g when he comes! He asked me
what you'd been a-doing all day, and I told him I thought maybe you had
a few custards in your mind for him to-night when he gets back from
Flat Rock. Don't you want to beat up some with Cindy's help? And they
is a bunch of pink peonies he sent you from Mis' Hank's bushes,
sticking in a bucket on the back porch. Pin one in your hair to sorter
compliment him after all the trouble he have had this day, poor Tom!"

CHAPTER VII

PRETTY BETTIE'S WEDDING DAY

And even old Dame Nature of Harpeth Hills aroused herself for the
occasion and took in hand the wedding day of pretty Bettie Pratt on
Providence Road. In the dark hours before dawn she spread a light film
of clouds over the stars, from which she first puffed a stiff
dust-cleansing breeze and then proceeded to sprinkle a good washing
shower which took away the last trace of wear and tear of the past hot
days, so by the time she brought the sun out for a final shine up, the
village looked like it had been having a most professional laundering.
And after an hour or two of his warm encouragement, the roses lifted
their buds and began to blow out with joyous exuberance. Mother
Mayberry's red-musks tumbled over the wall almost on to the head of
Mrs. Peavey's yellow-cluster, and Judy Pike's pink-cabbage fairly flung
blossoms and buds over into the Road. The widow's own moss-damask
nodded and beckoned hospitably to Mrs. Tutt's Maryland tea, and Pattie
Hoover's Maiden's Blush mingled its sweetness with that of the dainty
white-cluster that climbed around Mrs. Bostick's window. A haunting
perfume from the new-mown clover fields drifted over it all and the
glistening silver poplar leaves danced in the breezes.

"Was they ever such a day before!" exclaimed Mother Mayberry as she
stood on the front steps with the singer lady, who was as blooming
herself as any rose on the Road. "And everything is well along towards
ready when it's turned twelve. The children have all been washed from
skin out and just need a last polish-off. I've put 'em all on honor not
to get dirty again and I think every shoe will be on by marching time."

"The baskets and the tubs of roses are in the milk house, and I will
arrange them at the last minute so they won't wilt," answered Miss
Wingate with enthusiasm that matched Mother Mayberry's. "Do you suppose
there is anything I can do to help anybody anywhere? I never was so
excited before."

"I don't believe they is a