Ladies and gents, that infernal, low-down villain
over there has come between me and--But nobody shall say that
Charles Darwin Webster is a poor loser! Say what you please about
him, but do not say he is a short sport. It breaks my heart to do
it, but I'm coming around there to shake hands with you, old Tintype.
I'm going to congratulate you, but I'm never going to get through
hating you."
He arose and bolted around the table. Mr. Hatch got to his feet
and the long and the short man clasped hands.
"Put her there, old boy! I've already made up my mind what my wedding
present is going to be. The day before the wedding I'm coming in
and order a dozen photographs of myself,--pay for 'em in advance.
And I'm going to give every darned one of 'em to the bride, so's she
can stick 'em up all over the house just to make you feel at home,
you blamed old bachelor. And as for you, Miss Angelina Miller, the
very topmost height of my ambition will be reached in less than two
minutes after the ceremony. Because, then and there, I'm going to
kiss you. Bless you, my children. As old Rip Van Winkle used to
say, 'may you live long and brosper.'"
Having delivered himself of this felicitous speech, the somewhat
relieved Mr. Webster wiped his brow.
"What did he say?" quaked old Mrs. Nichols, putting her hand to
her ear.
"Says he hoped they'd be happy," bawled old Mr.
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