he had a very
nice fire lit. A pot of water was put on to boil, and the woman cut up a
great lump of bacon which she put into the pot. She had eight eggs in
a place in the cart, and a flat loaf of bread, and some cold boiled
potatoes, and she spread her apron on the ground and arranged these
things on it.

The other man came down the road again with his big bottle filled with
porter, and he put this in a safe place. Then they emptied everything
out of the cart and hoisted it over the little wall. They turned the
cart on one side and pulled it near to the fire, and they all sat inside
the cart and ate their supper. When supper was done they lit their
pipes, and the woman lit a pipe also. The bottle of porter was brought
forward, and they took drinks in turn out of the bottle, and smoked
their pipes, and talked.

There was no moon that night, and no stars, so that just beyond the fire
there was a thick darkness which one would not like to look at, it was
so cold and empty. While talking they all kept their eyes fixed on the
red fire, or watched the smoke from their pipes drifting and curling
away against the blackness, and disappearing as suddenly as lightning.

"I wonder," said the first man, "what it was gave you the idea of
marrying this man instead of myself or my comrade, for we are young,
hardy men, and he is getting old, God help him!"

"Aye, indeed," said the second man; "he's as grey as a badger, and
there's no flesh on his bones."

"You have a right to ask that," said she, "and I'll tell you why I
didn't marry either of you. You are only a pair of tinkers going from
one place to another, and not knowing anything at all of fine things;
but himself was walking along the road looking for strange, high
adventures, and it's a man like that a woman would be wishing to marry
if he was twice as old as he is. When did either of you go out in the
daylight looking for a god and you not caring what might happen to you
or where you went?"

"What I'm thinking," said the second man, "is that if you leave the gods
alone they'll leave you alone. It's no trouble to them to do whatever is
right themselves, and what call would men like us have to go mixing or
meddling with their high affairs?"

"I thought all along that you were a timid man," said she, "and now I
know it." She turned again to the Philosopher--"Take off your boots,
Mister Honey, the way you'll rest easy, and I'll be making down a soft
bed for you in the ca