Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1896 — WEDDING GIFTS. [ARTICLE]

WEDDING GIFTS.

“Pooh! Presents!” said the Old Married Man to the bridegroom. “Don’t think you’ll get what you want. I’ll tell you my experience. “As the time for our marriage drew near I used to call at the house every available evening and whisper confidentially to the curly head which exactly fitted my shoulder that I was the luckiest fellow on earth. On one occasion Agnes sighed and murmured dreamily that that was just what she felt “That was on the sth. “On the 12th I stopped in a minute at noon to see if she loved me ns much as at 11.15 the night before. She replied that she did—that love was unalterable —but that she must hurry upstairs now or the dressmaker would get her skirt flute-shaped instead of organ-piped. “On the 14th the presents began to arrive—also the relatives. It became an unsettled problem which of the two were more numerous. Aggie had cousins once removed, I had several uncles and aunts, All were well off; in fact, it was a curious coincidence that we were the only poor branches on our respective family trees. I was in an insurance office—fire insurance, not lire insurance—and when I had communicated to her the news of my recent protpotioh she had promptly declared in the face of her family’s unaccountable preference for Henry Walker (who was not so good a fellow as I by any manner of means) that to be Mrs. Joseph Lounsbury and live in a small house on a very small income and bliss was precisely her ideal of existence. So we were not marrying as a speculation; nevertheless, since marriage comes so seldom in one’s life, we had hopes that our moneyed relatives would do the handsome thing. “They did. First came a complete set of knives, forks and spoons in a polished wood ease. They were from the cousin Aggie had been named for. ‘Such a sensible present’.’ said her mother; ’they will last a lifetime.’ “ ‘Yes,’ s:»id I, ‘it will take us a good while to wear all those out two at a time.’

“ ‘Don’t you suppose we’re ever going to entertain any company, Joe?’ asked the girl of my affection, tapping me on the cheek with one of the forks. “The same night I had a note from her, saying: ‘Dearest Joe, you ought to see the lovely after dinner coffee spoons Second Cousin Mllly has sent — no two alike. Orange plush case. Isn’t is exciting? Don’t tell, dear, but I almost wish they’d been something else, for I think some of the girls are going to give me spoons.’ The rest of this letter was not interesting—to you. “This was the beginning of an avalanche of spoons—Charter Oak kikkius,

nutmeg spoons, soldiers’ monument! spoons, witch spoons, bust spoons, por- | trait spoons (I called these last our picture gallery, and suggested that they should be framed in ribbons and hung up In the parlor). One of our friends sent a pair of salted-almond spoons, * hoping that we would exchange them if j they were duplicated, but It turned out that those were the only ones we had. The sugar spoons were all marked. There were five of them. “It is a time-honored custom in our office when one of us is married for the rest to ‘combine’ and buy a picture; and you could generally tell what year a man's wedding came off by a glance at his parlor wall. Williams, who was married in ’B4, had ‘Far Away’; Brown’s, a few years later, was ‘The Three Fates.’ Ours was, of course, the latest thing out. It had a silver frame. “As the days went by and pieces of Silver piled up on us I was more than once reminded of the couple whose courtship was conducted in Browningese, and who were fitted out by their admiring friends with a Browning tea set, with quotations around the edge. ‘Oh, the little more, and how much it is!’ The Fords had a run on china, but a good deal of it got broken the first year. The Smiths’ specialty was etchings; they had enough for every room in the house—only, they never had a home; they have boarded ever since they were married. Finally the climax came, when my old Uncle John sent us a solid silver tea set I hadn’t expected anything from him, unless perhaps a Bible or a Webster’s Unabridged, for he didn’t enjoy giving anything away. Aggie was getting too tired to be very enthusiastic, but her mother was delighted, and it was no use thinking that I would just as soon have had the money. ‘“This makes 103, dear—nine more than Susie Fish had,’ said her sister. " One hundred and two,’ said Aggie. “ ‘No, dear, 103 —102 came this morning.’ “ *Oh, I know 1 shall never get this list right!’ exclaimed Aggie, diving for her blank book. *“Look out, or you’ll be handing that book to the parson for a prayer- «•*’ •*><> I-

