a.d. Take my cloak—and now fix my veil, Jenny;— How silly to cover one's face! I might as well be an old woman, But then there's one comfort—it's lace. Well, what has become of those ushers?— Oh, Pa, have you got my bouquet? I'll freeze standing here in the lobby, Why doesn't the organist play? They've started at last—what a bustle! Stop, Pa!—they're not far enough—wait! One minute more—now! Do keep step, Pa! There, drop my trail, Jane!—is it straight? I hope I look timid, and shrinking! The church must be perfectly full— Good gracious, please don't walk so fast, Pa! He don't seem to think that trains pull. The chancel at last—mind the step, Pa!— I don't feel embarrassed at all— But, my! What's the minister saying?
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