This is part 10 of John Plowman's pictures by Charles Haddon Spurgeon. The first chapter today is he lives under the sign of the cat's foot. And there's a picture of a ferocious looking white cat holding a mouse in its right front claws. It's not the sort of cat you'd like to meet. And there's some hands lifting up. towards it, human hands obviously, and the motto underneath the picture is I'm your match I scratch. The question once asked, when should a man marry? And the merry answer was that for young men it is too soon, and for old men it is too late. This is all very fine, but it will not wash. Both the wisdom and the folly of men seemed banded together to make a mock of this doctrine. Men are such fools that they must and will marry even if they marry fools. It is wise to marry when we can marry wisely, and then the sooner the better. How many show their sense in choosing a partner, it is not for me to say, but I fear that in many cases love is blind and makes a very blind choice. I don't suppose that some people would ever get married at all if love had its wits about it. It is a mystery how certain parties ever found partners. Truly, there's no accounting for tastes. However, as they make their bed, they must lie on it. And as they tie the knot, they must be tied by it. If a man catches a tartar or lets a tartar catch him, he must take his dose of tartaric acid and make as few ugly faces as he can. If a three-legged stool come flying through the air, he must be thankful for such a plain token of love from the woman of his choice, and the best thing he can do is sit down on it and wait for the next little article. When it is said of a man, he lives under the sign of the cat's foot, he must..." That's not a phrase I've ever come across before, must have been common in Spurgeons Day. He must try and please his pussy that she may not scratch him more than such cats generally do. A good husband will generally have a good wife, or make a bad wife better. Bad Jack makes a great noise about bad Jill, but there's generally 20 of one where there's a score of the other. They say a burden of one's own choosing is never felt to be heavy, but I don't know some men are loaded with mischief as soon as they have a wife to carry. Yet a good woman is worth, if she were sold, the fairest crown that's made of gold. She is a pleasure, a treasure, and a joy without measure. A good wife and health are a man's best wealth, and he who is in such a case should envy no man's place. Even when a woman is a little tart, it is better than if she had no spirit and made her house into a dirt pie. A shrew is better than a slut, though one can be quite miserable enough with either. If she is a good housewife and looks well after the children, one may put up with a caudal lecture now and then. Though a cordial lecture would be a deal better. A husband is in a pickle indeed if he gets tied up to a regular scold. He might as well be skinned and set up to his neck in a tub of brine. This is strong language from Spurgeon. Did you ever hear the scold song? Read it you young folks who think of committing matrimony and think twice before you get married once. When in the morn I open mine eyes to entertain the day, before my husband Ian can rise, I scold him, then I pray. When I at table take my place, what e'er be the meat, I first do scold. and then say grace if so disposed to eat. Too fat, too lean, too hot, too cold, I always do complain. Too raw, too roast, too young, too old, faults I will find or feign. Let it be flesh or fowl or fish, it never shall be said, but I'll find fault with meat or dish, with master or with maid. But when I go to bed at night, I heartily do weep that I must part with my delight. I cannot scold and sleep. However, this doth mitigate and much abate my sorrow that though tonight it be too late, I'll early scold tomorrow. When the husband is not a man, it is not to be wondered at if the wife wears the top boots. The mare may well be the best horse when the other horse is a donkey. Well may a woman feel that she is lord and master when she has to earn the living for the family, as is sometimes the case. She ought not to be the head, but if she has all the brains, what is she to do? What poor dawdles many men would be without their wives. As poor Softley Simpkins says, if Bill's wife becomes a widow who will cut the pudding up for him, and will there be a pudding at all? It is grand when the wife knows her place and keeps it, and they both pull together in everything. Then she is a helpmate indeed, and makes the house a home. Old friend Tusser says, when husband is absent, let housewife be chief, and look to their labour who live from their sheaf. the housewife's so named for she keepeth the house and must tend to her profit as a cat on a mouse. He is very pat upon it that much of household affairs must rest on the wife and he writes both out not allow keep home housewife thou. I'm sure this will generate discussion. Like the old man and woman in the toy which shows the weather, one must be sure to be in if the other goes out. When the king is abroad, the queen must reign at home, and when he returns to his throne, he is bound to look upon her as his crown and prize her above gold and jewels. He should feel if there's only one good wife in the whole world, I've got her. John Plowman has long thought just that of his own wife, and after five and twenty years he is more sure of it than ever. He never bets, but he would not mind wagering a farthing cake that there is not a better woman on the surface of the globe than his own very own beloved. Happy is the man who is happy in his wife. Let him love her as he loves himself, and a little better, for she is his better half. Thank God that hath so blessed