PROFESSOR GUSHER.
“Yes Sir,” says I keenly lookin’ up from my knitin’ work. “Jest as many rights as she can get holt of, rights never hurt any body yet.”
“Worthy statements,” says he. “And you believe in Free Love, do you not?”
“How free?” says I cooly.
“Free to marry any body you want to, and as long as you want to, from half a day, up to 5 years or so.”
“No Sir!” says I sternly, “I believe in rights, but I don’t believe in wrongs, of all the miserable doctrines that was ever let loose on the world, the doctrine of Free Love is the miserable’st. Free Love!” I repeated in indignant tones, “it ought to be called free devlitry, that is the right name for it.”
He sunk right back in his chair, put his hand wildly to his brow and exclaimed,
“My soul aches, I thought I had found a congenial spirit, but I am decieved, my breast aches, and siths, and pants.” He looked so awful distressed, that I didn’t know what did ail him, and I looked pityin’ on him from over my spectacles and I says to him jest as I would to our Thomas Jefferson,
“Mebby your vest is too tight.”
“Vest!” he repeated in wild tones, “would I had no worse trammels than store clothes, but it is the fate of reformers to be misunderstood. Woman the pain is deeper and it is a gnawin’ me.”