“That's the way I'll look when we've been married a few years,” said Carl.
“Worse than that,” returned Ruth, gravely. “I'm sorry for you, even now.”
“You needn't be proud and haughty just because you've had a wedding at your house—we're going to have one at ours.”
“At ours?”
“At the 'Widder's,' I mean, this very evening.”
“That's nice,” answered Ruth, refusing to ask the question.
“It's Joe and Hepsey,” he continued, “and I thought perhaps you might stoop low enough to assist me in selecting an appropriate wedding gift in yonder seething mart. I feel greatly indebted to them.”
“Why, of course I will; it's quite sudden, isn't it?” “Far be it from me to say so. However, it's the most reversed wedding I ever heard of. A marriage at the home of the groom, to say the least, is unusual. Moreover, the 'Widder' Pendleton is to take the bridal tour and leave the happy couple at home. She's going to visit a relative who is distant in both position and relationship—all unknown to the relative, I fancy. She starts immediately after the ceremony and it seems to me that it would be a pious notion to throw rice and old shoes after her.”
“Why, Carl! You don't want to maim her, do you?”
“I wouldn't mind. If it hadn't been for my ostrich-like digestion, I wouldn't have had anything to worry about by this time. However, if you insist, I will throw the rice and let you heave the shoes. If you have the precision of aim which distinguishes your sex, the 'Widder' will escape uninjured.”