it, and were speedily rowed across the river and landed on the other
side, where they found a few of the lawn party there before them.

"There is Mr. Clarence Rockharrt coming toward us!" said Mrs. Bounce, as
the party walked up from the landing, and a medium-sized, plump, fair
man of middle age, with a round, fresh face, a smiling countenance, blue
eyes and light hair, and in "a wedding garment" of the day, came down to
meet them, and shook hands with all, warmly welcoming them in the name
of his father. Then he led them up to the lawn and gave them chairs
among the unoccupied seats at the various tables.

"If you please, Mr. Clarence, is the groom in good health and sperrits?"
meaningly inquired Mrs. Bounce.

"Mr. Rothsay is in excellent health and spirits, thank you," replied
the gentleman, looking a little surprised at the question: an then
moving off quickly to receive some new arrivals.

The guests for the lawn party were constantly arriving, and the
ferryboat was kept busy plying from the shore to shore.

It is time now to introduce our readers to the house of Rockharrt.

Old Aaron Rockharrt, the head of that house, was at this time
seventy-five years of age and a wonder of health and strength. He was
called the "Iron King," no less from his great hardihood of body and
mind than from his vast wealth in mines and foundries. In size he was
almost a giant, with a large head covered by closely-curling, steel-gray
hair. His character may be summed up in a very few words: