Altho I hankerd intensly arter the objeck of my affecshuns, I darsunt tell her of the fires which was rajin in my manly Buzzom. I’d try to do it but my tung would kerwollup up agin the roof of my mowth & stick thar, like deth to a deseast Afrikan, or a country postmaster to his offiss, while my hart whanged agin my ribs like a old-fashioned wheat Flale agin a barn door. ’Twas a carm still nite in Joon. All nater was husht and nary zeffer disturbed the sereen silens. I sot with Betsy Jane on the fense of her farther’s pastur. We’d bin rompin threw the woods, kullin flours & drivin the woodchuck from his Native Lair (so to speak) with long sticks. Wall we sot thar on the fense, a swingin our feet two and fro, blushin as red as the Baldinsville skool house when it was fust painted, and lookin very simple, I make no doubt. My left arm was ockepied in ballunsin myself on the fense, while my rite was woundid luvinly round her waste. [Illustration: “I CLEARED MY THROAT AND TREMBLINLY SED, ‘BETSY, YOU’RE A GAZELLE.’”] I cleared my throat and tremblinly sed, “Betsy, you’re a Gazelle.” I thought that air was putty fine. I waitid to see what effeck it would hav upon her. It evidently didn’t fetch her, for she up and sed— “You’re a sheep!” Sez I, “Betsy, I think very muchly of you.” “I don’t b’leeve a word you say—so there now cum!” with which obsarvashun she hitched away from me. “I wish thar was winders to my Sole,” said I, “so that you could see some of my feelins. There’s fire enuff in here,” said I, strikin my buzzum with my fist, “to bile all the corn beef and turnips in the naberhood. Versoovius and the Critter ain’t a circumstans!” She bowd her hed down and commenst chawin the strings to her sun bonnet. “Ar could you know the sleeplis nites I worry threw with on your account, how vittles has seized to be attractiv to me, & how my lims has shrunk up, you wouldn’t dowt me. Gase on this wastin form and these ’ere sunken cheeks——” I should have continnered on in this strane probly for sum time, but unfortnitly I lost my ballunse and fell over into the pastur kersmash, tearin my close and seveerly damagin myself ginerally. Betsy Jane sprung to my assistance in dubble quick time and dragged me 4th. Then drawin herself up to her full hite, she said: “I won’t listen to your noncents no longer. Jes say rite strate out what you’re drivin at. If you mean gettin hitched, I’M IN!” I considered that air enuff for all practical purpusses, and we proceeded immejitly to the parson’s, and was made 1 that very nite. (Notiss to the Printer. Put some stars here.) * * * * *