chin or no chin. When a woman has once throwed herself in front of her
idol, it hain't so much matter whether it is stuffed full of gold, or
holler: it hain't so much matter _what_ they be, I think. Curius,
hain't it?

It hain't the easiest thing in the world for such a woman as Cicely to
love, but it is a good deal easier for her than to unlove, as she found
out afterwards. For twice before her marriage she saw him out of his head
with liquor; and it wus my advice to her, to give him up.

And she tried to unlove him, tried to give him up.

But, good land! she might jest as well have took a piece of her own heart
out, as to take out of it her love for him: it had become a part of her.
And he told her she could save him, her influence could redeem him, and it
wus the only thing that could save him.

And Cicely couldn't stand such talk, of course; and she believed him--
believed that she could love him so well, throw her influence so around
him, as to hold him back from any evil course.

It is a beautiful hope, the very beautifulest and divinest piece of folly
a woman can commit. Beautiful enough in the sublime martyrdom of the idee,
to make angels smile; and vain enough, and foolish enough in its utter
uselessness, to make sinners weep. It can't be done--not in 98 cases out
of a 100 at least.

Why, if a man hain't got love enough for a woman when he is tryin' to win
her affection,--when he is on probation, as you may say,--to stop and turn
round in his downward course, how can she expect he will after he has got