n and then rings off as though the matter were settled.
The question of who's going to have the whip hand in love or matrimony
is decided the very first time a man looks at a woman and lets her know
who's master."

The bachelor flicked the ashes off his cigar and regarded the widow
curiously.

"Are you talking Christian Science or Hypnotism?" he inquired patiently.

"Neither," replied the widow, "I'm talking facts, Mr. Travers. Haven't
you ever seen a little short-legged man with a snub nose married to a
beautiful, queenly creature, whom he ordered about as if she were the
original Greek slave and who obeyed him as if he were Nero himself, and
adored him in proportion to his overbearing qualities? And have you
never seen a magnificent, six-foot-two specimen of masculine humanity,
who was first in war and first everywhere but in his own home, where he
was afraid to put his feet on a chair or light a pipe or make an
original remark, because some little dried-up runt of a woman had him
hypnotized into believing that he was the thirty-second vertebrae and she
all the rest of the bones and sinew of the human race? A woman is like a
darky, who fancies that 'freedom' means three-quarters of the sidewalk,
or a small boy who imagines that doing as he pleases means smashing his
sister's toys and stealing sweets from the pantry. Put her in her place
and she will stay there; but give her an inch of power and she'll take
an ell of liberty and boss you off your own door sill. The biggest,
boldest woman that ever lived is built like a barge, to be towed; and
any little man who puffs up enough steam and makes a loud enough noise
can attach her to himself and tow her all the way up the river of life."

The bachelor laid down his cigar and gazed at the widow in awe.

"And I never knew it," he whispered huskily.

"I suppose," said the widow, beginning to toy with the fringe again,
"that you've been asking girls to kiss you, all this time."

"Not _all_ the time," protested the bachelor.

"And, of course," continued the widow maliciously, "they've all refused
you."

"Not _all_," repeated the bachelor, pensively.

"What?" The widow glanced up quickly.

"Once," explained the bachelor apologetically, "I didn't have a bald
spot."

"When a man asks for a kiss," pursued the widow, thoughtfully, "a girl
HAS to refuse him; but when he takes it----"

"She has to take it, too," said the bachelor, chuckling.

"Would you mind," asked t