Only a Matter of Form.
"Mr. Kajones," said young Springbyle, clearing his throat, "I have called to ask permission to pay my addresses to your daughter."
"Which one, Julius?" inquired Mr. Kajones.
"Miss Maria, sir."
The father looked fixedly at the young man. "What are your prospects in life, Julius?" he said.
"To tell you the truth, sir," acknowledged young Springbyle, "I have no prospects worth mentioning. I am in moderate circumstances and have no resources except a knowledge of my business, good health and steady habits."
"Just so, Julius," mused the father. "Your income, I dare say, is——"
"About $1,200 a year."
"And on this, my young friend, you would expect to support yourself and a young woman who has lived in a home where she has never been used to anything like privation, or even judicious economy?"
"It does seem presumptuous for me to think of it," faltered the youth, "and as I see it does not meet with your approval I will say no more about it and ask your pardon for——"
"Stay, Julius!" exclaimed Mr. Kajones, somewhat hastily. "I only asked you those questions as a matter of form. If you want Maria, my boy, you can have her!" And he shook the young man warmly by the hand.
Mr. Kajones, it may be proper to state, has eight unmarried daughters besides Maria.
—Chicago Tribune.