On being invited to a dance near San Patricio, circa 1875:

"...And there I was handed the sourest lemon I had ever tasted. During the evening I approached a young miss of “sweet sixteen,” Lizzie Hinnant, whom I had met a few times before, and asked her for a dance. Without even the stereotyped excuse of a previous engagement she answered simply and curtly “No.” Feeling somewhat melted I thought I would embarrass her in turn, so I thanked her and told her that since there remained in the sea as good fish as had ever been caught, I’d cast my line in another place. Instead of “wilting,” as I thought she would, she came back with this: “Certainly there are, but unfortunately for you they have quit biting at toads.” I retired to the “shade of an old apple tree” and butted my head against it in sheer desperation. Since then I have known that the “Yellow Rose of Texas” grows on a thorny bush.”"

(From The Trail Drivers of Texas)
 



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