The natives of Poland, quite numerous in the vicinity of Shenandoah, were mostly members of the Catholic Church, affiliating readily with the miners from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, and, when of the same religious belief, even with those of Germany and Scandinavia. Still they were located in particular sections, and tenaciously held to many of the fatherland social peculiarities. Their habits and customs were mostly novel to the average American reader, and their nuptial ceremony notable as among the most curious of those belonging to a queer community. In the first place, although it was generally known when and where a wedding was to transpire, yet no persons were especially invited to participate, and none were asked to stay away. All, as it was generally understood, would find welcome on the occasion. Preparations were entered into for great sport, and plenty of it, as an accompaniment to the act of uniting “two hearts that beat as one.” There was, on these occasions, almost total absence of restraint, but perfect decorum being the prevailing rule, and disorder the exception. The Polish women were as well-behaved, in every respect, as those of other nationalities, and, in a locality where two-thirds of the inhabitants were Poles, cause for divorce, and illegitimacy were seldom brought to the light. But the wedding. Monaghan, Fergus, McNulty, and McKenna attended the nuptials of Julius Krozenski with a fair maiden, to whom he had been some years betrothed. It was rather outside the borough limits and in the edge of the wood that the girl’s parents resided, and this was the scene of the wedding. There were many people already gathered when they reached the place, although the time was only an hour past sunset. The view presented to the eye of the detective reminded him of pictures he had seen of gypsy encampments at night. Two forked sticks had been embedded in the earth, the “y” parts above ground. Across, and resting in the crotches of these, was placed a heavy hickory sapling, some five inches in diameter at the butt. Suspended by iron chains and a hook from the center of this beam was a huge caldron kettle, made of iron, and under the vessel a hot fire had been kindled, which, beside serving its culinary purpose, threw out fitful flashes of red light upon the motley assemblage, giving a garish contrast on one side of each object to the darkness of night shadowing the other. As a more voluminous sheet of fire would dart out from among the pine knots and glowing embers, it illuminated a space for yards around, and sent the pleasant light far into the budding branches of the highest trees.