116 THE FOGY DAYS AND NOW; 



opportunity perhaps lost forever. This fact aroused me to a 

 a sense of the situation, lost, lost, lost, seemed to ring through 

 my burning brain ; the extremity of the case impelled me to 

 heroic action, it was the " denier resort," and resolved to 

 plunge the rubicon, suddenly exclaimed aloud, "the die is 

 cast," every muscle of my body taught with excitement, with 

 distorted features, the fingers of both hands lun through my 

 disheveled hair, blood-shot eyes, nearly po])ping from their 

 sockets, I sprang like a wild varmint in the pathwa}"- fronting 

 the angelic damsel, and with the yell of an Indian, cried: 

 "Stand, brave Saxon, stand." She gave one glance of horror 

 at my demoniacal expression, then sprang past like a fright- 

 ened deer and fled to the safety of her homa. 



I stood transfixed, rooted, grounded to the spot, and would 

 no doubt be there yet, a pillar of salt, but for my affectionate 

 cousin, who sought and led me from the fatal spot. 



I never tried it again by word of mouth, but after a lapse of 

 time I wrote her a beautiful epistle, which she answered 

 promptly, saying her hand was pledged to another, but would 

 ever esteem me as one of her most devoted admirers. Then I 

 felt my sandy hair would surely go dov/n in sorrew to an early 

 grave ; but it didn't, I'm still on deck, without an apparent 

 scar, married another girl, have lived with her thirty-flve years 

 reasonably happy and content. Amen. 



