A comic Lover named George was sitting on the Front Porch with a good Side Hold on your old friend Mabel. They were looking into each other’s Eyes at Close Range and using a rancid Line of Nursery Talk.
It was the kind of Conversation calculated to Jar a Person.
George murmured that Mabel was George’s own Baby-Daby and she Allowed that he was a Tooney-Wooney little Bad Boy to hold his Itsy-Bitsy Bun of a Mabel so tight she could hardly breave. It was a sort of Dialogue that Susan B. Anthony would love to sit up Nights to Read.
While they were Clinched, Mabel’s Father, a large, Self-Made Man, came down the Stairway and out to the Veranda.
This is where the Fable begins to Differentiate.
Although the Girl’s name was Mabel and the Young Man’s name was George, and the Father was a Self-Made Man, the Father did not Kick the Young Man.
He asked him if he had Anything to Smoke.
George gave him an Imported Panetella and said He didn’t believe it was going to Rain. Mabel’s Father said it looked Black in the West, but he Reckoned it might blow around, like as not. Mabel said she wouldn’t be a bit Surprised if it did blow around.
Mabel’s Father told Mabel she could show George where the Ice-Box wuz in case he Expressed a Hankerin’, and then he went down street to examine some Fishing Tackle just purchased by a Friend of his in the Hay and Feed Business. Just as Father struck the Cement Walk George changed to the Strangle Hold.
MORAL: The Exception proves the Rule.