“I swow, Sally, you looked so plaguy handsome today, that I wanted to eat you up!”
“Pshaw! Get along with you,” said she.
Johnny’s hand had crept along, somehow, upon its fingers, and began to scrape acquaintance with hers. She sent it home with a desperate jerk. Try it again—no better luck.
“Why, Miss Jones, you’re gettin’ upstroperlous; a little old maidish, I guess.”
“Hands off is fair play, Mr. Blunt.”
Johnny finally managed not only to get hold of Sally’s hand but managed to slip his arm around her waist. But not satisfied with this he began to go poking out his lips for a kiss. But he rued it for Sally fetched him a slap in the face, that made him see stars, and set his ears to ringing like a brass kettle, for a quarter of an hour.
“Ah, Sally, give me a kiss, and ha’ done with it, now?”
“I won’t, so there, nor tech to—”
“I’ll take it whether or no.”
“Do it, if you dare!”