No laughter this time, but he hangs his head and backs away, muttering to himself, “Well, that’s too bad. I do hate red hair. But then, since she has three hundred acres, that will make one overlook the red hair after all.”
And he comes on again, more cautiously than ever before, and whispers, “I have as good a new suit of clothes at home in my trunk as any man has, and they are paid for, too. Now, do you think I had better wear this new suit the first time I go to see her?”
“Yes, I think I would the first time; but since the people are plain people they might think you too extravagant if you wore it the next time; and then I think I would wear the common suit on all visits after the first one.”
Ned backs away. “Ha! ha!! ha!!!” and bawls out to the farmer, “Don’t be in a hurry to go to work; you’re not working by the month.”
He steals up again: “Don’t you think Sam Green would be a good man for me to take with me the first time to introduce me?”
“Ho! ho!! ho!!!”
Forward he comes again, and whispers, “You tell Sam Green to tell her that I’ll stock the land with cows. Tell her that I’ll hire a girl to nurse the baby. Tell her that I’ll wear my good suit the first time I come to see her, but during all the rest of our courting I’ll only wear my working suit.”
At this juncture the good wife calls from the door “Dinner!” and Uncle Ned has to cease this courting by proxy to go in and see if the tea be really strong enough for him. Courting thus by double proxy it was in this instance, as his courting generally was done. That is, this farmer must tell Sam Green, and Sam Green must tell the red-haired maiden in the adjoining township. It is more than likely the maiden never heard of Uncle Ned either before or after his resolve to court her, unless it be through the lone intermediary of Sam Green. It is probable for a year of his life this red-haired maiden was the subject of Uncle Ned’s matrimonial thoughts; then at the expiration of the year another lady comes to take her place—or rather, another lady comes to take the place which the red-haired lady was supposed to take, but never did.
Along the road again, some eight or ten miles away from his home, on foot (always on foot, for he was never known to ride), Uncle Ned approaches Farmer G—, and whispers, “Do you know the widow T—?” “Yes, what about her?” “Is she smart?” “No, she’s like her husband was, rather lazy.” “Oh, that’s bad.” No laugh this time; he whispers, “Has she any land?” “Yes, she has fifty acres.” “Well, I must overlook her laziness.”