"Good morrow to you, sir," said she.

"Good morrow to you too, ma'am," replied the Philo-
sopher. "Sit down beside me here and eat some of my
cake."

"Why wouldn't I, indeed," said the woman, and she
did sit beside him.

The Philosopher cracked a large piece off his cake
and gave it to her and she ate some.

"There's a taste on that cake," said she. "Who made
it?"

"My wife did," he replied.

"Well, now!" said she, looking at him. "Do you
know, you don't look a bit like a married man."

"No?" said the Philosopher.

"Not a bit. A married man looks comfortable and
settled: he looks finished, if you understand me, and a
bachelor looks unsettled and funny, and he always wants
to be running round seeing things. I'd know a married
man from a bachelor any day."

"How would you know that?" said the Philosopher.