Agin I thought of Josiah, and agin I interrupted her by sayin’ “Men haint the worst critters in the world, they are as generous and charitable agin, as wimmen are, as a general thing.”
“Then what do you want wimmen to vote for, if you think so?”
“Because I want justice done to every human bein’. Justice never hurt nobody yet, and rights given through courtesy and kindness, haint so good in the long run, as rights given by law. And besides, there are exceptions to every rule. There are mean men in the world as well as good ones. Justice to wimmen won’t prevent charitable men from bein’ charitable, generous men from bein’ generous, and good men from bein’ good, while it will restrain selfishness and tyrany. One class was never at the mercy of another, in any respect, without that power bein’ abused in some instances. Wimmen havin’ the right to vote haint a goin’ to turn the world over to once, and make black, white, in a minute, not by no means. But I sincerely believe it will bring a greater good to the female race and to the world.”
Says I, in my most eloquent way, “There is a star of hope a risin’ in the East for wimmen. Let us foller on after it through the desert of the present time, not with our dresses trailin’ down onto the sandy ground, and our waists lookin’ like pismires, and our hair frizzled out like maniacs. Let us go with our own hair on our heads, soberly, decently, and in order; let us behave ourselves in such a sober, christian way, that we can respect ourselves, and then men will respect us.”
“I thought,” says she, “that you was a pure Wimmen’s Righter! I thought you took part with us in our warfare with our foeman man! I thought you was a firm friend to wimmen, but I find I am mistaken.”
FEMALE STATESMANSHIP.
“I am a friend to wimmen,” says I, “and because I am, I don’t want her to make a natural born fool of herself. And I say agin, I don’t wonder sometimes, that men don’t think that wimmen know enough to vote, when they see ’em go on. If a woman don’t know enough to make a dress so she can draw a long breath in it, how is she goin’ to take deep and broad views of public affairs? If she puts 30 yards of calico into a dress, besides the trimmin’s, how is she goin’ to preach acceptably on political economy? If her face is covered with paint, and her curls and frizzles all danglin’ down onto her eyes, how can she look straight and keenly into foreign nations and see our relations there? If a woman don’t know enough to keep her dress out of the mud, how is she goin’ to steer the nation through the mud puddle of politics? If a woman humps herself out, and makes a camel of herself, how is she goin’ through the eye of a needle?”
I said these last words in a real solemn camp meetin’ tone, but they seemed to mad her, for she started right up and went out, and I didn’t care a cent if she did, I had seen enough of her. She ketched her trail in the door and tore off pretty nigh a yard of it, and I didn’t cry about that, not a mite. I don’t like these bold brazen faced wimmen that go a rantin’ round the country, rigged out in that way, jest to make themselves notorious. Thier names hadn’t ought to be mentioned in the same day, with true earnest wimmen who take thier reputations in thier hands, and give thier lives to the cause of Right, goin’ ahead walkin’ afoot through the wilderness, cuttin’ down trees, and diggin’ out stumps, makin’ a path for the car of Freedom, that shall yet roll onward into Liberty.
As soon as she was gone, I went down and eat my dinner, for I was hungry as a bear. At the dinner table Jonothan Beans’es ex wife asked me “what I would like for desert.”