It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. I thought Mr. . Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him.
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