A. J. Pitman weds Miss M. E. Powell

 
The Cartersville Express
Cartersville, Georgia
May 13, 1874, Page 3
 
Transcribed by:  
 

Stilesboro Dots.

HYMENEAL. – “And they were marrying and giving in marriage, even down to the day” of Thursday evening, 7th inst., 4 o’clock, p. m., when Mr. A. J. PITMAN, of Alabama. And Miss M. E. POWELL, originally of Alabama, but recently of Bartow county, Georgia, launched their united destiny on a smooth sea of matrimonial bliss.  “The course of true love may not have run smooth” in a thousand other instances, but in this, its smoothness and unruffled felicity, manifested by buoyant hearts, sparkling eyes, playful smiles and rich repartee, is almost without parallel.

Just at 4 o’clock, p. m. your gallant, commanding looking livery-man, Capt. Thompson, with handsome phaeton, carriage, and fine span of horses, landed the matrimonial party, consisting of the bridegroom, accompanied by three other fine looking young men from Alabama, and one from your own city, as attendants, at the residence of Mrs. Capt. Cary, where everything was in readiness, and arranged with elegance and taste.  The attendants were Capt. Feagin, of Alabama, and Miss E. Stovall; Mr. Jelks, of Alabama, and Miss C. Stovall; Mr. P. S. Shelman and Miss Hyer; Mr. R. Shelman and Miss Sayre, of Adairsville.

The ceremony ended, congratulations extended, and many kisses passed amid smacking lips and “wish you much joy,” the guests were all assembled around a table of luxuries, of elegance and taste, beggaring all description.  Suffice it to say that Mrs. Cary had prepared it, and all who know the lady may form some idea; and Charley Shelman’s finest sweetest, best strawberries were there in abundance, swimming in cream, sugar, jelly, and all such luxuries as made them super-excellent, and all who know Charley know what sort of berries he has.  With Charley Shelman to raise, and Mrs. Cary to prepare, we challenge the world on the strawberry dish.  As well might one, in a blooming Eden, seek to pluck the prettiest flower, or amid the sweet melody of music and song, attempt to catch the sweetest note or sound, as to discriminate among the luxuries and splendor of the festive board.  The bride’s cake was a thing of beauty, trimmed with a golden basket, filled with beautiful flowers, white lilies and jasmines, fit emblems of purity—“apples of gold in pictures of silver.”  Oh, what a perfect, seeming “touch-me-not,” but oh! How we did touch it, though; for there were “a few more left of the same sort.”

Our good brother and esteemed friend, Col. Ryals was there too, and we have seen his eyes sparkle and his face shine with delight before, but never to surpass that occasion.  The beaming countenances of the gallant young groomsmen. Witnessing the unspeakable joy of the groom, clearly betrayed the swelling emotion of each heart –“Oh, how I do wish it was I,” while the smiling, mischievous looking lasses by their sides, as clearly responded, “Well, why don’t you? Here we are!”  We predict that this is not the last of this thing; that other flowers will be plucked from the garden of Georgia girlhood, and transplanted to bloom on Alabama soil.  These Alabama boys are bound to come back; and unless they are stove up in their proposals, they will be Stove all into better understandings.  Some young man is just as sure to get higher (Hyer) as that flowers bloom, strawberries ripen, and croquet balls are knocked and rolled.  This croquet business is an inevitable prelude to fairer games.  The Alabama “Captain with the whiskers” was constantly taking sly glances at one by his side, who lives near the bridge.  Oh, how convenient that bridge may yet be.  So look out, Georgia boys!  And play for even in this grab game.

At 5:30 the bridal party left, under charge of Capt. Thompson, to meet the 7 o’clock night train; and if the Captain didn’t turn over, he landed in style, as happy a couple and company as ever passed through your city, “gwine to Alabama.”

 

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