I'd make you feel kinder pleasant, I know, and you'd jist bend your face over to it, and take it as kindly as a gall does a whisper, when your lips keep jist a brushin' of the cheek while you are a talkin'.

I wouldn't go to shock you by a doin' of it coarse; you are too quick, and too knowin' for that.

You should smell the otter o' roses, and sniff, sniff it up your nostrils, and say to yourself, 'How nice that is, ain't it?
Come, I like that, how sweet it stinks!' I wouldn't go for to dash scented water on your face, as a hired lady does on a winder to wash it, it would make you start back, take out your pocket-handkercher, and say, "Come, _Mister_ Slick, no nonsense, if you please." I'd do it delicate, I know my man: I'd use a light touch, a soft brush, and a smooth oily rouge." "Pardon me," I said, "you overrate your own powers, and over-estimate my vanity.

You are flattering yourself now, you can't flatter me, for I detest it." "Creation, man," said Mr.Slick, "I have done it now afore your face, these last five minutes, and you didn't know it.

Well, if that don't bang the bush.