At last, when every indignant friend had sent in a contribution, when all the dresses were made, the bonnets constructed, and the frippery and fiddle-faddle and frills arranged, the day of the wedding came. It must be described, of course. But why should an unpractised hand attempt to tell of it, when there is, within easy reach, the narrative written by the expert and dexterous fashion reporter of the Daily Crab? Far better would it be to transfer bodily to these pages that faithful and complete description.
(From the “Daily Crab.”)
A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE.
“St. Cadmus’s Church, Perkiomen Square, yesterday was the scene of one of the most brilliant weddings of the season. For some weeks past the approaching event has been an absorbing topic of conversation in fashionable circles, the loveliness of the bride-elect, the popularity of the fortunate groom, and the high social standing of all the interested parties having invested the matter with more than ordinary importance. The bride was Miss Leonie Cowdrick, only daughter of the well-known ex-banker and philanthropist, Henry G. Cowdrick, Esq., and herself one of the leading belles of the bon ton. The groom was Julius Weems, Esq., the artist, a man whose skill as a wielder of the brush, not less than his qualities of head and heart, have made him the idol of a large circle of friends.
“The wedding ceremony was announced for half-past four in the afternoon; and long before that hour the streets in the vicinity of St. Cadmus’s were thronged with equipages belonging to the élite of our society. None were admitted to the church but those who were so happy as to possess cards; the edifice, however, was densely thronged, with the exception of the pews which were reserved in the front for the immediate family and near relatives of the high contracting parties.
“The ushers, who officiated with rare delicacy and discrimination, were Messrs. Peter B. Thomas, Arthur McGinn Dabney, G. G. Parker, and Daniel O’Huff—all of them brother artists of the groom’s, and men well known in cultivated circles.
“Professor Peddle presided at the organ, and previous to the arrival of the bridal party he discoursed most delicious music.
“Among the distinguished persons who graced the occasion with their presence, we noted the following:—
“Major-Gen. Bung, Colonel Growler, Professor Boodle, Rev. Dr. Wattles, Judge Potthinkle, Captain Dingus, Major Doolittle, Hon. John Gigg, M.C., Judge Snoozer, of the Supreme Court; Miss Delilah Hopper (Minnie Myrtle), the famous authoress of ‘The Bride of an Evening,’ ‘A Broken Heart,’ etc., etc., Professor Blizzard, State Entomologist; Governor Tilby, Ex-Governor Raffles, Dr. Borer, U.S.A.; Rear-Admiral Mizzen, U.S.N.; Senator Smoot, Signor Portulacca, the Venezuelan Ambassador, General Curculio, Minister from Nicaragua; General Whisker, the railroad magnate; Colonel and Mrs. Grabeau, Dr. Hummer, Thos. G. Witt, Esq., Hon. John Grubb, Captain Mahoney, of the State Militia; Professor Smith, of the University; Galusha M. Budd, President of the Board of Trade; Hon. P. R. Bixby, Mayor of the City; and many others.
“At precisely five o’clock, Rev. Mr. Tunicle entered the church in full ecclesiastical vestments, accompanied by Rev. Dr. Pillsbury, and by Rev. John A. Stapleton, an uncle of the bride’s. At this juncture the organ sounded the first notes of the Coronation March from ‘Il Prophete,’ and the bride entered upon the arm of her father. Following her came the groom, with Miss Lillie Whackle, the first bridesmaid, and these were succeeded by the remainder of the bridal party.
“The bride was dressed with exquisite taste, in a white satin costume, which had creamy lace in jabots down the waist and sides, mingled with pearl trimmings; while the sleeves coming only to the elbow, were made entirely of lace. The back was left quite plain, with waist and skirt in one. Upon her head she wore a dainty wreath of orange blossoms, and, of course, the usual veil.
“Among other costumes in the bridal party, we noticed a Lyons tulle, made up over satin, with flowing rosettes, and ribbons of white satin for trimming.
“Attention was directed also to a white tarletan trimmed with Breton lace and insertions, and covered with bows and loops and ends of satin ribbon.
“One of the ladies of the party wore a distinguished costume of cream-colored satin, with paniers of Pekin grenadine, with stripes of white alternating with stripes of cream-color; there was a satin corsage, plain, like a basque; and across the front-breadths of the skirt there were soft puffs of satin and grenadine.
“Mrs. Cowdrick, the mother of the bride, appeared in a regal toilette of black velvet and diamonds.
“The ceremony was read in a deeply impressive manner by Rev. Mr. Tunicle, the bride being given away, of course, by her father.
“Mrs. Cowdrick was so strongly affected by the consciousness that her daughter was being taken from her, that at the conclusion of the ceremony she displayed some slight hysterical symptoms, which for a moment threatened to create confusion. She became calmer, however, and was led out from the church by one of the ushers, weeping.
“Professor Peddle then began Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, and the proud and happy groom, with his lovely wife upon his arm, turned to lead the bridal party down the aisle.
“We learn that a magnificent entertainment was given later in the day at the residence of Mr. Cowdrick, to his friends, and that the festivities were prolonged until a late hour. It is understood that the newly-married couple will spend their honeymoon at Saratoga.”
The reporter was not admitted to the entertainment, and so there is upon record no description of it. But we might, if we chose, safely guess at hot rooms, so crowded that motion was nearly impossible; at absurd attempts to dance within narrow spaces; at rows of wall-flowers along the sides of the rooms; at inane attempts at conversation between guests who were strangers to each other; of groups of uncomfortable people trying to appear as if they felt very happy; of a supper-table loaded with rich viands for which well-dressed men scrambled as if they had been fasting for weeks; of ices spilled upon costly dresses, and champagne glasses emptied upon fine coats; and, finally, of departing guests in the gentlemen’s dressing-rooms, saying unhandsome things to each other in sneering whispers of the man whose hospitality they had accepted.
We can imagine these things; and perhaps if we could have looked into the house at two o’clock in the morning when the last guest had said farewell, we might have heard Mr. Cowdrick say, as he threw himself weary and worn in an easy-chair,—
“Well, thank goodness, Louisa, Leonie is off of our hands at last!”
AN OLD FOGY.
“The good old times! And the old times were good, my dear; better, much better, than the times that you live in. I know I am an old fogy, Nelly,” said Ephraim Batterby, refilling his pipe, and looking at his granddaughter, who sat with him in front of the fire, with her head bending over her sewing; “I know I am an old fogy, and I glory in it.”
“But you never will be for me, grandpa,” said Nelly, glancing at him with a smile.