Niagara Falls, New York  Sunday May 23, 1841

   " Oh God, who dost command Man to cleave to Woman,
    bless those who stand before this lens with
    unquenchable love.  Amen."

  "Will that blessing satisfy your needs my son?"

  "Yes Father, thank you.  Remember to tell the couples coming to
marry about my service.  A photograph of them on their wedding day
will last forever.  I believe your blessing will help them in their
new life together."

  Sam Brown returned to the storefront he'd rented full of hope.
The training to make daguerreotypes had cost him.  The equipment
had cost more.  The image he turned out was superior to a drawing,
and cost less.  He expected much business to come his way, enough
to pay off the investment by the end of summer.

  His first customers were due Monday morning.  He checked to see that
everything in order.  The lens, now blessed, he replaced on the
lens-board.  Rifling through the silvered copper plates he selected
one he thought best.  This would be his first sale and  he wanted to
impress the viewers.  He cleaned the lens and camera.  Then he went
home.

  At the appointed time things did not go as expected.  The bride and
her family arrived, the groom did not.  The bride was in her long full
dress, fuller than fashion dictated for every day.  It was white as
new fallen snow.  It was patterned like snow as well, yards and yards
of lace covered it.  Her father looked to be a solid, good humored,
man; a man who knew what he wanted and would stop as nothing to get it.
Her mother seemed a feminine version of the father.  Trailing all was
a sister, young and not yet certain whether she was woman or girl.

  "He refused to come, he said your process is a hoax," said the
bride's father.  "I read about it and I believe it.  Can you take a
photograph of just my daughter?  We shall hang it in the parlor for
all to see. If that would be son in law wishes the photograph he can
wait to inherit it.  The rest of the world may admire his lovely
bride."

  Sam sat the bride, Sally Walker, in his posing chair.  This was just
a standard parlor chair, it would be lost behind her finery.  Behind
the chair was an iron stand with a padded wishbone angled out from the
top.  He explained the head clamp to her.  "Lord!  That looks like a
torture device," she said in reply.  He assured her it was necessary.
The exposure would take too long for her to hold still on her own.  He
excused himself to prepare the plate.

  Preparations took nearly twenty minutes.  The plate had to be used
in less than fifteen minutes or it would be ruined.  He returned to
Sally and clamped her head.  He removed the cap from the lens.  He
held it open for nearly three minutes.

  After development and mounting, he showed the result to the family.
They were astonished.  They gladly paid his fee.

  Sally was disappointed with her betrothed.  He had spoiled their
wedding present, the portrait, and not shown up to apologize.  A knock
at the door drew her attention.  Within moments John, best man for her
betrothed, was shown in.

  "I must apologize," that was what she wanted to hear, "Mr. Foxworth
has withdrawn his proposal.  I regret to inform you that he will not
marry you.  He has left town, and cannot be reached."  Sally was so
stunned it took several seconds before her mind could believe what
her ears had heard.  "I am sorry to be the one to tell you.  I found
out about this from a letter he slid under my door.  Please accept my
apology."  He bowed and left.  Sally waited until the front door
closed behind him.  She screamed, long and loud, then cried.

  A week later Sally heard a knock on the door.  She heard her sister
answer.  A few moments of inaudible conversation followed ended by a
giggle from her sister.

  "Mr. Allen wishes to call on you.  Will you receive him?"

  Sally gave her permission.  John was ushered into the room.  Behind
his back Sally's little sister looked dreamy eyed.

  "Miss Walker, I hope you've forgiven me for the other night.  I
assure you that was painful for me."

  "Mr. Allen, you were not to blame.  Cowards inconvenience those
around them.  It's the coward that bears the blame, not the one who
picks up after them."

  "I'm glad you hold no grudge against me," he said with a smile, "will
you honor me with your presence at the Lamplighter's ball?"

  "Mr. Allen, I don't think I'm ready to enter society again yet.
I've been badly hurt and I do not wish to go through that again."

  "I offer nothing more than an evening of dancing.  I'd do nothing to
hurt you.  I've admired you since the moment we met.  I'm sure I speak
for all the gentlemen when I say that we'd be pleased by your
presence."

  "Mr. Allen, you flatter me.  I'm just a plain girl.  Still, sitting
alone in this house is getting tiresome.  I accept."

  A week later Sally had a wonderful time at the ball.  Her dance card
was full within fifteen minutes of arrival.  The men were all
gracious, even if not all of them danced well.  John managed to make
her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.  As required he
danced with many ladies, but his eyes were only for Sally.  His hands
felt like fire against her as they danced.  She went home exhausted and
happy.

  On the porch John asked for a kiss.  "Mr. Allen, I do think you are
being forward."  She thought back on the feel of his hands upon her.
"Perhaps a wonderful man on this wonderful night deserves a kiss." 
She could not believe she'd said that.  She could not believe how that
kiss made her feel.  Intense pleasure radiated outward to every
corner of her body from the center of her breast.  Her stomach, and
below it, fluttered with a tickling sensation.  Her head felt faint.

  The mood was broken by a muffled giggle.  Sally's evil imp of a
little sister was watching through the window.  "I'd better go before
your sister calls your father to come out with his pistol," John
joked.

  "Coward."

  The weeks went by with John calling to take her walking several
times.  The pair had trouble keeping their hands off one another. 
Sally could not think straight.  Her dreams at night, if she slept at
all, did not bear repeating.  Her rotten little sister had taken to
taunting her as if she never talked of anything but John.  If Papa
didn't beat her soon Sally might have to do it herself.

  It was at the Midsummer barn dance that things came to a head.  The
two of them took a walk to cool down.  The kiss went on and on.  Hands
began to stray.  John whispered, "Marry me," into her ear.

  Sally whispered, "Yes," into his.  Somehow her dress became bunched
about her waist.  Somehow John's trousers migrated to his knees.  
Somehow their private parts merged.  Sally was lost in a world all her
own made up entirely of bodily sensations.  Time lost all meaning. 
Her lips eagerly drank life from John's.  His hands roaming her
torso shot pulses of pleasure at every touch.  Her most secret place
felt completed by the fullness of his manhood filling a void she had
not known existed.  Every stroke brought new sparks of pleasure so
intense they bordered on pain.

  "Sally!  What are you doing?"  It was her sister.  She was out with
a boy as her escort the first time.  Sally knew she'd be called to
account by her parents tonight.

  "We are celebrating our betrothal," said John.  "If you wander the
grounds enough you'll find many doing much the same thing with less
justification."

  Was it Sally's imagination, or did Agnes and her boy both blush?

  "I won't tell this time, but I want to be a bridesmaid.  You must
promise."

  Sally promised.

  Sam said, "I do hope things work out better for your wedding this
time," as he adjusted the head clamps on Sally and John.

  "They will.  Nothing could part us," said Sally.
"Don't forget, you're to photograph my sister as a bridesmaid's gift."