They're usually covered with dust.

All over—ah, thanks!—now, don't fuss, Pa!—

Just throw back my veil, Charley—there!

Oh, bother! Why couldn't he kiss me

Without mussing up all my hair!

Your arm, Charley, there goes the organ—

Who'd think there would be such a crowd!

Oh, I mustn't look round, I'd forgotten,

See, Charley, who was it that bowed?

Why—it's Nellie Allaire, with her husband—

She's awfully jealous, I know,

Most all of my things were imported,

And she had a home-made trousseau.

And there's Annie Wheeler—Kate Hermon—

I didn't expect her at all—

If she's not in that same old blue satin

She wore at the Charity Ball!

Is that Fanny Wade?—Edith Pommeton—

And Emma, and Jo—all the girls!

I knew they'd not miss my wedding—

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