The Blunders of a Bashful ManVictor, Metta Victoria Fuller
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The Blunders of a Bashful Man
Victor, Metta Victoria Fuller
Humorous stories; Young men -- Fiction
He was a good-natured fellow, after all--a perfect gentleman; and when
I stammered out my excuses, saying that I had mistaken him for a
tramp, he laughed and shook hands with me, explaining that he was in
his fishing costume, and saying very handsomely that were his dear
sister ever in such danger of being insulted, he hoped some person as
plucky as I would be on hand to defend her. This was applying cold
cream to my smarting self-love. But it did not prevent me from
observing the sly glances exchanged between the girls, nor prevent my
hearing the little bursts of suppressed giggling which they pretended
were caused by the funny motions of the hay-cutter in a neighboring
field. So, as their brother could show them the way to Widow Cooper's,
I said good-morning rather abruptly. He called me back, however, and
asked if I would not like to join him on a fishing tramp in the
morning. I said "I would, and I knew all the best places."
Then we shook hands again, while the young ladies smiled like angels;
but I had not more than turned a bend in the road, which hid me from
view, than I heard such shrieks and screams of laughter as turned my
two ears into boiled lobsters for the remainder of the day.
But, spite of my burning ears, I could not get mad at those girls.
They had a right to laugh at me, for I had, as usual, made myself
ridiculous. I was head over ears in love with Blue-Eyes. The feeling I
had once cherished toward Belle Marigold, compared with my sudden
adoration of this glorious stranger, was as bean-soup to the condensed
extract of beef, as water to wine, as milk to cream, as mush to
mince-pie.
I do not think I slept a wink that night. My room was suffocating, and
I took a pillow, and crawled out on the roof of the kitchen, just
under my window, and stretched myself out on the shingles, and winked
back at the stars which winked at me, and thought of the bright,
flashing eyes of the bewitching unknown. I resolved to seek her
acquaintance, through her brother, and never, never to blunder again,
but to be calm and cool like other young men--calm, cool, and
persistent. It might have been four o'clock in the morning that I came
to this determination, and so soothing was it, that I was able to take
a brief nap after it.
I was awakened by young Knickerbocker, the lady's brother, tickling
the soles of my feet with a rake, and I started up with such violence
from a sound sleep, that I slipped on the inclined plane, rolled down
to the edge, and went over into a hogshead of rain-water just
underneath.
"A capital way to take your morning bath," smiled Knickerbocker.
"Come, Mr. Flutter, get out of that, and find your rod and line, and
come along. I have a good breakfast in this basket, which we will eat
in some dewy nook of the woods, while we are waiting for a nibble. The
early bird catches the worm, you know."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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