm the head of my own family yet, I guess."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IF I were to attempt a relation of all that 
 happened between this memorable Sunday 
 night and the next Thanksgiving-day, my story, 
 which is, I fear, already too long, would be 
 extended, by the recital, far beyond all reason- 
 able limits. Albeit I cherish a modest hope 
 that, if I were to describe some of the events 
 which took place in this interval, a few, at 
 least, of my fair readers would be thereby 
 greatly entertained. For instance, there is the 
 journey to Hartford, which was performed in 
 the covered spring-wagon by Lucy and her 
 mother, John Dashleigh himself driving the 
 span of five-year-old black colts ; the main pur- 
 pose of which was the buying of Lucy's wed- 
 ding dress and other kindred matters. In the 
 space of three days, the ladies expended the 
 sum of two hundred dollars, which had been 
 given to Lucy by her fond father, in the form 
 of a roll of crisp, rustling, old Hartford bank- 
 bills ; besides a smaller sum that Mrs. Manners
 
 166 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 had on hand in her own private purse. John 
 Dashleigh, also, ordered a handsome suit of 
 clothes, which the tailor promised should be 
 finished, and sent out in a parcel to Walbury, 
 by the post-rider, in time for the wedding; 
 stipulating, furthermore, that every garment 
 should fit like a glove. He also went to a 
 goldsmith's and bought a plain gold ring; 
 which, as it was of a very small size, could not 
 have been for his own hand, and, therefore, 
 might have been intended as a present for little 
 Ellen. I might relate how John, each after- 
 noon during the sojourn in Hartford, used to 
 frequent a certain street-corner, and walk back 
 and forth, behaving so strangely, that the peo- 
 ple living in the houses near by at last fell in- 
 to various mistakes with respect to his charac- 
 ter, motives, and intentions ; some suspecting 
 him of lunacy, while the majority inclined to 
 the belief that he was a burglar, reconnoitering 
 for a professional midnight enterprise. I could 
 tell how Lucy visited her former schoolmates 
 at the Misses Primber's seminary ; how, in a 
 short time, they all knew that she was to be 
 married on Thanksgiving night ; and how, in
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 167 
 
 consequence, she was stared at by some of the 
 younger girls, who strove to realize, as they 
 gazed, that the person before them was so very 
 soon to become a bride, and to fancy how they 
 themselves would feel when placed in similarly 
 interesting circumstances. I might also relate, 
 (for authors know everything,) the very private 
 and confidential conversation that Lucy held 
 with the young lady, of whom honorable men- 
 tion has heretofore been made, to wit, her 
 quondam bedfellow; but as the young lady 
 herself, with a degree of discretion and reti- 
 cence which was, under the circumstances, 
 most truly marvelous, did not betray the 
 secrets at that interview confided to her keep- 
 ing, though sorely tempted so to do, I should 
 be ashamed not to imitate so worthy an exam- 
 ple. Besides, I have another reason for being 
 close-mouthed, which the reader may presently 
 discover for himself. 
 
 Equally pleasant, I trust, would it be to 
 hear of the other preparations for the wedding 
 that were constantly going on at Walbury, 
 until the house seemed turned topsy-turvy, and 
 there was not a room, from cellar to garret, in
 
 168 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 which there was not something to put one in 
 mind of the approaching event. In one cham- 
 ber you would find a quilting-frame, nearly 
 filling the space, surrounded by a hollow square 
 of women and girls, each busily plying needle 
 and scissors. In another, a group of seam- 
 stresses were perpetually employed in the 
 manufacture of sheets, table-cloths, pillow-cases 
 and all sorts of household linen. The Colonel 
 found himself an intruder even in his own bed- 
 room, where his wife and daughter had fallen 
 into the habit of holding frequent consultations 
 with a fashionably-attired mantua-maker 
 whom they had fetched home with them on 
 the back seat of the spring-wagon, all the way 
 from Hartford over the silks, laces, gauzes 
 and ribbons, with which the bed and sofa were 
 continually bestrewn. He could scarcely even 
 open the door of this apartment without hear- 
 ing a little scream from Lucy, who would be 
 discovered standing bare-armed in the middle 
 of the floor, in her petticoat and stays, with 
 Mrs. Manners and the dressy mantua-maker 
 busily engaged in pinning, basting, and pucker- 
 ing curiously shaped pieces of silk and satin
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 169 
 
 about her bosom and waist, and little Ellen 
 standing by, holding a pincussion or a work- 
 basket. The two elder ladies would echo 
 Lucy's outcry ; the modish and modest man- 
 tua-maker would blush and giggle, and the 
 Colonel would then hastily effect a retreat, 
 followed by a volley of reproaches and warnings 
 not to offend in like manner again. As for 
 Lucy's own chamber, it was put under a rigor- 
 ous taboo, so that every woman and girl in the 
 household, who did not enjoy the privilege oi 
 entrance, was devoured by curiosity, and the 
 whole feminine population of "Walbury was 
 agitated by rumors of what was contained in 
 this most sacred place. At last, in the course 
 of events, the bustle of preparation invaded and 
 overran the kitchen. Then might have been 
 seen the mistress of the mansion and her trusty 
 lieutenant, the Widow Dashleigh, standing 
 with bare arms and floury faces, taking counsel 
 together, comparing notes with respect to the 
 mysterious rites and ceremonies to be observed 
 in the compounding of certain kinds of cake, 
 diligently studying together greasy manuscript 
 
 recipes, and anon giving forth their orders to 
 Jo
 
 170 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 the corps of subordinates, which consisted 
 besides an irregular volunteer force of Susan 
 Peet, and Daphne, or Aunt Daffy, as she was 
 usually called, an ancient negress, the well- 
 beloved consort of old Tite : whose reputation 
 as a most skillful cook had extended far beyond 
 the circumvallating hills which formed the 
 limit of her native Niptuck valley, and spread 
 even into the most remote corners of "VYmdham 
 county. 
 
 For three days before Thanksgiving, the 
 cavernous depths of the capacious oven were 
 in a constant glow. The broad kitchen dress- 
 ers were covered with rows of pies and loaves 
 of cake, some waiting their turn at the oven, 
 and others, which, having undergone the fiery 
 trial, had been placed there to cool and suffer 
 inspection, before being borne away to the but- 
 tery and store-room. The thumping of rolling- 
 pins, the din of pestles pounding aromatic 
 herbs and pungent spices in ringing mortars, 
 the grating of nutmegs and loaf sugar, 
 the bubbling of simmering sauces and sweet- 
 meats, and the luscious sound of eggs beaten 
 to a foam in china bowls, mingled with the ex-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 171 
 
 piring cries of chickens and turkeys, suffering 
 the pains of decapitation, at the wood-pile in 
 the back door-yard. 
 
 And, if it were not for the sufficient reasons 
 hereinbefore set forth, I might go on to relate 
 the doings of the expectant bridegroom, and of 
 his worthy parents, during this intervening 
 time. Joab experienced much relief at having 
 the annoyance and trouble of courting taken 
 off his hands by the Colonel ; and instead of 
 wasting his time, as some foolish lovers would 
 have done, in running up to hinder Lucy in 
 her preparations, as often as he could invent 
 excuses for it, he restricted his visits, as hither- 
 to, to Sunday evening calls of exemplary brevi- 
 ty. His week-day leisure he employed chiefly 
 in watching the workmen who were busy about 
 repairing the house, in which it had been ar- 
 ranged by the elders the new married couple 
 should commence the world upon their own 
 account. It was a large, gloomy, old-fashioned 
 mansion, which had lately fallen into the Dea- 
 con's possession by the foreclosure of a mort- 
 gage ; and there was a dismal air of decay and
 
 172 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 dilapidation about it, which might have been 
 the reason why Lucy, of late, could never pass 
 by it without a shudder. In many places the 
 paint was worn quite through at the edges of 
 clapboards and other exposed points ; the 
 spouts and gutters were bent awry, and choked 
 with leaves and rubbish ; one of the chimney- 
 tops had been blown off in a gale, and the 
 bricks and mortar were scattered abroad on the 
 mossy roof; the spiders had spun great cob- 
 webs on the closed window-blinds ; and there 
 was a hornets' nest of immense size that cover- 
 ed half the fan-light. The front wicket was 
 unhinged and broken, and a gravel walk ex- 
 tended from it to the door-steps, between bor- 
 ders of mildewed box and a double row of 
 scraggy poplars. But this house stood conve- 
 niently near Deacon Sweeny's own dwelling 
 and store ; there was a traditional savor of 
 gentility and rank still lurking in its damp 
 and musty apartments, because its owners and 
 residents for generations, until of late, had been 
 a family of wealth and condition ; and Mrs. 
 Axy averred, that, with a few dollars laid out
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 173 
 
 upon it in the way of general repairs, papering, 
 and painting, it would be fit for a king and 
 queen to live in. 
 
 Joab, also, had ordered a wedding suit of the 
 very tailor who had been employed to make 
 John's new raiment; and the two bundles 
 were brought out together in the post-rider's 
 wagon, and duly delivered by that functionary 
 to their respective proprietors. Even the Dea- 
 con, at the instigation of his wife, cut off, with 
 a sigh of regret, a scant pattern from a piece 
 of cheap black broadcloth ; from which, after 
 much profound calculation, the village tailor- 
 ess ingeniously contrived to construct a coat ; 
 for which service she stipulated in advance to 
 take store pay. This garment, which was a 
 master-piece of skill in the way of elaborate 
 piecing, the Deacon used to wear on Sundays 
 only, until some ten years afterwards he went 
 to meeting for the last time. Mrs. Axy bor- 
 rowed, for a day, the dressy mantua-maker from 
 Hartford, of her sister-in-law, and had fitted to 
 her spare form a gown of black silk, which was 
 so stiff that it would almost stand alone. 
 The expenses which were occasioned by thesn
 
 174: TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 and other preparations for the wedding, caused 
 the good Deacon several grievous twinges, 
 the violence of which was, however, a good 
 deal allayed by his observing that the young 
 women of the village, being moved thereto by 
 the prospect of an invitation to the wedding 
 party, increased their custom at his counter to 
 an unusual extent. Indeed, the mere profits on 
 the goods purchased by Mrs. Manners and her 
 messengers alone, he found, after a careful 
 reckoning, would more than reimburse the cost 
 of all the new wedding garments of his wife 
 and himself. 
 
 Meanwhile, Colonel Manners found frequent 
 occasion for rejoicing and self-gratulation, on 
 account of the firmness and decision which had 
 characterized his conduct on the Sunday night 
 after the reading of the governor's proclamation. 
 The salutary effect of his resolute behavior, 
 surpassed even his own hopes. He had, indeed, 
 expected obedience ; but, at the best, obedi- 
 ence rendered not without occasional tears, re- 
 pinings and fits of sullen reluctance ; whereas, 
 it came to pass that, since the time Lucy had 
 been led to her own chamber weeping and sob
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 175 
 
 bing by her mother, he had never seen her when 
 she seemed to be at all unhappy or dispirited. 
 To be sure, once or twice, he caught her looking 
 at him with a strange, apprehensive expression, 
 which he was at a loss to interpret. "The 
 child's afeard of me, poor thing," thought he, 
 with a pang , " I was a leetle too vi'lent, 
 p'raps. Well, never mind ; ef she lives she'll 
 find, I guess, that I don't love her any less than 
 her mother ; only for now, I reckon, it's best 
 to keep along pretty middlin' stiff. Ef I hadn't 
 ha' ben considerable perpendic'lar she'd ha' 
 never gi'n in so dosyle." 
 
 But though my heroine, who is going to be 
 married so soon, deserves, and must of course 
 receive, the greater share of my attention, I 
 cannot find it in my heart to forget and neglect 
 wholly my poor hero, John Dashleigh. During 
 this interval, he grew more rapidly than ever 
 in the good graces of his uncle, who could not 
 fail to observe how strenuously his head-man 
 exerted himself to win his approbation. " A 
 faithfuler cretur," said the Colonel to his wife, 
 the night before Thanksgiving, as the pair 
 were getting ready for bed ; " a faithfuler ere-
 
 176 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 tur don't live on the footstool. . He's wuth any 
 two men, on a farm, I ever see ; and that's 
 saying a good deal, for Andrew was a fust-rate 
 of a hand. Next year, by jingo, I'll give him a 
 chance that'll help him to have a farm of his 
 own, long enough before I shall want to spare 
 him. Ef anything, I do believe he tries too 
 hard to suit me, and actilly, sometimes, from 
 the boy's looks, I consait he's kind o' feard of 
 me." 
 
 " I expect," added the Colonel, after a fit of 
 musing, " I expect he feels under obligation 
 to me, for having helped his father in years 
 gone by; and it ain't, to be sure, no bad trait 
 in him ; but I declare, actilly, I do hate to 
 have anybody round a-feeling too grateful. It 
 makes a fellow feel sort o' choky and uncom- 
 fortable. And there ain't no need of his think- 
 in' he owes me anything for what's past 
 and gone, for by gracious !' wasn't John Dash- 
 leigh my brother-in-law before he was ever 
 this John's father ? and hadn't I a right to 
 help him keep out ef jail, on my own ac- 
 count?" 
 
 As the good Colonel concluded this solilo-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 177 
 
 quy, and was again gazing fixedly at the glow- 
 ing coals in the fire-place, wherein he saw, in 
 fancy, the features of the dead Sheriff Dash- 
 leigh, he was suddenly alarmed and amazed by 
 having his wife come to him in her night-cap 
 and night-gown, throw her arms about his 
 neck, and burst into a fit of passionate weep- 
 ing. 
 
 " Good Gracious ! Betsey!" he cried, as soon 
 as he could find a voice " why what on 
 airth do shet up a minit and tell me what's 
 the matter ! Have ye heerd of anybody's 
 bein' dead?" 
 
 " N-no," cried Mrs. Manners between her 
 sobs, " b-b-but " 
 
 " Well, there ! ef I ever, now !" said the 
 Colonel, as this effort at explanation resulted 
 in more incoherent utterances and renewed 
 sobs. He was, withal, somewhat incommoded 
 by the strictness of the embrace, in which his 
 wife still continued to hold him. A good- 
 natured man, like Colonel Manners, will, how- 
 ever, suffer an inconvenience of this nature, 
 to the verge of endurance, without com- 
 plaint. " Can't ye kind o' tell me what's the
 
 17S TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 matter, Betsy ?" said he at last, when the first 
 violence of the sobbing began to subside. 
 
 " You are the b-best husband in the world," 
 cried the lady, " too too g-good for me !" 
 
 " Well, well ; sposin' I be," rejoined the 
 Colonel, "that ain't nothing to cry for, sartinly. 
 Howsever, I ain't no sich a thing, and if I was 
 I ort to be ; for raly, Betsy, you're about as 
 good a wife as a man ever had !" 
 
 "You'll forgive me, won't you?" persisted 
 his wife ; " say you will !" 
 
 " Forgive you !" repeated the Colonel, " why 
 ef I've got anything to forgive, to be sure I 
 will, with all my heart ; but I ain't got nothin'. 
 There, set upon my knee, like old times you 
 know there sweetheart, there," he contin- 
 ued soothingly, as he put his arm about her 
 waist, and kissed her fondly. " You see, you've 
 worked so hard a gettin' ready for the weddin', 
 you've got all tuckered out and narvousy." 
 
 " Husband," cried Mrs. Manners, suddenly, 
 "I want you to promise me one thing that 
 whatever may happen, no matter how much 
 cause you may think you have to be angry 
 with me, you won't say a harsh or unkind
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 179 
 
 word to me, in a haste. You never have yet," 
 she continued, beginning to cry afresh, "in all 
 our living together, you never have yet : and 
 if you ever should, it would break my heart ; 
 for if either of us should be taken away, I want 
 to have it to s-say " and here the good lady 
 fairly broke down, and wept amain. 
 