thee, and sit down, John, and rest thee. There is one case in which I don't wonder if the wife does put her mate under the cat's foot, and that is when he slinks off to the public and wastes his wages. Even then, love and gentleness is the best way of getting him home. But really, some topers have no feeling and laugh at kindness, and therefore nobody can be surprised if the poor wife bristles up and gives her lord and master a taste of tongue. Nothing tries married love more than the pothouse. Wages wasted, wife neglected, children in rags. If she gives it him hot and strong, who can blame her? Pitch into him, good woman, and make him ashamed of himself if you can. No wonder that you lead a cat and dog life while he is such a sorry dog. Still, you may well go home and set him a better example, for two blacks will never make a white. And if you put him in hot water, he's sure to get some spirits to mix with it. So there's a second picture here and it's a picture, it looks like this is the Cat's Foot pub and it says good stout ales and there's a man cowering in front of a woman here, he's wearing a bowler hat and a coat and carrying a jug and they're in the street and she is dressed in a dress with an apron on and she is muscular and she is about to punch him for going into the pub. Now the next chapter today is he would put his finger in the pie and so he burned his nail off. There's a picture of a domestic scene here with A man sitting at table and there's a big pie in front of him and he's looking down at his right index finger. He's smartly dressed, he's looking down at his right index finger. He looks very sorrowful, like he's in pain. And I think I can see smoke coming off his finger. There's a maid leaning over the table, pointing her finger at him and scolding him for putting his finger in the pie, no doubt. Some men must have a finger in every pie, or as the proverb hath it, their oar must be in every man's boat. They seem to have no business except to poke their noses into other people's business. They ought to have snubbed noses, for they are pretty sure to be snubbed. Prying and spying, peddling and meddling, these folks are in everybody's way like the old toll gate. They come without being sent for, stop without being asked, and cannot be got rid of unless you take them by the left leg and throw them down the stairs. And if you do, they will limp up again and hope they don't intrude. No one pays them, and yet they give advice more often than any lawyer. And though no one ever thanks them, yet there they are, peeping through keyholes and listening under the eaves. they are as great at asking questions as if they wanted you to say the catechism and as eager to give their opinion as if you had gone down on your knees to ask it. These folks are like dogs that fetch and carry. They run all over the place like starlings when they are feeding their young. They make much ado, but never do much unless it is mischief, and at this they are as apt as jackdaws. If any man has such people for his acquaintances, he may well say, save me from my friends. I know your assistance you'll lend. When I want it, I'll speedily send. You need not be making such stir, but mind your own business, good sir. It is of no more use than if we spoke to the pigs, for here is Paul Pry again. Paul and his cousins are most offensive people, but you cannot offend them if you try. Well do I remember the words of a wise old Quaker. John said he, be not concerned with that which concerns not thee. This taught me a lesson, and I made up my mind not to scrub other people's pigs, for fear I should soon want scrubbing myself. There is a woman in our village who finds fault with all, and all find fault with her. They say her teeth are all loose, through her tongue rubbing against them. If she could but hold her tongue, she would be happy enough, and that's the difficulty. When hens fall a-cackling, take heed to the nest. When drabs fall a-whispering, farewell to thy rest. Will Shepard was sitting very quiet while others were running down their neighbours. At last a loose fellow sung out, look at old Will, he is as silent as a stockfish. Is it because he is wise or because he is a fool? Well said Will, you may settle that question how you like, but I have been told that a fool cannot be silent. Will is set down as very odd, but he is generally even with them before he has done. One thing is sure, he cares very little what they do say, so long as they don't worry his sheep. He hummed in my ear an old-fashioned verse or two the other evening something like this. Since folks will judge me every day, let every man his judgment say, I will take it all as children's play, for I am as I am, whoever say nay. Many there be that take delight to judge a man's ways in envy and spite, but whether they judge me wrong or right, I am as I am, and so do I write. How the truth is, I leave to you. Judge as ye list, whether false or true. Ye know no more than before ye knew. For I am as I am, whatever ensue. If folks will meddle with our business, it is best to take no notice of them. There's no putting them out like letting them stop where they are. They are never so offended as when people neither offend them nor take offence at them. You might as soon stop all the frogs from croaking as quite idle gossips when they once get on the chat. Stuff your ear with wool and let them jabber till their tongue lies still, because they have worn all the skin off it. off of it. Where no wood is, the fire goeth out, and if you don't answer them, they can't make a blaze for one to fuel. Treat them kindly, but don't give them the treat of quarrelling with them. Follow peace with all men, even if you cannot overtake it." Good advice, thank you Spurgeon.