“You will make a sacrifice?” he asked. “What can you give?”
“I’ll give myself,” she answered, and she stood up defiantly.
People who tell this story, as well as a few who were there, say that Curves had a most elegant tide on at the time and didn’t know what she was saying, but that doesn’t alter the story, because this is simply a recital of facts which can be verified by a whole lot of the fellows, and the sequel can be found on record among the marriages in the Bureau of Vital Statistics by anyone who is interested enough to look it up.
“It is very praiseworthy,” continued the priest, “but how do you propose to put your gift to a practical use? You say you will give yourself. Do you mean by that that you will devote your time to this work which I am trying to carry on?”
“Not that way so you can notice it, but I have a lot of men friends here and each one of them has asked me to marry him more than once. I like them all and as marriage is a lottery anyhow, they can bid for me, and you get the money.”
As she spoke she was climbing up on the table in the center of the room. “I am ready for the first offer and I don’t care who makes it, for I’m taking as many chances as anybody else.”
Now here was a situation that reads like a romance, and here was the one in a thousand to get away with it. The women were shocked, of course; the men were interested, and as for the priest he didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, until finally what might have been an awkward situation was relieved by a man who said:
“Well, if she’s game enough to have herself auctioned off, I’m game enough to make a bid, so I’ll say $500, with the proviso that the cause of religion, which our revered friend represents, shall get half, the other half to go to the lady who shows such a praiseworthy spirit.”
Then three gaunt females over forty arose in the majesty of their outraged womanhood and stalked from the room, while a dozen others moved uneasily in their seats.
The Brahmin was still figuring.