 "Don't now don't don't oh! don't now!" 
 exhorted the Colonel. 
 
 "P-promise me," sobbed his wife, "you 
 won't, will you." 
 
 " Why o' course not," cried the Colonel, with 
 great emphasis, in order to conceal a sympa- 
 thetic quavering that began to infect his own 
 voice, " taint likely ahem arter we've lived 
 together nigh on to twenty-one year, that I'm 
 goin' to begin to abuse you for the fust time." 
 
 " For one great reason for my doing as I 
 have and shall," continued Mrs. Manners, " is 
 a-thinking of how much happier you'd be for 
 it, if I should die and leave you, than " 
 
 "Why! Betsey!" cried the Colonel, sorely 
 wounded by this speech, " what do you mean 
 by I'd be happier if you should die ? raly 
 that's unkind."
 
 180 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "No, no," said his wife; "I don't mean 
 that ; I mean , but I can't tell you what ; 
 to-morrow night I'll tell you or some time ; 
 I I'm sort of addled to-night, I do believe," 
 she continued, trying to smile. 
 
 "Well, well; I shouldn't wonder; you're 
 so tired," said the Colonel, kindly ; " so let's go 
 to bed and get a good night's rest, for to-mor- 
 row '11 be a busy day." 
 
 " Pretty soon," replied his wife, leaning her 
 head against his shoulder. 
 
 " Actilly," said the Colonel, after a pause, as 
 he caught a glimpse of himself and his wife 
 over her shoulder, in the looking-glass ; " any- 
 body to see us would calkilate we was a young 
 couple a sparkin' on't instead of old married 
 folks with a darter just a-goin' to be married 
 herself." 
 
 Presently Mrs. Manners kissed her husband, 
 and, jumping off from his knee, ran and got in- 
 to bed, whither the Colonel soon followed her. 
 They both lay for a long time wide awake, 
 each feigning to be asleep, and each deceived 
 by the other's artifice ; the husband wondering 
 greatly what could have been the cause of his
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 181 
 
 wife's recent emotion and singular conduct, 
 and feeling a good deal disturbed and uneasy 
 lest it might have been a presentiment of speedy 
 death. "I've heerd of sich forewarnins," 
 thought he, "but I hope that this ain't one 
 of 'em." 
 
 At last his wife, raising herself on her elbow, 
 leaned over and kissed him softly two or three 
 times. The Colonel affected to be unconscious 
 of these caresses, and kept his eyes closed; 
 though, after his wife had lain down again, 
 there came such a moisture into them that 
 he was obliged to wipe them slyly with a 
 corner of the sheet. "I shouldn't want to 
 live a minute, ef she should be taken away," 
 thought he. "Speak hash to her! I'd as soon 
 think o' puttin' my own eyes out." 
 
 But, good man, like honest Peter of old, he 
 little knew of the sore temptation that was 
 
 so soon to beset him. 
 16
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHEN Lucy awoke on the morning of Thanks- 
 giving Day, her heart gave a bound in her 
 bosom, with the shock of asudden conscious- 
 ness that her wedding day had dawned at last. 
 She dreaded to rise and begin the day in which 
 such great events and momentous changes 
 were to happen. So, as it was yet early in 
 the morning, she lay still in bed for awhile, 
 striving to realize that it was actually, veri- 
 tably true, that she, she herself, Lucy Man- 
 ners, whom she remembered but a little while 
 ago \vaking in the same chamber, and in the 
 very same little white bed, thinking how to 
 contrive a dress for a doll, or to arrange a 
 plan for spending a holiday, that was now 
 grown to be a woman, so very soon to become 
 a wife. 
 
 It is a great pity, that, because there are 
 naughty-minded people in the world some of 
 whom, by-the-by, would be the very first to 
 cry out fie it has been made necessary to
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 183 
 
 prescribe certain rules of conventional deco- 
 rum, which forbid me to tell what a charming 
 object was our dear Lucy, as she lay that 
 morning in her virgin bed for the last time, 
 while her brain was busy with these and simi- 
 lar thoughts and reminiscences, and her heart, 
 filled with an emotion of mingled hope, fear, 
 and anxiety, was fluttering in her white bosom 
 like a frightened bird in a cage. If, with an 
 author's license, I could open the door of 
 Lucy's chamber, and permit you only, my 
 pure-minded reader, to peep in and behold 
 the unsullied maiden who was its tenant, and 
 to share her innocent thoughts and fancies, 
 I should be heartily glad to accord to you the 
 privilege ; but, I know full well that some 
 prying, prudish old maid or other would be 
 sure to stand behind you on tip-toe, looking 
 over your shoulder, and then go about tattling 
 and shaking her head for a month afterwards. 
 Or, still worse, some corrupt debauchee or 
 wicked rake would steal the opportunity to 
 gaze, with gloating eyes, upon a scene too 
 holy to be polluted by his evil glance. I will
 
 184 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 not suffer such a risk, and you, my gracious 
 reader, will smile a pardon. 
 
 But there is no reason why, if anybody 
 would like to know how Joab was employed 
 on the morning of the day fixed for his wed- 
 ding, this curiosity should not be gratified. 
 Like Lucy, her expectant husband woke early, 
 and, as was not usual with him, he, too, lay 
 awhile before getting up ; for, the governor's 
 proclamation having forbidden all "vain recrea- 
 tion, business, and servile labor," upon this 
 secular Sabbath, it was not necessary to open 
 and sweep out the store before breakfast, 
 according to the usual week-day custom. The 
 reflection which, of all others, gave Joab the 
 greatest pleasure, was, that, before the dawn 
 of another day, he would be the real heir 
 apparent to all the wealth of his rich uncle, 
 the Colonel. " He ain't wuth less than a cool 
 fifty thousand," thought Joab. " Half on't, 
 certain, in money at interest and bank stock, and 
 other personal property ; two-thirds of which 
 will be mine, my own, jist as soon as the estate 
 is settled and distributed ; and if the old woman
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 185 
 
 dies, I have the whole. The use of the real 
 estate, except the widow's third, will be mine, 
 too, by law ; and I'd like to see that little pert 
 of a Lucy refuse, after the old Colonel is out 
 of the way, to sign any deed I ask her to, 
 if I please to take measures to get it all into 
 my own hands. I'll pay her for her high airs as 
 soon as Uncle Starr drops off, and her stuck- 
 up mother, too. By gosh !" said Joab aloud, 
 who hadn't the manliness to swear outright, 
 even when alone ; " by gosh ! I'm willin' the 
 old fool should live a widow a spell, and 
 have her thirds, ef she wouldn't spend the 
 principal, jest while I pay her off for the spite 
 she all us had agin me." 
 
 As Joab concluded this amiable soliloquy, 
 he heard his mother's voice calling out to him 
 at the foot of the stairs. " Come, my son," 
 cried the old lady, who was in high spirits, 
 " get up and come down right away. You 
 wont have me to call you to-morrow morning, 
 Joby." So Joab, thrusting first one long, 
 lean, spindling leg from underneath the cover- 
 let, and then its fellow, gave a yawn and a
 
 186 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 stretch, and got up. " There ain't no need o' 
 fixin' up any till after breakfast," said he ; 
 and, having put on his pantaloons and stock- 
 ings, he went to the window. It was a bright, 
 sunshiny morning, and the quiet village street 
 was as still as Sunday. There were two or 
 three red-nosed idlers grouped about the door 
 of the tavern, coughing and spitting after 
 taking their morning drams, while their lean 
 curs, too low-spirited for play, were moodily 
 exchanging growling salutations under the elm 
 tree in front, bristling their manes and scratch- 
 ing the dried herbage with their hind paws. 
 Except these no living thing appeared abroad. 
 Joab turned from the window, finished dress- 
 ing himself, hurried down to the back stoop, 
 where, after filling an iron skillet with a pint 
 of rain water from a hogshead at the corner, 
 he laved his face and hands ; finishing his 
 morning toilet by the use of one of a pair of 
 penny wooden combs, which he was accustom- 
 ed to carry in his trowsers pocket. Then he 
 went in with a good appetite to a breakfast 
 which, as it was Thanksgiving morning, was
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 187 
 
 rather more toothsome than the victuals that 
 usually were spread upon the Deacon's frugal 
 table. 
 
 In the meanwhile, John Dashleigh, rising 
 betimes, had seen to the feeding and milking 
 of his herd of cows ; had, with his own hands, 
 groomed and watered his span of black colts, 
 and had then gone in to breakfast at the 
 Colonel's table ; for Mrs. Dashleigh, during the 
 hurry of this busy Thanksgiving week, was 
 too useful a person to be spared from the 
 great house ; and so John, of late, had taken 
 all his meals there. I wonder that the Colonel 
 did not notice how both John and Lucy 
 blushed when they met each other that morn- 
 ing. As for Lucy she was as rosy as the 
 brilliant clouds that streaked the orient sky 
 beyond the hills, over whose tops the sun had 
 just risen. It was lucky for them that the 
 unsuspecting Colonel was not an astute inter- 
 preter of the signs of love ; for so plainly did 
 John's honest face reveal the secret of his 
 heart, whenever he looked towards Lucy, that 
 Mrs. Manners was in a fever of anxiety lest 
 her husband should detect it; and, as soon as
 
 188 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 breakfast was over, she took her nephew apart 
 and administered a wholesome lesson of re- 
 proof and caution. " Get ready and go to 
 meeting, out of the way, this forenoon," said 
 she, "and at dinner-time, do for the land's 
 sake, just eat your victuals and look at the 
 pictures on your plate, or anything, but don't 
 keep staring at Lucy so. Your uncle will 
 suspect something, and actually, John, it 
 scares me to see you look so as if you wanted 
 to eat her up. Ah ! John, John ; I thought 
 you were a modest, bashful boy; but, after 
 all, you've got more of your poor father about 
 you than his looks, I'm afraid." 
 
 And now, it being the eleventh hour of the 
 morning, throughout the length and breadth 
 of the Niptuck valley, throughout the county 
 of Windham withal, nay, throughout the whole 
 extent of the State of Connecticut, was heard 
 the merry sound of ringing bells ; while, borne 
 upward with the wreaths of smoke from every 
 fuming kitchen chimney-top, rose fragrant 
 steams and exhalations, so that everywhere the 
 frosty air was full of chiming melodies, and the 
 delicious odors of the oven and the spit. The
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 189 
 
 sturdy freemen of the commonwealth, banished 
 from their firesides by their busy housewives, 
 assembled at the meeting-houses; while the 
 good dames themselves remained at home, ab- 
 sorbed in culinary cares. Even Mrs. Sweeny's 
 accustomed place in her pew was that morning 
 vacant ; and, indeed, the Deacon, her husband, 
 although he started in good time, did not arrive 
 at the door of the sanctuary until the benedic- 
 tion had been pronounced by Parson Graves, 
 and the younger portion of his impatient and 
 hungry congregation had begun to effect their 
 tumultuous escape. 
 
 It happened that the Deacon, on his way to 
 meeting, while passing the tavern, had been 
 accosted by the landlord ; who, standing at the 
 bar-room door and winking with elaborate sly- 
 ness, had informed him that one Apollos Swift 
 was in the house, warming himself at the back- 
 parlor fire, and waiting to see Deacon Sweeny. 
 " I've ben a watchin' for ye, Deacon," said the 
 landlord, "for he's in a desputfret, and ye must 
 come in and see him, ef it's ony for a minute. 
 Tell ye, he's purty hard up, I guess!" 
 
 At this intelligence, the withered old muscle
 
 190 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 in Deacon Sweeny's bosom gave a flutter against 
 his ribs, and his little red eyes emitted a tran- 
 sient, twinkling gleam of satisfaction. Apollos 
 Swift was a spendthrift jockey farmer, residing 
 in the neighboring county town, whose neces- 
 sities had often compelled him, from time to 
 time, to borrow money from the Deacon ; and, 
 in fact, whose present errand in Walbury was 
 to effect still another loan, and to secure its 
 repayment by still another mortgage upon his 
 homestead farm, already pledged to Deacon 
 Sweeny for nearly half its worth. The Deacon 
 had, for some time, been expecting this final 
 application ; and, indeed, had put aside a suffi- 
 cient sum of money wherewith to meet it. 
 "Another five hundred," thought he, as he 
 counted over the roll of bills, and laid it away 
 in a snug pigeon hole of his desk, " another five 
 hundred and Swift '11 be in tu deep ever tu git 
 out again. Let the interest run a spell, and 
 then, some time, when times are purty tight, 
 jest foreclose, and the fust anybody knows, I'll 
 have a farm in Windham that won't ha' cost 
 me but a little more'n half what I can git for't. " 
 So, though the bell had already begun to toll,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 191 
 
 the Deacon turned aside, and followed the 
 landlord into the bar-room. "I shall jest have 
 to go in I s'pose," said he to the publican, 
 " and tell the feller I can't do no business 
 to-day, though, to be sure, arter all, 'tain't as 
 ef 'twas Sunday exactly; and talking over 
 business, when you don't do none, ain't neither 
 servile labor, nor vain recreation." 
 
 U 0h! of course 'tain't!" said the landlord, 
 opening the door to the back-parlor, whereby 
 Mr. Apollos Swift was discovered, with his feet 
 cocked upon the top of the fire-frame, and with 
 his head thrown back, in the act of draining 
 the last dregs of a monstrous mug of flip. 
 When, more than an hour afterwards, the back- 
 parlor door was again opened, and Deacon 
 Sweeny came forth to resume his walk towards 
 the meeting-house, he had promised Apollos 
 Swift to lend him, upon the morrow, another 
 five hundred dollars, and had furthermore stipu- 
 lated and agreed to sell, and convey to him, 
 by proper and legal conveyances and assur- 
 ances in the law, for the consideration of fifty 
 dollars, cash, to be paid in hand, two roods of 
 land ; the same being six building lots, each
 
 192 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 duly numbered, fronting upon Main street, in 
 the city of Sweenopolis, which at that time, as 
 at the present writing, consisted of an exten- 
 sive ledge of rocks, pleasantly situated upon 
 the western slope of the Alleghany Mountains, 
 in the ancient commonwealth of Virginia, dis- 
 tant, at least, twenty miles from any dwelling 
 of civilized man, and densely populated by an 
 active, thriving population of ten thousand 
 rattlesnakes. The tract of five hundred acres, 
 upon which the city of Sweenopolis w r as laid 
 out, the Deacon had, at first, taken in payment 
 of a bad debt. Nevertheless, it had proved +o 
 be a most valuable piece of property. He pro 
 cured the school-master to make a plan of 
 the city, and after that few people borrowed 
 money of Deacon Sweeny, who were not, at 
 the same time, persuaded to invest a small por- 
 tion of the loan in the purchase of a building 
 lot. An old saddle, that before that time 
 always lay under the desk, and which had been 
 sold over and over, five hundred times, at all 
 sorts of prices, was removed, a worthless piece 
 of lumber, to the garret, and was never sold 
 again. But the gossips said, that ten years
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 193 
 
 later, when Apollos Swift finally gave up the 
 ghost, a drunken pauper in Windhara poor- 
 house, he was the owner in fee simple of two 
 acres of land, which lay in the very heart of 
 the city of Sweenopolis, adjoining the public 
 square. 
 
