"I always did like the young gentleman--I am sure I always did," she added, with an air of condescension. "My daughter knows I always did. It was not on the young gentleman's account that I entertained a little misgiving (just a little) in reconciling the family connection." Pausing suddenly, the lady turned to Mattie in a somewhat confused manner: "My daughter, my daughter," she returned, "you must overlook a number of little things. You will--won't you? Now, don't say I am vain. But it was such a queer--yes, such a vulgar and very common name to carry into society."

"There's just one favor I have to ask, my daughter. I am sure the young gentleman won't object to it--I am sure he won't." Again Mrs. Chapman paused, and seemed a little confused.

"Certainly, ma, certainly," replied Mattie, with a pleasant smile, "anything to please my dear mother."

"Well, then," resumed Mrs. Chapman, mildly: "There'll be no harm in changing the name a little--just a little, for the sake of the effect it will have on society. The young gentleman, I am sure he will (he has got the means to do it, you see) set up a nice establishment in the city, and (looking forward a little, you know) you will have a set of society of your own. Things change so, you see. You wouldn't mind changing the name so that it will read Von Toodleburg? T.B. Von Toodleburg would be so much nicer."

I may mention here that such was the name the family took and flourished under at a subsequent period, as will appear in the second series of this work.

"Fix things, name and all, to your liking, my dear mother," replied Mattie, laughing heartily. "I don't believe t.i.te cares anything about it."

"Never was ashamed of my name," replied t.i.te, with an air of indifference, "never was. But it doesn't matter much what a man's name is. They used to call me all sorts of names at sea."

"Another little harmless request," resumed Mrs. Chapman, with a condescending bow. "You see there is Bowles. Bowles is such an excellent servant, and so very respectable. He has such a presentable appearance when in his livery. I have great respect for Bowles--he understands me so well. You won't have any objection to his having a fixed position in the family, will you?"

Mattie blushed, and drawing her mother aside, whispered in her ear: "We can settle such matters, my dear mother, when others of more importance are disposed of."

"But you know, my daughter," she returned, with an air of great seriousness, "he has done so much to make these common country people understand what our position was in the city."

Two weeks were pa.s.sed in making preparations for the wedding. And now the day was come, and that ceremony that was to unite two loving hearts for weal or woe, which was to seal their fortunes in one bond, was to be performed in the little old church, quietly and unostentatiously, by Dominie Payson, for it had been settled after some reluctance on the part of Mrs. Chapman, that the job could be done by that worthy divine, and the world think none the less of the young people.

Nyack, my reader must know, was in the best of humor that day, and when it was four o'clock, appeared in a smiling face, and dressed in it's best clothes. Chapman, I may also mention, forgot his misfortunes, and for once appeared neat and tidy, and in a happy mood. Indeed he had kissed and congratulated his daughter several times during the day. He had also unburdened his heart by telling her how happy he felt that the family had escaped disgrace in the city. He had, indeed, something to be thankful for, since Gusher had been taken back to New Orleans, tried, convicted of his crimes, and sent for two years at hard labor in the penitentiary.

Mrs. Chapman, remembering that such events did not occur every day, resolved not to be outdone by any of them. She was sure a little display would not be wasted; and had spent four hours "getting herself elegant."

She had more than half a suspicion that there would be some New York 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 amus.e.m.e.nt of the visitors at Bright's Inn. A bunch of flowers had been provided for his b.u.t.ton 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 the majesty of her best wardrobe entered, accompanied by her meek little husband, and took their places on the opposite side, presenting such a contrast of characters. The picture only wanted the central figures now.

A few minutes more, and there was a sudden, anxious movement on the part of those inside. All eyes were turned towards the door. The bridal party had arrived. Old Jonas was ringing his bell. The children at the door were tossing flowers at their feet; and their voices were heard singing a sweet and touching song. Then the bridal party advanced up the aisle, the bride dressed in simple white, and with flowers in her golden hair, and looking so sweetly. And as they took their place before the altar, there was something so full of love and gentleness, of truth and purity, in that sweet face as Mattie looked up and calmly surveyed the scene, that it seemed as if earth had nothing to compare with it.

And as the simple, but impressive ceremony proceeded, and the young lovers once more pledged their love, and made that solemn vow never to separate until death comes, and knelt in prayer to sanctify it; and as the Dominie blessed them, and p.r.o.nounced a benediction, and as the soft rays of the setting sun played over and lighted up that beautiful face, it seemed as if some gentle spirit, sent from on high, was hovering over the scene and whispering Amen.