“And why did you say that I had come up in a good minute?”
“Because, Mister Honey, when a woman has two men to choose from she doesn’t know what to do, for two men always become like brothers so that you wouldn’t know which of them was which: there isn’t any more difference between two men than there is between a couple of hares. But when there’s three men to choose from, there’s no trouble at all; and so I say that it’s yourself I’ll marry this night and no one else—and let you two men be sitting quiet in your places, for I’m telling you what I’ll do and that’s the end of it.”
“I’ll give you my word,” said the first man, “that I’m just as glad as you are to have it over and done with.”
“Moidered I was,” said the second man, “with the whole argument, and the this and that of it, and you not able to say a word but—maybe I will and maybe I won’t, and this is true and that is true, and why not to me and why not to him—I’ll get a sleep this night.”
The Philosopher was perplexed.
“You cannot marry me, ma’am,” said he, “because I’m married already.”
The woman turned round on him angrily.
“Don’t be making any argument with me now,” said she, “for I won’t stand it.”
The first man looked fiercely at the Philosopher, and then motioned to his companion.
“Give that man a clout in the jaw,” said he.