 Deacon Sweeny and Mr. Swift had been so 
 very busy arranging the terms and conditions 
 of these several inchoate contracts, that the 
 time had slipped by unheeded. Besides, Par- 
 son Graves, with the prospect before him of a 
 Thanksgiving dinner, was not so lengthy in 
 prayer and sermon as of a Sunday. When, 
 therefore, the Deacon, after a hasty walk, 
 arrived in sight of the meeting-house, and beheld 
 the people thronging out from the porch, he 
 was struck dumb with amazement and terror 
 as well he might have been, indeed, for a rea- 
 son which the reader will presently discover. 
 His neighbors eyed his disordered looks with 
 wonder; and some, as they met him, turned to 
 gaze ; while others, speaking, bade him good 
 morning. But he, answering either not at all, 
 or with the briefest form of salutation, pressed 
 
 forward towards the meeting-house door with- 
 17
 
 194 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 out stopping, until he came to the very step- 
 stone whereon stood Parson Graves, who had 
 just put on his cocked hat as he came forth. 
 "Parson Graves!" gasped the Deacon, who 
 was almost breathless with disquiet and haste, 
 "can't ye jest call a few of the people back, 
 and open the meetin' agin, for jest a single 
 minute ?" 
 
 " For what reason, I pray to know, Deacon 
 Sweeny?" inquired the Parson, in great sur- 
 prise at this singular request. 
 
 "Jest call 'em back!" cried the Deacon, 
 imploringly " or stay; I will hello there! 
 Cap'n Brown, I say Leftenant Jones and a 
 lot on ye here hello ! corne back !" 
 
 " Deacon Sweeny, " said Parson Graves, 
 "pray cease this unseemly outcry. It is too 
 late to recall the congregation, who have been 
 dismissed to their homes." 
 
 " Oh, dear !" cried the Deacon, giving way 
 to despair, while a few of his wondering neigh- 
 bors, attracted by his shouts, returned and 
 gathered about him, making eager inquiries 
 concerning the cause of his distress. "Oh, 
 dear ! dear ! here I've got in my pocket my son
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 195 
 
 Joab's publishment, which ort tu have been 
 read from the pulpit this mornin', and the 
 weddin's set for to-night !" 
 
 " Creation !" whispered Captain Brown to 
 Lieutenant Jones; "I guess the Deacon's wife 
 '11 be on eend when she larns how 'tis." 
 
 "And the Colonel!" replied the Captain; 
 "wont he rare, though, when he hears on't? " 
 
 "Tut, tut, tut!" said Parson Graves, with 
 lively sympathy; "what a pity ! How came it 
 to pass, Deacon, that you were not at meeting 
 in season to hand me the document, so that it 
 might have been read from the desk, according 
 to law and the custom in such cases ?" 
 
 "There's John Dashleigh!" cried a by- 
 stander; "jest holler and call him back, and 
 send for the Colonel. He'll know what to do, 
 if anybody doos." 
 
 "Truly a very sensible and timely sugges- 
 tion, " said the Parson, who, like everybody else 
 in the parish, had a great opinion of Colonel 
 Manners' wisdom. " Call out to the young man 
 to return hither some one who has the requisite 
 strength of voice." 
 
 "Hello o o! here! John Dashleigh!
 
 196 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 come back!" shouted half adozen pairs of 
 vigorous lungs the feeble pipe of Deacon 
 Sweeny joining in the chorus. 
 
 At hearing himself thus vociferously called, 
 John turned back and retraced his steps to the 
 porch of the meeting-house, wondering what 
 could be the cause of such an unusual outcry. 
 
 "Mr. John Dashleigh," said the Parson, 
 " you will grieve to be informed that, by a most 
 unfortunate omission of a requisite and whole- 
 some formality, the wedding of your cousin 
 Lucy and young Joab Sweeny must be post- 
 poned." 
 
 "Oh, no!" whispered the Deacon, with 
 terror-blanched lips. 
 
 "At least, such, I fear, must be the result of 
 what has happened, " resumed the Parson. 
 "Your uncle, being not only learned in the 
 law, but the father of the intended bride, ought 
 to be informed of the untoward event, and con- 
 sulted with concerning it and its consequences. 
 Will you be so good, therefore, as to hasten 
 home and communicate the news to him, pri- 
 vately, I should advise ; and also request him, in 
 my name, to come immediately to my house,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 197 
 
 where Deacon Sweeny and myself will wait to 
 see him. I think," added the Parson, with a 
 quiet smile, "that we had better not go to 
 your house, Deacon, until we have first taken 
 counsel with the Colonel." 
 
 "Oh, by no means!" cried the Deacon, 
 eagerly. 
 
 John received the message and hastened 
 home, where, first having seen his aunt Betsy 
 and told her of what had happened, he sought 
 the Colonel in his bedroom, where he sat read- 
 ing the newspaper and waiting for dinner, and 
 delivered his errand. 
 
 The Colonel heard the news with manifest 
 concern. He dropped his paper, and gave a 
 prolonged whistle. "Deacon forgot it, eh?" 
 said he. 
 
 " Yes," replied John ; " so I understood." 
 
 " Whew ! and wont Axy all but bust when 
 she finds it out ! Actilly, 'tain't best to tell 
 her ; the Deacon, raly, wouldn't be safe ; she'd 
 take his pelt, I du believe. I tell ye, John," 
 continued his uncle, after a thoughtful pause, 
 "you jest keep your own counsel, and I'll run 
 right up to the Parson's. 'Tain't so bad as it
 
 198 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 might be; though, if the women get holt on't, 
 it'll make some trouble, mebby. I'll jest take 
 a look at the statoot, and see percizely what 
 the law is on this point, and then I'll go right 
 along. But, publishment or no publishment, 
 them two must be married to-night. I've set 
 my heart on't, as I've told ye more'n once; 
 and, besides, I've swore to't, and it's got to 
 be." 
 
 So saying, the Colonel took down his well- 
 thumbed copy of the Kevised Statutes, opened 
 at the index, then turned to the chapter entitled 
 "An Act for the due and orderly celebrating 
 of Marriage," and brought all the force of his 
 intellect to bear upon the question of the con- 
 struction and true interpretation, intent and 
 meaning of the clause which prescribed that, 
 "no person shall be joined in marriage, before 
 the purpose or intention of the parties proceed- 
 ing therein hath been sufficiently published in 
 some public meeting or congregation, on the 
 Lord's Day, or some public fast, thanksgiving, 
 or lecture day, in the parish or society where 
 the parties, or either of them, do ordinarily re- 
 side."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 199 
 
 In the mean time, Lieutenant Jones, whose 
 dwelling was the next door to Deacon Sweeny's, 
 had hurried home, and told the important news 
 to his wife ; and that worthy lady, leaving the 
 care of the roast to a little black girl, lost no 
 time in going, by the back way, to her neigh- 
 bors, and imparting to Mrs. Sweeny and 
 Joab the astounding intelligence which so 
 nearly concerned them. It was in consequence 
 of this act of neighborly kindness, that Lieu- 
 tenant Jones's household were, that day, forced 
 to dine on chicken pie ; the little black girl 
 having proved unworthy of the trust reposed 
 in her by her too confiding mistress, and the 
 subject matter of the trust itself, to wit, a 
 fat and tender twelve-pound spring turkey, 
 having been suffered to burn upon the spit, 
 until it was nothing but a crisped and black- 
 ened cinder. 
 
 Though she afterwards attempted, on many 
 an occasion, to describe the rage of Mrs. Sweeny 
 at hearing of the Deacon's default and its dire- 
 ful effect, Mrs. Jones was never able to do the 
 matter full justice, as she was wont freely to 
 confess ; albeit she was a woman of fluent
 
 200 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 speech, and not a little vain of her gift in that 
 respect, withal. Her own subsequent fit of 
 anger, at beholding the charred remains of the 
 unfortunate turkey afore-mentioned, although 
 it struck the deepest terror into the heart of 
 the negligent little black wench, and, indeed, 
 appalled even the brave militia-man, her hus- 
 band, was, in comparison, but an ordinary 
 South-easter to a West Indian hurricane. 
 What Mrs. Jones's ready tongue repeatedly 
 failed to accomplish, my feeble pen shall not 
 attempt to perform. 
 
 When the first furious gust of her indigna- 
 tion had spent itself, and had given place to 
 fierce but less violent blasts of wrathful emo- 
 tion, Mrs. Sweeny seized her bonnet and 
 shawl, and, followed by Joab, started forth- 
 with, at a rapid pace, for Colonel Manners' 
 house, whither, as she supposed, her guilty 
 husband had fled for refuge. The Parson and 
 the Deacon, waiting for the Colonel's corning, 
 saw her through the windows of the parsonage 
 parlor, as she went trooping by, and knew 
 then that the rumor had reached her ears. 
 The Deacon turned livid and shivered in his
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 201 
 
 shoes, but the wiser Parson took heart and 
 comforted his trembling parishioner. " The 
 worst is over," said he ; " such violent physi- 
 cal exercise will not fail to carry off and, as it 
 were, allay the superfluity of her mental irri- 
 tation. I think, therefore, that, as my dinner 
 is not yet ready, we had better go up to the 
 Colonel's also ; for otherwise it is plain that 
 we shall not now see him. 
 
 So it happened, that when Colonel Manners, 
 after turning down a leaf at the act aforesaid 
 concerning Marriage, returned the Revised 
 Statutes to it splace on the shelf, and, putting 
 on his hat, had got as far as the mouth of the 
 lane, on his way to the Parson's, he beheld his 
 sister, the Deacon's wife, bearing down towards 
 him with incredible swiftness, with Joab follow- 
 ing closely in her wake ; and, in the distance, 
 he descried the Parson and Deacon Sweeny, 
 hovering at a safe interval astern, while, all 
 along the street, the neighbors, standing at 
 their doors, watched from afar the progress of 
 the squadron. 
 
 " Well ! there !" said the Colonel, in a de- 
 spairing tone, as he came to a halt, and taking
 
 202 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 off his hat rubbed his scalp in great perplexity : 
 " now ef there ain't a going to be a time, I own 
 I never see one !" 
 
 As soon as Mrs. Sweeny reached the place 
 where her brother was standing, bareheaded, 
 she forthwith essayed to speak ; but the tumult 
 of her emotions, together with the extreme 
 velocity of her pace, had well nigh deprived 
 her of all power to use that unruly member of 
 her body, for the usual vigor of which she was 
 so justly remarkable. She was able only to 
 gasp forth a few fragments of exceedingly 
 abusive a a nd calumnious epithets, reference 
 thereby being had to her husband, Deacon 
 Sweeny. This unwonted impotence on the part 
 of the lady gave her brother an unexpected 
 advantage, which he did not fail to improve. "I 
 declare," said he, addressing her with great 
 asperity, "ye act more like a dumb fool than 
 ever I knew ye to;" which was, indeed, the 
 exact truth ; although, to be sure, the Colonel 
 did not use the adjective in its ordinary and 
 literal sense, but chose it to qualify the noun, 
 on account of its innocent similarity iii sound 
 to a more profane word. "Here ye are," he
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 203 
 
 continued, "a racing down here like a ravin' 
 distracted cretur got out o' Bedlam; and the 
 upshot on't '11 be that ye'll stir up Betsey and 
 Lucy, and frighten 'em about the publishment, 
 when, ef ye'd ha' just kep away, they'd ha' 
 never known on't till arterwards, and no harm 
 done. And you, too, Joab ; what do you mean 
 by tearin' along the street arter this fashion, 
 with all the neighbors a lookin' on, a wonderin' 
 and makin' fun. You ort to know better. I 
 declare, you put me out of all consait with 
 ye!" 
 
 "And where's the Deacon?" cried Mrs. 
 Sweeny, who, by this time, had recovered 
 breath enough to speak ; " where is he ; the 
 ridic'lous, forgetful, good-for-nothin,' onnateral 
 old ." 
 
 "Now do you jest come in here !" muttered 
 the Colonel through his closed teeth, as he 
 suddenly griped his sister by the arm, and 
 walked her before him through the gate out of 
 the street. 
 
 " Ow-ah let me alone !" cried Mrs. Sweeny. 
 But the Colonel had grown desperate. He 
 tightened his grip, and gave his sister a shake
 
 204 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 or two that set her teeth a chattering. " I tell 
 ye," said he, in a low, determined tone, 'ef ye 
 open yer head to let out on't any of yer spite- 
 ful slang agin yer husband, or anybody else, I'll 
 
 be d d ef I don't give ye what he'd ort to 
 
 gi'n years ago, by gracious ! I will, ef it costs 
 a string o' lawsuits ! So shet up yer mouth !" 
 he added, shaking his head threateningly, as he 
 let go his hold upon her arm, "and don't let 
 me hear a crooked word out on't." 
 
 Mrs. Sweeny was, for once in her life, pretty 
 thoroughly cowed ; and, at this moment, greatly 
 to her surprise, her husband and Parson Graves 
 appeared at the gate ; but the virago, into 
 whose heart the Colonel's threat had struck a 
 wholesome terror, dared not open her lips to 
 revile the Deacon, especially as he was in the 
 company of the Parson. 
 
 " Mornin', Parson ; rnornin', Deacon," cried 
 the Colonel, trying to assume a manner of 
 smiling indifference. " Come in, Deacon ; don't 
 be afraid, your wife and I have heerd all about 
 it. There ain't much harm done, I guess." 
 
 "And what can be done, Colonel Manners'?" 
 inquired the Parson, coming forward, while the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 205 
 
 Deacon, shrinking at the sight of the blazing 
 fury which flashed from his wife's eyes, still 
 hung in the rear. 
 
 " Jest come into the house and we'll talk it 
 all over," replied the Colonel, leading the way ; 
 but, at the same time, casting backward a 
 glance of warning at his sister. 
 
 As soon as the whole party were seated in 
 the bedroom, the Colonel went to seek his 
 wife, who was not far off, having, from the 
 window of Lucy's chamber, beheld, with ex- 
 ultation, the victory which her husband had 
 gained over Mrs. Sweeny. He found her upon 
 the stairs, and briefly communicated to her the 
 intelligence of which she had already been in- 
 formed by John Dashleigh. 
 
 ' Good gracious me !" cried Mrs. Manners, 
 with well-feigned surprise, " and there's all the 
 invitations to the wedding have been sent, and 
 a good many are comin' from out o' town. 
 What on earth's to be done?" 
 
 " Now, Betsey," said the Colonel, taking his 
 wife by the hand, " I'm dreftully perplexed ; 
 and I beg on ye to be a reasonable woman, as 
 
 you can be well enough, if ye'r only a mind to. 
 IS
 
 206 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 Don't go to bein' sot and def to argyment, as 
 women will be sometimes. You know I have 
 swore a solemn oath that this weddin' has got 
 to take place to-night. I nyther want to break 
 my oath or to have a fuss a keepin' on't with 
 you or Lucy." 
 
 " But to be married without a publishment," 
 said Mrs. Manners, in a tone of gentle remon- 
 strance. 
 
 " Betsey !" cried the Colonel, a little impa- 
 tiently, " you know you've seen me marry, 
 fust and last, a hull barn-yard full of couples, 
 that probably had never been published. But 
 come, there's the Parson, Axy, Joab, and the 
 Deacon, all a waitin' down in the bedroom to 
 hear my opinion about the matter, I'm a goin' 
 to read 'em the law, and explain upon't. Jest 
 come along, and ef ye'r only reasonable I'll 
 satisfy you all." 
 
 The Colonel was evidently sadly bothered 
 and annoyed, and his wife, who loved him with 
 all her heart, said nothing more to add to his 
 vexation. " I'm willing, husband," said she, 
 pressing his hand, " that if your heart is set 
 upon it, your oath should be fulfilled to-night ;
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 207 
 
 only it's natural to feel sorry to have our only 
 child married like a girl that's run away with, 
 without being first published." 
 
