Elsie in the South

Those over, the guests were invited to seat themselves about a number of tables scattered here and there under the trees and loaded with tempting viands. The minister craved a blessing upon the food and the feast began.

An effort had been made to some extent so to seat the guests that relatives and friends would be near each other. The entire bridal party was at one table, the other young people of the connection were pretty close at hand – the older ones and their children not much farther off.

Everybody had been helped and cheery chat, mingled with some mirth, was going on, when suddenly a shrill voice, that seemed to come from the branches overhead, cried out, "What you 'bout, all you folks? Polly wants some breakfast."

Everybody started and looked up into the tree from which the sounds had seemed to come; but no parrot was visible there.

"Why, where is the bird?" asked several voices in tones of surprise. But hardly had the question been asked when another parrot seemed to speak from a table near that at which the bridal party sat. "Polly's hungry. Poor old Polly – poor old soul!"

"Is that so, Polly? Then just help yourself," said Dr. Percival.

"Polly wants her coffee. Poor old Polly, poor old soul!" came in reply, sounding as if the bird had gone farther down the table.

Then a whistle was heard that seemed to come from some distance among the trees, and hardly had it ceased when there was a loud call, "Come on, my merry men, and let us get our share of this grand wedding feast."

"Tramps about! and bold ones they must be!" exclaimed one of the neighborhood guests.

"Really I hope they are not going to make any trouble!" cried another. "I fear we have no weapons of defence among us; and if we had I for one would be loath to turn a wedding feast into a fight."

"Hark! hark!" cried another as the notes of a bugle came floating on the breeze, the next minute accompanied by what seemed to be the sound of a drum and fife playing a national air, "what, what can it mean? I have heard of no troops in this neighborhood. But that's martial music, and now," as another sound met the ear, "don't you hear the tramp, tramp?"

"Yes, yes, it certainly must be troops. But who or what can have called them out?" asked a third guest, starting to his feet as if contemplating rushing away to try to catch a glimpse of the approaching soldiers.

"Oh, sit down and let us go on with our breakfast," expostulated still another. "Of course they are American troops on some trifling errand in the neighborhood and not going to interfere with us. There! the music has stopped and I don't hear their tramp either. Dr. Percival," turning in his host's direction and raising his voice, "can you account for that martial music playing a moment since?"

"I haven't heard of any troops about, but am quite sure they will not interfere with us," returned the doctor. "Please, friends, don't let it disturb you at all." Little Ned Raymond was looking and listening in an ecstasy of delight.

"Oh, Cousin Ronald and brother Max, do some more!" he entreated in a subdued, but urgent tone. "Folks do believe it's real soldiers and it's such fun to see how they look and talk about it."

The martial music and the tramp, tramp began again and seemed to draw nearer and nearer, and several dogs belonging on the place rushed away in that direction, barking furiously.

It seemed to excite and disturb many of the guests, and Violet said, "There, my little son, I think that ought to satisfy you for the present. Let our gentlemen and everybody else have their breakfast in peace."

"Good advice, Cousin Vi," said Mr. Lilburn, "and the bit laddie may get his fill of such fun at another time."

"Really I don't understand this at all," remarked a lady seated at the same table with the gentleman who had called to Dr. Percival; "that martial music has ceased with great suddenness, and I no longer hear the tramp, tramp of the troops."

"I begin to have a very strong suspicion that ventriloquism is responsible for it all," returned the gentleman with a smile. "Did you not hear at the time of the marriage of Dr. Johnson's sister that a ventriloquist was present and made rare sport for the guests?"

"Oh, yes, I think I did and that he was one of the relatives. I presume he is here now and responsible for these strange sounds. But," she added thoughtfully, "there are several sounds going on at once; could he make them all, do you think?"

"Perhaps the talent runs in the family and there is more than one here possessing it."

"Ah, yes, that must be it," remarked another guest, nodding wisely. "I presume it is in the family, and what sport it must make for them."

"But what has become of those tramps – the merry men who were going to claim a share of this feast?" queried a young girl seated at the same table.

"Perhaps they have joined the troops," laughed another. "But hark! they are at it again," as a shrill whistle once more came floating on the breeze from the same direction as before, followed by the words, "Come on, my merry men; let us make haste ere all the best of the viands have disappeared down the throats of the fellows already there."

Mr. Hugh Lilburn had overheard the chat about the neighboring table and thought best to gratify the desire to hear further from the merry men of the wood.

