Marriages (July 27)

25th Anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Jas. L. Seaman of Union Valley Occurred Jan. 13.

 



The amount of snow on the ground and the weather of Jan. 13, 1875 was very similar to that of last Saturday.  But inside the house I have in mind, there was a difference.  That day, 25 years ago, there had been a quiet home wedding when Jas. L. Seaman and Mrs. Tabitha Bush Hazen were made man and wife.  This day they two were alone, save for the young man who helps them.  No one had remembered that this was their 25th wedding anniversary, they thought.  About 10 o'clock a sleigh-load of people drove up to the door of the house above, and helped aboard that family, completing an even dozen of jolly folks. 

 

"I do believe they are coming here, they are headed this way!" exclaimed the bride of a quarter of a century ago.  But when the load halted at her door and someone called out, "Come, get your things on and take a ride with us.  Just room for two more!"  Her hope was crushed.  "We can't go.  Mr. Seaman is not able to get out of door at all!  Where are you going?"  "Oh, come on.  It will do you both good to go sleighing with such a crowd as this.  Come on!"  cried the load.  "Well, seeing you can't go with us guess we will stay with you.  Many happy returns of your wedding day, Mr. and Mrs. Seaman," shouted the spokesman.  The load piled out and the Babel of many tongues began.

 

Suffice to say that the surprise planned by their son and daughter was complete in every detail. The long table was soon loaded with the good things brought by the visitors, and the bridal party surrounded by their happy friends sat down to enjoy themselves and silence reigned for a short time.  After the last table full were satisfied, Mr. L.M. Lathrop made a short speech and presented several nice gifts to Mr. and Mrs. Seaman.  Then there were songs, duets and choruses, the closing one being that oft repeated prayer, "God be with you till we meet again."  Those present will long think of he day as one of the pleasantest of the remembrances they cherish.  [Bainbridge Republican, Jan. 17, 1900]