THE GOLDEN WEDDING.

Otago Witness, Issue 2513, 14 May 1902, Page 65

THE GOLDEN WEDDING.

lions. Joseph Te"?sier resides just outside Pour -Corners on the alleged road leading daam *t tiw AttUa* i tax. 'ailezeti" >*•-

cause in winter it is a Slough of Despond, and in. summer a dnsty desert. A little way from the rc:id, on a rising piece of ground backed by a magnificent forest of cedars, dwells Moas. Joseph Tessier. £Ls house — what there is of it — combines neatness with gaiety. When Mons. Tessier first built it, he was newly married, and had not allowed for the fifteen subsequent little Tessiers ; but what would you? They struggled on somehow, grew up, married, and went their ways. And Mobs. Joseph sat beneath the apple trea, smoking the pipe of contemplation, and glancing at the glistening river. There was no need for either Madame or himself to work. The fifteen provided them with occasional luxuries, and as long as Madame chatted with her cronies after mass, and Monsieur smoked the good tabac of Virginia, what more could they want? Someone suggested an additional want — a golden wedding. '"Eh bien, said Monsieur Joseph, "let us consult Madame. "' The thing spread. All the colony came with gifts. Monsieur Joseph, as I strolled by with, a bathing towel one morning in the Lot sunshine, did me the honour to consult me. Four Corners whisky, he hinted, was not of a quality suitable for a golden wedding. Could Monsieur advise? "Monsieur advised a speedy recourse to an eminent merchant in Montreal, and undertook to supply a certain amount of liquid refreshment. Later, followed a polite invitation to the "new wedding" at the church in Four Corners. This invitation was on a gilt-edged card, and the hour fixed for 7 o'clock in the morning. "Why such a hurry?" I demanded of the messenger. "Lest we forget," said Tessisr's grandson, in the language of Mr Kipling. At 4 o'clock on the appointed day I was aroused from my slumbers by the newlyappointed "Highland Mary.'' "Will she be getting up* whateffer?" or words to that effect, this young lady inquired, and "she" (meaning myself) reluctantly Rose svnd donned my clothes, and oped my chamber door. Oh-h .' the sweet sunshine, the fleecy mists curling from the broad besom of the river, the blue sky, the piping of robins in the syringa bushes. Dewdrops glistened on the grass, "ladies' lockets" shone daintily, luscious-scented pink peonies diffused their sweetness on the ambient air, flame-tipped budding leaves of the vines opened to the wooing morn. From the village inn came echoing shouts and laughter ; the neighing of horses roused at this untimely hour, ths chatter of children from upper windows, the creaking of buggies crawling into the sheds by the stores, the tap-tap of impatient feet on the wooden side-walk, the curling smoke from, twice a hundred chimneys — all these made further slumber impossible. Four Corners was en fete, and Monsieur Tessier was the hero of the fete. More young fanners drove in, each with his "best girl." Parents followed with neglected "second -best girls." The procession, of some fifty buggies, preceded by a stately open landau, formed and drove gaily round the square, then away to Tessier's to fetch the bride and groom. Half an hour later it returned. "Will Monsieur," Tessier had demanded the previous evening, "have the goodnes3 t» photograph us in our best clothes? We shall not,"' he added, persuasively, "live long enough to have another golden wedding. ' "Monsieur," kodak in hand, ■was the only incongruous note in the picture as the buggies arrived at the church. The horsss were hastily tied to the opposite fence. Then the men and maidens formed into two lines, and Monsieur and Madame drove up in the open landau, graciously bowing after the manner ot Royalty. The procession formed, and entered the church, four of Tessier's grandsons kneeling behind him, whilst four of Madame's granddaughters supported her. The organist played something soft and sweet, the cure came forth clad in glittering vestments, and mass began. The ceremony was not altogether a remarriage. After" mass, the cure advanced from the flower-decked altar, and the kneeling couple rose, then seated themselves side by side, hand clasping hand. Monsieur Joseph was resplendent in black broadcloth ; Madame wore a fashionablycut black 'silk dress with a bonnet which on a less solemn occasion would 'have looked coquettish. Her skin was wrinkled and brown, her eyes retained their youthful fire. She was dignified, yet affable ; unconscious, yet aware, that she was the centre of attraction. Monsieur Joseph simply beamed, although he afterwards confided to me that it was somewhat of a trial to be thus worshipped and admired. Briefly, the good cure's address was something' l'ke this : "Marriage, my children," he said, "is an honourable estate, ordained by God that in all the trials and perils of the world man should have a helpmate to cheer him ; woman a man to guide, cherish, and protect her. When you, my children, wandered hither, the country was little better than a wilderness. You came, you conquered the wilderness, hewed down the forest trees, planted corn where never corn grew before. You succeeded to the heritage of the Indian, the wolf, and the bear. You fought with Nature, overcame her. and made her your friend. "iear after year, in all seasons, in all weathers, you, my children, have done your part. Every man who maketh corn to grow where no corn grew is a benefactor to his race. You have brought up children ; have been good citizens ; have helped the poor and needy ; have supported the Church ; have lived" honest, industrious, frugal lives ; have been, true to one another. For fifty years you have dwelt beneath the sheltering shade of your solemn pines and cedars ; for fifty years on summer eves you have sat by your flower-clad porch watching the westering sun fade into night ; for fifty years, when the earth has been covered with its beneficent mantle of snow, you have sat beside the log-filled stove listening to the howling of the storm, and pitying tlinsn BfIDT wandfrara who_ hayjg JU> homes.