A good many eyes were turned in the direction of the sounds, but none could see even one of the merry men so loudly summoned to make a raid upon the feasting company.

Then another voice seemed to reply from the same quarter as the first.

"The days of Robin Hood and his merry men are over lang syne; and this is no' the country for ony sic doin's. If we want a share o' the grand feast we maun ask it like decent, honest folk, tendering payment if that wad no' be considered an insult by the host an' hostess."

At that Dr. Percival laughed and called out in a tone of amusement, "Come on, friends, and let me help you to a share of the eatables; we have enough and to spare, and you will be heartily welcome."

"Thanks, sir," said the voice; "perhaps we may accept when your invited guests have eaten their fill and departed."

"Very well; manage it to suit yourselves," laughed the doctor.

Then another voice from the wood said, "Well, comrades, let us sit down here under the trees and wait for our turn."

All this had caused quite an excitement and a great buzz of talk among the comparatively stranger guests; yet they seemed to enjoy the dainty fare provided and ate heartily of it as they talked, listening, too, for a renewal of the efforts of the ventriloquists.

But the latter refrained from any further exercise of their skill, as the time was drawing near when the bride and groom were to set out upon their bridal trip. They and their principal attendants repaired to the house, where the bride exchanged her wedding gown for a very pretty and becoming travelling dress, her bridesmaids and intimate girl friends assisting her. Her toilet finished, they all ran down into the lower hall – already almost crowded with other guests – and, laughing and excited, stood awaiting her appearance at the head of the stairway. She was there in a moment – her bouquet of orange blossoms in her hand.

The hands of the laughing young girls were instantly extended toward her and she threw the bouquet, saying merrily:

"Catch it who can, and you will be the first to follow me into wedded happiness."

It so happened that Evelyn Leland and Lucilla Raymond stood so near together that their hands almost touched and that the bouquet fell to both – each catching it with one hand. Their success was hailed by a peal of laughter from all present, Chester Dinsmore and Max Raymond particularly seeming to enjoy the sport.

The bride came tripping down the stairway, closely followed by her groom, and the adieus began; not especially sad ones, as so many of the near and dear relatives left behind expected to see them again ere many weeks should pass – and quite a goodly number followed them down to the edge of the bayou, where lay the boat that was to carry them over the first part of their wedding journey. They stepped aboard amid showers of rice, accompanied by an old shoe or two, merry laughter, and many good wishes for a happy and prosperous trip; and as they seated themselves, a beautiful horseshoe formed of lovely orange blossoms fell into the bride's lap.

The little vessel was bountifully adorned with flags of various sizes – by the previous arrangement of Dr. Percival, who knew them both to be devoted admirers of the flag of our Union – and as the vessel moved away there came again from among the trees at a little distance, the sound of a bugle, the drum and the fife playing the "Star-Spangled Banner," than which nothing could have been more appropriate.

As the boat disappeared and the music died away something of a lonely feeling came over many of those left behind, and the guests not related began to make their adieus and depart to their homes. But the relatives tarried somewhat longer, chatting familiarly among themselves and re-examining the many handsome bridal gifts.

"They have fared well," said Mrs. Betty Norton, Dr. Robert's sister, "I am so glad for them both. I'm fond of my brother Bob, and well pleased with the match he has made. And not less so with Dick's," she added, turning with a smile to Maud, who stood at her side.

"Thank you, Betty," said Maud. "I was well pleased with the relationship we held to each other before, and am glad it has been made nearer. Though at first – when Dick proposed – I was afraid it – the relationship – ought to be a bar to our union. However, he said it was not near enough for that, and as he is a good physician I supposed he knew – so did not say him nay," she added, with a laughing look up into her husband's face as at that moment he drew near and stood at her side.

"Ah, don't you wish you had?" he returned, laying a hand lightly on her shoulder and giving her a very loverlike look and smile.

"I have serious objections to being questioned too closely," she said laughingly; "and please to remember, sir, that I did not promise never to have a secret from you even if you're my other – and perhaps better half."

"Oh, I always understood it was the woman's privilege to be that," he laughed; "and I certainly expect it of you, my dear."

"Why, how absurd in you!" she exclaimed. "With such a husband as mine it would be utterly impossible for me to be the better half."

"But it is quite the thing for each to think the other is," said Grandma Elsie, regarding them with an affectionate smile.

"A state of feeling that is certain to make both very happy," remarked Captain Raymond, who happened to be standing near.

"As you and I know by experience," said Violet with a bright look up into his face.