 "I know it, Betsey," said the Colonel, 
 " but it can't be helped." 
 
 So Mrs. Manners, without further remark, 
 followed her husband into the bedroom, where 
 the others were waiting. The Deacon felt 
 greatly relieved at their arrival, which was, 
 indeed, for him most opportune ; for even the 
 reverend presence of Parson Graves would not 
 have availed much longer to have made Mrs. 
 Sweeny keep the peace toward her husband. 
 As soon as the usual greetings had been ex- 
 changed between Mrs. Manners and the visit- 
 ors, the Colonel took down the statute-book 
 again, and opened at the place where the leaf 
 was turned down. 
 
 " We all know that the usual form of publi- 
 cation of intention has been omitted," said 
 Parson Graves, looking at his watch, and think- 
 ing of his dinner. " Let us lose no time in 
 deciding what is to be done, with respect to 
 the wedding, which, otherwise, would have 
 been celebrated to-night. Joab, you are one
 
 208 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 of the parties most interested. Are you will- 
 ing that the ceremony should .be postponed 
 until another week, in order that due notice 
 may be given next Sabbath-day from the 
 pulpit?" 
 
 Now Joab's mind, during his hurried walk, 
 and while he had been waiting in the bedroom, 
 had been greatly exercised and disturbed by a 
 most distressing doubt. In a word, he feared 
 that the validity of his prospective rights, as a 
 husband, in his intended wife's estate, might, 
 perhaps, be affected and impaired by a non- 
 compliance with all the requirements of the 
 law. " For my part," said he, wriggling in his 
 chair, as he replied to Parson Graves' question, 
 "I should like to know whether it's legal in 
 every point to go on. If it ain't legal every 
 way and I don't see how it can be I must 
 say I'd rather wait. I ain't in no sich a hurry 
 as to want to break the law." 
 
 "Humph!" said the Colonel, regarding his 
 nephew with a look of contempt, as he con- 
 cluded his reply, " ye'r purty cool-headed, and 
 cool-blooded though, for a man of your age, in 
 your sittywashun."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 209 
 
 " I'm sure," said the Parson, " I admire the 
 caution and prudence which the young man 
 evinces. If it is not legal to proceed, I cannot 
 perform the ceremony." 
 
 The Colonel shook his head as a warning to 
 his sister, who, with difficulty, restrained her 
 wrath. " The weddin'," said he, slowly, and 
 still looking at the discomfited Joab with scorn- 
 ful anger; "the weddin' ither takes place to- 
 night or never. I've a fust rate reason for 
 bein' sot and posityve, and I mean jest what I 
 say. Ef Joab aint a-mind to be married to my 
 
 / / 
 
 darter, I aint a goin' to urge him ; and ef Par- 
 son Graves wants to have it said that his pa- 
 rishioners had to send out for a minister to act 
 at a weddin', well and good ; I've nothin' 
 more to say, jest now, on that pint." 
 
 " Of course " began Joab. 
 
 "As for the matter of its bein' accordin' to 
 law, I don't suppose it is, strickly speakin'," 
 continued the Colonel, unmindful of the inter- 
 ruption. " I'll jest read and explain what's said 
 on that pint. You see, Parson," he added, 
 after having read from the book which he held
 
 210 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 in his hand, " you see the statoot pervides that 
 no person shall be jined in wedlock, without 
 they've fust ben published in a sartin manner 
 pinted out. Well, that looks, to be sure, at 
 fust sight, as if it meant to say no publishment, 
 no jinin' but 'tain't so, and it don't mean so ; 
 for the third section here pervides, that, ef any 
 justice or minister shall jine any person in 
 marriage shall JINE any person in marriage," 
 he repeated with increased emphasis, and look- 
 ing up over his spectacles at the Parson, " with- 
 out being fust published, they shall pay a fine of 
 sixty-seven dollars. Now jest look at the argy- 
 ment. You see it's plain that when persons are 
 married without bein' published, they're ither 
 jined or they ain't jined. Ef they are jined, 
 why they are jined, and that's all that's 
 wanted, and ef they ain't jined they ain't jined, 
 and that third section is all nym and doll, don't 
 mean nothin', and can't be broke ; and ef that's 
 the case, what on airth did the Legislator put 
 it into the law for ? But you see it does mean 
 suthin', and can be broke, and it follers that 
 persons can be jined in marriage, who hain't
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 211 
 
 ben published ; only them that performs the 
 ceremony and doos jine' em, breaks the law in 
 so doin', and is liable to pay the penalty." 
 
 Here the Colonel paused, and, having got a 
 little heated, he took off his spectacles and 
 wiped his forehead with his bandanna. 
 
 "Jest so," said Mrs. Sweeny, to whom, 
 nevertheless, the Colonel's exposition of the 
 meaning of the statute had been wholly in- 
 comprehensible. "It's asp lain as print that it's 
 all exactly accordin' to the law." 
 
 " I think I understand your argument, Colo- 
 nel," said the Parson, who had listened atten- 
 tively, sitting, meanwhile, very straight and 
 upright in his chair, with his hands resting on 
 the top of his cane standing between his knees, 
 his eyebrows and chin a little elevated, and his 
 head cocked thoughtfully to one side. " Allow 
 me to see the book," he added, putting on his 
 spectacles "ah! yes section third um-m 
 any minister um-m-shall pay sixty-seven dol- 
 lars um one moiety um-m and so forth : 
 yes, Colonel, I think you're right; and, with 
 respect to the fine " 
 
 "Why! of course, you wont lose nothin' in
 
 212 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 that way !" cried the Colonel with great em- 
 phasis " the Deacon and I will stand in that 
 gap, if need be; hey, Deacon?" 
 
 " Y-yes, of course," replied Deacon Sweeny, 
 under the strait duress of his wife's glance. 
 
 " I'd be willin' to give twice the money, jest 
 to see the feller that 'ud dare to prosecute," 
 cried the Colonel, smiting the table with his 
 fist. 
 
 "Nevertheless," remarked the Parson, "I 
 must confess I like not the idea of infracting 
 the law of the land, even when I may do so 
 with impunity. It becomes not those to whom 
 authority is entrusted to use it in a manner 
 which is by law forbidden." 
 
 "Well, Parson," said the Colonel; "as for 
 that, I suppose I'm in authority as much as you 
 be ; and, though as a ginral thing I intend to 
 be a law-abidin' man, which I ort to be as a 
 citizen and a freeman, and partic'larly as a 
 magistrate, I'd as lief as not tell ye that I ex- 
 pect I've broke this identical statoot more'n 
 fifty times. Ef a couple looks old enough to 
 have a right to be married as they please, I 
 jine' em without bein' too curous."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 213 
 
 "Is it possible!" cried the Parson; "and 
 that's the secret of the reason why young people 
 from beyond the line seek your house so much 
 more frequently than mine, as I have heard?" 
 
 " Egzackly," replied the Colonel, with a 
 shrewd smile ; " now you've found it out, you'll 
 be gettin' my business away from me now 
 you've larnt the trick of my trade : and a pretty 
 good business it is, too, about this time o' year. 
 Last Thanksgivin' night, when we got home 
 from Andrew's and Sally's weddin', up to the 
 Deacon's here, you rec'lect, we found two 
 couple a waitin' to be jined ; didn't we, Betsey ? 
 and I jined 'em, too; though I hain't no more 
 idee they was published, than I have they was 
 Hindoos not a bit." 
 
 Encouraged by these precedents, Parson 
 Graves no longer hesitated ; but, in reply to a 
 straightforward inquiry, propounded by Mrs. 
 Sweeny, signified his willingness to officiate at 
 the ceremony, by which Joab and Lucy were 
 to be made one flesh, notwithstanding the 
 omission of the public notice of intention. 
 
 This announcement seemed to give universal 
 satisfaction to everybody present. The Dea-
 
 214 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 con's heart, especially, was thereby lightened 
 of a heavy load, and he experienced at once a 
 remarkable exaltation of spirits. His wife, too, 
 was rendered so good-natured, for the time 
 being, that she even smiled grimly when Par- 
 son Graves, with a dry humor peculiar to him- 
 self, described the Deacon's dismay at the 
 meeting-house porch door. But Joab, in spite 
 of the cheerful demeanor which he thought it 
 wise to assume, was still secretly uneasy. 
 " Law's so full o' ketches," said he to himself, 
 "and Uncle Starr, with all his knowledge, 
 hain't learnt 'em all by considerable." So, 
 while the rest of the company were listening 
 to Parson Graves, he picked up the sheepskin- 
 covered book from the table, and slyly read 
 every section of the statute concerning mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Though stoutly pressed to stay to dinner, 
 the visitors, one and all, excused themselves, 
 and shortly afterwards departed in a body, 
 Parson Graves and Joab leading the way, and 
 the Deacon and his wife following after, arm in 
 arm, in what seemed to be a very lovingly 
 conjugal style. So the neighbors, hurrying to
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 215 
 
 the windows as they passed by, knew by this 
 token that the wedding was not to be post- 
 poned ; for, as Mrs. Ensign Vickars shrewdly 
 remarked, if harm had come of the Deacon's 
 heedlessness, he never would have dared to 
 trust himself so near to his wife upon the same 
 day.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AT last, the brief November's day came to 
 its close, and the sun, which, during the after- 
 noon, had been shining with a pale luster, 
 through a thin veil of fleecy clouds, blazed 
 forth round, red, and bright, just before he dis- 
 appeared beyond the steep southwestern hills, 
 leaving behind him the sunset sky, glowing 
 with a lustrous apple-green tint, streaked 
 with long trailing clouds of rose and flame 
 color, which, after awhile, faded slowly until 
 their gorgeous hues were changed to purple 
 and sober gray. The night set in clear and 
 cold, with a fresh, keen, bracing northwestern 
 gale blowing down the valley, and whistling 
 among the naked, swaying branches of the 
 button-woods and elms. The stars came out, 
 sparkling like frosty particles in the deep blue- 
 black sky; but, even brighter than they, the 
 gleaming windows of the Manners mansion 
 shone forth like beacons into the moonless 
 night ; and even the yards in the rear were
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 217 
 
 illuminated by the flash and glare of lanterns, 
 carried in the hands of old Tite and his staff 
 of helpers, who, as the numerous wedding 
 guests arrived, led away their horses to the 
 sheds and stables, there to feast at plenteous 
 mangers full of newly-threshed oats, and well- 
 stuffed racks of sweet and savory hay. 
 
 Meantime, all within doors was humming 
 like a hive. There was not a household in 
 all the Niptuck valley, however poor and 
 humble, which had not there present at least 
 its one representative member, either in the 
 parlor or the kitchen; and, from the neigh- 
 boring towns, cousins and friends had come 
 to swell the throng of merry guests, with 
 which, spacious as it was, the old house 
 seemed full to overflowing. The greater num- 
 ber were gathered in the best room, waiting 
 for the expected appearance of the bride and 
 bridegroom elect. But Lucy, in her chamber, 
 was still under the hands of the dressy man- 
 tua-maker ; while the bridesmaids, admitted, 
 by virtue of their office, to behold the spec- 
 tacle of the toilette, stood by, making vain 
 
 and unheeded offers of assistance, and at times 
 19
 
 218 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 breaking forth into enthusiastic expressions of 
 admiration at the rare loveliness of the mute 
 and trembling bride, the beauty and costliness 
 of her attire, and the wonderful genius and 
 skill of the fashionable mantua-maker. 
 
 Joab and the groomsmen, in another cham- 
 ber, awaited with impatience the summons to 
 join the bridal train, beguiling the tedium of 
 delay by frequent admiring surveys of their 
 own images reflected in the mirror, and by 
 watching from the window each new arrival, 
 and the out-door commotion excited thereby. 
 Joab himself, of course, formed the principal 
 figure of this sprucely-attired group. He was 
 dressed in the new suit constructed for the 
 occasion by the city tailor ; a black swallow- 
 tailed coat, a white sprigged vest, and dove- 
 colored trowsers of fine kerseymere, so short 
 as to leave exposed his thick and clumsy 
 ankles, covered by white silk stockings. His 
 bony hands were encased in white kid gloves, 
 and a stiff, tight, white cravat encircled in its 
 strict folds his lean and scraggy throat. The 
 little that was left of his hair above his fore- 
 head was brushed stiffly upwards, and his long
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 219 
 
 earlocks, which whilome were wont to hang 
 straight adown his cheeks, were curled and 
 frizzled into knots like rosettes above each red 
 and shapeless ear. Thus arrayed, Joab's heart 
 beat beneath his ruffled shirt-front with a gen- 
 erous emotion, longing for the moment to 
 arrive when others, as well as himself, might 
 be gratified and delighted by gazing at so 
 splendid a spectacle as he saw and felt him- 
 self to be. 
 
 In the kitchen were assembled a score of 
 the negro population of the valley, a merry, 
 jolly crew, listening, though with many noisy 
 interj ectional exclamations of delight and ap- 
 plause, to the tuning of a venerable fiddle, 
 which Primus Ball, Aunt Daffy's ante-nuptial 
 son, had brought with him to furnish the 
 music for the expected country dance ; while 
 Aunt Daffy herself, with Mrs. Dashleigh and 
 Susan, was busy in the dining-room, giving 
 the finishing touches to the array set out 
 upon the long table, in the center of which 
 the great bride's loaf, covered with glittering 
 frosting, loomed up in the midst like some tall 
 mountain top mantled with eternal snows.
 
 220 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 The mistress of the house and her nephew, 
 John Dashleigh, were nowhere to be seen ; 
 but in the great parlor the good Colonel, gor- 
 geously attired in a blue coat with brilliant 
 gilt buttons, drab breeches, and a buff vest of 
 military cut, almost hidden by the ruffle of 
 his shirt, stood talking with Judge Slow, of 
 Windham, near by where Deacon Sweeny and 
 his wife were seated, each silently remember- 
 ing the evening on which, five-and-twenty 
 years before, the same old apartment had been 
 the scene of their own wedding festivities. 
 There was the same wide, cavernous, old- 
 fashioned fire-place, in which then, as now, 
 a burning pile of seasoned hickory-wood sent 
 a roaring blaze far up into the huge throat of 
 the chimney flue, illuminating the room with 
 a ruddy glow, which even the brilliant but 
 paler light of the numerous candles could not 
 wholly overpower. There were the same 
 high-backed chairs, the same bow-legged, 
 claw-footed tables, but grown darker in color 
 with increased age ; the same corner cup- 
 board, revealing through its glazed door trea- 
 sures of ancient silver heir-looms and old-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 221 
 
 fashioned painted china; and there were a 
 few among the gray-haired people present 
 who had been brisk and jocund guests at the 
 former wedding feast. A sigh escaped from 
 the flinty heart of Mrs. Sweeny, and fluttered 
 through between her thin and wrinkled lips, 
 as she recalled to mind the time when the 
 withered old man at her side had been a bride- 
 groom, not ill-favored in her eyes, and she her- 
 self had figured bravely as a young and comely 
 bride. Even the Deacon sighed, also, as he 
 thought regretfully of the years that had iped 
 their flight since his wedding-day, though each 
 one had left behind it at least a thousand dol- 
 lars increase to his hoard of wealth. 
 
