the poor Constitution the
scapegoat for everything they don't like. So, as it was impossible for
us to climb up to the church where the wedding was to be, we contented
ourselves with seeing the procession pass. It was not a very large one;
for, it requiring some activity to go up, all the old people remained at
home. It is not the etiquette for the bride's mother to go, and no
unmarried woman can go to a wedding,--I suppose for fear of its making
her discontented with her own position. The procession stopped at our
door, for the bride to receive our congratulations. She was dressed in a
shot silk, with a yellow handkerchief, and rows of a large gold chain.
In the afternoon they sent to request us to go there. On our arrival, we
found them dancing out-of-doors, and a most melancholy affair it was.
All the bride's sisters were not to be recognized, they had cried so.
The mother sat in the house, and could not appear; and the bride was
sobbing so, she could hardly stand. The most melancholy spectacle of
all, to my mind, was, that the bridegroom was decidedly tipsy. He seemed
rather affronted at all the distress. We danced a Monferrino,--I with
the bridegroom, and the bride crying the whole time. The company did
their utmost to enliven her, by firing pistols, but without success; and
at last they began a series of yells, which reminded me of a set of
savages. But even this delicate method of consolation failed, and the
wishing good-bye began. It was altogether so melancholy an affair, that
Madame B. dropped a few tears, and I was very near it,--particularly
when the poor mother came out to see the last of her daughter, who was
finally dragged off between her brother and uncle, with the last
explosion of pistols. As she lives quite near, makes an excellent match,
and is one of nine children, it really was a most desirable marriage, in
spite of all the show of distress. Albert was so discomfited by it that
he forgot to kiss the bride, as he had intended to, and therefore went
to call upon her yesterday, and found her very smiling in her new house,
and supplied the omission. The cook came home from the wedding declaring
she was cured of any wish to marry; but I would not recommend any man to
act upon that threat, and make her an offer. In a couple of days we had
some rolls of the bride's first baking, which they call Madonna's. The
musicians, it seems, were in the same state as the bridegroom; for, in
escorting her home, they a