THE WEDDING TOUR. 223 “ Well, as good as,” said Nate; “going to be, when she gets through her education. And her father’s going to order the reception dinner from Boston. Nita says she’s going to wear white satin. She’s awful set up.” “The deception dinner!” said Trotty, hoarsely. “ White satin! Married! WuHo’s THE MAN?” “0, I thought you knew that,” said Nate. “It’s Pompey Merino.” “ Well—” said Trotty after a long silence, “I never did fink so much of that girl as I purtended to. If it had n't been for the jelly-cake, I would n’t have cared.” “ T’ll take you on a wedding tour,” said his mother that afternoon, seeing that he looked a little sober about the cor- ners of the mouth, — not that he minded about Merle now, but Pompey! That it should always be Pompey who got the best of everything ! “T’ll go with you on a journey,” said his mother ; “ it will be a wide world nicer. It is so silly for little boys and girls to play such notions, Trotty! Come! don’t you feel a lit- tle bit foolish about Merle?” “ Merle was the foolest,” pleaded Trotty, “ owning up,” however, by the brightest, reddest, prettiest little flash of color that went travelling all over his cheeks and up to hide among the ruin of what had been his long curls. Max had them cut off. “The woman that thou gavest me!” laughed his mother. “ What um ?” asked Trotty, blankly. “ Where shall we go, for our journey ?”’ said his mother.