"Well, I'll be shot," ejaculated the printer, "I've seen fellows take
a tumble before, but hang me if I ever saw a man so completely
kerflummuxed. Great shade of the immortal Benjamin F--! But you were
a sight--must be you're not used to the ladies. Seemed all right though
when you got your legs under you and your mouth agoing. What in time
ailed you anyway?"
"Who is she?" asked Dick, ignoring the other's laughter, and dodging
his question.
"Who is she? Why I introduced you to her, man; her name is Amy Goodrich.
Her daddy is that old duffer who keeps the hardware store, and is so
eminently respectable that you can't get near him unless you have a
pedigree and a bank account. Amy is the only daughter, but she has a
brother though who takes after the old man. The girl takes after herself
I reckon." Dick made no reply and Udell continued: "The whole family
are members of the swellest church in the city, but the girl is the
only one who works at it much. She teaches in the Mission Sunday School;
leads in the Young People's Society and all that. I don't imagine the
old folks like it though; too common you know." And he went off to
look after the boy again, who was slowly but painfully running off the
bill-heads that Dick had fixed on the press.
"What's the matter with him, George?" asked that individual, leaning
wearily against the machine; "Did he faint agin, or was he havin' a
fit?"
"You shut up and get that job off sometime this week," answered Udell,
as he jerked the lever of the electric motor four notches to the right.
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