“It is girls that can do this,” hollered the Senator from Delaware, “it hain’t boys.”
But I went on calm as I could:
“What are a few diamonds, that can be bought and sold, to be compared to the downfall of all hope and happiness, the contempt and derision of the world, the ruin of a life, and the loss of a immortal soul? And your laws grant this privilege to children if they are a day or two over seven.”
“That law was made for girls,” cried the Senator agin in stentorian axents.
“Yes,” sez I, “men made that law, and girls and wimmen have to stand it. But,” sez I, lookin’ and actin’ considerable fierce, as the mighty shame and disgrace of that law come over me, “it is a law so infamus that I should think the old Atlantic herself (bein’ a female, as is spozed) would jest rare herself up and wash over the hull land, to try to wipe out or bury the horrible disgrace that has been put upon her sect—would swash up and cover your little State completely up—it ort to, and hide it forever from the heavens and the eye of females.”
BABE.
That man begun to quail, I see he did. But the thought of Snow, the darlin’, and our dear Babe at Jonesville nerved me up agin—the thought of them, our own treasures, and the hosts of pretty children all over our land, beloved by some hearts jest as dearly as our children wuz.
And I went on more fiery than I had went, as I thought, why Babe is old enough now, and Snow will be in a little while, to lay their sweet little lives down under this Jugernut built up by the vile passions of men, and goin’ ahead of Isaac, lay themselves on the altar, take their own lives, and build up the fire to consume ’em.
“The idee of law-makers who call themselves wise makin’ such laws as these!”