He gave me a
beautiful silk parasol that I know didn't cost him less than four pairs
of seats. And all this before he asked me for my hand in marriage.
Honest, I'll never forget the night he proposed as long as I live. Not
that I never was proposed to before, and some of them would have had me
starred, but the romantic surroundings and all that kind of thing. It
was this way: Me and him were the guests at a beefsteak party, and after
the fourth drink he commenced to show me marked attention, and when we
got out of the cab in front of my hotel he offered to help me upstairs,
though I generally have a bellboy for that purpose, and when we had got
up in my apartment and Estelle had gone to give the bellhop a quarter
and the pitcher, he popped the question, and such beautiful language, I
remembered it the next morning and wrote it down.
He held my shrinking little hand in his and said, "Say, Kid, you've made
an awful good showing with me. Believe it, I could plant your stuff all
the rest of my life, and while I ain't much of a litho myself, still I
can get away with it and am the man who invented red on yellow. I can't
pay for many electric signs for you, but still if you'll plant your
heart in my cut-trunk I'll guarantee there won't be any excess and I'm
making money enough to O.K. most of your extras.
"Listen, Party, we'll split my salary fifty-fifty every Saturday night.
I got good backing in the bank, and I want you to be my little star.
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