Tom hastened to acquiesce.
"You remember in the Book of Job? Three things are wonderful to me, The way of a ship on the sea, the way of an eagle in the air, and the way of a man with a maid."
"Ay, ay, sir," said Tom, "the way of a ship on the sea—but the way of a man with a maid—"
"What's the matter with that, Tom?"
"They're all very pretty—just like the boat; but you'll not find one near so true. We're better without them, if you ask my advice. A man's all right as long as he keeps on his boat; but the minute he lands—the girls and the troubles begin."
"Ah! Tom," I said; "but I think you told me you've a family—"
"Yes, sar, but the only good one amongst them is in the churchyard, this fifteen years."
"Your wife, Tom?"
"Yes, sar, but she was more than a woman. She was a saint. When I talk of women I don't think of her. No; God be kind to her, she is a saint, and I only wait around till she calls me."
"Tom, allow me to shake hands with you," I said, "and call myself your friend for ever."