  M IDAS, I want to s'posen a case to you, an' I want you to gim me the gospel truth on your 'pinion 'bout de matter." That's the manner in which one of Washington's dusky damsels put it to her adorer last evening. "Now, Midas, you knows you'se tole me more times 'an you'se got fingers an' toes, as you lubbed me harder 'an a marble-top washstand, an' 'at I'se sweeter to you 'an buckwheat cakes and 'lassas foreber. Midas, this am only s'posen case, but I wants you to s'posen jus' as if'n 'twas a shunuff one. "S'posen me an' you was goin' on a scursion down de riber!" "Yas," broke in Midas, "down to Mount Vernon." "Anywha's 'tall, down the riber. Midas, can you swim?" "No, Luce, I's sorry to 'form you dat de only d'reckshon what I kin circumstanshiate fru de water am de bottom." "Well, den, as I was 'latin'. S'posen we was on de boat, glidin' lubingly an' harmunly down de bussum ob der riber's stream, de moon was lookin' shiningly down pon de smoke-stack, an' you wos sottin' rite up to me (jus' slide up here closer, an' lem me show you how), dats de way." "Yah, yah! but wouldn't dat be scrumptuous?" interrupted Midas. "S'posen," continued Lucy, "you had jest put your arm roun' my wai' (dat's it), der wasn't nobody 'bout, you was a squeezin' me up, an' was jest gwine to gimme de lubinest kind ob a kiss, an'—an'—an' de biler would bust!" "Oh, de debbil!" said the disappointed Midas. "Now, Midas, I is s'posen dis case, an' I wants you to mind de words what I am a speakin'. S'posen when dat biler busted we bof went up in de air, come down in de ribber, an' when we arrive in de water we found de only thing lef' of dat boat was one piece ob board dat wasn't big enough to hole us bof, but we bof grab at it; now, Midas, "Luce, can you swim?" he asked, after hesitating a few moments. "No, Midas, ob course not. You know I can't swim." "Well den, Luce, my conchenshus 'pinion ob de whole matter am dat we won't go on no scursions." |
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