 As for the rest of the company, with few 
 exceptions, they were as gay and canty as 
 such usually staid people ever permit them- 
 selves to be. Each guest, upon his or her ar- 
 rival, had been invited to partake of the steam- 
 ing contents of an immense china punch-bowl, 
 of ancient shape and pattern, that usually 
 occupied a place in the corner cupboard, but 
 which now stood upon a buffet in the hall, 
 and was kept replenished with hot and well-
 
 222 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 spiced brandy-sling. The men, of course, each 
 drank his glassful, and of the ladies there was 
 not, (after a little coy hesitation and renewed 
 pressing,) a single one that refused to comply 
 with the hospitable invitation. It is not won- 
 derful that the guests, already full of the dain- 
 ties of a Thanksgiving dinner, what with the 
 potent sling, the excitement of the occasion, 
 and the pleasant anticipations of further good 
 cheer, were complacent, good humored, and 
 abundantly disposed to be soberly merry. The 
 youeg women were ready to blush and giggle 
 at every thing which the young fellows said 
 or did ; who, on their part, were inspired to 
 titter a great many gallant speeches, and to 
 do a variety of smart things, the very thought 
 of which, at another time, would have appalled 
 them into a state of dumb and stupid bash- 
 fulness. Ichabod Pettigrew, when with a heart 
 as tender and impressible as ever palpitated in 
 any shepherd's bosom, was yet, for all that, a 
 bachelor at the mature age of five-and-thirty, 
 only because he had never dared to ask a 
 young woman for her company, did, that night, 
 venture to squeeze the fat little fingers of Hul-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 223 
 
 dah Pritchard's left hand ; a gentle pressure, 
 which Huldah gently and considerately re- 
 turned. And though aforetime she had been 
 heard frequently to ridicule Ichabod's uncouth 
 appearance and awkward deportment, and to 
 express her wonder as to whom he would ever 
 get to have him, it, nevertheless, came to pass 
 that, a year from that very night, Huldah was 
 not only the lawful wedded wife of this same 
 Ichabod Pettigrew, but was also the proud 
 and happy mother of another mortal bearing 
 the same name. Aholiab Fenn, who, next to 
 Andrew Bunn, was reputed to have the droll- 
 est speech of any man in town, was that 
 night funnier than ever ; nay, funnier than 
 even Andrew himself, whom marriage and 
 family cares had sobered somewhat, and kept 
 the little group in the corner, of which he 
 was the center, in a constant titter of laughter. 
 The new district schoolmaster, too, rejoicing 
 in the prospect of the fat living by which 
 Thanksgiving week was likely to be distin- 
 guished, forgot, nay stooped from the dignity 
 of his station, and walked about the room, with 
 his hand under his coat-tails, smiling grimly,
 
 224 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 and sometimes even deigning to talk awhile 
 with some of his older female scholars, with 
 an air of stiff familiarity, as near like to any 
 common mortal as could have been expected. 
 At last Parson Graves arrived, very late, and 
 threw off his long cloak in a hurry ; but staid, 
 nevertheless, to drink a tumbler of sling at the 
 buffet. As he entered the parlor from the hall. 
 in advance of his daughter, Miss Tabitha, and 
 a little band of elderly maidens that usually 
 followed in her train, the buzz of laughter and 
 conversation was hushed for a moment. The 
 older people who were seated rose from their 
 chairs, and the young folks crowded closer 
 together and spoke in whispers, suppressing 
 their glee. The Colonel hastily advanced 
 through the press, and shook hands with the 
 Parson; and then, quickly turning to Miss 
 Tabitha, greeted her with an air of marked 
 and ceremonious deference. For, although her 
 father was looked up to by everybody in the 
 Niptuck valley, with unmingled reverence, it 
 must be confessed that his benevolent counte- 
 nance, and easy, good-humored manners, failed 
 to beget in the minds of his parishioners that
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 225 
 
 sense of awful respect which was inspired by 
 Miss Tabitha's lofty demeanor and severe 
 aspect. 
 
 She was a tall, lean, sharp-visaged spinster, 
 with light blue eyes, a freckled complexion, 
 and sandy hair ; and was, as everybody knew, 
 the very incarnation of all the Christian graces 
 and virtues of the female sort. Nevertheless, 
 such is the depravity of the perverse human 
 heart, that there was scarcely a man, woman 
 or child in the whole parish that liked her; 
 except, perhaps, her body guard of vestals. 
 The young women, especially, heartily detested 
 her ; and even their mothers, while holding her 
 up to them as an exemplar, if the truth had 
 been known, loved her no better than theii 
 daughters did. But it would have been 
 thought an offense akin to blasphemy to have 
 given utterance to these sentiments; and when 
 the village girls ventured to murmur and repine 
 against the austere rule and annoying super- 
 vision that Miss Tabitha constantly exercised 
 over their conduct and pursuits, it was always 
 done in whispers, and with carefully closed 
 bedchamber doors.
 
 226 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 Next to the grace of piety, this exemplary 
 virgin held in esteem the virtue of propriety; 
 and, indeed, so intense was her aversion to 
 anything which was not strictly and rigidly 
 proper, that her mind was constantly busy, 
 endeavoring to detect improprieties in every- 
 thing she saw or heard other people do or say, 
 in order that she might reform or suppress 
 them. With the same good purpose and in- 
 tent, she was at great pains to enlarge the 
 scope of her observation, and so used to go 
 about the neighborhood on various errands of 
 ostensible charity and benevolence, taking 
 these opportunities to spy into other people's 
 affairs, and pick up every scandalous rumor and 
 piece of gossip that was astir in the parish. 
 By constant and vigilant practice, therefore, 
 her faculties had grown so keen that she espied 
 latent indecorums which a common observer 
 never could have discovered ; and quite fre- 
 quently the young girls of the village were 
 dismayed by caustic rebukes from'Miss Tabby, 
 for having been unwittingly guilty of gross 
 breaches of propriety in speech or conduct, 
 of the nature of which, even, the poor little,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 227 
 
 innocent transgressors had before that time 
 been as ignorant as Eve was of sin before she 
 saw the serpent. 
 
 When Parson Graves, upon returning from 
 the Colonel's house that day, had informed his 
 virtuous daughter that the wedding was to take 
 place in the evening, in spite of the omission 
 of the formality of publication, Miss Tabitha, 
 whose aversion to weddings has hereinbefore 
 been mentioned, at once perceived the impro- 
 priety of such a proceeding, and, during the 
 whole time of dinner, and, indeed, all through- 
 out the afternoon, she protested with great 
 bitterness against the proposition of consum- 
 mating the nuptial ceremony, before the usual 
 preliminary, which the law prescribed, had 
 been duly observed. What her arguments 
 lacked in intrinsic cogency was fully made up 
 by her constant reiteration of them; and when 
 at last, at a rather late hour, Parson Graves 
 and his daughter set out for the Colonel's 
 house, he had promised to advise, or at any rate 
 to suggest a postponement of the wedding. As 
 soon, therefore, as the worthy minister had 
 finished shaking hands with the most wealthy
 
 228 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 and distinguished of his flock that were con- 
 gregated in the parlor, and had warmed his 
 chilly hands before the crackling blaze in the 
 fire-place, he drew the Colonel aside into the 
 chimney corner, and began to express the hesita- 
 tion which he felt about proceeding further with 
 the ceremony. "In fine," said he, in conclu- 
 sion, "I'm inclined to think that, on the whole, 
 you had better let me announce that, for this 
 reason, it is thought advisable to put the wed- 
 ding off; at the same time, if you please, 
 appointing another time, and renewing the 
 invitations." 
 
 Now the Colonel, though he held the Parson 
 and his sacred office in great reverence, was, 
 nevertheless, so indignant at this proposal, that 
 he was sorely tempted to commit the sin which 
 easily beset him, and, in fact, liked to have 
 muttered an oath loud enough for Parson 
 Graves and the Recording Angel to overhear. 
 And, though he did not at first dare to trust 
 himself to speak, his inflamed countenance 
 very plainly betrayed the nature of his thoughts 
 and emotions. Conscious of this, he cautious- 
 ly avoided meeting the Parson's glance. So,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 229 
 
 biting his lips, and looking abroad at a venture, 
 his eyes chanced to meet those of Miss Tabi- 
 tha, in which, at that moment, twinkled a 
 gleam of spiteful intelligence ; for she, well 
 knowing the subject of the conference between 
 her father and the Colonel, stood at a distance, 
 across the room, watching them as they talked, 
 and waiting, with malicious satisfaction, for 
 the result which she confidently expected to 
 happen. This circumstance added fuel to the 
 hot flame of the Colonel's wrath. He did not 
 venture to reply to the Parson, lest he should 
 be betrayed into gross unseemliness of speech. 
 "Ef it's the same to you, Parson," said he, at 
 length, "I'd ruther talk about this matter, ef it 
 must be talked over agin, in some other place. 
 There's too many within ear-shot, here." 
 
 " Certainly," said the Parson, and straight- 
 way followed his host into the dining-room, 
 from whence the Colonel led the way into the 
 bedroom where he and his wife usually slept, 
 while the Parson lingered a little behind, 
 gating, with a good appetite, at the tempting 
 display which covered the long table. "In- 
 deed," thought he, " but it would be a pity to 
 20
 
 230 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 suffer such a feast to wait longer for the 
 guests!" 
 
 It is needless to set forth, with particularity, 
 the conversation which ensued between the 
 Parson and the Colonel. It is sufficient to say, 
 only, that Miss Tabitha's arguments, being 
 stated at second-hand by her father, and with- 
 out the spiteful energy and iteration with 
 which they had been originally presented by 
 their inventor, seemed to have grown suddenly 
 feeble. They were attacked by the Colonel, 
 moreover, with great zeal and vigor; and be- 
 ing, in Miss Tabitha's absence, like unto a 
 fortress without a garrison to defend it, they 
 were, so to speak, right speedily carried by 
 storm, and blown up and demolished without 
 loss of time. The Colonel showed triumphant- 
 ly that the decision of the question of pro- 
 priety, so far as it concerned the principal 
 parties, viz., the bride and bridegroom, apper- 
 tained to themselves alone, assisted therein, 
 withal, if need be, by the advice of their 
 parents. 
 
 "Ef theifre agreed, I should like to know 
 whose business 'tis?" said the Colonel; "and
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 231 
 
 as for you," continued he, "though I ain't a 
 minister to be sure, fer from it, arter you've 
 done and said all, I've suthin of a character to 
 maintain myself, though I say it, as p'raps 
 shouldn't say it, which I don't mean as a gineral 
 thing to do aught that ain't respectable and 
 proper " 
 
 "Oh, no I " hastily cried the Parson, 
 who began to be a little uneasy at the sarcastic 
 tone of his influential parishioner. 
 
 "And though p'raps it don't look well in me 
 to be savin' so, I think, actilly, my neighbors 
 are willin' to give me credit for bein' a law- 
 abidin' and orderly citizen," added the Colonel. 
 
 "Oh! they do, they do," said the Parson, 
 soothingly. 
 
 "Well, I raly hope so," continued the Co- 
 lonel, in a mollified tone; "same time, as I 
 told ye to-day, Parson, I've jined scores of 
 couples, that probably never'd ha' been pub- 
 lished nor a sign on't, and I only wish there'd 
 one sich come along to-night, and I'd show you 
 I wan't afeard to do it agin." 
 
 At this moment there came a loud knock at 
 the front door. "I wonder who's come now?"
 
 232 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 said the Colonel. " Ef it hadn't ha' been fer 
 this hitch they'd ha' been too late fer the cere- 
 mony." 
 
 "Well, well," cried the Parson, taking the 
 hint and rising. "I shall proceed, for it would 
 be unpleasant to have a delay ; though, after 
 all, as Tabitha says, a slight disappointment 
 of this kind might very likely be blessed to the 
 spiritual welfare of the young couple, and 
 teach them to moderate the fire of passion, 
 and illustrate the uncertainty of human plans 
 and calculations." 
 
 "Well," said the Colonel, "I'll go and 
 speak to Miss Manners, and have her hurry the 
 young folks, ef they ain't got ready, and you 
 can set here while I'm gone, or go into the 
 parlor, jest as you're a mind." 
 
 " I'll wait a moment," said the Parson, who 
 was determined not to give Miss Tabitha a 
 chance to remonstrate against the result of the 
 conference. 
 
 As the Colonel opened the bedroom door he 
 met his wife. She was a little flurried and 
 spoke rapidly, and with a catch in her breath. 
 
 "Why! what's the matter?" asked the
 
 TWICE MARRIED 233 
 
 Colonel. "I can't make head nor tail what 
 you say." 
 
 "Oh, nothing," replied his wife, in. the same 
 hurried, flustered way ; " I was going to ask 
 you but never mind they must wait till 
 after the wedding." 
 
 " Wait !" repeated the Colonel ; " who wait? 
 What is it ?" 
 
 " Why," replied Mrs. Manners, more steadily ; 
 " these people that have just come and wish 
 to be married ; but I told 'em we were going 
 to have a wedding of our owa, and so " 
 
 As his wife began to speak, the Colonel 
 noticed, for the first time, that a strange man 
 and woman were sitting together in the dining- 
 room, against the wainscot, where they were 
 shielded by the mantel from the brilliant light 
 of the candles that stood upon it. The man's 
 figure was tall, and apparently stout. His 
 swarthy face was almost hidden by a pair of 
 immense, bushy whiskers. His age, judging by 
 his looks, the Colonel thought might be near 
 thirty-five. His companion was closely muffled 
 in a large cloak, that completely enveloped her 
 form, and her face was so nearly obscured by the
 
 234 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 shapeless, quilted hood she wore, that it was 
 impossible to make out a single feature ; though 
 the Colonel noticed the ends of her bright red 
 curls, straggling out from beneath the cape of 
 her hood, and streaming down upon her shoul- 
 ders in a dowdy fashion. As soon as he found, 
 by his wife's speech, upon what errand the 
 strangers had come, he stopped her short. 
 
 " So you want to be married, do ye ?" said he, 
 accosting the man abruptly. 
 
 The stranger hesitated a moment, and then 
 replied in a deep, gruff voice : 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he. 
 
 "Are you published?" pursued the Colonel, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " No, sir," said the man ; " we " 
 
 "Never mind tellin' the reason. I don't 
 keer to know it," cried the Colonel, hastily 
 interrupting the other, lest he should disclose 
 some matter that would appear to be a weighty 
 objection against proceeding in the affair. 
 
 "Very well, sir," said the man. 
 
 " Though, to be sure," added the Colonel, 
 " I s'pose I oughter make one query, and I 
 must. As fer you, sir, your looks shows that
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 235 
 
 you've nobody's consent to ask but your sweet- 
 heart's. But how is it with the gal ?" 
 
 "As for that, Judge," said the man, "ef the 
 woman won't be offended, I'll take my oath 
 five vear will more'n kiver the odds between 
 
 tt 
 
 our ages." 
 
 "All right," cried the Colonel, joyously, his 
 face beaming with delight. " I tell ye, you've 
 come to the right place, and in jest the nick 
 o' time. We've a weddin' of our own here 
 to-night, and I'll jine ye free gratis for nothin', 
 and give you as good a supper as you ever eat 
 into the bargain. Betsey, jest step into the 
 bedroom with these folks, and have 'em take 
 off their things, and send the Parson out here. 
 He's in the bedroom. I jest want to speak a 
 word to him ; and I say, while I'm a talkin', to 
 save time, you find out the names and where 
 they live, and write the stifakit, will ye, and 
 have it all ready for me sign ?" 
 
 So Mrs. Manners led the way into the bed- 
 room, followed by the strangers, and the Parson, 
 who supposed that they were guests, just 
 arrived, going into the bedroom to add their 
 outside clothing to the heaps and piles of
 
 236 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 cloaks, shawls, tippets, and other garments 
 with w T Mch the bed and chairs were encum- 
 bered, looked at them without wonder ; and, 
 upon being told by Mrs. Manners that her hus- 
 band wished to see him, immediately stepped 
 forth into the dining-room. 
 
