So I watch the river winding
   Through the misty fading plain,
Bitter are the tear-drops blinding,
   Bitter useless toil and pain.
Bitterest of all the finding
   That my dream was false and vain!

            BARBARA'S NUPTIALS.

NINETY-FIVE years have passed since
Barbara was married. Her tears and her blushes
survive in the journals of her sister, and from
them I shall here condense and put together
a few details that may interest persons
married or about to marry, though they do relate
to a strange country and a past time—to
Poland as it was a century ago. The form of
the young lady's journal I retain, and begin
with the ninth of January, seventeen
hundred and fifty-nine.

The ceremony of betrothing Barbara to the
Starost Swidzinski took place yesterday.
When we came down to dinner as usual at
twelve o'clock my mother put into her hands
an entangled skein of silk, upon which she
blushed, and appeared unable to raise her
eyes. She was the object of every one's
notice, and the Starost himself watched her
constantly. During dinner, Macienko, our
jester, kept the company alive with his sly
jokes. I laughed as much as anyone, though
I understood little enough of what was said.
At two o'clock, dinner being over, Barbara
seated herself in the recess of a large window,
and began her task of unravelling the knot
of silk that had been given her. Upon this,
the Starost approached, and said to her in a
loud tone, "Am I to understand then, madam,
that you do not oppose yourself to my
happiness?" and Barbara made answer in a low
and trembling voice, "My parents' wishes
have been ever sacred to me." That was
their whole conversation.

When the attendants had all quitted the
room, the Palatine Swidzinski, followed by the
Abbé Vincent, conducted the Starost to the
sofa upon which my parents were seated; and
addressed them thus: "My heart is filled
with sentiments of the sincerest affection
and the most profound esteem, for the
illustrious family of the Corvin Krasinskis, and it
has long been my fondest desire that our
modest arms of Polkozic should one day be
quartered with the splendid and glorious ones
of Slepsoron. My happiness is complete in
finding your excellencies willing to allow
this. Your daughter Barbara is a model of
grace and virtue; and my son Michel is the
pride and consolation of my old age. Deign,
then, now to confirm the promise you have
given for the union of this young pair." The
Palatine then took from one of his own fingers
a diamond ring, and placing it on a salver
that the abbé held, went on to say: "This
ring I received from my parents, and placed
upon the finger of my lamented wife upon
the day of our betrothal. Permit my son
now to place it on your daughter's hand, as a
pledge of his unalterable love and true
devotion."

The Abbé Vincent then delivered a discourse,
which was so foggy with Latin, that I could
not make it out, and my father replied: "I
am delighted to confirm the promise I have
made, and willingly consent to the union of
my daughter and the Starost, upon whom I
bestow my blessing, and to whom I give up
all my rights over my child." My mother
placed on the salver a grand diamond ring,
containing a miniature of Augustus II.,
saying: "I concur in what my husband has
said, and present my daughter with this ring,
the most precious jewel of our house. Stephen
Slumiecki, my father, received it from the
hands of Augustus II., when he concluded the
treaty of Karlowitz, in which the Turks
agreed to render the fortress of Kamieniée-
Podolski to the Poles. It was with this ring,
the memory of which is so dear, that I was
betrothed. I bestow it now upon my child,
in the fervent hope that she may be as
happy in her marriage as I have been in
mine."

When my mother had done, my father
called Barbara to him, but the poor girl was
so confused and full of trembling, that she
seemed positively unable to move. At last,
however, she was stationed by my father's
side, and the abbé pronounced, in loud Latin,
the nuptial benediction. One of the rings was
then given to Barbara, the other to the
Starost. He placed that which she received
upon the little finger of her left hand (which
we call the heart finger), and fastened it down
with a kiss. She in turn presented her ring
to the Starost, but was so agitated, that she
could not succeed in passing it over his finger.
He again kissed her trembling hand, and
threw himself at the feet of my parents,
swearing to devote his whole life to the
happiness of their beloved daughter. The Palatine
then kissed Barbara on the forehead, and
the Colonel his son, and his nephew the abbé
paid her a thousand compliments, while my
father was filling a large goblet with old
Hungarian wine. He first drained it himself to
the health of the betrothed pair; and it was
then filled and refilled, to be handed round,
until all the gentlemen present had
followed his example. This ceremony of the
betrothal appeared to me so solemn and
affecting, that I cried from the beginning to
the end.

"Do not weep, Franusia," said the jester to
me; "your turn will come. Wait only a
year!"

"A year! Oh, that would be too soon;
but I should dearly like to be married in two
years I confess."

For the first time in her life, on this eventful
evening Barbara was kissed on the cheeks
by my father and mother, when she bade
them good night; and since yesterday, she
has been treated by everybody in the castle