iotts were a little crossed.

Prudence Ann would not face the reality till after the Sabbath was
past. On that day the expectant bridegroom managed to break his way
through the drifts from Hebron, and he was truly grieved, as he should
have been, at the very unhappy state of mind of his betrothed. He
avowed himself, however, in a way which augured well for the young
people's future, ready to do just what Prudence Ann and her family
decided was best.

On Monday morning Mistress Elliott sat down with her unreasonable
daughter and had a serious talk with her.

"Now, Prudence Ann," she began, "you must give up crying and fretting.
If you are going to be married on Thursday, we have got a great deal
of work to do between now and then. If you are going to wait till
next week, I want to know it. Of course you can't have a large party,
if you choose to be married on the 4th, but we will ask John's folks
and Aunt Susanna and Uncle Martin and Parson Camberley and his wife.
We can bake enough for them with what's in the house. If you wait
another week, you can probably have a better party--and now you have
it all in a nutshell."

Prudence Ann was hysterical even yet, but at last her terror of a
postponed wedding overcame every other consideration. The day was set
for the 4th, and the few guests were bidden accordingly.

On the morning of the wedding, on a neat shelf in the back kitchen of
the Elliott residence, various delicacies were resting, which had been
baked for the banquet. Mistress Elliott's molasses had sufficed to
make a vast cake and several pumpkin pies. These, hot from the oven,
had been placed in the coolness of the back kitchen until they should
be ready for eating.

It so happened that Miss Hitty Belding's sharp eyes, as she passed
Mistress Elliott's back door, bound on an errand to the house of the
neighbour living just beyond, fell upon the rich golden brown of this
wonderful cake. As such toothsome dainties were rare in Colchester at
just this time, it is not strange that her childish soul coveted it,
for Hitty was but ten years old. As she walked on she met Obed Ely.

"I tell you what, Obed," said Miss Hitty, "you ought to see the great
molasses cake which Mistress Elliott has made for Prudence Ann's
wedding. It is in her back kitchen. I saw it right by the door. Mean
old thing! She wouldn't lend my mother any molasses to make _us_ a
cake. I wish I had hers!"

"So do I!" rejoined Obed, with watering l