That was Nancy; a small bunch of inborn good humor; and I'll say, right now, that it _took_ good humor, and lots of it, to look upon conditions out of your control, with such outstanding pluck! But young Dan Cupid was still around, and got in touch with that tyrannical mythological god who controls storms; and put forth such a convincing account of all Nancy's good points, (and Frank's too, if anybody should ask you) that a command rang out across a stormy sky:-- "Calling all clouds!! Calling all clouds!! All rain to stop at midnight of May Third! Bright Sun on May Fourth, and no wind!!" So, as Nancy took an anxious squint out of doors at about six o'clock on that important morning, (and what young girl _could_ go on, calmly snoozing on such a day?) Lo!! Old Sol was smiling brightly down on Branton Hills; birds sang; all sorts of blossoming things had had a good drink; and a most _glorious_ sky, rid of all ugly clouds, put our young lady into such a happy mood that it took a lot of control to avoid just a tiny bit of humidity around a small pair of rich, brown orbs which always had that vibrating, dancing light of happy youth; that miraculous "joy of living." And, _what_ a circus was soon going full tilt in Mayor Gadsby's mansion! If that happy man so much as said:--"Now, I----" a grand, womanly chorus told him that "a man don't know anything about such affairs;" and that a most satisfactory spot for him was in a hammock on his porch, with a good cigar! That's it! A man is nominally monarch in his own family; but _only_ so on that outstanding day upon which a bridal gown is laid out in all its glory on his parlor sofa, and a small mob of girls, and occasionally a woman or two, is rushing in and out, up and down stairs, and finding as much to do as a commonly known microscopic "bug" of prodigious hopping ability finds at a dog show. _Rush! rush! rush!_ A thousand thoughts and a million words, (this crowd was all girls, you know!) making that parlor as noisy as a saw mill! But Gadsby laughingly staid out of it all, watching big armfuls of bloom and many a curious looking box go in through that front door; flying hands rapidly untying glorious ribbon wrappings. Now, upon all such occasions you will find, if you snoop around in dining room or pantry, an astonishing loaf of culinary art, all fancy frosting, and chuck full of raisins and citron, which is always cut upon such an auspicious occasion; and it is as hard to avoid naming it, in this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach. Oh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, "for about a million months," finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around to six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past practically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam into that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx, blocking all traffic in that part of town; for all Branton Hills was fond of its Mayor's "baby girl."