A BRIDE'S ADVENTURES.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2534, 6 October 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)

A BRIDE'S ADVENTURES.

It was reserved for a bride lately to suffer a complication of incidents and get married alter all. The young lady lett the hoiiV'j and was driven for half a mile, when .--he discovered liiat she had not put ou her bridal veil. This was no fool of a veil, either. It", was not the regulation J square of blonde lice, but a lovely Brussels net. Back went the bride for this gorgeous portion of her raiment. It was thrown over her in the carriage, and the wedding procession again started. This time a breath of air produced an inclination to sneeze. The poor bride repressed it, but it escaped at last, and, oh ! horror an horror's head, her white satin waist split from belt to shoulder. Here occurred a halt—this time at the little shop where thread and needles were obtained, and the gaping space with difficulty was covered. At last, much too late, that unfortunate woman reached the church. In stepping nervously from the carriage the lace button of an under petticoat gave way. Every step up the aisle she could feel that, cruel skirt slip, slip, till she feared she would have to step out of it at the very altar. She took a jrrip on the side and on she went. During the entire service she clung to it like grim death. She let go for a moment to get her glove of! for the ring, ami when she resumed her hold she found that it had gained oil Iter. She might have been married with the catechism for all she knew. She had other thoughts. Will that petticoat be dropped ill the aisle, or will I shed it ou the sidewalk before the mob as I climb iuto the carriage ? Is it the lawn skirt, with three ruliles of Valenciennes, or is it the little blue embroidered cashmere ma made me wear so I wouldn't take cold ?" The perspiration started on her pallid brow as she hurriedly made the responses, and, half fainting, made her way down the aisle. 11 Don't loose your presence of mind, dear," whispered the young husband. " It's my petticoat I'm losing," murmured the lady, piteously. When once in the carriage the sentimental bridegroom pressed her hand, and said: "At last the prize is mine." SII2 said the same thing as she kicked the dreadful petticoat under the carriage seat. It was the woollen one.