ime they hit upon
the game of forfeits. Miss Eva McElwin, the great man's daughter, fell
under penalty, and the sentence was that she should go through the
ceremony of marriage with the first man who came through the door. At
that moment Sam Lyman entered the room. He was greeted with shouts and
clapping of hands, and he drew back in dismay, but Miss Annie ran to
him and led him forward. Eva McElwin, with a pout, turned to some one
and said:

"What, with that thing?"

"Oh, you've got to," was shouted. "Yes, you have."

"Well, what is expected of me?" Lyman asked.

"Why," Miss Annie cried, "you've got to marry a young lady, the belle
of Old Ebenezer."

He had often gazed at the girl, in church, had been struck by her
beauty, but had shared the belief of the envious--that she was a
charming "simpleton."

"Well, don't you think you'd better introduce us?"

"Oh, no, it will be all the funnier."

"Marry, and get acquainted afterwards, eh? Well, I guess that is the
rule in society. I beg your pardon," he added, speaking to Miss
McElwin, "for not appearing in a more appropriate garb, but as there
seems to be some hurry in the matter, I haven't the time nor the
clothes to meet a more fashionable demand. I am at your service."

He offered his arm and the girl took it with a laugh, but with more of
scorn than of good humor.

"Take your places here," Miss Annie said. And then she cried: "Oh,
where is Henry Bostic? We'll have him perform the ceremony. He'll make
it so deliriously solemn." She ran away and soon returned, with a
young man serious enough to have divided the pulpit with any circuit
rider in the country.

The ceremony was performed, and then began the congratulations. "Oh,
please quit," Miss McElwin pleaded. "I'm tired of it. Zeb," she said,
turning to a bold looking young man, "tell them to quit."

"Here," he commanded, "we've got enough of this, so let's start on
something else. Let's play old Sister Phoebe. Why the deuce won't they
let us dance?"

"Henry," said Miss Annie, stepping out upon the veranda with the
serious young man, "they always called you queer, but I must say that
you know how to perform a marriage ceremony."

"I trust so," he answered.

"You do; and when you are ordained----"

"I was ordained this morning."

"What!" she cried. "Then the marriage came near being actual. It only
required the license."

"The last legislature repealed the marriage license law," he replied.

"Me