The secretary sat down; the lady president arose. "This is a very spirited as well as elegant resolve," said she, "and cannot fail of securing universal approbation. Mrs. Secretary, you will please read the remaining portion, and then all can be adopted by one joint action of the house."
"There are but two brief ones to follow," said the secretary, again coming forward.
"First, Resolved, That the tortuous channel of Wimbledon river be made straight, and the tyrant man be compelled to perform the labor with three-inch augers and pap-spoons.
"Secondly, Resolved, That, the steeple of this church, which looms so boldly impious toward the sky, be felled to the ground, and be converted into a liberty-pole, with the cast-off petticoats of the enfranchised women of Wimbledon flaunting proudly from its summit, as an emblem of the downfall of man's bigotry and despotism, and the triumphant elevation of woman to her proper sphere among the rulers of the earth."
Great sensation as the lady secretary pronounced the foregoing resolves, with strong impressiveness of tone and manner. As she retired, Dea. Allen rose. The lady president sprang from her seat.
"Sit down!" shrieked she, bringing her foot to the platform with a violence that caused it to tremble. But the deacon did not drop at this sharp command, as Mr. Mumbles had done.
"I thought you held to liberty and equal rights," said he, with an air of some boldness.
"I do,—and therefore I tell you to sit down."
"I will speak," said he, returning the defiant looks cast upon him by both president and secretary; "for religion and right demand it. If you dare profane with your sacrilegious hands the holy steeple of this house of God, avenging justice will fall with crushing weight upon your guilty heads."
Having delivered himself of this dread prediction, the deacon sat down.