He thought himself not dressed well enough He wished his shoulders were not so square, and his arms not so stout.

He wished that he had book-larnin' enough to court in nice, big words.

And so, by recounting his own deficiencies, he succeeded in making himself feel weak, and awkward, and generally good-for-nothing, by the time he walked up between the rows of dead hollyhocks to the Squire's front door, to tap at which took all his remaining strength.
Miss Martha received her perspiring lover most graciously, but this only convinced Bud more than ever that she was a superior being.

If she had slighted him a bit, so as to awaken his combativeness, his bashfulness might have disappeared.
It was in vain that Martha inquired about his arm and complimented his courage.

Bud could only think of his big feet, his clumsy hands, and his slow tongue.