Were you there?"

"I certainly was not far off."

"But Israel and Sarah," said I, now seeing through the whole affair, and
understanding perfectly why father looked aside, and mother sat down,
and Aunt Clara and Prudence Clark of the Dorcas Society exchanged
glances, and the minister himself would have laughed in the pulpit, if
he had not turned it off with a cough,--"but Israel and Sarah, how did
they fare?"

"Why, Israel, he said that Sarah was just a pretty nobody, and Prudence
Clark was a great deal more sensible,--for his part he never cared
anything about Sarah. And Sarah, she declared that Israel was a hawbuck
of a fellow, that no girl would think of when he was out of sight."

"It was too bad!" said Jerusha.

"_Too_ bad!" I echoed.

"_Dreadful suz_!" said aunty, mocking our tone. "Never you fear, if two
young simpletons are once caught, that a joke is going to separate them!
And whenever you hear two people pretending to hate one another, you may
get your wedding present ready for them. The folks did tease them
though, too bad, and so they had it, back and forth. Stories never lose
anything by carrying, especially the compliments between two quarrelling
lovers. So it went on for about a month, when Israel, on his way to see
Prudence Clark, who was sitting in her best, waiting for him, stopped to
tell Sarah that he _never_ said so and so. And Sarah said, _she_ never
said so and so. And they went into the house to finish their talk, and
Prudence Clark was left lamenting. _I_ know Israel came home very late
that night."

"_You_ know?" said Jerusha.

"And father's name is Israel," said I.

"And mother's name is Sarah," said my sister.

"Hush, hush; here they come," said Aunt Clara. "But I don't believe they
would ever have found out their own minds if it had not been for me."

"And you were the giggling girl," said I.

"She's no better now," said my mother, as she entered the room, and
readily guessed what we had been hearing from aunty. Father walked up to
Aunt Clara, and pinched her ears for her. What more he might have done I
don't know, if Parson Oliver had not dropped in. We made quite a
pleasant evening of it, and the old folks discussed the reminiscence in
all its bearings. I like to hear old people talk. They come straight to
the pith of a subject, especially if it is love and matrimony. And the
more I hear them, the better I can realize the truth of the Old Virginia
admonition,--

"Ole