“Faithful Smith!” sez I faintly, “is she the one you are talkin’ about?”
“Yes,” sez he, “your grand-daughter, is she not?”
“My grand-daughter!” sez I in deep contempt, “she is my own cousin on my own side.”
“I thought,” sez he, “from her looks and yours that she might be your grand-child, but that is of no moment,” sez he.
“It is of moment!” sez I, “she is uncle 140 Leander Smith’s own child, and though she is a few years younger than I be, it has always been said and thought all over Jonesville and Loontown that I hold my age to a remarkable extent. And though I think my eyes of Faith I won’t thank you or anyone else for callin’ her my grand-child!”
“But yet,” sez he, “that’s a tender, sweet relationship. What I want to say to you is in relation to Miss Smith, she looks sad but beauchious. I like her looks. You may have noticed that I have occasionally glanced in the direction of your party.”
“Yes,” sez I, “Heaven knows I have noticed it!”
“Yes,” sez he, “as I have looked upon her face from day to day a conflict has been wagin’ in my heart, and though you may be surprised at the result (for I am very wealthy) I have decided to make her glad and joyous once more.”
He paused, as if for a reply, and I sez, “How did you mean to tackle the job?”
“By makin’ her my wife,” sez he.