“Her husband is a good man, and thinks enough of her; but he is deep learnt and absent-minded, and needs headin’ off. And when he is walkin’ by himself through the shady lanes and crooked pathways of the docterines and creeds, and so on, and so 4th; when he is tryin’ to stand up straight with one foot on Genesis, and the other on geoligy, tryin’ his best to break a path through the wilderniss of beliefs a road that shall lead his hearers straight to heaven’s gate; with all this on his hands, how can he be expected to keep his eye every minute on the little woman by his side. How can he, when he is absent-minded, and needs headin’ off, how can he be expected to know whether the meetin’ house is a carryin’ her, or she is a carryin’ the meetin’ house.” Says I, “Serepta Simmons is a Christian woman, and if she has time to spare after taken’ care of them that Providence has placed in her keepin’, she would be willin’ to do what she could for other heathen nations, and tribes; it would be her duty and her priviledge.
“But,” says I, “because Serepta’s husband is hired out to you for 200 and 50 dollars a year, you have no more right to control Serepta’s actions, and time, than you have to order round that old stun female that keeps house by herself out in Egypt by the pyramids. I can’t think of her name, but howsumever it haint no matter; I wish Serepta had some of her traits, a good firm stun disposition, that couldn’t be coaxed nor skairt into bearin’ burdens enough to break down seven wimmen. I’d love to see you order old what’s-her-name round; I’d love to see you make her do all the housework and sewin’ for a big family, head off a deep learnt, absent-minded husband, take care of five infant childern, and carry round a meetin’ house. She’s kep’ a stiddy head on her shoulders and minded her own business for centuries, and so is a pattern for some other wimmen I know of, to foller.”
Oh how that madded ’em, and Miss Horn spoke up and says she:
“We have got a claim on her, and we’ll let you know we have.”
Says I, “The meetin’ house pays Elder Simmons 200 and 50 dollars, and so has got a claim on him, and how much does it lay out to pay Serepta; how much does it lay out to give her for the comin’ year?”
“Not one cent,” screamed out Miss Horn in skairt, excited axents. “Not one cent,” says nine other wimmen and the old deacon.
Then says I, risin’ up on my feet and wavin’ my hand out nobly:
“Clear out, the hull caboodle of you, and” I added in still firmer, nobler axents, “if the meetin’ house don’t leggo of Serepta, I’ll make it leggo.”
I s’pose my mean was that awful and commandin’ that it filled ’em with awe, and affright. They started right off, almost on the run, two able-bodied wimmen takin’ the old deacon between ’em.