He acted embarassed and skairt, and well he might. Why, the abomination of their doctrine is so abominable, that when it is presented to ’em in a eloquent, high-toned way by a woman who talks but little, but that little earnest and deep; when she places it before ’em in the axent she always handles when talkin’ on principle, and with the soarin’, deep look of her spectacles she always uses on them occasions—why, it is enough to skair anybody to death.
But in a moment or so he sort o’ rousted up, and says he:
“If you think so much of female wimmen as you say you do, I should think you would think about what the position of these plural wives would be if polygimy were abolished. What would they be thought of? What would they be?”
Says I, in awful tones: “What be they now?”
“Wall,” says he, “if they should be divorced they wouldn’t be looked upon as they are now.”
“No,” says I, “that is very true; they wouldn’t, not at all, not by me.”
Says he: “They would be looked down upon more.”
Says I, with dignity: “Stoppin’ sinnin’ hadn’t ort to make anybody thought less on,” says I. “That[a]“That] hain’t accordin’ to my creed or my skripter.”
Says he: “If they was divorced their situation would be very painful and humiliatin’.”
Says I, very dryly: “It is now, in my estimation.”