The captain, discovering that something was the matter, drove off the dogs, and inquired what had happened to cause such confusion. “What the devil’s the matter now?” he said. “You all look as _down in the mouth_ as we did on the _Santaffee_ (St. Fe), when the quartermaster said the provisions had all give out. What’s the matter—won’t somebody tell me? Old ’oman, has the dogs got into the kitchen and eat up all the supper, or what else has come to pass? out with it!” “Ah, old man, bad news!” said the wife with a sigh. “Well, what is it? you are _all_ getting as bad as Floyd, _terryfying_ a fellow to death.” “Parson Gympsey was digging a new horse trough and cut his leg to the bone with the foot-adze, and can’t come—Oh, dear!” “I wish he had taken a fancy to ’a done it a week ago, so we _mout_ ’a got another parson, or, as long as no other time would suit but to-day, I wish he had cut his derned eternal head off!” “Oh, my! husband,” exclaimed Mrs. Peablossom. Bushy Creek Ned, standing in the piazza with his fiddle, struck up the old tune of “We’ll dance all night, ’till broad daylight, And go home with the _gals_ in the morning.” Ned’s hint caused a movement towards the dancing room, among the young people, when the captain, as if waking from a revery, exclaimed in a loud voice: “Oh, the devil! what are we all thinking of? why here’s Squire Tompkins, _he can perform the ceremony_. If a man can’t marry folks, what’s the use of being squire at all?” Manna did not come in better time to the children of Israel in the wilderness, than did this discovery of the worthy captain to the company assembled. It was as vivifying as a shower of rain on corn that is about to shoot and tassel, especially to G. W. Hodgkins and his lady-love. Squire Tompkins was a newly elected magistrate, and somewhat diffident of his abilities in this untried department. He expressed a hint of the sort, which the captain only noticed with the exclamation, “hoot toot!”