From the words passing in these expectant groups, a stranger might soon have gathered that something more than the common sport of May-day was engaging the honest and buzzing mob of men, women, and children, that blocked the street opposite this goodly mansion, and what that something was. “Better day better luck.”--“A bonny bride is soon dressed.”--“Honest men marry soon,” said a black-eyed, nut-brown wife, with a lively babe in her arms, and two curly-headed little ones holding her apron,--and “Wise men not at all,” added a gruff old blacksmith, with a seamed visage.--“Ah, it’s no good kicking in fetters, Roger,” rejoined the laughing wife, at the same time giving her infant into the horny hands of a stout young woodman, with a green doublet and a clean white collar, who held it up, kicking and shrieking with delight, as though it would spring out of his arms, and chimed in with “Ah, Master Roger, it’s an ill house where the hen crows loudest.”--“Ah, thou’lt find that some day, Stephen;” for this he got a heavy slap on his shoulder from the young wife, whose coming words were checked by the sound of fiddles, as the bridal procession came forth. “Dear heart,” said she, “how pretty Bessy does look in that lilac gown with brave red guardings and the golden cawl on her fair hair, and what a beautiful lace rochet she has.”--“Ah, fine feathers make fine birds,” said a spinster standing near.--“He’s a proper man is young Hargood, and should have known better than choose a wife by the eye.”--“She had rather kiss than spin, I’ll warrant.”--“Better be half hanged than ill wed.”--“You may know a fool by her finery.”--“A precious stone should be well set,” said the young wife, sharply, “and Bessy’s blue eyes and her blushing cheeks are small matters to her ways and words.” But envy and ill will were low-voiced, and confined to few, for old Blount and all his house were well loved by the people; and with many a word of cheerful greeting they made way for the party, and the most of them followed it to the church.