"You will not," said Ajax. "Remember, Jasperson, that a burning black
eye indicates jealousy, which you must beware of arousing. Don't
praise too wantonly the beauty of Miss Dutton's sisters and cousins;
but if the father is well-looking, pay your mistress the compliment of
saying that the children of true lovers always take after the father.
In turning the leaves of the album you might touch her hand, quite
accidentally. No less an authority than Mr. Pickwick commends a
respectful pressure."

"I'll do it," exclaimed Jasperson, "I'll do it, sure!"

"Has she a pretty hand?" I asked.

"Has she a pretty hand!" echoed the lover, in disdainful tones, "She
has the hand of a queen! The Empress of Roosia ain't got a whiter nor
a finer hand! Miss Birdie ain't done no harder work than smackin' a
kid that needs it."

"I've heard," said I, "that she can smack--hard."

"An' I'd be a liar if I denied it," replied Jasperson. "Wal,
gen'lemen, I'm obligated to ye. Next Sabbath I'll wade right in."

Upon the following Sunday our hero rose betimes, tubbed himself,
shaved himself, perfumed his small person with bergamot, and then
arrayed it in the ivy-bosomed shirt and the $75 suit of broadcloth.
His toilet occupied just two hours and seventeen minutes. Ajax
decorated the lapel of his coat with a handsome rosebud, and then the
impatient swain tied round his neck a new white silk handkerchief,