'
else, out come the deacon an' Mr. Jilkins, each with a daisy an' a silk
hat, an' I will remark, Mrs. Lathrop, as new-born kittens is blood-red
murderers compared to how innocent that hat o' Mr. Jilkins' looked. Any
one could see as it wasn't new, but he wasn't new either, as far as that
goes, an' that was what struck me in particular about the whole
thing--nothin' an' nobody wasn't any different only for Polly's
foolishness and the daisies.

"Well, they sorted out an' begun to get married, an' us all sittin'
lookin' on an' no more guessin' what was comin' next than a ant looks
for a mornin' paper. The minister was gettin' most through an' the
deacon was gettin' out the ring, an' we was lookin' to get up an' out
pretty quick, when--my heavens alive, Mrs. Lathrop, I never will forget
that minute--when Mr. Jilkins--poor man, he's sufferin' enough for it,
Lord knows!--when Mr. Jilkins dropped his hat!

"That very next second him an' Ed an' Brunhilde Susan all hopped an'
yelled at once, an' the next thing we see was the minister droppin' his
book an' grabbin' his arm an' the deacon tryin' madly to do hisself up
in Polly's veil. We would 'a' all been glum petrified at such goin's on
any other day, only by that time the last one of us was feelin' to hop
and grab an' yell on his own account. Gran'ma Mullins was tryin' to slap
herself with the seat cushion, an' the way the daisies flew as folks
went over an' under that clematis rope was a caution. I got out as quick
as I--"

"But what--" interrupted Mrs. Lathrop, her eyes fairly marble-like in
their redundant curiosity.

"It was wasps!" said Susan, "it was a young wasps' nest in Mr. Jilkins's
hat. Seems they carried their hats to church in their hands 'cause Polly
didn't want no red rings around 'em, an' so he never suspected nothin'
till he dropped it. An' oh, poor little Brunhilde Susan in them short
skirts of hers--she might as well have wore a bee hive as to be like she
is now. I got off easy, an' you can look at me an' figure on what them
as got it hard has got on them. Young Dr. Brown went right to work with
mud an' Polly's veil an' plastered 'em over as fast as they could get
into Mrs. Sweet's. Mrs. Sweet was mighty obligin' an' turned two
flower-beds inside out an' let every one scoop with her kitchen spoons,
besides runnin' aroun' herself like she was a slave gettin' paid. They
took the deacon an' Polly right to their own house. They can't see one
another anyhow,