I thought of a number of badges and mottoes that I felt would be suitable for this Society, but dassent tell ’em to him, for his idees and mine on this subject are as fur apart as the two poles. He talked awful bitter to me once about it, and I sez to him:
“Philander, the world is full of good men, and there are also bad men in the world, and, sez I, did you ever in your born days see a bad man that wuzn’t opposed to Woman’s Suffrage? All the men who trade in, and profit by, the weakness and sin of men and women, they every one of ’em, to a man, fight agin it. And would they do this if they didn’t think that their vile trades would suffer if women had the right to vote? It is the great-hearted, generous, noble man who wants women to become a real citizen with himself—which she is not now—she is only a citizen just enough to be taxed equally with man, or more exhorbitantly, and be punished and executed by the law she has no hand in makin’.”
Philander sed, “I have always found it don’t pay to talk with women on matters they don’t understand.”
An’ he got up and started for the door, an’ Josiah sed, “No, it don’t pay, not a cent; I’ve always said so.”
But I told Philander I’d let him know if I see anything appropriate to the C.S.S. Holdin’ back with a almost Herculaneum effort the mottoes and badges that run through my mind as bein’ appropriate to their society; knowin’ it would make him so mad if I told him of ’em—he never would neighbor with us again. And in three days’ time we sot sail. We got to the depo about an hour too early, but I wuz glad we wuz on time, for it would have worked Josiah up dretfully ef we hadn’t been, for he had spent most of the latter part of the night in gittin’ up and walkin’ out to the clock seein’ if it wuz train time. Jest before we started, who should come runnin’ down to the depo but Sam Nugent wantin’ to send a errent by me to Washington. He wunk me out to one side of the waitin’ room, and ast “if I’d try to git him a license to steal horses.”
It kinder runs in the blood of the Nugents to love to steal, and he owned up it did, but he said he wanted the profit of it. But I told him I wouldn’t do any sech thing, an’ I looked at him in such a witherin’ way that I should most probable withered him, only he is blind in one side, and I wuz on the blind side, but he argued with me, and said that it wuz no worse than to give licenses for other kinds of meanness.
He said they give licenses now to steal—steal folkses senses away, and then they could steal everything else, and murder and tear round into every kind of wickedness. But he didn’t ask that. He wanted things done fair and square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He wuz goin’ West, and he thought he could do a good bizness, and lay up somethin’. If he had a license he shouldn’t be afraid of bein’ shet up or shot.
But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wuz refusin’, the cars snorted, and I wuz glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild snort something of the indignation I felt.
The idee!