"Read it out loud," urged Abner.
Captain Enoch put a long forefinger on the first line and cleared his throat.
"'Dear and esteemed lady,'" he began, "'it is with deep respect that I venture to introduce the subject of matrimony in your presence. You are my ideal of womanhood and your smile is more precious to me than the Kohinoor.' What's the Kohinoor?" he asked, pausing.
"Skip it," suggested Abner. "I ain't no 'cyclopedia. Go on."
"'It is with painful trep-trep-trepidation that I bring my suit before you.'"
Captain Enoch paused again. "'Suit?'" he repeated. "I don't see how that fits in. What's a suit got to do with a proposal?"
"Mebbe it's a hint that you might want your clo's mended after you was married," decided Abner. "Anyway, it sounds all right the way it's wrote. Stop a stoppin'. You never'll git it read, if you don't keep goin'."
Thus adjured the captain proceeded. "'Oh, dear one, beloved lady of my dreams, my own—' There's a blank place. It says under it, 'name of lady.'"
"Wall, say M'lissy," interjected Abner.
Captain Enoch's bronzed countenance was the color of a tomato on a tin can, but he went on valiantly, "'My own M'lissy, come to my arms, and fill my measure of happiness to overflowing by promising to become my wife, and I will shield and protect you from all the storms of life.' It ends like an advertisement for umbrellas," he complained.