It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary. Just as Pygmalion loved the perfect woman he had fashioned, so I loved mine. I determined to acquaint her with my feelings at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our relationship from academic to romantic. "Polly," I said when next we sat beneath our oak, "tonight we will not discuss fallacies."
"Aw, gee, " she said, disappointed.
"My dear ," I said, favoring her with a smile, "we have spent five evening together, We have gotten along splendidly. It is clear that we are well matched."
"Hasty Generalization, " said Polly brightly.
"I beg your pardon," said I.
"Hasty Generalization," she repeated. "How can you say that we are well matched on the basis of only five dates?"
I chuckled with amusement. The dear child had learned her lesson well. "My dear," I said, patting her hand in a tolerant manner. "Five dates is plenty. After all, you don't have to eat a whole cake to know that it's good."
"False Analogy," said Polly promptly. "I'm not a cake. I'm a girl,"
I chuckled with somewhat less amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons perhaps too well. I decided to change tactics. Obviously the best approach was a simple, strong, direct declaration of love. I paused for a moment while my massive brain chose the proper words. Then I began:
"Polly, I love you. You are the whole world to me, and the moon and the stars and the constellations of outer space. Please, my darling, say that you will go steady with me, for if you will not, life will be meaningless. I will languish. I will refuse my meals. I will wander the face of earth, a shambling, hollow-eyed hulk." There, I thought, folding my arms that ought to do it.
"Ad Misericordiam," said Polly.
I ground my teeth. I was not Pygmalion; I was Frankenstein, and my monster had me by the throat. Frantically I fought back the tide of panic surging through me. At all costs I had to keep cool.
"Well, Polly," I said, forcing a smile, "you certainly have learned your fallacies."
"You're darn right," she said with a vigorous nod.
"And who taught them to you, Polly?"
"You did."
"That's right. So you do owe me something. don't you my dear? If I hadn't come along you never would have learned about fallacies."
"Hypothesis Contrary to Fact." she said instantly.
I dashed perspiration from my brow. "Polly," I croaked,"you mustn't take all these things so literally. I mean this is just classroom stuff. You know that the things you learn in school don't have anything to do with life."
"Dicto Simpliciter," she said, wagging her finger at me playfully.
That did it. I leaped to my feet, bellowing like a bull. "Will you or will you not go steady with me?"
"I will not," she replied, "Why not?" I demanded. "Because this afternoon I promised Petey Burch that I would go steady with him."
"Poisoning the Well," said Polly, "and stop shouting. I think shouting must be a fallacy too."
With an immense effort of will, I modulated my voice. "All right," I said. "You're a logician. Let's look at this thing logically. How could you choose Petey Burch over me? Look at me -- a brilliant student a tremendous intellectual, a man with an assured future. Look at Petey -- a knothead, a jitterbug, a guy who'll never know where his next meal is coming from. Can you give me one logical reason why you should go steady with Petey Burch?"
"I certainly can," declared Polly. "He's got a raccoon coat."
(The End)
Max Schulman
Max Schulman