atefully, for it was Phoebe, her own offspring, who was alluded to as
the most precious of metals. "I suppose we'd better have the publishing
notice put up in the frame before Sunday? There'll be a great crowd out
that day and at Thanksgiving service the next Thursday too!"

"Cephas says he don't care how soon folks hears the news, now all's
settled," said his mother. "I guess he's kind of anxious that the
village should know jest how little truth there is in the gossip 'bout
him bein' all upset over Patience Baxter. He said they took consid'able
notice of him an' Phoebe settin' together at the Harvest Festival last
evenin'. He thought the Baxter girls would be there for certain, but I
s'pose Old Foxy wouldn't let 'em go up to the Mills in the evenin', nor
spend a quarter on their tickets."

"Mark could have invited Patty an' paid for her ticket, I should think;
or passed her in free, for that matter, when the Wilsons got up the
entertainment; but, of course, the Deacon never allows his girls to go
anywheres with men-folks."

"Not in public; so they meet 'em side o' the river or round the corner
of Bart's shop, or anywhere they can, when the Deacon's back's turned.
If you tied a handkerchief over Waitstill's eyes she could find her way
blindfold to Ivory Boynton's house, but she's good as gold, Waitstill
is; she'll stay where her duty calls her, every time! If any misfortune
or scandal should come near them two girls, the Deacon will have no-body
but himself to thank for it, that's one sure thing!"

"Young folks can't be young but once," sighed Mrs. Day. "I thought we
had as handsome a turn-out at the entertainment last evenin' as any
village on the Saco River could 'a' furnished: an' my Phoebe an' your
Cephas, if I do say so as shouldn't, was about the best-dressed an'
best-appearin' couple there was present. Also, I guess likely, they're
startin' out with as good prospects as any bride an' groom that's walked
up the middle aisle o' the meetin'-house for many a year.... How'd you
like that Boston singer that the Wilsons brought here, Abby?--Wait a
minute, is Cephas, or the Deacon, tendin' store this after-noon?"

"The Deacon; Cephas is paintin' up to the Mills."

"Well, Mark Wilson's horse an' buggy is meanderin' slowly down Aunt
Betty-Jack's hill, an' Mark is studyin' the road as if he was lookin'
for a four-leafed clover."

"He'll hitch at the tavern, or the Edgewood store, an' wait his chance
to get a word wi