Binks nodded. “We could have speeches and a play, if anybody could write one, or maybe a mock trial, and then everybody could vote on the suffrage question. Women’s colleges are always voting on suffrage nowadays. They seem to like it.”
“That’s good, so far,” Georgia agreed approvingly. “Why not satirize a few other feminine fads while you’re in the business? I can think of a lovely parody on æsthetic dancing. My mother and sisters are going crazy about that.”
“We could have a fresh-air children’s chorus,” Binks added promptly. “I mean children brought up to go barefoot and sleep outdoors in winter and all that sort of foolishness.”
“With a special number about women that get up early and walk barefoot in the dewy grass,” put in Georgia eagerly.
“And we could have a home-beautiful monologue.”
“Never mind going any further, Binks,” Georgia told her firmly. “There is evidently no lack of material for an extra-special show entitled Jists and Suffragists.”
“Jists?” repeated Binks blankly.
“Jists—jests, jokes. Didn’t you ever hear of a merry jist, my peculiar young cousin from Boston?”
“Well, I have now,” said Binks imperturbably. “And it will be no merry jist at all if I’m not on hand at four to go walking with the Poetess. So I must rush home. You think the faculty and Miss Wales will be sure to approve, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure they will, but you’d better not assign the jist and suffragist parts to your little friends until you hear from me,” advised Georgia. “It’s considered good form not to be too sure in advance of faculty permits.”