Evening Star Newspaper, October 4, 1931, Page 88

Uncle Oscar took out his watch .. . . “W hen I say ‘shake,’” he said, “take my - hand and hold onto it until I say ‘squeeze,” and then squceze it and let “ ,0." - How to Hold Hands By Ellis Parker Butler The Famous Humorist Has Written This New Story and It Is a Priceless Lesson in Courtship. Uncle Oscar Knew Exactly How the Young Fellow Should “Count Ten Befnrc He Squeezedy’ Illustrated by Dovothy Urfer. N my twenty-fifth birthday my Uncle Oscar took a pencil and paper end showed me that it would be bectter if we bought baby chicks already h>tched and threw out the incubators. wyes.” I said. “You have convinced me, Uncle Oscar, and I am not surprised, because you are always right.” “I am only proving to y<u, Pawley,” he said “that the best is always best, just as I have alwsys s:id, and whil2 we are talking seri- ously there is another matter in connection with the chicken farm that we might take up now.” «And what is that, Uncle Oscar?” I asked him. 4 “It is time you got marrizd,” he said, “be- cause we certzinly need a wife here to do the housework.” +I agree with you that we do, Uncle Oscar,” I said, “fr you and I have more than enough to do taking care of 2,000 chickens, to say nothing of eggs, but I have never considered myself a merrying men, having made up my mind to be a bachelor. Why do you not get married again, Uncle Oscar?” : “I have been marricd once, Pawley,” said Uncle Oscar, “and in ell f:irness I think it is your turn to provide a wif> to do‘'the house- keeping, because we are equal partners in the Sunnydals Chicken Farm and turn about is fair play.” When he put it thit way I saw he was right. “Have you thought of any one for me to ma:ry, Uncle Oscar?” I asked. “I have made a list of available material, Pawley,” Uncle Oscar said, “and we will go over it carefully, because in the ratter of wives it is best to get the best, particularly for a chicken farm, because all female persons are not what I may call chicken-minded. The best for us would be a healthy person, of a bright and colorful disposition, and not too thin.” E then went down the list, name by name, scratching off such as did not seem to him best for a chicken farmer's wite, and when he was through the cnly name left was that of Miss Effie Prince. " “What do you think of her for our choice?” he asked me. “you have hed mors experience in the wife line than I have had, Uncle Oscar,” I replied, “but if she is your choice I will say I cannot complain.” “That is the way to talk,” Uncle Oscar said, “and we will toke the proper steps as so’n as we get the chicken houses banked up for the Winter.” “You know what is best,” I said, “but you will have to give me advice and help, because Miss Effie Prince always scares me dumb.” . “You can depend on me to the fullest ex- tent, Pawley,” Uncle Oscar assured me. The home of Miss Effie Prince is about two miles from Sunnydale. Chicken Farm and it was her custcm to come to the farm to buy one or more dressed fowl or a dozen or more best white eggs. She then said to my Uncle Oscar, “How’'s Pawley,” for I am by nature of a shy disposition and extremely miserable when The next thing I knew was that Miss Effie Prince was holding my hand . . . 1 counted 10 silently . . . but in my joy I said “Baby Chick!” out loud before squeezing Miss Effie Prince’s hand. in promixity to persons of the female sex and I w:s afraid of Miss Effie Prince. She was all that Uncle Oscar said, being heelthy, of a bright and cheerful disposition, and far from tiin, and had once pushed me in the ribs in a playful manner, saying, “How's old sober-sides today?” For this reason I was usually up by the chicken hous:s, or ¢cn my way there, when she got out of her car at our place. One day Uncle Oscar came home from town looking more worried than before. “I have heard some very bad news, Pawley,” he said. “Eimus Klein told me in the p-st office that Miss Effie Prince's cousin, Grace, is com- ing to visit her and that Effie is going to give a party for her on Halloween. It looks as if Miss Effie was inde:d mad at you, because she hasn't sent you an invite, has she?"” “No,” I said, “I didn't even know she had a cousin Grace.” “That's what ccmes of not putting your best foot forward on any and all occasions,” Uncle Oscar said, “and scooting up to the chicken houses every time Miss Effie Prince came here. I hope this will be a lesson to you, Pawley, to give ycur best, do your best and show your best after this. I am afraid you have ruined everything.” I ne=d not say that I was greatly depressed to think that I had caused Uncle Oscar so much distress, and that was cne reason I went to the political meeting at Lone Oak schoolhouse thit night, hoping it would cheér me up a little. It was almost 11 c'clock when I reached home again, NCLE OSCAR was sitting with his feet on the hearth of the kitchen stove, reading his favorite book, “The Domestic Fowl, Its Care and Diseases,” and he closed the book and took off his spectacles as I entered. “Well, Pawley,” he asked, “and how was the meeting?” It was quite good, Uncle Oscar,” I said. “Miss Effie Prince was there.” You should have seen the change that made in Uncle Oscar. He perked right up. “Did you get a bid?” he asked eagerly. “I got a bid—yes,” I said, trying not to look all set up about it. “And, furthermore, it was all right because she hadn’t sent out any in- vites yet, not being sure her Cousin Grace was coming. And, moreover,” I said, “I'm the first she’s given an invite to.” “Why, now, that's fine, Pawley!” Uncle Oscar exclaimed. “That's great!” “And, still furthermore and moreover,” T saild, “Miss Effie Prince said she’d be real pleased to have me go over to her house to- morrow night and meet her Cousin Grace in- formal-like with cider and doughnuts.” When he heard this Uncle Oscar took both my hands and shook them. “That's the best news I've heard since I don't know when!” he cried. “That's just splendid. Now we're getting somewhere, Paw- ley. Now we've got to put our best foot forward. I'll press them good pants of yours tomorrow. We'll start off right, Pawley. Yes, sir!” The next day I shined my shoes and my Uncle Oscar pressed