"My roast!" screamed my wife, and dashed madly indoors, followed obediently by her husband.
After we had rescued the roast we returned to the porch.
A lot of idiots were throwing rice and shoes and flowers up the street. We followed the line of attack and there was the carriage, being hauled off by galloping horses to catch a train for Niagara Falls, with a slipper rattling out behind, and a streamer bearing the legend:
WE ARE JUST MARRIED!
"And to think," said my wife, "that after all my sisterly solicitude I have never seen the bride!"
"Nor the groom," I ventured.
"Oh, well," she said, "he doesn't count—now!"
And I reckon there may be something in that.
FINIS.