They
take the rag off the bush quite; a woman "that will come" and a horse
that "will go" ought to make any man happy. Give me a gall that all I
have to say to is, "Quick, pick up chips and call your father to
dinner," and a horse that enables you to say, "I am thar." That's all
I ask. Now just look at the different sorts of love-making in this
world. First, there is boy and gall love; they are practising the
gamut, and a great bore it is to hear and see them; but poor little
things, their whole heart and soul is in it, as they were the year
before on a doll or a top. They don't know a heart from a gizzard, and
if you ask them what a soul is, they will say it is the dear sweet
soul they love. It begins when they enter the dancing-school, and ends
when they go out into the world; but after all, I believe it is the
only real romance in life.
Then there is young maturity love, and what is that half the time
based on? vanity, vanity, and the deuce a thing else. The young lady
is handsome, no, that's not the word, she is beautiful, and is a
belle, and all the young fellows are in her train. To win the prize is
an object of ambition. The gentleman rides well, hunts and shoots
well, and does everything well, and moreover he is a fancy man, and
all the girls admire him. It is a great thing to conquer the hero,
ain't it? and distance all her companions; and it is a proud thing for
him to win the prize from higher, richer, and more distinguished men
than himself.
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