“I should have said ‘gal.’”
The laughing nod that rewarded him assured Sandy that he was well on the right track, and at once he took the opportunity of introducing the object of his visit.
“Say,” he began, “guess you never tho’t o’ gettin’ hitched up to a feller?”
Birdie lowered her eyelids and struggled for a blush, which somehow defied her best efforts. But her subtleties were quite lost upon Sandy, and in his eagerness he waited for no reply.
“No, course you hain’t. You got so many beaus to choose from. ’Sides,” he added thoughtfully, “gettin’ married sure needs special savvee. What I mean,” he explained, seeing the amused wonder in the girl’s now wide eyes, “you kind o’ need eddicatin’ to git married. Y’see, when you get fixed that way you sort of, in a manner of speakin’, got to unlearn things you never learnt, an’ learn them things what can’t never be taught. What I mean is, marriage is a sort of eddication of itself, wot don’t learn you nuthin’ till you git––unmarried. Savee?”
The girl shook her head in bewilderment.
“That’s sure too bright fer me.”
“That’s ’cos you ain’t been married. Y’see, I have.”
“Can’t you put it easier––seein’ I ain’t been married?”
“Sure I can.” Sandy took up a position, on the edge of the table with such a judicial air that the girl started to giggle.