People always minded Rachel; so she had the floor at once, though no one could think what she meant to do, when she brought along a big brass kettle, the very one in which Patty had dipped those unfortunate candles, and set it upon a board, in the middle of the floor. "Now, my friends," said she, courtesying, "you all know I am the oldest daughter, and it isn't fair that my younger sister should be married before I am; do you think it is?" "No, no; not at all," said uncle Joshua's four boys, laughing. "And I don't see," added Rachel, with another courtesy,--"I don't see how Mr. Starbird happened to make such a strange mistake as to choose Dorcas instead of me!" "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Starbird, bowing very low, "I never'll do so again." "But since the deed is done," said Rachel, "and cannot be undone, I shall be obliged to dance in the brass kettle. That's what ladies do whose younger sisters are married first." Then, with quite a sober face, she mounted a wooden cricket, stepped into the kettle, and began to dance. There was not room to take many steps; but she balanced herself very gracefully, and sung, keeping time with her feet. Rachel was one of the brightest, wittiest young ladies in Perseverance, and this performance of hers amused the bride and bridegroom, and everybody else but little Patty. Patty took it all in earnest. She had never heard before of the funny ceremony of dancing in a brass kettle, and wondered if it had anything to do with those candles of hers. "Mr. Starbird likes Dorcas better than he does Rachel," thought the little girl, "and that was why he asked her to marry him. I should think Rachel might know that! She says he made a mistake; but he didn't! If Rachel feels so bad, I shouldn't think she would tell of it. Poor Mr. Starbird! He'll be so sorry! and Dorcas will be so sorry! O, I wish Rachel hadn't told--" "Why, Patty, what makes you look so sober?" asked William Parlin. "You look as if Master Purple had been feruling you." But Patty was ashamed to let any one know the trouble in her mind; and after the bride and bridegroom had gone, she ran away by herself to cry; and that is all she remembers of the wedding. * * * * * "Is it really grandma Parlin you have been writing about?" says Prudy. "It doesn't seem much like it; for here she sits, with her cap and spectacles on, knitting a stocking. Please take off your cap, grandma, so we can think how you looked when you were a little girl." Mrs. Parlin took it off, but it didn't make any difference, for her hair was grayer still without the lace.