hat he generally marries young;
not because 'e wants to, but because somebody else wants 'im to. And
that ain't the worst of it: the handsomest chap I ever knew married five
times, and got seven years for it. It wasn't his fault, pore chap; he
simply couldn't say No.

One o' the best-looking men I ever knew was Cap'n Bill Smithers, wot
used to come up here once a week with a schooner called the Wild Rose.
Funny thing about 'im was he didn't seem to know about 'is good looks,
and he was one o' the quietest, best-behaved men that ever came up the
London river. Considering that he was mistook for me more than once, it
was just as well.

He didn't marry until 'e was close on forty; and then 'e made the
mistake of marrying a widder-woman. She was like all the rest of 'em--
only worse. Afore she was married butter wouldn't melt in 'er mouth,
but as soon as she 'ad got her "lines" safe she began to make up for it.

For the fust month or two 'e didn't mind it, 'e rather liked being
fussed arter, but when he found that he couldn't go out for arf an hour
without having 'er with 'im he began to get tired of it. Her idea was
that 'e was too handsome to be trusted out alone; and every trip he made
'e had to write up in a book, day by day, wot 'e did with himself. Even
then she wasn't satisfied, and, arter saying that a wife's place was by
the side of 'er husband, she took to sailing with 'im every v'y'ge.

Wot he could ha' seen in 'er I don't know. I asked 'im one evening--in
a roundabout way--and he answered in such a long, roundabout way that I
didn't know wot to make of it till I see that she was standing just
behind me, listening. Arter that I heard 'er asking questions about me,
but I didn't 'ave to listen: I could hear 'er twenty yards away, and
singing to myself at the same time.

Arter that she treated me as if I was the dirt beneath 'er feet. She
never spoke to me, but used to speak against me to other people. She
was always talking to them about the "sleeping-sickness" and things o'
that kind. She said night-watchmen always made 'er think of it somehow,
but she didn't know why, and she couldn't tell you if you was to ask
her. The only thing I was thankful for was that I wasn't 'er husband.
She stuck to 'im like his shadow, and I began to think at last it was a
pity she 'adn't got some thing to be jealous about and something to
occupy her mind with instead o' me.

"She ought to 'ave a lesson," I ses to the