The Swamp Doctor's Adventures in The South-West: Containing the Whole of The Louisiana Swamp Doctor; Streaks of Squatter Life; and Far-Western Scenes; In a Series of Forty-Two Humorous Southern and Western Sketches, Descriptive of Incidents and CharacterRobb, John S.
General
The Swamp Doctor's Adventures in The South-West: Containing the Whole of The Louisiana Swamp Doctor; Streaks of Squatter Life; and Far-Western Scenes; In a Series of Forty-Two Humorous Southern and Western Sketches, Descriptive of Incidents and Character
Robb, John S.
Southwest, Old -- Social life and customs
The poor girl, with the intuitive perception of her sex, had long
perceived that Jerry loved her as ardently as if the avowal on his part
had already been made. Almost daily she saw him, eagerly she awaited a
declaration, but poor Jerry never could get his courage to the sticking
point; like Bob Acres, it would ooze out at his fingers' points, in
spite of himself and his determination to bring things to the condition
of a fixed fact.
Matters were in this state when I became fully acquainted with them; she
was willing, he was willing, and yet, if they kept on in the way they
were pursuing, they both bid fair to remain in single blessedness for a
long time to come. Deeply interested in the welfare of both parties,
I thought I could not manifest my sympathy better than by kindly
intervening and producing that crisis which I knew would accord with the
feelings of both.
A slight attack of fever of the lady's, not requiring medical aid, but
which a father's fears magnified, and would not be allayed until I had
been sent for, introduced me fully to the confidence of the daughter;
and a trite experiment, which I tried upon her, convinced me that all
that my friend Jerry had to do was to ask, and it would be given.
Holding my fair patient's hand, which, resting in mine, looked like
a pearl in a setting of jet, I placed my fingers upon her pulse, and,
whilst pretending to number it, accidentally, as it were, mentioned
Jerry's name--the sudden thrill that pervaded the artery assured me that
she loved--lifting my eyes to her face, I gave her an expressive look,
which suffused her beauteous countenance, as if she was passing into the
second stage of scarlet fever.
My next duty was to seek Jerry. I found him seated on a log, under a
shady willow by the edge of the bayou, pole in hand, assuming to be
angling. The tense state of his line, and an occasional quiver of the
pole, indicated that a fish was hooked. Passing unnoticed by him,
a stranger would have come to one of three conclusions: that he was
deranged, in love, or a born fool.
Walking up to him briskly, without his hearing me, although I made
considerable noise getting down the bank, I slapped him on the shoulder
to engage his attention, and, as I had several patients to visit, and
time was precious, without waiting for the usual salutations of the day.
commenced my address in a real quarter race manner:--
“Jerry, for a sensible man, and a fellow of courage, you are the
d----dest fool and coward unhung. You love a girl--the girl loves you.
You know that the old people are willing, and that the girl is only
waiting for you to pop the question, to say 'Yes!' and yet, instead
of having the thing over, like white folks, and becoming the head of a
respectable family, here you sit, like a knot on a tree, with the moss
commencing to grow on your back, pretending to be fishing, and yet not
knowing that a big cat is almost breaking your line to shivers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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