Out of the Hurly-Burly; Or, Life in an Odd CornerClark, Charles Heber
General
Out of the Hurly-Burly; Or, Life in an Odd Corner
Clark, Charles Heber
American fiction -- 19th century; Humorous stories
When we reached Magruder's, the doorway was surrounded by quite a throng
of persons. The excitement had reached even the lower classes, and a
crowd composed of slatternly women with babies in their arms, of truant
servant-girls, of unclean children, of idle men and noisy boys, stood
upon the pavement waiting for the bride to come out. As we descended
from the carriages, Bob was the chief object of interest, and while the
women eyed him with admiration the boys made very unpleasant remarks
concerning his clothing, particularly his "claw-hammer coat," When we
entered the house, Bob ascended to some mysterious region above to wait
for Bessie, while we examined the bridal gifts and conversed with
the paternal Magruder, who was plainly uncomfortable in his wedding
garments.
Then the bride descended amid exclamations of admiration from the
servants and their friends, who were collected in a knot at the rear of
the hall. She did look very sweet and pretty, that little maiden, in her
lovely white dress, with orange blossoms in her dark hair, with a
radiant light in her brown eyes and with a faint glow warming her cheek.
Bob Parker had good reason to feel proud as he led the fair girl to the
altar; and he was proud, despite his trepidation.
And when our salutations were over, when the satins and silks were all
arranged and the bridesmaids and groomsmen were ready, we marched
through the critical assembly outside the door and drove swiftly to the
church. At the gate we found, awaiting the wedding party, another throng
of spectators, among them that gloomy undertaker, with his chin hooked
upon the wall, and his mind still brooding over his wrongs.
Then we heard the organ playing the Coronation March, and as the bridal
party entered the church and swept up the aisle the Wedding March burst
forth. There was a fluttering and a turning of heads in the pews; then
silence, and then the ceremony began. Bob was pale as a ghost, and his
replies could hardly be heard, but Bessie spoke with perfect
distinctness. It is strange that women on these occasions should always
be more composed than men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account