Pittsburg, Pa., May 1, 1899.
Dear Jim:
So you want to know how a fellow is going to tell positively when he is stuck on a girl, do you? Well, I'll tell you, and I'll tell you mighty quick. If some guy cuts in on your steady, you are going out to her home, and you are going to call her fine and plenty, aren't you? And unless she promises to bump the other fellow, you are going to leave her in a rage, aren't you? _Now, if you go back without being sent for, you're it._Jim, if you can you had better wait for her to break the ice.
If you don't, from that time on she will make you look like a white chip. A woman is like one of the big trusts. The instant she acquires a controlling interest in you she becomes a regular ring-master. She will make you jump through, lie down and roll over, walk lame, and play dead; and don't think for a moment you won't do it, either. All the rest of them have. You show me a man who hasn't been up against such a game, and I'll show you a man who lacks experience. A lot of these handsome gazabes go around looking wise, winning girls out, and thinking they are the happy thought. That's because they have had a run of luck and landed in among a bunch of marks. Let them keep it up. It is only a matter of time until they will stumble over a live wire, and then it will be pay-day on the Wabash. It's grand to see a great big slob running along behind some little bit of a girl, a faithful Fido, taking his orders like a politician. I know what I'm talking about, Jim, because I have certainly been the original human dog. I used to think I was the Village Rubber--but not any more. They have made me look like thirty cents not once, but a dozen times. I can gaze into the dim, hazy distance and see where every one of these coy, clever fellows is going to get it, and get it good, and I am glad of it. My hat's off.
Say, Jim, I'm not much for these love stories in the books. They are liable to mislead a fellow. You read how Benton Brockway, the hero, looks into pretty Bessie Bell's blue eyes, places his hand on her shapely shoulder, and tells her how he loves her.
Even her downcast eye doesn't hide the pearly tear as she answers "Yes." Now, I can look into their eyes for four hours, and I can tell them how I love them till I am black in the face, and they seem to like it; but whenever I come to the laying of the hand on the shapely shoulder part, it's all off. I am told that I am no gentleman, and to roll my hoop out of that house forever. What's a fellow going to do? You can never tell whether a girl is really sore or whether she is stalling. A girl might be for a fellow strong, and yet she wouldn't admit it for a thousand dollars.
There may be some things I wouldn't admit for a thousand, but Idon't just recall them at the present time. It only goes to show that things are not always what they seem. Many a girl wears a sailor hat who doesn't own a yacht.
Just to show you what a chance a man has nowadays: The other night I went out to see a certain girl. Won't mention any names.
Never do, sober. She made what she called a Robert E. Lee punch out of apple brandy and stuff. Well, sir, after I had hit three Robert E. Lees, I could see waving green fields and fruit-laden orchards, and kind-faced old cows standing in silvery streams of water. I couldn't remember of owing a cent, and the drawing-room lamp looked like a flood of golden sunshine. Jim, I have never been against the pipe, because I'm too young, but if it beats the Robert E. Lee punch, I'll have to go after it. I took one more dipper of Robert E. Lee, and then I decided that any girl who could make that kind of a mix could have me for better or for worse; and if I didn't propose right there I'll eat your hat.
I told her that I had loved her madly for months, but had never found the courage to say so till that night. I also mentioned the fact that even if she was very small and I was large, and even if the people in the church would say we looked like Rhode Island and Texas marching out together, that it made no difference where true love was concerned. I finished it all up with a look that would have melted the heart of a bank dealer. My work must have been a little to the sandpaper, or I may have backed up kind of foolish like, or something. Whatever it was, she answered, "Billy, your brother's hair is a good deal darker than yours, isn't it?" Now, what do you think of that frosty-hearted fairy?
Literally forced me to drink that punch, gets me ripened up, and then throws the hooks into me. As a love-maker I guess I am a shine. Jim, have you ever gone home late at night and told yourself in front of the mirror how you loved some girl? and have you ever seen that same girl walking along the street the next day with another fellow, and the instant you discovered them, did a great big lump come into your breast? And did you immediately think of a lot of things about the fellow you didn't like, although previously you had rather admired him? Well, that thing you get in your breast is what we experts call the love lump, and you were placing yourself in a position to later on become a kind of Patsy to that girl.
