Once more Quincy’s breakfast was on the stove being kept warm, and once more Mrs. Hawkins was waiting impatiently for him to come down.

Betsy Green and she were washing the breakfast dishes.  How happy Eve must have been in Eden, where there was no china, no knives and forks, and no pots and kettles, and what an endless burden of commonplace drudgery she entailed upon her fair sisters when she fell from her high estate.  Man’s labor is uniformly productive, but woman’s, alas! is still almost as uniformly simply preservative.

“Mr. Sawyer,” said Mrs. Hawkins to Betsy Green, “is no doubt a very nice young man, but I shouldn’t want him for a steady boarder, ’less he got up on time and eat his meals reg’lar.”

“I s’pose he’s all tired out,” remarked Betsy.  “He had a pretty hard day of it yesterday, you know, Mis’ Hawkins.”

“Wall, I s’pose I ought to be kinder easy on him on that account.  I must say he managed things fust rate.”

“How did the brides look?” asked Betsy.

Poor girl, she was one of the few who were not able to view the grand sight.

“I can think of no word to express my feelin’s,” replied Mrs. Hawkins after a pause, “but splendiferous!  Huldy’s dress was a white satin that would a stood alone.  She had a overskirt of netted white silk cord, heavy enough to use for a hammock.  You know she’s neither light nor dark, kind of a between, but she looked mighty poorty all the same.”

“Was Tilly James dressed in white, too?” inquired Betsy.

“No,” answered Mrs. Hawkins.  “She wore a very light pink silk, with a lace overskirt, and it just matched her black eyes and black hair fine, I can tell yer.”

“Mandy must have looked pretty, with her light curly hair and blue eyes, and those rosy cheeks.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Hawkins reflectively, “I’m her mother, and a course I’m prejoodished, but I honestly think she was the best lookin’ one of the three.  Of course Hiram is no beauty, and I’m all out of patience when he tries to talk to me.  But I know he’ll make Mandy a good husband, and that’s a tarnal sight better’n good looks.”

“What color was Mandy’s dress?” persisted Betsy.

“Lord a massy,” cried Mrs. Hawkins, “I e’en a’most forgot to tell yer.  Her dress was a very light blue silk, with a lace overskirt, ’bout the same as Tilly’s.  Mr. Sawyer gave her two hundred dollars to buy her things with, ’cause she’s been so nice to him since he boarded at Pettengill’s.”

“Who was that stylish lookin’ lady that came in a carriage with the four beautiful horses?  I saw her outer the attic winder.”

“She was a Mrs. Chessman,” replied Mrs. Hawkins.  I heern tell she’s a widder’d aunt of Mr. Sawyer’s, and she’s as rich as Creazers.”

“How rich is that?” inquired Betsey, with an astonished look.

“Creazers,” replied Mrs. Hawkins, with an expression that savored of erudition, “was a man who was so all fired rich that he had to hire folks to spend his money for him.”