 "Parson!" cried the Colonel, beginning 
 without preface; "that couple that's jest 
 gone in there with my wife has come to be 
 jined, and hain't ben published nither, and I'm 
 a goin' to do it for 'em. Don't ye remember, 
 I was a wishin' for some sich a couple to come 
 jest as they knocked at the door?" 
 
 "Indeed!" said the Parson; "it does seem 
 as if the finger of Providence could be seen in 
 it." 
 
 "Don't it?" said the Colonel, gleefully; 
 " now, actilly, don't it ?" 
 
 "And you are going to marry them immedi- 
 ately; before the other ceremony?" inquired 
 the Parson. 
 
 "In five minutes from this time," said the 
 Colonel, looking at the clock, " they'll be hus- 
 band and wife, as tight as ever any two were 
 tied, I tell ye. I ain't a great while a doin'
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 237 
 
 on't," said he, rubbing his hands, " but I do it 
 sartin." 
 
 " Come," said Mrs. Manners, opening the 
 bedroom door, and looking out; "the certi- 
 ficate is written, and these people have got to 
 go into the other State to-night." 
 
 " From Massachusetts, then, are they ?" 
 asked the Parson. 
 
 " I expect so," replied the Colonel ; " but 
 come, I want you to stand by and see me per- 
 form. Why! why!" he continued, as followed 
 by the Parson he entered the bedroom, "you 
 hain't taken your things off. That ain't a goin' 
 to do. You've got to stay to supper, now I 
 tell ye." 
 
 "I don't know whether we can or not," 
 said the man. 
 
 "Perhaps the young lady will be more 
 willin' to take off her hood after she's mar- 
 ried," suggested Mrs. Manners. 
 
 "Well, well," cried the Colonel, "it don't 
 make no difference, I expect, so let her wear 
 her bonnet till she gets ready to take it off. 
 Now then, my friends, ef you're ready, jest 
 stand up that's it and jine hands yes take
 
 238 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 holt o'hands that's it. Now, Parson, seein's 
 you're here, ef you'll make a prayer it'll seem 
 more reglar and solemn. You needn't be 
 afeard, Parson," he added, with a sly look, 
 " there ain't no statoot agen prayin', jest when 
 you've a mind to, in this Christian land." 
 
 "No, thank God!" cried Parson Graves, 
 with great fervency : and immediately shutting 
 his eyes very tight, and grasping the back of a 
 chair, he began to invoke the blessing of 
 Heaven upon the pending marriage rite, and 
 the parties who were thereby to be joined. 
 
 In the mean time, Miss Tabitha, who had 
 witnessed, with secret uneasiness, the departure 
 of her father and the Colonel from the parlor, 
 and whose disquiet had increased during each 
 moment of their prolonged absence, was at last 
 no longer able to restrain either her curiosity 
 or her desire to meddle with and thwart the 
 business of the occasion. Slipping from the 
 parlor, therefore, she went softly out into the 
 dining-room, from whence she was guided by 
 the sound of her father's voice into the bed- 
 room. Her astonishment and displeasure at 
 the spectacle which she beheld was unbounded ;
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 239 
 
 and no sooner had the Parson pronounced 
 the final Amen of his pious invocation, than 
 Miss Tabitha precluded the Colonel from 
 resuming, at once, his part in the ceremony, 
 by asking, in a tone of great asperity, whether 
 anybody would be good enough to oblige her 
 by telling her what was going on. 
 
 " You can see for yourself, Miss Tabby," 
 said the Colonel, trying to speak jovially, in 
 order to hide his vexation, "it's a weddin' !" 
 
 "Ah! a wedding, hey?" cried Miss Tabitha, 
 looking towards the young woman with a 
 reproving severity of aspect that was truly 
 appalling. "And may 1 be allowed to ask 
 what wedding it is, and whose it is, and why 
 it takes place in this private manner ?" 
 
 To these inquiries Parson Graves proceeded 
 to make reply. " The Colonel, here," said he, 
 with a deprecatory manner, "is about to 
 marry this worthy young couple, who, by-the- 
 by, my daughter, have never been published, 
 in order to ." 
 
 " I see, I see," cried Miss Tabitha, with a 
 virulent energy of tone and expression. " I 
 see it all. And do you ma'am," she asked,
 
 240 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 turning to Mrs. Manners, "and do you, a 
 church-member, and a Christian mother, coun- 
 tenance such awful and scandalous improprie- 
 ties?" 
 
 "Ma'am!" said Mrs. Manners, reddening, 
 " improprieties, did you say ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, improprieties," repeated the 
 virtuous Miss Tabitha ; " for my part, I must 
 say that I consider a form of marriage, without 
 a previous publishment, as highly improper; 
 yes, ma'am, grossly, scandalously, wickedly, 
 sinfully improper, ma'am ; and as a mere form, 
 and no marriage at all !" 
 
 "I guess, ma'am," suddenly cried the sharp 
 voice of Mrs. Sweeny, whose inflamed visage 
 at this moment appeared at the door, " I guess, 
 ma'am, some folks would be mighty glad to 
 get married themselves, publishment or no 
 publishment ; and it's jest because nobody 
 ain't fool enough to have some folks, that some 
 folks are allus wantin' to be a stickin' their nose 
 inter everybody else's business. But they can't 
 break up this match; no, that's what they 
 can't !" 
 
 The boundless rage and astonishment of Miss
 
 TWICE MAR1UED. 24:1 
 
 Tabitha at this speech of Mrs. Sweeny's can- 
 not be easily described. For once in her life, 
 the Deacon's wife found herself opposed to a 
 more wrathful antagonist than even herself. 
 The pair stood in silence, eying each other 
 with furious and contemptuous glances. The 
 Deacon's wife, though a little appalled at the 
 idea of confronting the minister's daughter, 
 nevertheless stood her ground bravely. She 
 had overheard, in the parlor, whispers floating 
 about, that Miss Tabitha had hinted the wed- 
 ding was to be put off, and that the Parson had 
 promised her that he would not perform the 
 ceremony. She, too, had marked the with- 
 drawal of the Parson and the Colonel from the 
 parlor; and, when Miss Tabitha made her exit 
 also, she whispered to the Deacon to go and 
 find Joab, and then followed her as speedily as 
 was consistent with seemly appearances. She 
 had arrived at the bedroom door in time to 
 hear only the concluding words of Miss Tabi- 
 tha's declaration, hereinbefore duly set forth, 
 the which she, of course, supposed was spoken 
 with especial reference to the wedding of Lucy 
 
 and her son Joab. 
 21
 
 242 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 The Colonel, fearing lest an unpleasant col- 
 lision should take place between the two ladies, 
 who stood glowering at each other, made haste 
 to interpose and to explain. 
 
 "You needn't be agoin' off at half cock, as 
 usooal, Axy," said he. " Nobody hain't said a 
 word agin havin' Joab and Lucy reg'lary jined. 
 The Parson here is agoin' to do that job jest as 
 quick as this one's over that I've got in hand, 
 which I am a-doin' of, in order to show and 
 convince him that I ain't afeard, and he needn't 
 be." 
 
 "What job?" cried Mrs. Sweeny. 
 
 " This young couple, as comes from out of 
 the State, and wants to be married," replied 
 her brother ; " they hain't been published, to 
 be sure, no more'n Joab and Lucy has, but I 
 say that don't make no odds." 
 
 " Of course it don't," cried Mrs. Sweeny, 
 w r ho, under ordinary circumstances, would have 
 denounced this doctrine as fiercely as Miss 
 Tabitha herself. " They've jest as good a right 
 to be married as ef they'd a ben published from 
 the house-tops, and had a gin out notice by 
 advertisin' for a year in Hudson and Goodwin's
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 243 
 
 Connecticut Courant ; and, if anybody says they 
 hain't, I'd jest like to hear the reasons." 
 
 These concluding words, inasmuch, especi- 
 ally, as the speaker had accompanied them with 
 a scornful glance at herself, Miss Tabitha very 
 justly construed as a challenge; and, in spite 
 of the admonitory winks, frowns, and gestures 
 of her father, she forthwith turned upon Mrs. 
 Sweeny, and inquired if she herself would be 
 willing to be married in that way, without a 
 publishment, like the brutes of the field. 
 
 "As for me," replied Mrs. Sweeny, "I've 
 ben married myself these five-and-twenty year, 
 and my husband is still alive ." 
 
 " It's a wonder," muttered Miss Tabitha. 
 
 " And it ain't proper for me, Miss Tabby," 
 continued Mrs. Sweeny, with increased bitter- 
 ness, "to be a sayin' that I'd be willin' to be 
 married this way or that way ; but jest let me 
 ask you, mum, and answer it accordin' to your 
 conscience; wouldn't you jump at the chance 
 o' marryin' any decent white man, ef you could 
 git him, publishment or no publishment?" 
 
 At this home question, Miss Tabitha was al- 
 most beside herself with wrath and spite.
 
 244 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "I'd have you to know, ma'am," said she, in a 
 hissing whisper, "that if I'd pleased, I could 
 have been married to a dozen!" 
 
 " All to once, mum ?" inquired Mrs. Sweeny, 
 who had obtained the advantage in the battle. 
 
 "But I've always preferred, ma'am," conti- 
 nued Miss Tabitha, scorning to notice the in- 
 terruption, "and I still prefer to live single, 
 ma'am, and " 
 
 Here Miss Tabitha, overhearing her antago- 
 nist mutter something about sour grapes, 
 suffered her rage to wax so violent that words 
 suddenly failed her. 
 
 While this acrimonious debate was going on, 
 the strange young woman had been violently 
 agitated ; and if it had not been for the support 
 of her lover's arm, which he put about her 
 waist, she would have been scarcely able to 
 stand. Mrs. Manners went up and whispered 
 encouragement; and at last the Colonel, per- 
 ceiving her emotion, determined to put a stop 
 to its cause. 
 
 Mrs. Sweeny had just uttered a scornful 
 laugh, by way of prelude to another attack in 
 words, when the Colonel interposed.
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 245 
 
 "Now jest stop, Axy," said he, "jest shet 
 pan, now I tell ye, and don't open your face 
 again. I'm agoin' to jine this couple right 
 away. They think it's proper to be jined, and 
 I think it's proper to jine 'em, and ef anybody 
 else don't like it they're free to clear out." 
 
 Hereupon Miss Tabitha sailed out of the 
 room with great dignity, muttering as she 
 went, at which Mrs. Sweeny could not, for the 
 life of her, forbear coughing and hemming with 
 great significance. 
 
 " And if nobody else ain't willin', after that, 
 to jine Lucy and Joab," resumed the Colonel, 
 "why I'll do it myself while my hand's in; 
 for I've took a solemn oath on that pint, and 
 I ain't agoin' to have it broken. Now then, 
 my friends, ef you're ready agin', we'll go 
 through this time without a halt. Jine hands 
 there attention the whole Do you, sir," 
 he continued, "take this woman to be your 
 wife, and do you promise to love, honor, 
 cherish and maintain her as long as God gives 
 you life, health and ability so to do?" 
 
 " I do, sir," responded the gruff voice of the 
 bridegroom.
 
 246 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "And do you, young woman, take this man 
 to be your husband ; and do you promise to 
 love, honor, cherish and obey him, till death 
 do you part?" said the Colonel. 
 
 "I do," whispered the bride, in a voice that 
 was scarcely audible. 
 
 "Then," continued the Colonel, with a little 
 pomposity of manner and inflation of tone, 
 " by the authority of the State of Connecticut, 
 in me duly vested for that purpose, I pronounce 
 you to be husband and wife; and what God 
 has jined, let not man put asunder." 
 
 At the Colonel's request, Parson Graves then 
 made another brief prayer, and as soon as it 
 was concluded the Colonel went up and shook 
 hands with the bridegroom, and kissed the 
 bride ; an example which was speedily imitated 
 by his wife, who seemed to have taken a great 
 interest in the newly-wedded pair. 
 
 "And now where's the stifakit!" said the 
 Colonel. "I hain't got my specs," he added, 
 as he sat down at the desk and took a pen to 
 sign the document which Mrs. Manners had 
 prepared; "but it's all right, I expect." His 
 wife nodded, and the Colonel subscribed his
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 247 
 
 came with a flourish. " There," said he, rising 
 and handing the paper to the bride, who took 
 it with trembling fingers; "there mum, you're 
 married now, jest as tight as ef a bishop had 
 published the bans and performed the cere- 
 mony; and there's the evidence in black and 
 white, which can't very well be got 'round or 
 contradicted." 
 
 " Jest as tight," repeated Mrs. Sweeny with 
 a triumphantly spiteful glance through the door- 
 way at Miss Tabitha, who still remained in the 
 dining-room. 
 
 "And now," continued the Colonel, "I in- 
 sist on you taking off your things and going 
 into the best room, where there's to be another 
 weddin' right away, and arter that you must 
 stay to supper, and all night, too, for that mat- 
 ter, if you will, and welcome." 
 
 "I'll see to that, husband," said Mrs. Man- 
 ners, turning very pale; "and I wish that 
 you'd wait a bit here, for I'd like to have a 
 word with you before " 
 
 At this gentle hint, Parson Graves, Mrs. 
 Sweeny, the Deacon and Joab went out one 
 after another, Mrs. Sweeny last of all, closing
 
 248 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 the door behind her with a slam. Mrs. Man- 
 ners stood in the middle of the floor for a mo- 
 ment, and then going quickly to her husband, 
 she threw her arms about his neck, and began 
 to sob as if her heart would break. 
 
 "Good natur!" exclaimed the Colonel, infi- 
 nitely surprised at this unexpected demonstra- 
 tion. But before he had time to utter another 
 word he was completely astounded by having 
 the newly-wedded bride seize his hand, and 
 drop upon her knees at his feet, crying and 
 sobbing, all the while, as violently as his wife 
 did. 
 
 "What on airth! why!" ejaculated the 
 Colonel; "why! why! what on airth !" 
 
 "Remember your promise last night," sobbed 
 his wife. "Don't speak harshly to me, hus- 
 band ; and yet, if you scold anybody, scold at 
 me. It's all my doing and contriving." 
 
 "No, sir," said the tall bridegroom, taking a 
 part in the colloquy ; but speaking, not in the 
 gruff tone in which he had hitherto spoken, 
 " it's all my fault, if fault it be. I'm the one 
 that's to blame." 
 
 "Why!" who be you?" exclaimed the
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 249 
 
 Colonel. " I seem to know your voice ; but 
 
 __^__ 55 
 
 "It's me, sir John Dashleigh !" said the 
 bridegroom, pulling off his false whiskers and 
 his wig, and then, after that, standing very 
 straight and upright, and looking very pale, 
 with a slight shade of a defiant expression, 
 also, visible upon his features. 
 
 The Colonel's amazement made him well 
 nigh speechless. "And and you!" he stam- 
 mered, lifting the bride up from her knees, 
 and turning back her hood until he saw the 
 face that it concealed. "Lucy Manners! as 
 I'm a livin' man!" he added, pushing her from 
 him and sitting down in his chair. 
 
 "Forgive them, husband!" cried Mrs. Man- 
 ners, clinging to his neck; "and forgive me, 
 too, for I advised them to it." 
 
 "Forgive me, father! dear father!" sobbed 
 Lucy, clasping his knees. 
 
 As for John Dashleigh toe stood still, near 
 the foot of the bed, with his arms folded across 
 his breast, and growing pale and ruddy by 
 turns. 
 
 Colonel Manners remained sitting in his
 
 250 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 chair, with his lips compressed, and his fea- 
 tures working. At last, when, after a stout 
 and earnest struggle, he had conquered the 
 first impulse of his angry surprise, he ventured 
 to speak. 
 
