'We men 'ave seen it 'appen over and over. But the women can tyke an 'int quicker 'n what we can. They won't stand the nonsense men do. Only they 'aven't got a fair chawnce even to agitate fur their rights. As I wus comin' up ere, I 'eard a man sayin', "Look at this big crowd. W'y, we're all men! If the women want the vote, w'y ain't they here to s'y [so?"] Well, I'll tell you w'y. It's because they've 'ad to get the dinner fur you and me, and now they're washin' up dishes.'
'D'you think we ought to st'y at 'ome and wash the dishes?'
He laughed with good-natured shrewdness. 'Well, if they'd leave it to us once or twice per'aps we'd understand a little more about the Woman Question. I know w'y my wife isn't here. It's because she knows I can't cook, and she's 'opin' I can talk to some purpose. Yuss,'—he acknowledged another possible view,—'yuss, maybe she's mistaken. Any'ow, here I am to vote for her and all the other women, and to——'
They nearly drowned him with 'Oh-h!' and 'Hear! hear!'
'And to tell you men what improvements you can expect to see w'en women 'as the share in public affairs they ought to 'ave!'
Out of the babel came the question, 'What do you know about it? You can't even talk grammar.'
His broad smile faltered a little.
'Oh, what shame!' said Jean, full of sympathy. 'He's a dear—that funny cockney.'
But he had been dashed for the merest moment.
'I'm not 'ere to talk grammar, but to talk Reform. I ain't defendin' my grammar,' he said, on second thoughts, 'but I'll say in pawssing that if my mother 'ad 'ad 'er rights, maybe my grammar would 'ave been better.'