The Broad Highway

"Why, then, do you know how true happiness may be found?' "To be sure I du, Peter."

"How?"

"By marriage, Peter, an' 'ard work!--an' they allus goes

together."

"Marriage!" said I.

"Marriage as ever was, Peter."

"There I don't agree with you," said I.

"That," retorted the Ancient, stabbing at me with his pipe-stem,

"that's because you never was married, Peter."

"Marriage!" said I; "marriage brings care, and great

responsibility, and trouble for one's self means trouble for

others."

"What o' that?" exclaimed the Ancient. "'Tis care and 'sponsibility

as mak' the man, an' if you marry a good wife she'll share the

burden wi' ye, an' ye'll find what seemed your troubles is a blessin'

arter all. When sorrer comes, 'tis a sweet thing--oh! a very sweet

thing--to 'ave a woman to comfort ye an' 'old your 'and in the dark

hour--an' theer's no sympathy so tender as a woman's, Peter. Then,

when ye be old, like me, an' full o' years 'tis a fine thing to 'ave

a son o' your own--like Simon an' a granddarter--like my Prue--'tis

worth 'aving lived for, Peter, ay, well worth it. It's a man's

dooty to marry, Peter, 'is dooty to 'isself an' the world. Don't

the Bible say summat about it not bein' good for a man to live

alone? Every man as is a man should marry the sooner the better."

"But," said I, "to every happy marriage there are scores of

miserable ones."

"'Cause why, Peter? 'Cause people is in too much o' a hurry to

marry, as a rule. If a man marries a lass arter knowin' 'er a

week--'ow is 'e goin' to know if she'll suit 'im all 'is days?

Nohow, Peter, it aren't natral--woman tak's a lot o' knowin'.

'Marry in 'aste, an' repent in leisure!' That aren't in the

Bible, but it ought to be."

"And your own marriage was a truly happy one, Ancient?"

"Ah! that it were, Peter, 'appy as ever was--but then, ye see,

there was a Providence in it. I were a fine young chap in them

days, summat o' your figure only bigger--ah! a sight bigger--an'

I were sweet on several lassies, an' won't say as they wer'n't

sweet on me--three on 'em most especially so. One was a tall,

bouncin' wench wi' blue eyes, an' golden 'air--like sunshine it

were, but it wer'n't meant as I should buckle up wi' 'er."