Then, too, a girl misses a possible opportunity of seeing a man blush and stammer.  One does not often get a chance to see a man willingly making himself ridiculous, and the spectacle is worth waiting for.

[Sidenote:  Confusion and Awkwardness]

Confusion and awkwardness are high trumps with a woman, for they indicate inexperience and uncertainty.  The man who proposes in a finished and nonchalant manner, as if he had done it frequently and were sure of the result, is now and then astonished at a refusal.  It is also a risk to offer a ring immediately after acceptance.  The suspicion is that the ring has been worn before, or else the man was sure enough of the girl to invest heavily in his future.

Sometimes a man will disclose to a platonic friend the form he habitually employs in proposals.  The hero of battle engagements has proverbial charm for woman, and the hero of matrimonial engagements is meat and drink to the spinster athirst for knowledge.

Feed the man, and when the brotherly love for the entire universe begins to radiate, approach him gently upon the subject.

“Why, bless your little heart,” the man will say, “of course I’ll tell you about it.  Yes, you’re right in supposing that I know more about it than anyone else you know.  I’ve never been refused in my life and I know I’ve asked a hundred.  I’ve had medals for that.

“I always try to make each one different,” he will continue.  “Girls sometimes compare notes and it makes it awkward.  The girl I’m engaged to now doesn’t know any of my other girls, though, so I’m safe enough.

[Sidenote:  “One of the Best Proposals”]

“I’ll never forget the way I did that.  I think it was one of the best proposals I ever made.  She’s a mighty pretty little thing,—­blue eyes and black hair,—­a regular Irish type.  I must tell you first, though, how I came to know her.

“The one I was engaged to just before I asked her, had just broken it off on account of property which her children would lose if she married again.  She was a widow, you know.  I’ve told you about her—­the one with red hair.  Between you and me, that’s the only woman in God’s world my heart ever went out to.  That is the love of my life.  Her little girl, eleven years old, was in love with me, too.  She used to tremble when I kissed her, and was jealous of her mother.  But this little girl I’m engaged to now, why I just love the ground she walks on.

[Sidenote:  “A Very Peculiar Affair”]

“Well,” after a pause, “this was a very peculiar affair.  Of course I was all broken up over losing her—­couldn’t eat nor sleep—­I was a perfect wreck.  This old friend of mine happened along, and he says, ’You’ll have to brace up, old man.  Come on out to my house in the country and rest up a bit.’  So I went, and met his daughter.

“Five days after I met her, I asked him for her hand.  I explained it to him just as I would to my own father, and he understood all right.  He’s a fine fellow.  He said I could have her.  Of course I’d asked her first.