"You owdacious puppy!"
He looked kind of hurt, and says:
"I'm surprised at you, m'am."
"You're s'rp—Why, what do you reckon I am? I've a good notion to take and—say, what do you mean by kissing me?"
He looked kind of humble, and says:
"I didn't mean nothing, m'am. I didn't mean no harm. I—I—thought you'd like it."
"Why, you born fool!" She took up the spinning-stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. "What made you think I'd like it?"
"Well, I don't know. Only, they—they—told me you would."
"They told you I would. Whoever told you's another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who's they?"
"Why—everybody. They all said so, m'am." It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:
"Who's 'everybody?' Out with their names—or ther'll be an idiot short."
He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:
"I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said kiss her; and said she'll like it. They all said it every one of them. But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more I won't, honest."
"You won't, won't you? Well, I sh'd reckon you won't!"
"No'm, I'm honest about it; I won't ever do it again. Till you ask me."
"Till I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you—or the likes of you."
"Well," he says, "it does surprise me so. I can't make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But—" He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye, somewhere's; and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, "Didn't you think she'd like me to kiss her, sir?"
