Walla Walla Statesman

THE BRIDAL HANDKERCHIEF
We was all prepared to go to the wedding I was going, father was going, the gals was going, and we was going to take the baby. But come to dress the baby, I couldn't find its little linen shirt. I'd laid a clean one out of the drawer a-purpose; I knew jest where I'd put it; but come to look for it, it was gone.

'For mercy's sake,' says I, 'gals, has any of you seen that baby's shirt?'

Of course none of'em had seen it, and I looked again; but it wan't no where to be found.

'It's the strangest thing in all nature,' says I; 'here I had that shirt in my hand not more'n ten minutes ago, and now it's gone, nobody knows where! Gals,' says I, 'do look round, can't ye?'

But fretting and fuming wouldn't find it, so I went to the bureau and fished up another shirt and put it onto the baby, and at last we were ready for a start.

Father had harnessed up the double-team, and the gals were all having a good time going to see Mary Ann married; but somehow I couldn't get over that baby's shirt. 'Twasn't so much the shirt; but to have anything spirited away right from under my face and eyes, 'twas too provoking.

'What be you thinking about, mamma?' says Sophrony. 'What makes you so sober?' says she.

'I'm pestered to death thinking about that baby's shirt,' says I. 'One of you must a took it, I'm sartin,' I says.

'Now, ma,' says Sophrony-says she, 'you needn't say that.' And, as I had laid it on to them so many times, they was beginning to get vexed, and so we had it back and forth all about that baby's shirt, till we got to the wedding.

Seeing company kind 'o put it out 'o my mind, and I was gettin' good natured again, though I couldn't help but say to myself, every few minutes, what could have become of that baby's shirt? till they stood up to be married, and forgot all about it.

Mary Ann was a real modest creature, and was more'n half frightened to death when she came into the room with Stephen, and the minister told them to jine hands. She fust gave her left hand to Stephen, 'Your other hand,' says the minister, and poor Steve, he was so bashful, too, he didn't know what he was about, he thought 'twas his mistake, so he gave Mary Ann his left hand.

That wouldn't do, any way: but by this time they didn't know what they was about, and Mary Ann jined her left hand with his left, then the left with his right, and then both their left hands again, till I was all in a fidget, and thought they never would get fixed.

Mary Ann looked as red as a turkey; and to make matters worse, she began to cough -to turn it off, I s'pose-and called for a glass of water. The minister had just been drinking, and the tumbler stood right there.

I was so nervous and in such a hurry to see it all over with, that I ketched up the tumbler and run with it to her; for I thought to goodness she was going to faint. She undertook to drink. I do not know how it happened, but the tumbler slipped; and, gracious me! if, between us, we didn't spill that water all over her collar and sleeve.

I was dreadfully flustered, for it looked as though it was all my fault, and the first thing I did was to out with my handkerchief and give it to Mary Ann. I was nicely done up. She took it and shook it out.

The folks had held in putty well up to this time, but then such a giggle and laugh as there was. I didn't know what had given them such a start till I looked and see. I'd give Mary Ann that baby's shirt!

(Here Mrs. Jones, who is a big, fleshy woman, undulated and shook like a mighty jelly with mirth; and it was some time before she could proceed with her narrative.)

'Why,' continued she, while tears of laughter ran down her cheeks, 'I'd tucked it into my dress pocket instead of a handkerchief. That came of being absent-minded and in a fidget.'

'And Mary Ann and Stephen-were they married after all'

'Dear me, yes,' said Mrs. Jones; 'and it turned out the gayest wedding I ever 'tended.'