“And why should you be doing the likes of that?” said Padna.
“Well,” said Micus, “when they’re all counted, I’ll know more than before and be as famous as the King of Spain himself.”
“You might as well be trying to count all the blades of grass from Dunkirk to Belgrade, but you’d be dead and forgotten long before you’d have as much as the ten thousandth part of half of them counted,” said Padna.
“What do you know about counting pebbles or the red skeeories that does be on the white thorn-bushes in the month of August?” said Micus.
“As much as any sensible man wants to know,” said Padna. “If you want to be really foolish, you ought to leave the pebbles alone, and start counting all the grains of sand in the world.”
“I’ll count the pebbles first,” said Micus.
“’Tis only vanity that makes a man do what every one else is too sensible to do,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be foolish itself and get married than to be so vain that you don’t know you’re foolish.”
“And why should I get married?” said Micus.
“Well,” said Padna, “a man’s wife is always a great comfort to him when he wants to get fed, when he’s sick in bed and requires nursing, or when he’s too well off and suffers from discontent. Besides, ’tis a great thing to have a wife to quarrel with when you’re afraid of quarreling with any one else.”
“And why should I quarrel with my wife without reason if I had one?”