A Colonial Wooing
but it gets by them and runs on smoothly as before; so I bubble and boil over when I meet with a bird or a flower or hear Pearson's pretty harp on the window-seat, but I never leave the channel of my life and find myself floundering out of my element; so in the end—well, mother, who, after all, knows about the end? Friend Bunting and Friend Stacy preach and pray, pray and preach, but, mother, do they know, know all about the mystery of a human life? Does thee suppose Friend Bunting will be preaching at me all Fifth day morning? If so, I shall close my ears."
Fifth day came, sunny, warm, and with that gentle westward breeze that has been aptly called the breath of spring. An hour or more before meeting was called the Friends came, in carts, on horseback, and on foot. They gathered in little knots about Matthew Watson's yard, and Matthew himself was in his element. Never had he been so satisfied with the world and with himself. He was a central figure to-day, and never
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