er received it with a profusion of
thanks that was remarkable for them to indulge in, adding that they
would be sure and have it placed in the centre of the great table at the
wedding. I had also contemplated accompanying it with a few
complimentary verses,--not that I was at all poetically inclined, but my
idea was that they would feel a little grand at having some poetry about
on the occasion. Indeed, I did write something, but it was so much of an
effort that I have never made a second attempt. When I read the lines to
Jane, she went off into a strain of merriment over what she called my
folly, and said, in her usual sharp way, that that was not what the
Tetchys cared for,--they had no faith in any kind of jingle but that of
money.

Everybody in the neighborhood, as a matter of course, knew all that
transpired at the wedding,--how many people were there, how the bride
was dressed, what presents she received, how she looked and behaved, and
what she said, as well as what sort of a dinner they had. We learned,
also, that there was a profusion of bride-cake, in nice little white
boxes tied with sky-blue ribbon, sent to friends and acquaintances in
token of friendly remembrance. As we were living close by, and felt that
we had strong claims, we expected ours would be received the next day at
least. But the day passed, and the next and the next, and still no
bride-cake came. A week longer proved that we had been either overlooked
by accident of positively cut by design. Jane became indignant at the
apparent slight; I was only alarmed lest my diplomacy had failed. I
cared nothing for the bride-cake, but only for the strawberry-plants.
So, when we thought the family had recovered from the confusion and
really hard work which are always incident to a grand wedding, I
summoned up courage to go and see Mrs. Tetchy and ask her to sell me
some plants. I had great misgivings as to my success; and in addition,
the fear of her sharp temper and language made me nervous. I could stand
up and face and argue with a man without flinching; but somehow the
rasping savagery of a termagant woman always overcame me.

It happened, when I went into the garden, that both she and her husband
were engaged in taking up what appeared to me to be the runners which
had grown that summer, and were setting them out in new rows, by a line
that extended across the entire bed. I observed also that they were
throwing away many plants, probably because the