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embarrassed and slid away. She moved closer and whis­pered; he slid away. That went on until, just as the singer finished, she gave the boy a final love shove and he fell off the end of the bench. I thought the audience would tear up the seats.
Looking as frustrated as the wizened cherries on her old-fashioned straw hat, Cousin Minnie Pearl stepped to the microphone and said that her sweetie, Hezzy, would never have treated her that way. "Hezzy says the best way to git a feller is to be soft . . . and feminine . . . and . . . sweet . . . and mild . . . and tender . . . and RICH! 'Course it don't hurt none t' have a purty figger, like mine. It's the dumb gals that count on their fingers. The smart ones counts on their legs. But I don't have to worry none as long as I got Hezzy. Oh, that Hezzy! He's what you call a regular lady-killer, gals that go out with Hezzy says they've never spent such a dead evening." The hall and yours truly were rock­ing by this time, but Minnie didn't wait for laughs.
"That reminds me, we went huntin' the other day. Be­fore we started out, Uncle Nabob went out back of the woodshed to do some practicin'. I didn't hear no shootin', but I knowed he were practicin' because when he come back he said he alius felt better with a few shots under his belt. But everybody says brother is the best shot in our fam'ly. Uncle Nabob is the best half shot."
She switched back to her favorite topic, men: "Here it is 'way past fall and still there ain't no feller that's fell for me. Seems like the only way I kin git a feller to fall for me is to trip 'im. I git so sad when I think about it. Matter of fact, last night I sorta cried a little to myself. A tear ran down my cheek. Then it took one look at my face and run right back up again.
"I guess all us women is alike, though. Ever notice how consistent a woman is? When she's a young gal she spreads love and kisses. Then she gets married and spreads joy and sunshine. Then when she gets into middle age, she just spreads—." The audience screamed until the rafters quiv­ered.
I was beginning to feel right at home on the stage, what with all the company I had. If I'd had my harpsichord I