“All right, you tell us how your beau popped the question,” said Sally.
“No, I won’t tell you that; but I’ll tell you about an apple tree romance with a proposal in it, if you wish.”
“Oh, jolly, jolly!” The girls dropped their apples and clapped their approval.
“Who was it about? Not you, mother?” asked Mary, a little anxiously.
“No, not me exactly, but I was in the fun. It is about John Watkins; you remember him, Aunt ‘Liza?”
“Yes, I reckon I do, lazy old scamp!” came the tart response. “After Maria died he wouldn’t do nuthin’ but read poetry and chase around tryin’ to git another wife to raise his pack o’ young uns—think I did know him.”
“Well, it’s ’bout his proposing to Jerusha Jones that I was going to tell.”
The girls were all interested.
“Oh, come now, you must work or I won’t talk.” The paring knives began to fly again.
“Well, Jerusha was one of my chums, as jolly a girl as you ever saw, pretty, too; and pranks!—what that girl could not think of was hardly worth trying. The fellows were all crazy over her, but she wouldn’t be serious with any of them.