er if you would be rash enough to take a wife next," said Fred.
"Rash! I think it's the most sensible thing a fellow could do. Don't you ever intend to marry, Fred?"
"Not I," said the other, carelessly, "as I said before, liberty or death for me. Why, Gus, the tyranny of King George is nothing to that of a wife. Don't you know what the French poet Mauvause says:
'I would advise a man to pause Before he takes a wife, Indeed, I own, I see no cause He should not pause for life.'"
"He must have been a crusty old bachelor who wrote that," remarked Gus; "as for me, I intend to make fierce love to Nell the moment I land. 'Pon my honor, I'd give a diamond ring to see that flinty heart of yours lying at the feet of some graceful little Yankee--metaphorically speaking, of course. They say, Fred, the American ladies are all pretty!"
"I doubt it."
"You're a stoic, a cynic, an unbeliever--an old Diogenes in his tub. You deserve to die an old bachelor. It's my fir