And bein’ ketched at it, I sez, “The Mormon doctrine;” sez I, “to say nothin’ on moral and spiritual grounds, and state rights, it’s against reason and good sense.”
I felt mortified to think I had spoke out loud, but had to stand my ground after I had said it.
But they all said that the Mormon doctrine wuz the true belief, that it wuz writ in heaven, then it wuz engraved on plates, and dug up by Joe Smith, a Latter Day Saint.
Sez I, “If anybody trys to prove sunthin’ they want to, they can most always dig up sunthin’ to prove it. You say a man dug this plate up; what if some woman should go to diggin’ and find a plate provin’ that one woman ort to have ’leven husbands?”
“Oh, no!” sez the man in deep scorn, “no such plate could be found!”
The wimmen all looked as if they would kinder like to see such dishes, but they all sez faintly, “We don’t spoze that it could be found.”
“But,” I sez, “you don’t know how many plates there are in the ground, nor who’ll dig ’em up.”
“Oh, that idee is preposterous!” sez the man, as visions of dividin’ one woman’s heart into eleven parts and reignin’ over that little mossel riz up before him. “Men never would agree to that; there would be mutiny, internal bloodshed and sizm.”
“Well,” sez I, “mebby there is more or less internal heart bleedin’ goin’ on in the wimmen’s hearts that have to divide a man’s love and care a dozen times.” Sez I, “A hull man’s hull affections are onstiddy and wobblin’ and oncertain enough without dividin’ it up so many times.”