Then he kissed the bride, who had said never a word but clung to her husband; shook hands with the groom and the parson; held out his hand to the irate, booted old woman. She would have none of him, however, but folded her arms and sniffed indignantly. She made me think of:
"But Douglas 'round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms and thus he spoke:"
One couldn't help laughing at her but feeling sorry for her, too.
"She'll have to pay for this," said Father, as we started again for home. "She has been going into rages like this all her life and usually has a spell of sickness after one like to-day's."
"But, Father, you surely would not go to her after the way she spoke to you!"
"Of course I would if she needs me. Country doctors can't be too touchy. It isn't as though she could get someone else as she could in town. In cities a doctor isn't so important as he is in the country. There are always plenty more to answer a call that he turns down. I have never in my life refused a patient."
We had a quiet drive home, Father smoking his pipe, while I gave undivided attention to the prancings and shyings of the colt. I was thinking of all the happenings of the day.
"A penny for your thoughts!" he said, pinching my ear. "I bet I know what you are ruminating."
"Well!"
"You have come to the conclusion that a good deal can happen in a country neighborhood in a day: a birth, a death, a marriage and a quarrel."