Man, oh man, thou art worse than a mouse!

I questioned him no further, but asked him to sing something, a ballad or
a song, since we had nothing else to do.

"I've no heart to sing now," he replied. "Except possibly a hymn."

"All right; sing a hymn, then."

"Not now. I'd like to do you a favor, but--"

His uneasiness was rising. A little later he took his sack and went out.

"Well, he's gone," I thought, "but he hasn't said the customary
peace-be-with-you. I'm glad I've come into the forest," I thought. "This
is my home, and from this day forth, no mother's son shall come within my
walls again."

I made an elaborate agreement with myself that I should have no more truck
with men.

"Madame, come here," I said. "I esteem you highly, and herewith, Madame, I
undertake to enter upon a union with you for life!"

Half an hour later, the man returned. He carried no sack.

"I thought you'd gone," I said.

"Gone? I'm not a dog," he replied. "I've met people before this, and I say
good morning when I come and peace-be-with-you when I go. You shouldn't