"
So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign
over the office door with his own hand.
The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said,
rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just
about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"
"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make
my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the
joke to every one he saw that day.
It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive
facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference.
There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times,
when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the
townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior
with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high
and low, rich and poor.
There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of
the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that
the sun was shining.
Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him
pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in
his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him
from wearing them all before the wedding.
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