“Cause I can’t, and that’s enough. I would in a minute, John, but for only one reason, and that I’m afraid to tell ye.”
“Poh, poh!” says I, “don’t be bashful. If there’s only one stump in the way, I guess here’s a fellow—”
“Well, then, look tother way, John; I can’t speak if you look at me.”
“O, yes; there, now’s your time,” says I, with a flert.
“The reason is—Joe Bowers, the stage-driver. Now, you shan’t tell nobody, John, will ye?”
Who would have thought this of Sally Jones!
It seemed to me the very Old Boy had got into the women: they fairly put me to nonplush! All this time, my popularity with the ladies was amazing. To see them flattering and soft-soaping me all at once, you would have sworn I had nothing to do but pick and choose. I had as much gallantry to do as I wanted everywhere; and for politeness and gentility I never turned my back to no man. Then they were so thick and familiar with me, that they didn’t care what they said or did before me; and, finally, whenever they had errands or chores to, who but I was the favourite bird to fetch and carry? I was for ever and ever racing and cantering from post to pillar, to do their bidding. Rain or shine, snow or mud, nothing stopping me; and, I may say, I fairly earned their smiles by the sweat of my brow. Then it was, “O, Mr. Beedle! what should we do without Mr. Beedle!” But when I caught one alone, and began to touch upon the matrimonial sentiments, then how quick the tune was changed! O, the ways of women are curious!
Patty Bean was not the first I run against, by a long short. I never lost anything for the want of asking; and I was plagy apt to talk turky always when I get sociable, if it was only out of politeness. Now and then one would promise, and then fly off at the handle; but most all contrive some reason or other for giving me the bag to hold. One had taken a firm resolve never to marry—“No, never, never!” and the next Sunday morning she was published! Another chicken thought she was a great deal too young to undertake to manage a family. At last, I took a great shine to the school-marm, Huldah Hornbeam, though she was ten years older than I, and taller by half a yard of neck; and when I offered her heart and hand, she fixed up her mouth, and, says she, “I’ve a great respect and esteem for you, Mr. Beedle, but—” and so forth. Nothing will cool a man quicker than respect and esteem, unless it is a wet blanket. But let Huldah alone, she had her eyes upon Deacon Carpenter all the time.
Well, as I was going moping along home, from Squire Jones’s, I fell in with Doctor Dingley. The Doctor saw in a minute that something was the matter, and he went to work and pumped the whole secret out of me. Then he seemed so friendly, that I up and told him all my experience with the women, from the beginning to the end.
“Well, John,” says he, “I advise you now to wait till the twenty-ninth of February, when the gals turn round and courted the fellows. It’s none of my business, but, I wouldn’t let the women make a fool of me any more.”