my good pants and after supper I took a complete bath and shaved care- fully and Uncle Oscar came and sat on my bed to Lelp me dress. “Have you thought what you are going to do whep you get to Miss Effie Prince’s?” he asked me. “I have not thought of anything special,” I told him. “That is the usual thoughtlessness of youth,* said Uncle Oscar, but in a kindly manner. *“I have been through this wife-getting proposition, Pawley, and I can give you some valuable ad- vice that I am sure will make things go more smoothly. “When you get to Miss Effie Prince’s house she wi]l open the door and shake hands with you, and you must hoid onto her hand and not let it go at once. Thai‘h the way I began with your late Aunt Sareh.” “How long ought I to hold onto it?” him. “Not too long.,” said Uncle Oscar, “but long enough to show that not mere friendship but indeed affection is what you regard her with, And, before you let go of her hand, Pawley, give it a squeeze. A squeeze shows that you mean something especial.” “Should I hold onto her hand for about five minutes?” I asked Uncle Oscar. “My goodness, no!” he exclaimed. “That is holding hands and I do not expect you to get to that until you have called on Miss Effie Prince three or four times. Let me have hold of your hand and I will show you how long to hold onto her hand this first time.” I asked NCLE OSCAR then took out his watch and balanced it on his knee. “When I say ‘Shake!' Pawley,” he said, “take my hand and hold onto it until I say ‘Squeeze!" and then squeeze it and let go.” He then waited until the second hand of his watch was in the right place, and said “Shake!™ and I took his hand. “Squeeze!” he said, and I squeezed, and Uncle Oscar jumped up and hopped on one foot with agony on his face, hugging his hand. “Great ghosts and gizzards!” he said. don’'t want to squeeze like that. want to bust her hand all to pieces.” “I am sorry,” I said. “I was only trying to put some affection into it.” “What you put into that squeeze was mur- der,” Uncle Oscar said. “Now t:y it again. And squeeze easy.” “You You dgm't So we tried it again, and Uncle Oscar noted how long it was best to hold Miss Effie Prince’s hand, but he said I had squeezed far too hard. - “That was five seconds to the dot,” he said, “and just about right. You had better count 10 slowly when you first take Miss Effie Prince’s hand, because counting 10 is the same as five seconds.” “Won't Miss Effie Prince think it is odd if T count like that?” “You must not count aloud,” said Uncle Oscar. “Count to yourself. And, above all, do not squeeze too hard, Pawley. I will tell you— when you take Miss Effie Prince’s hand and are ready to squeeze, just pretend you have a baby chick in your hand and you will remember not’ to squeeze her hand to a pulp. Say to youre self, ‘Baby chick.” Count 10 and say ‘Baby chick.” Now let us try it.” I then got ready, and Uncle Oscar said “Shake!"‘and I took his hand. 2 “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—'Baby chick,’” I said, and Uncle Oscar was greatly pleased with the result. “That was fine,” he said. “But remember that you are not to count aloud, because that would probably seem queer to Miss Effie Prince.” I was indeed grateful to Uncle Oscar for this advice and help, and I told him so, and, now being ready for my shirt, I snapped the string of my laundry bundle, and as soon as I had opened the paper Uncle Oscar jumped up from the bed and came to me. “Hello!” he said. “I did not know you had & shirt like that.” “No,” I said, “this is not my shirt,” because one of the two shirts in the bundle was not my shirt. Jt was a very gay shirt with red and white stripes, with two collars with red and white stripes. “The laundry has made a mistake,” I said, “and has sent home the wrong shirt, because this shirt belongs to somebody else.” ® I picked up my own shirt, which was modest, although somewhat worn at the cuffs, and staited putting the collar buttons in it. “Don’'t do that,” Uncle Oscar said. “How often do I have to tell you to put your best foot forward? It is not your fault that the laundry substituted shirts on you, and you have a per- fect right to wear that handsome red and white shirt, and that is the shirt you must wear.” He saw I was still doubtful in my mind. “I would not insist on this, Pawley,” he said, still more seriously, “if I did not know I was$ right. When I first went to call on your late Aunt Sarah I wore my best shirt, and I have never been sorry for it, and I will put it to you this way: Suppose you go to Miss Effie Prince’s home tonight and squeeze-her hand fondly but gently, as if it was a baby chick, and she sees you have on a second-best shirt. She may say, ‘Yes, it is all very well for Pawley Tucker td squeeze my hand, but he does not think much of me personally, because when he comes t0 call on me he wears his second-best shirt.’ That may 1uin everything.” O I put on the red and white shirt and I had to admit that with my green tie with the lavender stripes and the red and white striped collar I was handsomer than I had ever seen myself look. My Uncle Oscar went out to the shed with me to see that I got started without getting~ grease on my cufis. : “Good luck, Pawley!” he called after me, “Count 10 and remember the baby chick.” As I drove to Miss Effie Prince’s I repeated the numbers from one to ten, pressing the steer- ing Wheel gently with my right hand as I said “Baby chick,” and while I was somewhat nerv- ous I felt a pleasant sort of eagerness to be squeezing Miss Effie Prince’s hand. i "I felt very happy indeed, but when I drove. into Miss Effie Prince’s yard I did not feel so happy, because two cars were already parked there. One was Joe Cluff's red rungbout, and the other I was not so sure of, but it looked like Ed Bemis' car, and so it was. Anyway, I got out and put the quilt over the hood of my car and went to the front door, say- ing to myself, “Count 10—baby chick!” and rang the bell, holding out my right hand to shake hands with Miss Effie Prince. No ome answered, so I had to ring the bell again, using my left hand, and then the door began to open. “One—" I said, but the person who stood in Continued on Fifteenth Page.