Mrs. G. I sh’d think yer did! Yer tho’t I was abaout sixteen, didn’t yer? (Opens the door at the back, and produces a very showy piece of dress goods, a shawl of a very loud pattern, and a bonnet trimmed with green and red and yellow) Look a’ that! What do you think o’ them things! Young enough for Mary, or Leafy Jane, either. I never wore such bright things when I was a gal; an’ I’m sure I ain’t a-gwine ter begin naow.
Capt. G. I don’t see why, Lorany! They ain’t no brighter than the marygoolds, pecuniaries (petunias), and dadyoluses, yer like so well, in the garden, or even the persalter roses.
Mrs. G. That’s a different thing. I ain’t a flower-garden; I do wish the men-folks ’d let their wives buy their own clo’es, or give ’em the money to buy ’em with. (Sits down and braids on her mat.)
Capt. G. Why, Lorany! the wimmen folks ain’t used to layin’ out money. We can make it spend a great deal better ’n they can.
Mrs. G. P’r’aps yer can; but we’d like what we bought ourselves a great deal better; I do wish they’d let us buy our own clo’es, I say, or give us the money to buy ’em with, so’s we could suit ourselves.
Capt. G. Wall, I snum, yer as bad as the lectur’-woman Pete Rosson told on. He said she said wimmen ortter have their own private pusses, same’s the men, and other things tew; and that the Legislater ort to see tew’t, but that they was tew busy,—trying to settle the size of a bar’l o’ cramberries, an’ talkin’ baout sellin’ eggs by weight, and sich things,—to care what becomes o’ wimmin’s rights. Sellin’ eggs by weight! what durned nonsense! Some on ’em would take twenty to make a paound, and some wouldn’t take mor’n eight, an’ where’d yer cookin’ go ter, I’d like ter know?
Mrs. G. Waal, Nathan, I don’t care nuthin’ abaout that! I shall put twelve eggs inter my old-fashioned paound cake, as the recipee sez, whether they’re big or little. But I do care about the caarf. I’d almost rather you’d ’a’ sold me!
Capt. G. Wall, I vum to vummy!
Mrs. G. You knew haow much I allus tho’t on her ’cause little Sally loved her so; an’ ’afore she died she’d be’n a-readin’ some o’ them old pictur’-books, an’ she said the caarf had eyes just like one on ’em in it, an’ so she named the caarf May Donna, or some sich name. (Wipes her eyes.)
Capt. G. Consarn it all! Lorany, don’t cry! There! There! I’ll pick up the money, Lorany, I’ll pick up the money. (Aside) I wonder if there is anything in them wimmin’s rights, after all! (Puts the money in his pocket. Sits in chair tipped back against the wall, and eats an apple, cutting it with his jack-knife.)