The guests were all assembled. It was now time for the bridal train to go down stairs and have the ceremony performed. As the children left the chamber, uncertain what to do, but resolved that whichever "stood up," the other would sit down, Johnny seized a bottle of panacea which stood on the mantel, and wet the corner of Dotty's handkerchief.
"There is some sirup worth having," said he; "stronger than yours. Rub it in your eyes, and see if it isn't."
The boy did not mean what he said, or at any rate we will hope he did not; but Dotty, in her haste and agitation, obeyed him without stopping one moment to think.
Instantly the wedding was forgotten, the bouquet-holder, the anger, the disappointment, and everything else but the agony in her eyes. It was so dreadful that she could only scream, and spin round and round like a top.
A scene of confusion followed. The poor child was so frantic that her father was obliged to hold her by main force, while her mother tried to bathe her eyes with cold water. They were fearfully inflamed, and for a whole hour the wedding was delayed, while poor Dotty lay struggling in her father's arms, or tore about the nursery like a wild creature.
Johnny was very sorry. He said he did not know what was in the bottle; he had sprinkled his cousin's handkerchief in sport.
"She talks so much about her 'nightly blue sirreup,'" said he to his mother, "that I thought I would tease her a little speck."
"I don't know but you have put her eyes out," said his mother, severely.
"O, do you think so?" wailed Johnny. "O, don't say so, mother!"
"I hope not, my child; but panacea is a very powerful thing. I don't know precisely what is in it, but you have certainly tried a dangerous experiment."