“Either that comes handiest,” was my indifferent reply.
“Well, the dark one, then. She is tall, fair, and is looking anxiously for you to propose. Do you know a lady of this description whom you like?” I regretted that I did not. My “notion” ran to small ladies, of the opposite complexion. “Well,” she said, not the least flurried, “here is one of that kind.” I instantly placed my mind on one of this class,—my sister,—and she ran on. “She is soon to meet you. She is very rich.” (Nellie will be glad to learn this.) “And I perceive a short-like man looking after her fortune. But have no concern; she loves you fondly, and you will marry her very soon. You are going a voyage, or across some water.” (How far can one travel, in this country, without crossing water?) “You will meet an enemy, who will try to injure you in business.”
“What business?” I inquired.
“You are a—yes—mechanic, though your hand is soft. I reckon you’ve been sick. Yes—machinist; make coffee-mills. Yes” (looking sharply into my face). (I was leading her!) “Corn poppers are in your line.” (I nodded, and smiled, for how could I refrain from smiling?) “You trade in tin and earthen ware—chamber ware—spoons—and old boots.” (True.) “You own a splendid house in the city—a large block”-(head).
“Where was I born? Can you see?”
“Yes; you were reared in the country; where there were deep, dark woods—all woods; in a log house, with thatched roof, and clay and stick chimney. A pig—am I right?—yes, a pig and a dog are kept in the same house. The windows are wooden, and—”
“Where was it?” I suggested.
“I should say in Ireland,” she replied.
“Enough, I believe. Now about the other lady,” I said.
“The dark one? Yes. She loves you, but is poor. Since you are rich, and a—” Here I tried to impress her that I was married. “You are married, but your wife will not survive you. No, she will soon go to heaven, and you will marry the dark-complexioned lady.”