Pretty soon the doors of the hall were thrown wide open; and a stream of young people poured forth into the garden. The men wore dress-suits and patent-leather pumps; the ladies, evening costumes, of red, white, yellow, and other bright-hued silks. They took possession of the unoccupied tables round about, and proceeded to make merry in a very noisy and whole-souled manner. “Yes, it's a wedding, sure enough,” said Mr. Koch; “and here comes the bride.” The bride, a buxom daughter of Israel, of twenty odd, attired in canary-colored satin, escorted by her bridesmaids, and followed at a respectful distance by the groom and his four best men, drew up to the table nearest that of our friends, and called for beer and cheese; which, when the waiter brought them, she attacked with a vigor and with a directness that were charming to witness. Indeed, so interesting did her immediate neighbors find the spectacle, that not a word was spoken among them for a long while. They sat still, and watched her with smitten eyes. At last, however, she called out to her husband: “Nun, gut, mein Turteltâubchen; ich bin ganz satt und glücklich. Komm 'mal mit mir, und noch ein wenig lass uns tanzen.” And then Mrs. Koch said that she was sorry to break up a party, but she really thought she'd better go home, as Laistair might have woke up, and he would be frightened if his mamma wasn't there to put him back to shleep. This expression of maternal solicitude produced its due effect; and, with many hearty good-nights, the company departed upon their several ways. ***** Sunday evening, Elias rang the Sternberg doorbell at six o'clock. The Kochs and the Blums had already arrived; and they, with the host and hostess and Mrs. Morgenthau and Tillie, were assembled in the back-parlor, enjoying the view from the bay-window--up, down, and across the river, and over the Long Island country on the other side. He got, of course, a very effusive reception. Mr. Koch inquired what the good word was. Miss Tillie said she was so glad to see him, and that it was perfectly elegant of him to come. Mr. Sternberg mixed him a vermouth cocktail, “to put an edge on his appetite.” And Mr. Blum declared, vail, he was looking splendid. “Supper's all ready,” proclaimed Mrs. Sternberg, and led the way to the back-yard, where, protected by an awning, the table fairly groaned beneath its burden of good things. “Say, Wash,” she called out to her brother, “think there's enough?” Which proved that Mr. Koch's witticisms were not speedily forgotten in his admiring circle.