" says the farmer (proprietor of the house), "Capt. Tiller has got
you into a tight place, Doctor; he's been around, laughing at the trick
he's played you, as perhaps you were not aware of the fact that by the
law you are now just as legally and surely married as though the knot
was tied by five dozen parsons or magistrates!"

"I'll shoot Capt. Tiller, by Heavens!" cries the enraged Doctor. "He's a
scoundrel! I'll crop his ears but I'll have satisfaction!"

"Pooh!" says the farmer, "if Betsy Figgles does not object, and her
father is willing and satisfied with the match as it is, I don't see,
Doctor, that you need mind the matter."

"I'll be revenged!" cries the Doctor.

"You were never previously married, were you?" says the farmer.

"No, sir," replied the Doctor.

"Engaged to any lady?" continued the interrogator.

"No, sir; I am too poor, too busy to think of such a folly as increasing
my responsibilities to society!"

"Then, sir," said the farmer, "allow me to congratulate you upon this
very fortunate event, rather than a disagreeable joke, for Capt. Figgles
is worth nearly a quarter of a million of dollars, sir; and Miss Betsy
is no gaudy butterfly, but, sir, she's an excellent girl, whom you may
be proud of as your wife."

"'Squire," says the Doctor, "jump in with me, and go back to the
Captain's and assist me to back out, beg the pardon of Miss Figgles and
her father, and terminate this unpleasant farce."

The magistrate-farmer got into the Doctor's gig, and soon they were at
Capt. Figgles's door.

"Captain," says the Doctor, "I don't know what excuse I _can_ offer for
the fool I've made of myself, through that puppy, Capt. Tiller, but,
sir----"

"Look a-here!" says the Captain, staring the Doctor broad in the face,
"I've got wind of the whole affair; now ease off your palaver. You've
married my daughter Betsy, in a joke; she's fit for the wife of a
Commodore, and all I've got to say is, if you want her, take her; if
you don't want her, you're a fool, and ought to be made a powder-monkey
for the rest of your natural life."

"But the lady's will and wishes have not been consulted, sir."

"Betsy!" cries the old Captain, "come here. What say you--are you
willing to remain spliced with the Doctor, or not? Hold up your head, my
gal--speak out!"

"Yes--_I'm agreed, if he is_," said she.

"Well said, hurrah!" cries the Captain. "Now, sir (to the Doctor), to
make all right and tight, I here give you,