At Portland, Oregon, Nov. 4th, by Rev. Mr. Rutledge, Mr. D. B. Weterhouse of Oregon to Miss Jennie Rhea formerly of Oceola.
As Miss Rhea, and Mr. Waterhouse formerly resided in our village, we append the following which is taken from a letter to Mrs. Rhea.
Dear Mother
Jennie arrived at Portland, on the steamer Pacific, on the night of Nov. 3d. On the following morning I met her at the boat, and at 8 o’clock we were married by Rev. Mr. Rutledge of the M. E. Church, at the Temperance House. We were waited upon by our landlord to a very nice supper prepared expressly for the occasion. Several young gentleman and ladies were introduced to the wedded couple, and partook of the refreshments with seeming delight. Mrs. Waterhouse and myself will remain here a short time and then remove to our future home for the winter.
From your Son,
D. B. Waterhouse
That’s the way the gals go and “pop goes the weasel.” If they keep on in this way, there wont be any chance for an old bachelor in this world. Whose turn comes next?
Oh I wouldn’t be a married man,
No I wouldn’t if I could,
But I needn’t fret about it,
For I couldn’t if I would.
- Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, December 26, 1863
As Miss Rhea, and Mr. Waterhouse formerly resided in our village, we append the following which is taken from a letter to Mrs. Rhea.
Dear Mother
Jennie arrived at Portland, on the steamer Pacific, on the night of Nov. 3d. On the following morning I met her at the boat, and at 8 o’clock we were married by Rev. Mr. Rutledge of the M. E. Church, at the Temperance House. We were waited upon by our landlord to a very nice supper prepared expressly for the occasion. Several young gentleman and ladies were introduced to the wedded couple, and partook of the refreshments with seeming delight. Mrs. Waterhouse and myself will remain here a short time and then remove to our future home for the winter.
From your Son,
D. B. Waterhouse
That’s the way the gals go and “pop goes the weasel.” If they keep on in this way, there wont be any chance for an old bachelor in this world. Whose turn comes next?
Oh I wouldn’t be a married man,
No I wouldn’t if I could,
But I needn’t fret about it,
For I couldn’t if I would.
- Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, December 26, 1863
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