But Lord bless you, Sir, what's the use of a
hat in the woods, where there is no one to see you?"
Poor fellow, he didn't know what a touch of human nature there was in
that expression, "what's the use of a hat in the woods, where there is
no one to see you?"
The same idea, though differently expressed, occurs to so many. "Yes,"
said I to myself, "put on your hat for your wife's sake, and your own
too; for though you may fail to get a stroke of the sun, you may get
not an inflammation of the brain, for there ain't enough of it for
that complaint to feed on, but rheumatism in the head; and that will
cause a plaguey sight more pain than the dragoon's helmet ever did, by
a long chalk."
But, to get back to my story, for the way I travel through a tale is
like the way a child goes to school. He leaves the path to chase a
butterfly, or to pick wild strawberries, or to run after his hat that
has blown off, or to take a shy at a bird, or throw off his shoes,
roll up his trousers, and wade about the edge of a pond to catch
polly-wogs; but he gets to school in the eend, though somewhat of the
latest, so I have got back at last, you see.
Mother used to say, "Sam, your head is always a woolgathering."
"I am glad of it," says I, "marm."
"Why, Sam," she'd say, "why, what on earth do you mean?"
"Because, marm," I'd reply, "a head that's alway a gathering will get
well stored at last.
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