Poor F----, notwithstanding the sobering effects of matrimony, continued always the most absent man in the world; and one instance occurred, some fifteen or sixteen years after his marriage, which his wife used to tell with great glee. She was a very notable woman, and good housekeeper. Originally a Presbyterian, she had conformed to the views of her husband, and regularly frequented the Episcopal church. One Sunday, just before the carriage came to the door to take her and her husband to the morning service, she went down to the kitchen, as was her custom, in mercantile parlance, to take stock, and give her orders. She happened to be somewhat longer than usual: the carriage was announced, and poor F----, probably knowing that if he gave himself a moment to pause, he should forget himself, and his wife, and the church, and all other holy and venerable things, went down after her, with the usual, "My dear, the carriage is waiting; we shall be very late." Mrs. F---- went through her orders with customary precision, took up her prayer-book, entered the carriage with her husband, and rolled away toward the church. "My dear, what an extraordinary smell of bacon there is in the carriage," said Mr. F----. "I do not smell it, my dear," said Mrs. F----. "I do," said Mr. F----, expanding his nostrils emphatically. "I think I smell it too, now," said Mrs. F----, taking a sniff. "Well, I hope those untidy servants of ours do not smoke bacon in the carriage," said Mr. F----. "Oh, dear, no," replied his wife, with a hearty laugh. "No fear of that, my dear." Shortly after, the carriage stopped at the church door; and Mr. and Mrs. F---- mounted the stairs to their pew, which was in the gallery, and conspicuous to the whole congregation. The lady seated herself, and laid her prayer-book on the velvet cushion before her. Mr. F---- put his hand into his pocket, in search of his own prayer-book, and pulled out a long parallelogram, which was not a prayer-book, but which he laid on the cushion likewise. "I don't wonder there was a smell of bacon in the carriage, my dear," whispered Mrs. F----; and, to his horror, he perceived lying before him, in the eyes of a thousand persons, a very fine piece of red-and-white streaky bacon, which he had taken up in the kitchen, thinking it was his prayer-book.