XVI 
A JUNE IDYL 
was to be the third person in importance, to 
wit: the parson. Firstly, the bride, secondly 
the groom, thirdly the minister. I was to be 
thirdly and lastly, as becometh a minister. Such 
days as the one I write of, no doubt, had gotten 
lovers in the notion of June marriages. Nothing 
was amiss. The sky, the greenery of the grass, 
the lavish chrysoprase of the trees and every 
tree undulant as a green wave, the wind being 
westerly and freighted with all unimaginable 
odors full of all indefinable sweetness learnt from 
all growing things. Familiar as a body might 
be with June days redolent and sweet, this day 
would baffle him. It was as fresh a creation 
as the first firefly. There never had been a day 
like it nor would it ever have a successor. “My 
wedding day,” sang the happy bride with shining 
eyes. And who could dispute her? Who in his 
right mind or the region of it would ever dispute 
with any woman about anything? for such dis- 
putation has whence but no whither. But to be 
disputatious with a lady on her wedding day— 
clearly that would be the very noon of folly. 
180 
| WAS on the way to a wedding in which I 
