, "it is true enough that there have been but few
of the women folk who have had their say, and methinks that it is very
strange and unaccountable, for nearly always they have plenty to speak
in their own behalf."

All who sat there in Twilight Land laughed, and even Patient Grizzle
smiled.

"Very well," said Patient Grizzle, "if you will have it, I will tell you
a story. It is about a fisherman who was married and had a wife of his
own, and who made her carry all the load of everything that happened to
him. For he, like most men I wot of, had found out--"

Where to Lay the Blame.

Many and many a man has come to trouble--so he will say--by following
his wife's advice. This is how it was with a man of whom I shall tell
you.

There was once upon a time a fisherman who had fished all day long and
had caught not so much as a sprat. So at night there he sat by the fire,
rubbing his knees and warming his shins, and waiting for supper that his
wife was cooking for him, and his hunger was as sharp as vinegar, and
his temper hot enough to fry fat.

While he sat there grumbling and growling and trying to make himself
comfortable and warm, there suddenly came a knock at the door. The good
woman opened it, and there stood an old man, clad all in red from head
to foot, and with a snowy beard at his chin as white as winter snow.

The fisherman's wife stood gaping and staring at the strange figure,
but the old man in red walked straight into the hut. "Bring your nets,
fisherman," said he, "and come with me. There is something that I want
you to catch for me, and if I have luck I will pay you for your fishing
as never fisherman was paid before."

"Not I," said the fisherman, "I go out no more this night. I have been
fishing all day long until my back is nearly broken, and have caught
nothing, and now I am not such a fool as to go out and leave a warm fire
and a good supper at your bidding."

But the fisherman's wife had listened to what the old man had said about
paying for the job, and she was of a different mind from her husband.
"Come," said she, "the old man promises to pay you well. This is not a
chance to be lost, I can tell you, and my advice to you is that you go."

The fisherman shook his head. No, he would not go; he had said he would
not, and he would not. But the wife only smiled and said again, "My
advice to you is that you go."

The fisherman grumbled and grumbled, and swore that he would not go. The