woman! she did think she would rouse him up a bit with that. She had taken the trouble to fill the bucket, perhaps been a long way to get specially dirty water. And she waited for him. And then to be met in such a way, after all! Most likely she sat down, and had a good cry afterwards. It must have seemed all so hopeless to the poor child; and, for all we know, she had no mother to whom she could go and abuse him.
What was it to her that her husband was a great philosopher? Great philosophy don't count in married life.
There was a very good little boy once who wanted to go to sea. And the captain asked him what he could do. He said he could do the multiplication table backwards, and paste seaweed in a book; that he knew how many times the word "begat" occurred in the Old Testament; and could recite "The Boy stood on the Burning Deck," and Wordsworth's "We are Seven."
"Werry good—werry good, indeed," said the man of the sea, "and ken yer kerry coals?"
It is just the same when you want to marry. Great ability is not required so much as little usefulness. Brains are at a discount in the married state. There is no demand for them, no appreciation even. Our wives sum us up according to a standard of their own, in which brilliancy of intellect obtains no marks. Your lady and mistress is not at all impressed by your cleverness and talent, my dear reader—not in the slightest,
