irs.
There was a double wedding on the memorable day when John Ranger, Junior, and pretty Annie Robinson, the belle of Pleasant Prairie, linked their destinies together in marriage; and when, without previous notice to the assembled multitude or any other parties but their parents, the preacher, and the necessary legal authorities, Elijah Robinson and Mary Ranger took their allotted places beside their brother and sister, as candidates for matrimony, the festivities were doubled in interest and rejoicing.
"It seems but yesterday since our bonnie bairns were babes in arms," said the elder Mrs. Robinson, as she advanced with Mrs. Ranger mire to give a tearful greeting to each newly wedded pair. And there was scarcely a dry eye in the assembled multitude when the mother's voice arose in a shrill treble as she sang, in the ears of the startled listeners, from an old Scottish ballad the words, —
"An' I can scarce believe it true, So late thy life began. The playful bairn I fondled then Stands by me now, a man!"
Her voice, which at first was as clear as the tones of a silver bell, quavered at the close of the first stanza and then ceased altogether. But by this time old Mrs. Ranger had caught the spirit of the ballad, and though her voice was husky, she cleared her throat and added, in a low contralto, the impressive lines, paraphrased somewhat to suit the occasion, —
"Oh, fondly cherish her, dearie;
She is sae young and fair! She hasna known a single cloud,
Nor felt a single care. And if a cauld world's storms should come,
Thy way to overcast, Oh, ever stan'—thou art a man —
Between her an' the blast!"
