An Unprecedented Proposal
"Well, why shouldn't we change it?" asked Mrs. Bateman, as she scooped out the grape-fruit that formed the first course at the P. W.'s regular monthly luncheon.
"Change it? Change what?—How?" asked several voices at once.
"The state of affairs in this city," pursued Mrs. Bateman calmly. "I have been thinking things over since I got home this fall. Everybody agrees that our little city is going to the dogs; that municipal affairs were never so muddled as now. And now, here is Barnaby Burke running for mayor, with a ravenous pack of demagogues behind him."
"Yes, and not a decent man to run against him," added Cornelia Jewett.
"I don't see why," began the fluffy little woman in light blue, "I don't see why no genuine, honest, upright gentleman will allow his name to be used. Rudolph says it has got so that nobody but a politician will consent to be mayor of Roma."
"They're all afraid of the demagogues," put in another. "There's Albert Turner; he ought to stand as a candidate. But I suppose he wouldn't?" She turned to a large fair lady across the table who was placidly consuming her soup.
"My husband isn't interested in politics," was the reply. "His business affairs are too pressing."
"That's the trouble with most of the men," commented another. "They are too much absorbed in their own affairs to care much what happens to the community. We need a little more of the socialistic spirit."
"Oh, dreadful!" muttered another. "We shall be preaching anarchy next."
"And Granville Mason—or Geoffrey Bateman," added the fluffy lady in blue.
"My husband said last night that politics had sunk to such a pass in this town that no decent man would touch the City Hall with a pair of tongs," said Mrs. Mason. "That's the answer he gave a couple of men who came from Headquarters to ask him to stand. And he said that whatever decent man accepted the nomination was sure to be defeated. He doesn't care to be the figure-head of Defeat."
"That's the way they all feel," said Gertrude Van Deusen. "I wish I were a man. I'd run for mayor! I wouldn't let the figure of Defeat worry me. I'd make a fight, I would, and we'd see if the demagogues had everything their own way."
"Why not run, then?" asked Mrs. Bateman, smiling across the table.
"I'd get every decent man roused up, for once," said Gertrude, enthusiastically, "I'd go into every ward and organize—as they do. I'd work among the poor, the illiterate, the unfortunate; and I'd rouse the rich and educated, too. That's the class that need awakening in this town."
"Then you're the right candidate," said Mrs. Bateman. "Why don't you take it? Really, now, why not?"
"O, Mrs. Bateman, I was only imagining a case." Miss Van Deusen was blushing and confused now. "Of course I couldn't run for office, not really."
"Why not?" asked the elder woman in the calm, judicial way which made her a leader among women. "Why not? The town is going to the dogs—or rather, to the demagogues. We need a complete revolution in Roma. We women have the vote in this state; why not take matters into our own hands? Why not have a woman for mayor?"
"O-o-oh!" gasped several of her hearers in the slight pause.
"Think of the field of activities that would open up before a good woman," she went on. "The condition of our paupers, of our children's institutions, of our schools. Think of the intemperance and the vagrancy and the immorality that flourish under our very noses. Yes, and the machine-politics that keep them flourishing. Oh, there is so much to be done, and our good men too busy, or—as they claim—too high-minded to meddle with it."
"Then what would, what could a decent woman do with it?" demanded Mrs. Jewett.
"Walk through it like an angel of light," answered Mrs. Bateman. "Ladies, we as the 'Progressive Workers' have labored ten years to effect reforms in this town, to further the interests of the schools, the poor, the dependent. What have we accomplished?"
"Why, why, a little," replied Mrs. Jewett. "Enough to have made our names respected and—yes, a little to be feared."
"But not enough," resumed Mrs. Bateman. "Not so much as we ought to have done. Not so much as we might have done had the City Council been with, instead of against us, or at best, merely tolerant of us. Now here is our opportunity. The lower element has put up a man, notoriously bad and unfit, to be mayor. The better side is all at sea. Our old mayor (weak enough, but infinitely better than Barnaby Burke) is ill with an incurable disease, and no one whose name inspires the least particle of confidence has been mentioned yet to take his place. Let us put up a good, whole-souled, fearless woman and get her elected."
"Impossible!" said Mrs. Jewett.
"We can do it," said the fluffy woman in blue. "My husband would help us; I know he would."
"But who?" asked Mrs. Mason. "Where could we find the woman?"
"Right here in our ranks," said Mrs. Bateman. "One of our own members. Gertrude, you're just the woman for us."
Miss Van Deusen did not answer. Only the quick flush showed how the possibilities of the moment found echo in the consternation at her heart.
"You are independent both by nature and by inheritance. You represent the best element of our citizens, you have means and time, you are bound by no family ties, and you have the kind of courage for the position," urged Mrs. Bateman.
"What will the men say?" reflected Mrs. Jewett.
"It'll give 'em a shock," murmured Mrs. Mason, decidedly. "They need a shock. Yes, Gertrude, you are just the woman to try it,—to try for it, I mean. We'll all work for you,—and with you."
"Now, ladies, let us look the situation squarely in the face," said Mrs. Bateman. "I've lain awake many a night of late, thinking out things. It will mean a tremendous amount of hard and systematic work to elect a woman to the mayor's chair in Roma. But if we are thoroughly organized and can get some of the men's leagues and clubs to endorse us, I believe we can win. Think of it seriously a few minutes, and let us keep silence for a little while."
Then ensued the strange spectacle of fifteen women sitting at luncheon—speechless. It was a custom they had, whenever an important subject came up for discussion, to take ten or fifteen minutes for silent thought instead of wasting that time in discussion that did not get anywhere; so that when the moment for talking arrived the club-members, being accustomed to exert their mental powers, were prepared to advance and weigh such arguments as might be brought forth.
"Gertrude," said Mrs. Bateman at last, "you haven't spoken yet. You see your civic duty?"
"It will call for an appalling amount of courage and self-reliance and belief in the ideals of good government," began Gertrude—and stopped. Her voice thrilled with a new emotion and her fine eyes glowed with prophetic hopefulness.
"But the best people would be all with you," put in a young woman at the other end of the table.
"Would they, I wonder?" queried Miss Van Deusen. "From the time of the Nazarene down to today, some of the best people have found it inexpedient to stand by the right when it was presented in strange or new guise; and surely this would be a novel innovation—a woman for mayor."
"But you have courage enough," urged Mrs. Mason.
"If there was ever a woman with ideals," said Mary Snow, a newspaper woman who had not yet spoken, "her name was—is Gertrude Van Deusen."
"Friends," said Miss Van Deusen, "I'm going to stick to my guns. I said in my haste that I'd never let the figure-head of Defeat worry or scare me; that I would put up a fight. Well, I'll make the fight, I'll stand for the nomination and if I get it, for election."
"Three cheers for Gertrude Van Deusen," cried Mrs. Mason, and a vigorous round of hand-claps was her answer. Handkerchiefs were waved and there was excitement among the P. W.'s.
"My husband has just got to take the stump for you," said the fluffy woman. "I'll make him."
"Thank you, Bella," was Miss Van Deusen's reply. "I suppose I shall be emblazoned and lauded and berated in the newspapers, and shall come out at the end of the campaign with scarcely a rag of reputation left, whether I win or lose."
"You are going to win, Gertrude," said Mrs. Bateman calmly.
"Yes, I'm going to win," answered the younger woman. And as she sat with her handsome head thrown hack and her far-seeing gaze looking out and past the assembled women into the stormy future, not one of them doubted, at the moment, the truth of her confident prophecy.