The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1893-07-29

If did not graduate, | was to be-
married by 2 O clock noon on the day
| became IL years old. Moreover, /
old Parson Baker was alive, he was tt
do the job. In the event of my failure
for any cause, to meet these conditions
| was to have 81, 900, and the rest afte
mothers death was to 60 to father
three nephews, who were ploddins
farmers in an adjacent country.
Now here was nice layout. l wa
not engaged, and the girl whom
thought of in this connection was the
daughter of a widow living down tht
road about two miles, whose face | hac
washed with snow and who had spelled
me doan in the district school, both
times innuInerable.
Parso1 Baker lived in little village
IS miles down the pike where there
was neither railroad nor telegraph
station. l explained the situation &c
the young lady and she blushingly con.
sented. Why shouldn't she2 She
had known me nearly all her life, and
there were S4oo,o 900 and reasonably
good looking husband in it.
So far everything was easy. There
were vet IS hours before the limit o.
time should expire, and we felt safe
| put the best rider among our neigh
Dor boys on our fastest saddle horse
and started him off to get Parson Baker
requesting him on no account to tai
to be at our farm by II O. clock the
next day.
The young man started about
O'Clock in the evening in heavy rain
and made the preachers about II
O'Clock that night. The preacher told
him to remain until next morning tC
rest his horse, while Baker saddled his
own and was away by O'Clock in the
morning, simply telling his aged wife
that he was called to his circuit on i'm
portant business.
Not five miles from home the plucky
preacher found his road barred by a
washed out bridge, and he was Obliged
to make long detour-II miles
to get back TO his road beyond the
gap.
From here on he was singularly un-
fortunate. His horse picked up a stone
and went lame, and halts at three or
four farm houses were made before he
got another.
By this time it was O'Clock, and
he was yet "a muddy miles from our
house and rain falling in sheets. Many
an old man of 10 years would have
given over his pursuit of an uncertainty
for he didn't know what was the
matter.
But l never stopped 10 think what
the business was, he SAID to me after
ward. l simply knew that | was to
get there-the Lord Willingly II
o'clock.
At 1870 the grand old fellow was
within a mile of the house. He had
come to what he thought was an over
flowed bridge across a little brook
emptying into the Scioto river at his
left, but he had no idea that the bridge
itself was gone, for he had crossed
several such places on his road. He
urged his horse forward, and plump
into feet OF water they went between
the abutments.
The horse was game as well as his
master and SWAN to the fenced slCe of
the road, whsre he got his footing,
the water being there about three feet
deep.
The parson threw the bride over the
fence rail and left his painting and ex-
hausted steed, taking across the fields
to the house and saving a mile thereby.
The lawyer saw him coming and met
him in the middle of that meadow be-
fore US. He explained the business in
40 words.
Have they got the license7 was his
only question.
The license was all right.
Get them out on the porch, said
Baker. and the lawyer left him swash
ing over the fence and hurried into the
house. 1t was now 1855 O'Clock.
We were all on the porch in quarter
of minute.
As Baker hove up and cane to a
halt on the walk, his rough jeans suit
streaming muddy water, the lawyer
handed him the license over the railing
He glanced at it front and back-he
knew all its points by heart-and then
off came his white beaver hat.
JOIN your right hands.
Mary do you take this man for your
husband.
| do.
George, do you take this woman for
your wife.
| do.
Then, by the authority vested in me
by TIE Methodist Episcopal church
and the laws of Ohio, l pronounce you
man and wife. Whom God hath
joined together let no man put asun-
der.
Involuntarily | pulled out my watch
without even stopping to kiss the
bride. 1t wanted four minutes to II.
That ceremony had been performed
IN 80 seconds. The preacher was the
first to break the silence, that you can
see must have been little awkard, by
saying:
George, my horse is standing in three
feet OF water down by the branch. /
wish you'd get him up here.