“‘Wouldn't be a bit surprised,’ she answered, smiling; Aggie could smile when she was tired. “Well, we were married. A man breathes easier wheu it’s over with. ‘But, Aggie,’ I said, as the carriage door slammed ou us, ‘if it ever happens to us again, let’s leave out the heathen superstitions.’ “'I know it,’ said Aggie. ‘I begged them not, but they would smuggle some in. See any in my hair?* “ ‘Some in your hat brim,’ Ibrushed her off, and she seized the newspaper I had carefully brought along to look like an old married man, and conjured with it a minute, holding it out by an improvised handle. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘the very children in kintergarten know how to make paper dustpans— now* brush the carriage seat.’ When we got out I gave the hackman a dustpanful of rice with a bill on top. There, burn it,’ said I. “ ’Did you see him chortle in his Joy? 1 said Aggie, giggling; ‘Joe, do you feel like a married couple?’ “ ‘Lots,’ said I. “Our ten days in Washington had only one bogie—the blank book. Aggie said she must finish her notes. All I could do was to sit by and fret, and put ou the stamps; and she told me I hindered her more than I helped, and slit* was awfully glad to have me around, it made her reel better.

■ “We began housekeeping in a cheerful way in a little house on a new street. It was something like to come home to one’s own dinner table. We had so much silver that it looked funny with our plain china— nobody had given us a lot of ice-cream sets and things. I tell you marriage is a lottery when it comes to wedding presents. I liked seeing Aggie’s face in the sugar bowl, though. Every night the little maid (imported to live up to the spoons) brought them and all the rest upstairs on a tray, and we packed them away in the chest we had made, and a pretty penny it cost, with its combination lock, which went into the end of the closet where nobody could get at it. One night we came home at 12 from a reception, and as we stole upstairs not to wake the sleeping handmaiden, Aggie so sleepy herself that she tripped on her wedding gown and I had to hold her, we came upon the whole array on the floor outside our door.

“ ‘lsn’t it imposing? so safe!’ said I, but Aggie said, desperately, ‘I shan’t care anything about going out evenings any more if I’ve got to put that silver away after I get home.’ “ ‘Let it stay there.’ “ ‘Oh, I can’t. Mamma thinks we’re so careless. We dou’t appreciate things enough. She says, if any one had given her such elegant tilings when she was married she wouldn’t have dared to close her eyes!' “ ‘Take more than that to keep my eyes open,’ But I helped Agnes to shove the tray under a chair, and drape the train of her wedding dress over it. “ ‘What on earth are you doing, Aggie?’ I asked, on coming in for dinner one day. All I could see was one foot and a skirt ruffle in the closet. “Aggie Scrambled up enough to catch me round my knee. ‘Oh, Joe, I’m so glad you’ve come!’ “ ‘What is it? You’re ready to cry.’ “‘That’s what I like about you; you don’t have to be explained to. Henry Walker wouldn’t have known I felt like crying if I’d screamed it at him!’ “That made me feel pretty good (though dinner wasn’t ready). ‘But what?’ “ ‘lt’s the silver! I came up to change the forks and spoons so they should get worn alike, and I’ve shut the paper with the combination in the chest, and I can’t remember what it was!’ “I got down beside her. It was hotter than Mexico in that closet I turned and tried the lock. ‘Do keep your dresses out of the way, they tickle the back of my neck.’ No good. ‘Well, I guess we’ll use the old forks to-day,” said I; ‘I don’t believe they’ll fade away yet awhile.’

“ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry—but—they’re every one shut up in that chest.’ So we laughed. What else was there to do? It was so funny when Deming came home with me to tea—we’d asked him some days before. It wouldn’t have been funny with some girls. The table looked principally white china, and the kitchen knives and fork didn’t go ! round. Ever cut omelet with a pewter i spoon? It is great. “It wasn’t quite so funny when three hot days had gone by and we had nearly smothered sojourning in the closet, and no news of the combination. ‘Don’t tell mamma!’ pleaded my wife. I began to think I should have to call in a locksmith, when one evening Aggie startled me by jumping out of bed crying. ‘l’ve got it! I’ve got it!’ “ ‘Got wliut—a nightmare?’ “’l’ve got the combination! I’ve been working on it all the time, and it just came to me in my sleep. Get right up, Joe, and hold the light, and mind you don’t set anything on fire.’ In another two minutes the front of the front of the chest fell down, and behold our household gods! ‘lf anybody wants to steal them between now and daylight, they can, that’s all,’ said Aggie; ‘but I’m not going to shut that lock again to-night for nobody!” “In the fall there was a burglar scare about town, and Agnes’s mother came over and gave her a lecture upon locking the windows. She said we really ought to have a burglar alarm. To please her I had one put in. Election night I went down to town, telling Aggie not to sit up for me, for I should wait for the returns. It was 1 o’clock j when I opened the front door very softj ly, not to disturb Agnes. Br-r-r-br-r-ke--1 plunk!’ I had forgotten the alarm. “Before I had time to say a word or even turn down my coat collar, my wife | appeared at the head of the stairs. She j pointed a pistol at me. Her hair hung loose, and she was in her—well, never mind; but she looked distractingly pretty. “ ‘lf you come one step further I’ll fire!’ she cried. “ ‘lt’s Joe, Agnes,’ said I, meekly. “‘I don’t believe it! Take off your hat!”

“l took it off and made her a low bow. ‘Don’t shoot your husband, he’s doing the best he can.* “Agnes laughed hysterically. ‘Oh, Joe, I was so frightened.’ “‘And to think you should point a pistol at your own husband!’ “ Tt wasn’t loaded, Joe.’ “ ‘Agnes Lounsbury,’ Bald I, ‘do you mean to say you were so rash as to aim at me with a pistol that wasn’t loaded?’

“ ‘But I shouldn’t have fired It, anyway, it wasn’t cocked.’ “ ‘Well, this ends the watchman burglar alarm business,' said I. ‘We’ve had about as much of it as we want To-morrow we’ll decide what silver we want to use every day, and the rest shall go down to the bank.’ “We’re able to breathe now. The silver stand on the sideboard, and as yet nobody has carried it off, if they do, Agnes’s mother will say she expected It, for we aren’t the careful people they used to be in her generation. Once in a while Aggie quarrels with me because some dish or other that would make a show for company is at the bank, and I don’t see my way clear to bring it home under my arm. ‘You can have them all home and trust to luck if you’d rather,’ I say. “ ‘l’d rather they were at the bank, because then I should have them, you know.’ “ ‘Don’t see it,’ said I; ‘but its just as you say.’ “When our anniversary came around we had a present and a note from one of Agnes’s elderly friends. The note ran this way: “ ‘My dear Mrs. Lounsbury: We send you our best congratulations on your anniversary. My husband will have his little joke you know; and as some one told him that the Lounsburys hpd so much silver given them on their wed-

ding that It was a positive embarrassment to them, he says you ought to be ashamed of being such at your age, while the older generation lias not even accumulated souvenir spoons, and sends you this little gift to remind you of the fact, “ *Oh, Joe! it’s silver!’ for I had punched a hole in the paper. ‘No, it isn’t, no, it isn’t, it’s plaited. We can keep it. It’s a pudding dish, or for oysters, you know. How kind. And plaited, too. It didn’t cost much, Joe, did it?’ “ ‘A few dollars, I should think.’ “ ‘How good! Perhaps even less, Joe?’ “ ‘Perhaps so; it’s rather light weight. “ ‘lsn’t it delightful? We’ll have some oysters in it to-morrow night, and ask them over to tea.’ “‘I should feel dreadfully to have that takeD,’ I heard her murmur that evening. “ ‘What for?’ “ ‘Because it’s such a comfort to have one thing that you don’t care whether it’s stolen or not.’ “ ‘You’re getting sleepy, Aggie. But I know one thing that “goes on, goes on forever.’ ” “ ‘What?’ “ ‘Our storage rent. I reckon in a few years we’ll have paid for the whole outfit, and then we’ll fetch it home and keep open house for burglars with a clean conscience.’ “ ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Joe,’ said my wife.”