und baby in his arms, for
five minutes, he's going to carry on as if it weighed a ton.

A girl can usually catch a whisper to the effect that she's the showiest
goods on the shelf, but the vital thing for a fellow to know is whether
her ears are sharp enough to hear him when he shouts that she's spending
too much money and that she must reduce expenses. Of course, when you're
patting and petting and feeding a woman she's going to purr, but there's
nothing like stirring her up a little now and then to see if she spits
fire and heaves things when she's mad.

I want to say right here that there's only one thing more aggravating in
this world than a woman who gets noisy when she's mad, and that's one
who gets quiet. The first breaks her spell of temper with the crockery,
but the second simmers along like a freight engine on the track beside
your berth--keeps you scared and ready to jump for fear she's going to
blow off any minute; but she never does and gets it over with--just
drizzles it out.

You can punch your brother when he plays the martyr, but you've got to
love your wife. A violent woman drives a fellow to drink, but a nagging
one drives him crazy. She takes his faults and ties them to him like a
tin can to a yellow dog's tail, and the harder he runs to get away from
them the more he hears of them.

I simply mention these things in a general way, and in the spirit of the
preacher at the funeral of the man who wasn't "a professor"--because
it's customary to make a few appropriate remarks on these occasions.
From what I saw of Helen Heath, I reckon she's not getting any the best
of it. She's what I call a mighty eligible young woman--pretty, bright,
sensible, and without any fortune to make her foolish and you a fool. In
fact, you'd have to sit up nights to make yourself good enough for her,
even if you brought her a million, instead of fifty a week.

I'm a great believer in women in the home, but I don't take much stock
in them in the office, though I reckon I'm prejudiced and they've come
to stay. I never do business with a woman that I don't think of a little
incident which happened when I was first married to your Ma. We set up
housekeeping in one of those cottages that you read about in the story
books, but that you want to shy away from, when it's put up to you to
live in one of them. There were nice climbing roses on the front porch,
but no running water in the kitchen; there were a-plenty of old fashioned