"He's nothing but a molasses-tapper!"
Sally began to drift farther away and to sing. Calling Pritz names was
of no consequence--except that it kept Seffy from making love to her
while he was doing it--which seemed foolish to Sally. The old man came
up and brought them together again.
"Oach! go 'long and make lofe some more. I like to see it. I expect I
am an old fool, but I like to see it--it's like ol' times--yas, and if
you don't look out there, Seffy, I'll take a hand myself--yassir! go
'long!"
He drew them very close together, each looking the other way. Indeed he
held them there for a moment, roughly.
Seffy stole a glance at Sally. He wanted to see how she was taking his
father's odiously intimate suggestion. But it happened that Sally wanted
to see how he was taking it. She laughed with the frankest of joy as
their eyes met.
"Seffy--I _do_--like you," said the coquette. "And you ought to know it.
You imp!"
Now this was immensely stimulating to the bashful Seffy.
"I like _you_," he said--"ever since we was babies."
"Sef--I don't believe you. Or you wouldn't waste your time so--about Sam
Pritz!"
"Er--Sally--where you going to to-night?" Seffy meant to prove himself.
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