nder how
you could expect to relish your food after lounging about doing nothing
all the morning! I'll be bound that if you had been in your shop
ironing hats or waiting on your customers since breakfast-time, there
would have been no complaint about the dinner."

Mr. Parker was taken all aback. This was speaking out plainly "with a
vengeance." Since his retirement from business, his self-estimation had
arisen very high, compared with what it had previously been; he was, of
course, more easily offended. To leave the dinner-table was the first
impulse of offended dignity.

So broad a rupture as this had not occurred between the husband and
wife since the day of their marriage--not that causes equally potent
had not existed, for Mrs. Parker, when any thing excited her, was not
over-choice of her words, and had frequently said more cutting things;
but then her husband was not so easily disturbed--he had not so high an
opinion of himself.

It was still raining heavily, but rain could no longer keep the latter
at home. He went forth and walked aimlessly the streets for an hour,
thinking bitter things against his wife all the while. But this was
very unhappy work, and he was glad to seek relief from it by calling in
upon a brother craftsman, whose shop happened to be in his way. The
hatter was singing at his work as he had used to sing--he never sang at
his work now.

"This is a very dull day," was the natural remark of Mr. Parker, after
first salutations were over.

"Why, yes, it is a little dull," replied the tradesman, speaking in a
tone that said, "But it didn't occur to me before."

"How is business now?" asked Mr. Parker.

"Very brisk; I am so busy that, rain or shine, it never seems dull to
me."

"You haven't as many customers in."

"No; but then I get a little ahead in my work, and that is something
gained. Rain or shine, friend Parker, it's all the same to me."

"That is, certainly, a very comfortable state of mind to be in. I find
a rainy day hard to get through."

"I don't think I would, if I were in your place," said the old
acquaintance. "If I could do no better, I would lie down and sleep away
the time."

"And remain awake half the night in return for it. No; that won't do.
To lie half-asleep and half-awake for three or four hours makes one
feel miserable."

The hatter thought this a very strange admission. He did not believe
that, if he could afford to live without work, he would find even rai