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“So he said, as sweetly and coaxingly as he was able, ‘I have come to see if you would like to marry me, Mrs. Clover-leaf.’

“‘I don’t know,’ said the sharp voice, ‘I had not thought of changing my condition.’

“‘All you would have to do,’ said Toby pleadingly, ‘would be to stir the soup for my grandchildren’s dinner, while I knit the stockings.’

“There came a sound like the smacking of lips out of the darkness within the house. ‘Oh! you have grandchildren; I forgot,’ said the voice; ‘how many?’

“‘Six,’ replied Toby.

“‘I shall be pleased to marry you,’ cried the voice; and Toby heard the squeaking of shoes, as if the widow were coming.

“‘When shall we be married?’ said the sharp voice right in Toby’s ear.

“He jumped so that he could not answer for a minute. ‘Well,’ said he finally–‘I don’t want to hurry you, Mrs. Clover-leaf, but the soup is to be made for dinner, and if I don’t finish the pair of stockings I am on to-day, my eldest grandchild will have to go barefoot. A pair of stockings only lasts one a week.’ And Toby sighed so pitifully that it ought to have touched any widow’s heart.

“The widow laughed. Toby felt rather hurt that she should. He did not know of any joke. It was a curious kind of a laugh, too; as bad in its way as her voice. But what she said the next minute set matters right.

“‘Let us go and get married, then,’ said she, ‘and I will go right home and make the soup, and you can finish the stocking.’

“Toby was delighted. ‘Thank you, my dear Mrs. Clover-leaf!’ he cried, and offered her his arm gallantly, and they set off together to the minister’s.

“The widow took such enormous strides that Toby had to run to keep up with her. She was much taller than he, and her bonnet was very large, and almost hid her face. Toby could hardly have seen her, if he had had his lantern; still he could not help wishing that one of them had one, but the widow said her oil was out, so there was no help for it.

“Once or twice when she turned her head toward him, Toby thought her eyes looked about twice as large and bright as phosphorescent buttons, and he felt a little startled, but he told himself that it was only his imagination, of course.

“When they reached the minister’s, there was no light in his house, either, and it occurred to Toby that it was Fast Day. Once a week, Pokonoket ministers sit in total darkness all day, and eat nothing.

“When Toby called, the minister poked his head out of the study window, and asked what he wanted.

“Toby told him, and he and the widow stood in front of the study window, and were married in the dark, and Toby gave a phosphorescent button for the fee.

“The widow took longer steps than ever on the way home, and Toby ran till he was all out of breath; she fairly lifted him off his feet sometimes, and carried him along on her arm.

“Link, link, bobolink! sang the crazy loon when Toby and his bride entered the house.

“‘Now let’s have a light,’ cried Toby’s wife, and her voice was sharper than ever. It frightened the crazy loon so that he left the link off the end of his song, and merely said bobo–

“‘Yes,’ answered Toby, bustling about cheerfully after the matches, ‘and then you will make the soup.’

“‘I will make the soup,’ laughed his wife.

“Toby felt frightened, he hardly knew why, but he found the matches, and lit the lamp. Then he turned to look at his new wife, and saw–the Ogress! He had married the Ogress! Horrors!

“Toby sank down on his knees and shook with fear, his little kinky curls bristling up all over his head.

“‘Pshaw!’ said the Ogress contemptuously. ‘You needn’t shake! Do you suppose I would eat such a little tough, bony fellow as you for supper? No! When do your grandchildren come home from school?’