And sit, and keep sitting.
The groom was, as usual, a little too late—
Procrastination, of all things, I hate!—
His cravat, then, was tied in a great crooked bow.
Our trunks must be packed, all ready to go—
I was no more a teacher.
Then, when in the cab, at last, ready were seated,
Lo! some one behind ran crying, o'erheated,
"You've not paid the preacher!"
Perplexities numberless, little and large,