In thrift, in patient honesty, in sunshine and rain, you have made the journey of life together. Hand in hand you have reached the summit, and, my children, ere you take the path leading to the other side, the Church would fain pronounce its blessing on you, give you its consolations to aid you in your journey, so that at the last, when you pass from our sight, when you are but a memory among us, men shall say : ' They were good. They loved one another through all the storms and sunshine of life. They did no man wrong. They lived their lives, fulfilling the duties which came to them, hating none, quarrelling with none, helping the poor and the needy.' This is the greatest of all, my brethren, loving one another in perfect peace and happiness unto the end. When, my children, the last dread moment arrives, when that Hand which we must all obey knocks at your door, and you open to the coming of the Great Consoler, we who are left behind will cherish your memory, take to heart your example, and, loving one another, follow in your footsteps the better for having known you, the fuller of heart for watching the faith which endures, the love which fadeth not, but passeth into Eternity ever young, ever fragrant, ever fair !"'

The organ struck a few faint, sweet notes, and a cle?r soprano thrilled through the air as Monsieur Joseph took his wife's hand in his, kissed it, then offered* her Eis arm. For a moment he stocd at the altar, the morning sun shining through the windows upon them ; then the old couple followed the priest into his private room for a few more words, and the granddaughters, clad in white muslin and blue sashes, walked round the church making a collection for Monsieur and Madame.

With a clash and a clatter up came the buggies outside the church, wild-eyed stallions, chafing at the restraint of harness, humorously endeavouring to "chaw" one another. " The thrilling voice ceased from the organ loft, Monsieur and Madame appeared arm-in-arm, wet-eyed, yet smiling, and the procession formed, came down the aisle, preceded by the grandchildren. The happy pair entered the open landau, were driven thrice round the square in great state, amid cracking of whips and shouts from their friend?, and dashed off in a cloud of dust for the residence of Monsieur Joseph. That night there were festivities under the apple trees. From the distant river came the faint> swish of the water falling over the Long Sault. "It would seem,' said Monsieur Joseph ; "it would seem, monsieur, as if it were a great thing to be true to one woman for fifty years."' "When one regards Madame," I said, with a profound bow to the lady, "it ceases to be a miracle, for one forgets the fifty years !"