the kitchen for a smoke. We could hear from the sitting-room the continuous restful murmur of the women's voices, rising and falling in the responsive cadences of that sweet communion that betokens, even in the most prosaic utterances,[Pg 57] the mingling of kindred spirits of the gentle sex. I look back upon that evening as one of the pleasantest I ever spent, and I enjoyed to the full the quaint sayings and funny stories of the genial little man who entertained me.

[Pg 56]

[Pg 57]

The clock struck eleven before either of us noticed the lateness of the hour. Andy rose reluctantly, knocking the ashes out of his pipe.

"Well, Mr. Carton," said he, "I'm mighty glad you're goin' to be a neighbor of mine. The women-folk seem to have hit it off, too," he added, opening the door into the next room, "and"——

He stopped speaking, and a look of astonishment crossed his face as a tumultuous babel of conversation reached our ears. The voices no longer rose and fell—they rose steadily, each dominating the other, it seemed, and yet—marvel of marvels!—in perfect amity, though they no longer responded but spoke at one and the same time.

"If it was two men?" whispered Andy, with a chuckle.

[Pg 58]

[Pg 58]

"Exactly," I replied; "it would mean a fight."

We listened intently. It was a problem—simple to the speakers—of gussets, and pleats, and back widths, and yet not one connected sentence could we hear.

"I tell you what, Mr. Carton," said Andy, in his hoarse whisper, "I've been married forty-two years, and I ain't found anything yet as entertainin' as the ways of a woman."

"Well," I suggested, "what about the ways of two women?"

Andy doubled himself over in silent glee; as for me, I felt that I had said something rather neat, and tried not to smile myself. Just then the voices in the next room suddenly ceased.

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Taylor. "It's after eleven. I wonder what them men is talkin' about so quiet in the kitchen. If your 

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