I've
had my pleasant trespasses in the past, but when I look backward on 'em
now, to save my life, I can't remember anything about 'em but some small
painful mishap that al'ays went along with 'em an' sp'iled the pleasure.
Thar was the evening I dressed up in my best clothes an' ran off to
Applegate to take a yellow haired circus lady, in pink skirts, out to
supper. It ought to have been a fine, glorious bit of wickedness to
remember, but the truth was that I'd put on a new pair of boots, an' one
of 'em pinched so in the toes that I couldn't think of another thing
the whole blessed evening. 'Tis al'ays that way in my experience of
life--when you glance back or glance befo' 'tis pleasant enough to the
eye, but at the moment while you're linin' it thar's al'ays the damn
shoe that pinches."
"Ah, you're right, you're right, Mr. Doolittle," remarked William Ming,
who had lingered in the doorway to follow the conversation.
"It's life, that's what it is," commented Solomon, heaving a sigh that
burst a button hole in his blue shirt. "An' what's mo' than life, it's
marriage. When I see the way some men wear themselves out with wantin'
little specks of women, I say to myself over an' over agin, 'Ah, if they
only knew that thar ain't nothin' in it except the wantin'.
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