"For Mr.Drumlow--poor old gentleman, I was fond on him, though he'd got a bit confused in his head, what wi' age and wi' taking a drop o' summat warm when the service come of a cold morning.
And young Mr.Lammeter, he'd have no way but he must be married in Janiwary, which, to be sure, 's a unreasonable time to be married in, for it isn't like a christening or a burying, as you can't help; and so Mr.Drumlow--poor old gentleman, I was fond on him--but when he come to put the questions, he put 'em by the rule o' contrairy, like, and he says, "Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded wife ?" says he, and then he says, "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded husband ?" says he.
But the partic'larest thing of all is, as nobody took any notice on it but me, and they answered straight off "yes", like as if it had been me saying "Amen" i' the right place, without listening to what went before." "But _you_ knew what was going on well enough, didn't you, Mr.Macey?
You were live enough, eh ?" said the butcher.
"Lor bless you!" said Mr.Macey, pausing, and smiling in pity at the impotence of his hearer's imagination--"why, I was all of a tremble: it was as if I'd been a coat pulled by the two tails, like; for I couldn't stop the parson, I couldn't take upon me to do that; and yet I said to myself, I says, "Suppose they shouldn't be fast married, 'cause the words are contrairy ?" and my head went working like a mill, for I was allays uncommon for turning things over and seeing all round 'em; and I says to myself, "Is't the meanin' or the words as makes folks fast i' wedlock ?" For the parson meant right, and the bride and bridegroom meant right.

But then, when I come to think on it, meanin' goes but a little way i' most things, for you may mean to stick things together and your glue may be bad, and then where are you?
And so I says to mysen, "It isn't the meanin', it's the glue." And I was worreted as if I'd got three bells to pull at once, when we went into the vestry, and they begun to sign their names.

But where's the use o' talking ?--you can't think what goes on in a 'cute man's inside." "But you held in for all that, didn't you, Mr.Macey ?" said the landlord.
"Aye, I held in tight till I was by mysen wi' Mr.Drumlow, and then I out wi' everything, but respectful, as I allays did.

And he made light on it, and he says, "Pooh, pooh, Macey, make yourself easy," he says; "it's neither the meaning nor the words--it's the re_ges_ter does it--that's the glue." So you see he settled it easy; for parsons and doctors know everything by heart, like, so as they aren't worreted wi' thinking what's the rights and wrongs o' things, as I'n been many and many's the time.

And sure enough the wedding turned out all right, on'y poor Mrs.Lammeter--that's Miss Osgood as was--died afore the lasses was growed up; but for prosperity and everything respectable, there's no family more looked on." Every one of Mr.Macey's audience had heard this story many times, but it was listened to as if it had been a favourite tune, and at certain points the puffing of the pipes was momentarily suspended, that the listeners might give their whole minds to the expected words.