people present, and it would not do to be outshone by them in
magnificence of toilet. Nor must I forget Bowles, who appeared shortly
after breakfast in his new livery, with a tall hat half covered with a
band and buckle, white gloves, and bright new boots and breeches. Bowles
was a figure of immense importance, and contemplated himself with an air
of amusing gravity, as he moved up and down in front of the house, much
to the amusement of the visitors at Bright's Inn. A bunch of flowers had
been provided for his button hole; and he was to drive the happy couple
to and from church, an honor he seemed to appreciate fully.

There was an interesting scene, too, at Hanz Toodleburg's little house.
Instead of making bridal presents of costly jewelry and works of art, as
is now done, the worthy settlers sent the groom's father presents of a
very different character. Hanz had found enough to do during the morning
in receiving these presents and thanking the donors. There was a pig
from farmer Tromp, a barrel of apples from neighbor Steuben, a big
cheese from farmer Van Beuskirk, a ham from the widow Welcker, a pan of
new-made sausages from farmer Deitman, and a bushel of dried apples from
Dominie Payson. In fine, one sent a cow, another a sack of wheat,
another a barrel of cider; and in that way they had well neigh stocked
Hanz's larder for the winter.

It was now nearly time for the ceremony. Neatly, but plainly dressed
people were seen treading their way toward the little church, while
around its door a number of bright-faced children, all dressed so neatly
in white, and with their hands full of flowers, stood ready to greet the
bride and bridegroom. In short, the worthy settlers had come from all
directions to witness the ceremony. There were rustics, in their simple
attire, sauntering through the old church yard, or leaning listlessly
over the paling. And there in the old belfry sat Jonas, the ringer, with
his bald head and his weeping eyes, ready to ring out a merry peal as
soon as the bride and bridegroom came in sight.

A laughing, happy throng of people filled the little church as soon as
the door was opened. Then Dominie Payson took his place at the altar;
and Hanz and Angeline, representing age beautified by simplicity, walked
slowly up the aisle, and took their place on one side, followed by
Critchel, the inn-keeper and the schoolmaster, who stood just behind
them. A few minutes later and Mrs. Chapman, arrayed in all