It doesn't amount to anything; it never
did and never will, and now that you're here and the rabbit season will
soon be in, we'll have other things to think of. But you must remember
I'm not the only man in the world who's been a bit of a fool in his
time."
"No," said I. "May I be spared myself, but see here, Tim, how does it
feel?"
"How does what feel?" snapped Tim.
"To be in love the way you are," I answered.
"Oh!" he exclaimed.
He had been taken back, and hesitated between anger and amusement.
When Tim hesitates he loses his temper as a sensible man should lose
it--he buries it, and his indomitable good humor wins.
"Tip Pulsifer says it's like religion," he answered. "At first it
makes you feel all low-down like, and miserable, and you don't care.
Then you either get over it entirely or become so used to it you don't
feel it at all."
"May I be spared!" I cried, "and may you get over it."
But the youngster refused to commit himself. He just smiled and
smoked, and it seemed as though in his suffering he was half happy.
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