The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1900-06-30
THE MARRIAGE OF HELENE.
A Paris Middle Glass Wedding.

A Paris Middle Glass Wedding.
I opened the door of my tiny fiat, and
His Majesty the Concierge stood there
skullcap in hand.
Helene is to marry on Wednesday
Monsieur-it is the young man from the
epicerie next door" q understand now
how it was that it always took pretty
little Helene twenty minutes to fetch
me twopennyworth of sugar)-'a brave
boy and in good position. | and the
mother of the child, we are both raw
ished. And now Helene, nothing VIII
satisfy her but that Monsieur snail
make the wedding with us. 1t Is lib
erty take, but Monsieur has known the
child quite small and
mot another word" l cry. "Ot
course l will come and murmuring
that / COMPOUNDED" him (the french
tongue is rich in these delightful eccel-
centricties, for I had been quite pollte),
Monsieur Pipelet made his way down 10
hia comfortable loge again.
"Wednesday came. At ten o'clock in
the morning I was fully attired in all
the glories of evening dress, my button
hole carefully widened to receive the
sprig of orange blossom which-with a
kiss on each cheek--I should pdrposely
claim from the fair Helene in return
for my wishes for her happiness and the
little goldwire bracelet with turquoise
heart which had sent down to her that
morning.
looked out of the window, and when
/ saw that the carriages were there 1
trotted down stairs, and was received IN
great state by Monsieur Pipelet and his
wife.
| I fairly gasped. The every day cos
tune OF tho Pipelet family may be
| most politely described as dishabille.
During the long years I have lived In
the house ] never remember to have
seen Father Pipelet in aught else but
shirtsleeves, or Madam P.'s buxon
form confined in corsets, but to-day, ye
gods!
Ladies first. Lend me your aid, we
writer's for the ladies' page.
Yards upon yards of brand new black
satin enveloped Madam Pipelet, and or
her ample bosom burned buckler OF
ruby colored velvet. Large gold ear
rings adorned her ears, and on her heao
but there! I will not describe hei
hat. The mines Of Klondike should no
tempt me to attempt it, for | could not
hope to do it justice.
"ForWardu cried Father Pipelet
Monsieur the Mayor will be waiting,
and with many jokes and much polite
making way for one another we entered
the glass coaches in waiting. They
were real glass coaches, mind you, cush
toned with fawn colored cushions
trimmed with white, and might have
done duty for the pumpkin coach of GIN
derella.
At the Marie not only Monsieur thu
4 Mayor, but more friends were waiting
and when we left and followed the new
1 ly married couple TO the Bots Ghere wa'
| no religious ceremony our seven glass
coaches were supplemented by two TIA
pissieres black wasonettes gay
i ly decorated with white satin favors.
i And so to the restaurant The joke
on the way were much as other wedding
party Jokes and the breakfast was nue.
as older wedding breakfasts are Thu
big gendarme came hopelesSly to grie
over his speech, and kissed prett.
bridesmaid in mistake for the bride
Father Pipelet got rather drunk, AM
: pulled the tablecloth into so many lmag
mary "cordons" that several glasse
} suffered badly. and Madam Pipele
melted into tears, although her prett.
daughter was not to 80 away any fur
Their than just next door
Then, after the bill was paid, cam
the real business of the day, the divisio
of the bridal bouquet and the honey
: moon The bridal bouquet and the kiss
: es were given (Helene Is especially mic
, to lziss), and all of US climbed into tn
carriages and waaonettes again.
: For Partisan honeymoon, when tn
honeymooners are of the middle class,
made in company, and consists of
drive all around the Bots de Boulogn
5 and games lin summer) in the gree
: glades afterward.
t What fun it was and how the peopl
| cheered us as We wenti And in tn
/, evening, after dinner that | shudde
even now to think about, we drove a
5 round the town, deposting guests as W
| went. and finally, a lonely trio. Mr. an
Mrs. Pipelet and I, dropped Helene an
| her husband at the epicerie and Wer
e oext door to bed.-Paris Correspondence
l of the London Express.