All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE NINETY-NINTH PROPOSAL. ‘Nanny won’t make me wait until I’m getting a hundred a week,” said Billy con- fidently. “ Well, the fact remains that she’s making you wait on a hundred a month,” said Mr. Van Zandt. Billy stared at him for several moments resentfully searching his mind for an an- swer. Thus it was borne in upon him that it now was more essential than ever to get some kind of an answer from Nanny. His strategy had failed and he was but- dened in addition with a goal of extraordi- nary financial proportions. The Van Zandts thought nothing except money, he told him- self bitterly. ‘T think this will be all for now,” he said, rising. ‘“‘Glad you came in,” said Van Zandt, offering his hand. ‘ Always best to under- stand these things. Give a little thought to the matter and I’m sure you'll see there is something to my way of thinking. It costs a lot to live these days in double harness— even when the girl is willing to try the ex- periment.” Billy nearly knocked the dignified Sims over as he went out. And he didn’t take the trouble to stop and apologize, either. YI. Ir is marvelous how much of a kid a man can be at twenty-three; and even more marvelous, for that matter, how much of a kid he can be at thirty-four! é Nanny, from the heights of her superior mental years—twenty—looked down upon Billy’s material twenty-three years with something akin to pity and amusement. It is within the province of all women that they shall forever tolerate the men. That word never has been better used. It is within their province to tolerate then’ and their natural duty to look after them. No masculine joy is quite equal to that of being looked after by a woman—provid- ing it is the right woman. It is instinct. Even ridiculously young men of twenty- three, say, have this instinct. Billy had it. And whenever Billy wished to be reminded of the right woman in fs eyes he had but 129 to look in the back of his watch-case from which position the smiling features of Nan- ny Van Zandt looked up at him through the medium of the photographer’s art; al- though the reproduction was somewhat blurred and faded because of a repeated ceremony of affection which had transferred much of the gloss to Billy’s lips. “ Two nights after the interview with Mr. Van Zandt, which was a secret between Billy and Nanny’s father so far as he— Billy—knew, the two young people sat upon the Van Zandt front porch. “Tf I was the only man on an island. Nanny, and all the girls in the world were there on the island with me, except you; and if you were on another island miles away—” ‘With all the men?” she broke in. ‘““Nanny, how can you be so downright mean!” he ejaculated. It was his eighth proposal that week. And he had expected it to prove a knack- out. He had intended to say that if she had Deen on another island, miles away, he would have turned his back upon all the other girls in the world on the island with him, to make the attempt to swim to her. A very pretty thought. Putting over very cleverly, he had hoped, his preference for her to all other girls of this country or any other. But Nanny’s cynicism of her superior mental years—carrying with it a wreath of girlish humor—had effectively unsaddled his extravagant comparison. It ended the proposals for that week. Billy now began to set store by methods rather than by words. He prodded his in- Ventive faculties for new and out-of-the- ordinary ways in which to ask Nanny tc marry him. Maybe one of the methods would prove so unusual as to catch her off her guard and draw a favorable answer. Perhaps she could be startled into accepting him without fur- ther delay. And isn’t woman suspectible to a persistent suitor? Faint heart, you know, never filled any family cars. Thus one evening as Nanny walked homeward she looked up suddenly to find Billy hanging by his toes from a branch which arched. over the sidewalk. Owing cCoOmiclbooks C©