Part 15 (1/2)
”She said that you were the most--the most economical man she ever met.”
”Sure she didn't say I was tighter than the bark on a tree? I guess I 'aint buyin' no weddin' ring on the strength of that. Now, Mrs. Betty, you just try again. I guess you're fooling me!”
”Oh no, really I'm not. I never was more serious in my life. I mean just what I say. I know Mrs. Burke really thinks a very great deal of you, and if you like her, you ought to propose to her. Every moment a man remains single is an outrageous waste of time.”
Jonathan grinned as he retorted:
”Well, no man would waste any time if all the girls were like you.
They'd all be comin' early to avoid the rush. Is Mrs. Burke employin'
your services as a matrimonial agent? Maybe you won't mind tellin' me what you're to get if the deal pulls off. Is there a rake-off anywheres?”
Betty laughed, and Jonathan was silent for a while, squinting at the scythe-edge, first from one angle, then from another, and tentatively raising the hone as if to start sharpening.
”Well, Mrs. Betty,” he said presently, ”seein' I can't possibly marry you, I don't mind tellin' you that I think the next best thing would be to marry Hepsey Burke. She's been a mighty good friend and neighbor ever since my wife died; but she wouldn't look at the likes of me.
'Twouldn't be the least use of proposin' to her.”
”How do you know it wouldn't? You are not afraid of proposing, are you?”
”No, of course not; but I can't run over and propose, as I would ask her to lend me some clothes-line. That'd be too sudden; and courtin'
takes a lot of time and trouble. I guess I 'most forgot how by this time; and then, to tell you the truth, I always was a bit shy. It took me near onto five years to work myself up to the sticking point when I proposed to my first wife.”
”Well, now that's easy enough; Mrs. Burke usually sits on the side porch after supper with her knitting. Why don't you drop over occasionally, and approach the matter gradually? It wouldn't take long to work up to the point.”
”But how shall I begin? I guess you'll have to give me lessons.”
”Oh, make her think you are very lonely. Pity is akin to love, you know.”
”But she knows well enough I'm mighty lonely at times. That won't do.”
”Then make her think that you are a regular daredevil, and are going to the bad. Maybe she'll marry you to save you.”
”Me, goin' to the bad at my age, and the Junior Warden of the church, too. What are you thinkin' of?”
”It is never too late to mend, you know. You might try being a little frisky, and see what happens.”
”Oh, I know what would happen all right. She'd be over here in two jerks of a lamb's tail, and read the riot act, and scare me out of a year's growth. Hepsey's not a little thing to be playin' with.”
”Well, you just make a start. Anything to make a start, and the rest will come easy.”
”My, how the neighbors'd talk!”
”Talk is cheap; and besides, in a quiet place like this it's a positive duty to afford your neighbors some diversion; you ought to be thankful. You'll become a public benefactor. Now will you go ahead?”
”Mrs. Betty, worry's bad for the nerves, and's apt to produce insomny and neurastheny. But I'll think it over--yes, I will--I'll think it over.”
Whereupon he suddenly began to whet his scythe with such vim as positively startled Betty.
[Ill.u.s.tration]