"No, I ain't!" said Sarepta. After another glance, he didn't know but she was wise, and expected a single life was more handy like when one was used to it. Well! the Olympian Banquet--I should say the wedding breakfast--was served, and was enjoyed as I cannot think any banquet ever was before. Mr. Mallow and Mr. Jordano made speeches, each in his own vein. The former said well! well! well! how about it? He expected if Kitty and Tom conjingled as well as what we and this dandy spread did, there wouldn't any _divorcee_ lawyer make his fortune out of _them_, what say? He, Mr. Mallow, wasn't no hand at speechifyin', we all knew that, but he wished 'em joy--here the good man's voice quavered a little--and he looked to Mr. Jordano to speak up for him and the rest of us. Mr. Jordano rose with dignity, his cloak thrown back over one shoulder in his best style. (Yes, it _was_ funny to wear it at table, but he wanted to so dreadfully, I had not the heart to say "No!" when he consulted me!) "Ladies and gentlemen-ten-ten!" He swept a splendid circular bow. "On this auspicious occasion, when the ashes--I would say the spirits of our fathers look down from the azure empyrean to hallow this union; when I gaze upon the countenances of the bride in her radiant youth-tooth-tooth, and of the groom in the--a--stalwart pride of his manhood; when I see highly esteemed neighbors--I will venture to say _friends_--("Hear! Hear!" and applause) gathered in festal garb-barb-barb about a banquet so, so--_sumptuoso_, if I may use the language of sunny Italy, as to impart a truly Olympian flavor to the occasion; I cannot but feel, in the words of the poet, the heart in my dumb breast flutter and sing-ting-ting. No poet, but a humble worshiper at the shrine of the Muses, I have ventured to--a--shall I say crystallize these flutterings--into----" Mr. Jordano produced a paper from beneath his cloak--"into the following brief roundelay." And clearing his throat nervously, the paper trembling in his fingers, the dear gentleman read as follows: "A simple scribe, I yet imbibe Of Helicon a draught, And pray that doom o'er bride and groom The airs of Eden waft! Ay! may they capture of wedded rapture A homogeneous whole, Good angels shedding upon their wedding The blessings of the soul!"