"It's a hard case," said the Philosopher.

"It is," said the woman, "and I'm sick and sorry with
the trouble of it."

"And why did you say that I had come up in a good
minute?"

"Because, Mister Honey, when a woman has two men
to choose from she doesn't know what to do, for two
men always become like brothers so that you wouldn't
know which of them was which: there isn't any more
difference between two men than there is between a
couple of hares. But when there's three men to choose
from, there's no trouble at all; and so I say that it's your-
self I'll marry this night and no one else--and let you
two men be sitting quiet in your places, for I'm telling
you what I'll do and that's the end of it."

"I'll give you my word," said the first man, "that I'm
just as glad as you are to have it over and done with."

"Moidered I was," said the second man, "with the
whole argument, and the this and that of it, and you not
able to say a word but--maybe I will and maybe I won't,
and this is true and that is true, and why not to me and
why not to him--I'll get a sleep this night."

The Philosopher was perplexed.