 "I ain't a goin' to say anything hash or 
 ugly to you, Betsey," said he, enunciating 
 each word carefully, and with deliberation, 
 "I never have done that yet, and I never 
 will; but I tell ye, Betsey, I'm sorely disap- 
 pinted and grieved. But I don't keer half 
 so much about a plan's bein' broke up that 
 I've laid out nigh twenty year ago, and 'lotted 
 on, and hoped to see accomplished to-night, 
 as I do to find the wife of my bosom, that 
 I've allus trusted, a deceivin' on me and a 
 plottin' agin me." 
 
 "Husband!" said Mrs. Manners, "hear me 
 before you say such cruel words again ! I 
 may have deceived you, but I have told you 
 no untruths. I may have deceived you, but 
 I have meant it all for good; for your good 
 as well as Lucy's. As for your disappoint- 
 ment, I am sure that Lucy never would have 
 married Joab ."
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 251 
 
 "I'd have died first," said Lucy, passion- 
 ately. 
 
 "Your seventy might have killed her." re- 
 sumed her mother, "but it would have been 
 better for her to die, than to live the wife 
 of such a man as Joab Sweeny. If she could 
 have loved him, I would have been willing 
 to see her sacrificed to your cherished project. 
 But she did not, she could not love him ; she 
 told you so: she declared to you that she 
 never would marry him, and she has never 
 since recanted." 
 
 "Yes," said the Colonel, "and, at the same 
 time, I took a solemn oath which must be 
 kep. I must keep my oaths, Betsey. They 
 ain't like other words and can't be trifled 
 with. Ef Miss Lucy is so sot in her ways 
 that she couldn't back down from what she 
 said, no can't I, nutherj 'specially as I've 
 swore to't." 
 
 "But Lucy has fulfilled the condition of 
 that oath to the very letter!" said Mrs. Man- 
 ners eagerly. "I promised that she should 
 do so, and I've fulfilled my engagement, too. 
 Here is your oath, your very words, written
 
 252 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 down at the time, and your name put to it 
 with your own hand. See hear she has 
 been married on Thanksgiving night to her 
 cousin not to Joab Sweeny, to be sure, but 
 to John Dashleigh, who is no less her cousin, 
 and who is the man whom she loves better 
 than all the world, and who loves her as well. 
 She was married in this house; and that it 
 was in your presence, and with your consent, 
 can't well be denied, when you yourself pro- 
 nounced the words that made them lawful 
 husband and wife." 
 
 "Le's see the paper," cried the Colonel, 
 holding out one hand to take it, while, with 
 the other, he vigorously rubbed his forehead. 
 Then he got up out of his chair, put on his 
 spectacles and went to the desk where the 
 candle was burning, and deliberately read and 
 re-read the oath that was written on the 
 paper. 
 
 "Didn't I 'say your cousin Joab,' Betsey?" 
 he asked at length. 
 
 "No, no," cried his wife, "I am sure you 
 didn't. I took particular notice at the time." 
 
 "Purty well, purty well," said he, at last,
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 253 
 
 looking down over his glasses at poor little 
 Lucy, who still remained on her knees, with 
 her hands clasped, her hair falling down all 
 over her shoulders, (for she had pulled off 
 her hood and false curls,) and gazing up at 
 her father's face with an eager, piteous expres- 
 sion of anxiety and hope. "I suppose, you 
 little hussy, you think you've ben pretty smart 
 to get round your old father in this cute way, 
 don't you?" 
 
 " Oh ! don't be angry any more !" cried Lucy, 
 putting up her hands and shaking her head 
 in the earnestness of her petition; "forgive 
 me, oh! do, papa, and forgive John, and 
 mother." 
 
 " Forgive John !" replied her father, " humph ! 
 I can't say as I blame John a mite." 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, uncle Starr!" cried 
 John impetuously, and forthwith bursting out 
 a-crying like the other two culprits. "Oh! 
 uncle, uncle I I couldn't help it if there'd 
 been the least hope of gaining your consent, 
 even by waiting ten years, I'd have waited 
 and toiled as Jacob did ; but, you know ."
 
 254 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 "And I love John so much," cried Lucy; 
 "and I hate Joab so awfully, I'd never have 
 married him if he'd been the only man in 
 the world, and I'd never seen John." 
 
 "Forgive, forgive, whispered Mrs. Manners, 
 taking her husband's hand. 
 
 "Uncle," began John Dashleigh, "if you 
 will forgive us, my whole life shall be one 
 constant endeavor to make you amends for 
 the disappointment which I have caused you 
 to suffer to-night." 
 
 "And mine, too," said little Lucy, coax- 
 ingly. Mrs. Manners pressed her husband's 
 hand and whispered softly ; " and mine." 
 
 Ever since he had read the oath the Colo- 
 nel's face had been gradually softening, until 
 the benevolent good-humored expression which 
 usually was visible there had nearly regained 
 its accustomed supremacy. He returned the 
 pressure of his wife's hand, and then addressed 
 Lucy "And do you love John, you little 
 jade?" said he. 
 
 "Oh! yes, papa!" replied Lucy, who was 
 still on her knees, catching hold of John's
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 255 
 
 sleeve, and trying to pull him down into the 
 same position by her side; "I love him better 
 than anything!" 
 
 "Better'n me, I expect, and your mother?" 
 
 "Y yes," replied Lucy, a little fearful of 
 confessing the truth, lest it might give of- 
 fense ; " but, then so so very differently you 
 know!" 
 
 "And you, John," continued the Colonel, 
 "do you love Lucy as well as she says she 
 does you?" 
 
 "I love her with all my heart, uncle," re- 
 plied John with a quaver in his tone. 
 
 "Humph!" said the Colonel, "uncle, in- 
 deed! arter this, young man, you needn't call 
 me uncle any more!" 
 
 "What then?" asked John, with a little 
 trepidation ; while Lucy and her mother waited 
 anxiously for the reply. 
 
 "Why," said the Colonel; "I guess you'd 
 better call me what your wife does, and be 
 gettin' used to't." 
 
 At this speech Lucy laughed outright and 
 clapped her hands: first, because she knew 
 that if all was not yet forgiven there were
 
 256 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 good signs that it would be, right speedily; 
 and, secondly, because it sounded so drolly 
 to her to be called a wife. Then she got up 
 from her knees in a hurry, and threw her 
 arms round her father's neck, and hugged him 
 with all her might, kissing him at every 
 breath; while the Colonel was rendered to- 
 tally incapable of defending himself against 
 this attack, by reason of the conduct of John 
 Dashleigh and Mrs. Manners, who each held 
 one of his hands. 
 
 At this juncture the bedroom door was sud- 
 denly thrown open, and the group which I 
 have just described was thereby exposed to 
 the astonished gaze of a crowd of people in 
 the dining-room, foremost of whom stood forth 
 Mrs. Sweeny and Joab. In the rear were 
 gathered the Deacon, Parson Graves, Miss 
 Tabitha, Susan, and the whole suite of grooms- 
 men and bridesmaids, while beyond them all 
 appeared the pale, anxious face of Mrs. Dash- 
 leigh, with little Ellen standing by her side. 
 
 When Lucy looked up from her father's 
 shoulder she encountered the glance of mingled 
 amazement, alarm and fiery indignation with
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 257 
 
 which her aunt Sweeny regarded the scene, 
 which had been revealed by the bursting open 
 of the door; and hastily releasing her father 
 from the embrace in which he had been 
 straightly confined, she caught hold of John, 
 and then, being reassured by feeling her hus- 
 band's arm stealing around her waist, her fea- 
 tures assumed a wonderfully pretty expression 
 of defiance. 
 
 "Law! see that!" exclaimed Miss Tabitha; 
 "hugging in company well !" 
 
 "Ah what ," began Mrs. Sweeny, and 
 forthwith broke down. 
 
 "There ain't no use o' keepin' things back," 
 said the Colonel, advancing a step to the door- 
 way; "what's happened is very strange, and 
 sudden, and unexpected, and the whys and 
 the wherefores '11 have to be explained at 
 some future time. What's done can't be 
 helped, this time anyway, for it's of a natur 
 that can't be undid, and there ain't no use a 
 kickin' agin it, not a bit. You've got to hear 
 it, Axy; and you too, Joab, and everybody's 
 got to hear it and know it; and you may 
 jest as well hear on't now as ever. You'll
 
 258 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 bile, and I shan't blame ye, ef you don't bile 
 over; but be as moderate as you can. The 
 fact is, that unbeknown to me, at least in one 
 sense, John Dashleigh here has jest up and 
 married my darter Lucy, and she's up and 
 married him, and what's more, I, unbeknown 
 to myself, in a sartin sense, was the one that 
 up and married 'em both!" 
 
 There was a general exclamation of sur- 
 prise, which was by no means a whisper ; but 
 Mrs. Sweeny's scream of rage and disappoint- 
 ment was so very vociferous, that the crowd of 
 guests in the parlor came thronging out in alarm, 
 to ascertain the cause of the piercing outcry. 
 The scene which was discovered by these 
 new-comers was one which they never forgot, 
 I warrant you. In the bedroom door-way 
 stood the stout form of the master of the 
 house, serving as a bulwark against the violent 
 efforts that Mrs. Sweeny put forth to enter, 
 for the purpose of administering corporeal 
 chastisement upon the persons of the newly- 
 married pair. Lucy, frightened out of half 
 her wits at the extremity of her aunt's rage, 
 and the awful threats which she constantly
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 259 
 
 uttered, clung to her husband's arm for pro- 
 tection ; while John himself, proud and hap- 
 py, but still a little apprehensive lest the 
 virago should break through the Colonel's 
 defense, stood ready to succeed him " i' the im- 
 minent deadly breach," in case of need. Mrs. 
 Manners' usually rosy face, pale with excite- 
 ment, appeared in the recesses of the bedroom. 
 Joab, completly astounded and crest-fallen, 
 stood beside his father ; and, just behind the 
 pair, the sharp visage of Miss Tabitha was visible, 
 radiant with exultation at the disappointment 
 of her late victorious antagonist, the Deacon's 
 wife. The Parson had failed to comprehend 
 the explanation which the Colonel had given, 
 and, being prevented by the universal con- 
 fusion from learning the truth concerning the 
 matter, remained standing in the midst of the 
 chattering bridesmaids and groomsmen, the 
 image of perplexed amazement. In a corner 
 of the dining-room Mrs. Dashleigh, with her 
 arms around little Ellen, was weeping with 
 joy ; and in the open door- way to the kitchen 
 was crowded a score of black faces, each
 
 260 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 expressive of the most intense wonder and 
 eager curiosity. 
 
 At length, Mrs. Sweeny, finding all her 
 attempts to force a passage into the bedroom 
 rendered utterly abortive by the Colonel's pas- 
 sive but effectual resistance, suddenly made a 
 move towards the long table, and seizing hold of 
 one end, she strove with all her might to overset 
 it. But her excessive rage had made her impo- 
 tent ; and she succeeded only in displacing a 
 few dishes, which fell to the floor and were 
 broken, before she was restrained from com- 
 mitting further mischief by the interposition 
 of a dozen hands. Then she gave another 
 scream and fell away into a swoon, from 
 which, however, she speedily recovered; for 
 Miss Tabitha Graves happening to express her 
 desire to be informed with respect to Mrs. 
 Sweeny's present sentiments, concerning the 
 propriety of celebrating a marriage ceremony 
 without a publication of intention, this re- 
 mark proved to be a most excellent restora- 
 tive, more pungent and efficacious than either 
 hartshorn, camphor, or burnt feathers ; as was
 
 TWICE MAKRIED. 261 
 
 made manifest by Mrs. Sweeny's coming to as 
 soon as it was uttered, and replying at once to 
 Miss Tabitha's inquiry, in a manner more 
 earnest than polite. And when the Colonel 
 at last ventured to remonstrate against a 
 further continuance of her abusive language 
 and behavior, she called to her husband, and 
 with the Deacon and Joab set out for home, to 
 the great relief of everybody, declaring, as she 
 went, that she would never again set foot in 
 the house while she breathed the breath of 
 life. 
 
 When she had fairly gone, it seemed like a 
 calm after a storm ; and after a little whisper- 
 ing about among themselves, the other guests 
 began to talk aloud about taking leave; the 
 which when it came to the Colonel's ears he 
 soon put a stop to. For, going to where the 
 P.irson and his daughter were standing, he 
 spoke loud enough to be overheard by the 
 attentive crowd " Miss Tabitha," said he, "I 
 must confess I'm purty much converted to 
 your way o' thinkin', as, indeed, I most allus 
 am, arter a spell of experience. This gettin' 
 married by a justice of the peace, though
 
 262 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 strictly accordin' to statoot, ain't, arter all, so 
 satisfactory as when the jinin' 's done by a 
 reglar ordained minister of the Gospel. Now 
 this young couple that I put together to-night 
 ain't ben published, to be sure, but I've gin 
 'em sich a start that there ain't no gettin' 
 back; and I calkilate that, ef the Parson 
 here '11 kind o' do it over arter me, what with 
 what I've done, and what he'll do, the marri- 
 age '11 be about as valid as ef they'd ben 
 reglarly published in the fust place. I've 
 jined 'em kind o' rough cornered, but yer 
 father '11 finish it, you see, as it were." 
 
 Miss Tabitha, being in a very exultant and 
 self-complacent frame of mind, was easily 
 disposed to be flattered by the Colonel's 
 speaking to her in this fashion, and seeming in 
 manner, if not in words, to ask her advice and 
 counsel. "For my own part," said she, "I'm 
 sure I'd rather go to Newgate than to be married 
 to the best man in the world; and I would 
 advise every other young maiden, who is not 
 too far entangled, to be of the mind which has 
 kept me single for so many at least for a few 
 years ; during which I have had so many oppor-
 
 TWICE MARRIED. 263 
 
 tunities to change my condition. But, as you 
 observed, Colonel Manners, your daughter, 
 although I do not, to be sure, regard her as 
 actually and truly married, still has, without 
 doubt, gone too far with Mr. Dashleigh to be 
 able to retrace her steps. I think, therefore, 
 as you desire my opinion, that, under the 
 circumstances, papa had better give the sanc- 
 tion of the usual and proper religious cere- 
 mony to their union. But poor things !" 
 continued Miss Tabitha, sighing, and shaking 
 her head, "though doubtless Mr. Dashleigh is 
 a very worthy young man, at least I trust he 
 is, still I cannot help pitying her from the 
 very bottom of my heart !" 
 
 "Oh! yes! poor thing!" echoed Miss Tabi- 
 tha's staff of old maids, who by this time had 
 again surrounded their chief. 
 
 "Well, then, Parson, what do you say?" 
 cried the Colonel, who, to tell the truth, seemed 
 to feel quite jolly, notwithstanding his late 
 disappointment "will you consent to polish 
 off my rough-hewing?" 
 
 "Of course he will, Colonel Manners," said 
 Miss Tabitha, with a gracious smile; for the
 
 264 TWICE MARRIED. 
 
 Parson, who did not yet fully understand what 
 had happened, was hesitating what to reply. 
 
 So, an hour afterwards, in the best room, (this 
 time) John and Lucy, already husband and 
 wife, stood up to be married over again ; and, 
 (though I say it that shouldn't) since Adam and 
 Eve, a handsomer couple were never seen. 
 
