re insufficient to set forth the joy
and glory of this feast. We may try our best, but much must be left
unrecorded.

Two very long wooden tables were stretched on the ground behind the
slaves' cabins, under the splendid natural forest trees which Kentucky
boasted. The day before an ox was killed, and a deep pit dug in the
ground. Early on the eighteenth, the ox was suspended in this hole and
a great fire lighted under the carcass. There for hours the body
roasted in its own fat. Besides the ox, succulent roasting pigs were
cooked whole, chickens were prepared in various ways. All vegetables
common to the season were gotten ready in unlimited abundance. Bread
enough for all and much to spare appeared on the tables. Pies and cakes
of many kinds lay in beautiful companionship with the other good
things. Steaming coffee in abundance for all was on hand. And plenty of
"Adam's ale"--pure spring water.

This barbecue feast was to be eaten after the marriage ceremony was
performed.

The wedding feast for the white folks was spread on tables which had
been placed under the pine trees some distance east of the great
mansion. It was impossible to accommodate all the invited guests in the
dining-room of the house, and Viola decided to have the dinner served
in the open air under the trees. As to the quality and quantity of this
feast it is only necessary to say that Aunt Dinah and her satellites
had been preparing it for days, and the proud cook was intending to
stake her reputation as to ability on it for all time to come. The
result was worthy of the effort she had made.

On the morning of the eighteenth came the great event. Let us try to
picture the scene. It was to be an open air wedding. Viola had
requested that all the colored people be permitted to witness the
ceremony. There were hundreds of them, big and little, old and young.
They were disposed by Mose and others under the pine trees nearest to
the river.

Grouped nearer to the mansion were the members of the mission school,
many planters and their families, some guests from Lexington and other
places. Just by the pavement in front of the piazza a chair had been
provided for Madam LeMonde.

The principals in the ceremony were in a bedroom upstairs.

And now the strains of a wedding march floats out over the great
company, played by a pianist from Paducah.

With slow and measured step the wedding party descend the broad
stairway. We see Susanna Spink walking b