Betsey still sot silently twistin’ her bunnet strings, but I see that she was a mewsin’ on some thought of her own, and in a minute or so she broke out: “Oh, what a soaring sole Prof. Gusheh is; he soared in his lecture to that extent that it seemed as if he would lift me right up, and carry me off.”
For a minute I thought of Theron Gusher with respect, and then agin my eye fell sadly upon Betsey, and she went on,
“I came right home and wrote a poem on the subject, and I will read it to you.” And before I could say a word to help myself, she begun to read.
Him of the Free Love Republic.
BY BETSEY BOBBET.
If females had the spunk of a mice,
From man, their foeman they would arise,
Their darning needles to infamy send—
Their dish cloth fetters nobly rend,
From tyrant man would rise and flee;