How fortunate that he should give us, inadvertently as it were, the information so necessary to the unlucky young men of this later day, the best place to go shopping for wives! No man after reading the above need say "he doesn't marry because he cannot, as no one will have him." He need not stop for that hereafter, but just go to London, pick out one to suit, pay the price, and bag the article. It can all be done in a day, and save time wonderfully. He bought his wife--a cheap one undoubtedly--and gave his promise to pay; then started homeward, feeling his importance as a married man, and chuckling over the idea of the astonishment and dismay of the rats and mice when he should set his wife after them, and thereby deprive them of their daily rations. But while musing thus, he discovers his wile shows signs of fatigue, as "The roads were bad, and the lanes were narrow," and not wishing to have her exhausted before commencing business, he gallantly determined to give her a ride, well knowing she would need all her strength for the battle he intended she should win. So borrowing a wheelbarrow of a trusting neighbor, he seated her therein, and amid great rejoicing at his extraordinary "luck" he set forward. But now comes the sad part of the story: "The wheelbarrow broke--my wife had a fall." And what a fall was there, my countrymen! Words are inadequate. The scene was indescribable, and we leave a blank that each may picture it to suit themselves. After the excitement occasioned by the catastrophe was somewhat abated, he picked up the pieces and tried to put the wheelbarrow together again. But it was too far gone; it was un-put-togetherable, and so he, more in sorrow than anger, stood gazing at the wreck, while his wife, being a woman, could not resist the impulse to cry exultingly, "I told you so; I knew it." That on top of all the rest of his trouble was a little too much; and after fumbling over the pieces a while, "I told you so" ringing in his ears, he completely lost his temper, and vented his passion in the words:-- "The deuce take the wheelbarrow."-- and then in a low voice, cautiously turning his head aside, he added:-- "My wife and all." Together they trudged homeward. Fearful misgivings as to the wisdom of his step came swooping down upon him, and he almost wished he had not tried to mend matters, but had patiently borne with the rats, when suddenly--the vision of a _cat_ swept athwart his mind, and he groaned aloud in bitterness of spirit. Not even the ever after clean hearth-stone, with the dead bodies of his enemies, the rats, piled thereon, could make him forget that one moment of agonizing consciousness, when he realized for the first time that he had burdened himself with a wife when a cat would have answered as well. * * * * * HURLY-BURLY.