A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER
stand, I said it many times over, and every time I said it I—"
Gosh! She kisses me about fifty times!
"Now, is it all perfectly plain?" she asks.
"Well," I says, "I expect that means that you're engaged?"
"Oh, daddy! What did you do when that happened? Maybe you are a little thick—" She hammers my head.
"Me? I had to have it plain as a big red barn. You can't fire things into me like out of a gun. I got to have time to think what it is first. Up and down, right and left, backward and forward, inside and out. I asked mother, right out if she'd marry me. No kissing. And she said just as right out that she would. Then she puts her hands down at her sides, and I pushes my whiskers out of the way and kisses her. Anyhow, I think I did. That was the intention—though I'm not sure where I struck. You see, I had read all about proposing in The Lover's Companion, and so far as I could recollect when it happened, that is
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