 And now my story has reached its end. Au- 
 thors are wont to consider their duty well 
 performed, and their task well concluded, when 
 they have contrived to bring their heroes and 
 heroines, through many tribulations and dan- 
 gers, to the altar of Hymen, and once joined 
 the hands of the happy lovers in lawful wed- 
 lock. But I, conscious of the demerits of my 
 tale, am fearful that one wedding will not be 
 enough to save it from condemnation. So, in 
 the hope of bribing my gentle reader to look 
 with favor on my humble endeavor, I have 
 thrown in another, and have exhibited for his 
 delectation the rare spectacle of the hero and 
 heroine of a story TWICE MARRIED to each 
 other.
 
 PUTNAM'S MONTHLY, 
 A. M 
 
 OP 
 
 fihrahtn, Snnuc, Hitir 
 
 AN 
 
 ENTIRELY ORIGINAL AMERICAN WORK. 
 
 Published Monthly, and may be obtained of Book- 
 sellers, News Agents, or of the Publishers. 
 
 /. G. Whittier^s Opinion of Putnam's Monthly. 
 
 (From the National Era.) 
 
 PUTNAM'S MONTHLY. Among the multitude of liter- 
 ary publications which fall under our notice many of 
 them of decided merit we have no hesitation in assign- 
 ing the first place to Putnam's Monthly Magazine. We 
 have watched it with a good deal of interest from the out- 
 set, and while its singular literary ability has suffered no 
 diminution, we have been gratified by noting a higher tone 
 and aim in its leading articles more breath and freedom, 
 and a more courageous expression of opinion. It main- 
 tains the right of calm, manly discussion of all subjects of 
 popular interest the delicate question of slavery, and the 
 indelicate one of Mormonism. 
 
 It coolly ignores the fashionable taboo of disputed points 
 of metaphysics, theology ; and politics. It is really refresh- 
 ing to see, at last, an American periodical who?e writers 
 are not nervously apprehensive of what ' Mrs. Grundy 
 may say;" whose free, manly utterance betray no con-
 
 Z OPINIONS OP THE PRESS 
 
 sciousness of the presence of that ubiquitous old lady, 
 who has tied pulpit and press to her apron-strings. Its 
 political articles have the vigor und sprightliness of those 
 of Blackwood, without the savage personalities and slang, 
 which too often characterize the latter. 
 
 In its purely literary department, we question whether 
 it has any equal on either side of the Atlantic. Tenny- 
 son. Carlisle, and De Quincy occasionally write for English 
 magazines, but neither of them can be regarded as a reg- 
 ular contributor. Setting these aside, what names have 
 Blackwood, or Tail's, or Dublin University Magazine, to 
 offer, which will compare with those of Bryant, Longfellow, 
 Curtis, Melville, Russell Lowell, and Bayard Taylor ? 
 Lowell's "Hymn to my Fire," and Longfellow's "Two 
 Angels," will certainly not suffer in comparison with any 
 modern English poetry. In light prose literature, we 
 know of nothing, since the inimitable essays of Elia, which 
 we should estimate above the graceful series of papers 
 contributed by Curtis " My Chateux," " The Sea from 
 the Shore." and " Tidbottom's Spectacles." 
 
 The critical department of the Magazine is conducted in 
 a manly, independent spirit, and with an evident recogni- 
 tion of the " higher, law" of truth and justice. 
 
 The success which has attended the publication, thus 
 far, is due to its intrinsic merit alone, and not to puffery 
 and extravagant pretensions on the part of its proprietors. 
 Trusting to the good sense and discrimination of the pub- 
 lic, they have resorted to none of those u tricks of trade" 
 which have of late disgraced alike publishers and authors. 
 If our word of honest approval shall induce any of our 
 readers to subscribe for the Magazine, we have no fear 
 whatever of being called to account by them, for intro- 
 ducing to their firesides an unwelcome monthly visitor. 
 
 j. G. W. 
 
 PUTNAM'S MONTHLY. This vigorous and independent 
 magazine appears to increase in energy and value with 
 every new issue. There is a raciness and good sense in 
 most of the articles which at once attracts the attention of 
 the reader, and whether he agrees or differs with the senti- 
 ments they contain (for all sides are represented, and all 
 the disputed questions of the day discussed), he must ad- 
 mit that they are written with force and originality, and
 
 ON PUTNAM'S MONTHLY, 3 
 
 presented with a manly straight-forwardness which in 
 these days of literary servility, cannot be too highly 
 recommended. 
 
 This magazine is thoroughly American, though not in 
 the cheap and vulgar sense which partly attaches to the 
 name. It is the organ of cultivated Young America, and 
 every article is written expressly for its pages. Tt amis 
 at the expression of the newest and best sentiments of 
 the times ; it would strive for the highest ideas, for the 
 noblest progress, and the freest toleration of opinion. 
 
 To all. then, who would encourage these principles and 
 sustain intellectual freedom. who would read the newest 
 poetry by American authors, the best literary criticism 
 fearlessly and honestly expressed, and take home to their 
 families a magazine, genial in its temper, refined and ele- 
 vated in its tone, calculated to develop and invigorate the 
 mind. we say with all our hearts, " subscribe for Put- 
 nam." Boston Evening Transcript. 
 
 Tn the present age. when truly, :t of the making of books 
 there is no end," the man who writes and the publisher 
 who publishes a good book, may each of them be con- 
 sidered a public benefactor. And the same may be said 
 of the publisher of a good magazine. Upon the last there 
 is an especial and peculiar responsibility. From month to 
 month he has to cater to the taste of a great variety of 
 readers, ranging " from grave to gay. from li vely to severe ;" 
 to furnish matter suited to these different tastes, to give 
 to each their portion in due season, and at the same time 
 avoid offending the most fastidious taste. He who suc- 
 ceeds in doing this, and gives to his readers the best pro- 
 ductions of the American mind articles of a high literary 
 character, and of the best moral tone may be considered 
 a successful man. Mr. Putnam made the experiment of 
 endeavoring to establish a magazine that could be pre- 
 eminently American, and one that should be worthy to be 
 sustained by the lovers of sterling and genuine home litera- 
 ture, and most nobly did he succeed in his experiment. 
 Recently the magazine has come into the hands of Messrs. 
 Ihx & Edwards, 10 Park Place, New York, and so far it 
 loses nothing by the change. Judging from the table of 
 contents and a brief glance at the different articles in the 
 June number, it is certainly equal to any magazine of the 
 kind ever published in this country. Christian Enquirer.
 
 4 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS 
 
 We have before us " Putnam's," for July. The present 
 number commences the sixth volume. No periodical ever 
 issued in this country has so soon acquired a permanent 
 position in the literary world as this comparatively new 
 competitor for public favor. It takes the lead of Ameri- 
 can magazines, and rivals Blackwood successfully in lit- 
 erary merit. Several of its articles and series of articles 
 have made their authors famous, and given them a ''local 
 habitation and name" in author-land. Springfield Non- 
 pareil. 
 
 We have spoken thus at length of " Putnam's Monthly" 
 because we think it is due to the enterprise that some 
 acknowledgment should be made of our indebtedness to it, 
 as a people. If it has not in every number come up to the 
 promise which it has held out from the beginning, it is 
 none the less true that no periodical ever before published 
 in our country reflected so truly the thoughts of our Re- 
 public. Stale of Maine. 
 
 After the perusal of the best English periodicals, it is 
 strangely refreshing to take up Putnam not that it is 
 better, but so entirely different, and so original." Daily 
 British, Whig. 
 
 There is as much good writing and literary ability in 
 this number of Putnam as you will find in Blackwood, or 
 any of the English Magazines. N. Y. Courier. 
 
 This Magazine contains at least one political article in 
 each number upon some great leading national question, 
 not of a party bias however. The work is gotten up after 
 the manner of the British Quarterlies, and is the great or- 
 gan of the national mind. We commend it to persons 
 desirous of looking ahead into what is to come, rather than 
 what is past. Grant County Herald. 
 
 PTTNAM'S MONTHLY continues to be the prince of 
 monthlies, when considered in the light of real solid and 
 useful literary entertainment. Its aim is not merely to 
 amuse, but to educate. It is the production of ripe schol- 
 ars, brilliant intellects, and thinking minds. Wis. Herald, 
 Fon du Lac. 
 
 Putnam comes last but not least. It has not a single 
 picture, not even an embroidered slipper. * * . It is 
 simply a plain, well-printed, original American Magazine,
 
 ON PUTNAM S MONTHLY. 5 
 
 far from right in many things, or popular iu others ; but 
 evidently its deviations from right, on our standard of 
 right, are not made from a view of catching the popular 
 current, nor are its unpopularities necessarily evils. It is 
 the only really original, masculine-minded Magazine in the 
 country, that depends upon no clap-trap of wood-cuts, or 
 sectionalism for an existence. It wns, for a time, section- 
 al ; but a change has come over it in that respect. Daily 
 Journal, Wilmington, N. C. 
 
 PUTNAM'S MONTHLY, which from the first took a high 
 place in our magazine literature, seems to grow better and 
 better as it grows older. It has struck out a path for 
 itself, uniting grace and sentiment with the discussion of 
 political and other grave problems ; and, although the 
 experiment seemed hazardous in the beginning, it has 
 IK/CM well sustained by a discriminating public. Chicago 
 Daily Press. 
 
 Even in its treatment of the gravest topics, there is a 
 certain liveliness and spirit that must ensure for it a wide 
 reading. Evening Post. 
 
 It is evident that Putnam will not suffer in the hands of 
 its new publishers ; and we most heartily commend it to 
 the favorable notice of all admirers of sound literary merit, 
 and to all well-wishers to the cause of American letters. 
 Exeter News Letter. 
 
 It has lost none of its ability by the change. Louisville 
 Journal. 
 
 We consider PUTNAM to be the ne plus ultra of an 
 American Magazine. Its literary notices are, we opine, 
 the most impartial and the bt st that appear in any news- 
 paper or periodical in the country. Dispatch. 
 
 A magazine at once popular and elevated in its standard 
 and tendencies ; discriminating, if anything, in favor of the 
 cultivated reader. Times. 
 
 TKRMS : Tfiree Dollars a year, or Ttcmty-Five Cents a number. Svb- 
 scribers remitting Three Dollars, promptly, in advance, to the Pub'ish- 
 ers, will receive the work for one year, post-paid, to any part of the 
 United States within 3,000 miles.
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. 
 
 CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 DICKF.NS' HOUSEHOLD WORDS, in its monthly form takes 
 rank as a magazine of light literature, which never fails 
 to interest, amuse and instruct. The talent employed in 
 preparing its brief articles, has long since made its mark 
 upon the reading world ; for its list of contributors num- 
 bers many names eminent in the domains of art and sci- 
 ence. It is decidedly one of the best periodicals to be 
 placed in the hands of youthful readers, and fully merits 
 the vast circulation it has obtained. Each number of the 
 monthly reprint is complete in itself, and can be taken up 
 at sll times without trespassing upon the memory or tiring 
 the energies. N. Y. Mercantile Journal. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. Our readers will remember that 
 we have occasionally noticed this periodical in compli- 
 mentary terms. It is, as most are aware, a weekly pam- 
 phlet, published in London, by Charles Dickens. It is 
 republished in this country, both as a weekly and a 
 monthly. The contents are made up of stories, many of 
 them Dickens', and in his best style, essays on scientific 
 subjects, with a view of making them familiar to all classes, 
 political disquisitions, etc., etc., in all these breathe the 
 spirit of the editor. His devotion to the interest of pop- 
 ular reform, his thorough despite of that rank which the 
 accident of birth gives, in a word, his well-known love of 
 pure Democracy characterizes every line. This periodical 
 is published in a cheap form, so that it goes into the hands 
 of the entire reading community of the British Empire, 
 and is read with delight by that class which goes to make 
 up the bone and sinew of a country. 
 
 We must confess we were taken a little by surprise at 
 the remark of a veiy intelligent friend the other day. On 
 being asked who he thought was the greatest man of the 
 present day, he replied, " Charles Dickens." The more 
 one reflects upon this man and everything connected with
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 7 
 
 him, however, the more satisfied he becomes that the an- 
 swer might have been wider of the truth. If, to have 
 gained a complete knowledge of human nature and of the 
 springs of human action ; if to have aimed to touch those 
 springs so as to move thousands, to joy, grief, indignation, 
 or which ever way he pleases ; if to have devoted himself 
 to the amelioration of misery, the undoing of wrong, the 
 education of mankind, and to have brought his power and 
 knowledge into successful action in these efforts is any 
 mark of greatness, then Charles Dickens is indeed a great 
 man. 
 
 Nor need even he regret the success of his efforts. 
 Reforms in the Domestic laws, policy, customs, and habits 
 of the people of England are this day enjoyed, which but 
 for him, or some " such as he," would never have been 
 thought of. Evils that have been borne for ages are now 
 unheard of. Dickens does not so much write the songs 
 of the people, by which they may be moved to impulsive 
 action, as their thoughts and opinions, by which, with 
 a sure and steady movement, they are led to accomplish 
 lasting results. That, indeed, he is entitled to the dis- 
 tinction of being the greatest man of the age, we are not 
 prepared to agree, but that he is entitled to precedence 
 over many whom accident or intrigue has made famous, 
 and that posterity will award him that precedence we do 
 not doubt. 
 
 Meanwhile, if any person wants a periodical which 
 unites more instruction and amusement than any other, 
 let them subscribe for Household Words. Columbia 
 Democrat. 
 
 DICKENS' HOUSEHOLD WORDS. Among all the monthly 
 or quarterly or other periodical publications, we know of 
 none that we can so confidently commend to our readers 
 as likely to be both interesting and instructive. Its con- 
 tents embrace all forms of instruction and amusement from 
 science to satire, and in every form presented with a mas- 
 terly skill. The present number well sustains the repu- 
 tation it has acquired. Indianapolis Daily Journal. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. The monthly edition of this work 
 forms one of the best family magazines published in this 
 country. It has a great deal of light reading which at- 
 tracts the young, and gives one a very clear insight into
 
 8 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 the social life of England, without being historically dry or 
 dull. Journal and Visitor. Pa. 
 
 WERE we out of our chair editorial, as a " private citi- 
 zen" cut off from our exchange list and all that, one of the 
 first magazines to which we should become a subscriber, 
 would be Dickens' Household Words. This is a publica- 
 tion wholly out of the usual line, and beyond the common 
 order of Magazine literature with point and meaning, 
 when it is gay or sportive, and eminently instructive 
 when serious and reflecting. Much of this work is devoted 
 to the discussion and illustration of just such subjects as 
 will greatly benefit, while it deeply interests, the general 
 seeker after knowledge, desirous of really useful informa- 
 tion. Should anything we might say induce any one to 
 try Household Words for a while, we believe they will 
 thank us from their hearts as benefactors, so far at least. 
 Woodville Republican. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. A better work for the family cir- 
 cle we are not acquainted with. We cheerfully recom- 
 mend it to our readers. Courier. Conneautsville, I J a. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS, that every one would be the better 
 for making themselves familiar with. The best light lit- 
 erature of England, from the pens of her most cherished 
 authors, appear periodically in this work, and the Ameri- 
 can edition is printed and published simultaneously with 
 the English one. N. Y. Dispatch. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD WORDS. The number for August lies before 
 us for charming variety it is like a well-selected bouquet, 
 pleasant to the eye, and graceful to the nostrils. But we 
 have more than the agreeable there is much that is highly 
 instructive. Indeed, the tendency of this publication is to 
 improve the human heart, and to call forth its purest sym- 
 pathies. Very rarely does it contain anything that can 
 give just cause of offense to the most .sensitive mind. 
 N. Y. Citizen. 
 
 TERMS : Three Dollars a year, or Twenty-Five Cents a number. 
 " Putnam's Monthly" and "Household Words" Five Dollars. 
 
 DIX & EDWARDS, 
 
 10 Park Place.
 
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