Juno's white satin gown was
embroidered with mustard and cress and spring onions in their natural
colours, her veil was kept in place by a coronal of lettuce leaves,
and, instead of a Prayer-Book or a posy, she carried a little
ivory-and-silver spade. The effect was _absolutely!_ The 'maids had on
Olga's latest in Allotment Wedding frocks, carried out in potato-brown
charmeuse and cabbage-green chiffon; also they'd garden-hats, tied
under the chin with ribbon-grass and with a big cluster of radishes at
the left side, and each of them carried a bunch of small salad and a
darling little crystal-and-silver watering-pot (Portcullis's gifts).
The Duke of Southlands gave his daughter away, and Juno _insisted_ on
his wearing a smock-frock and carrying a trowel, and just as the dear
Bishop said, "Who giveth this woman?" the poor old darling dropped his
trowel with a crash and rather spoilt things.
The wedding-cake was a great big war loaf stuck with flags. Juno cut
it in old-fashioned style with Portcullis's sword. While we were doing
ourselves well with war-bread and margarine, boiled eggs and plenty of
champagne, the Controller of Wedding Breakfasts blew in (it's a new
post, and he's two hundred and fifty able-bodied young assistants).
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