“No,” says I firmly. “When I want to follow up Cleopatra's fashion, and commit suicide, I am goin' to hire a rattlesnake, and take my poison as she did, on the outside.”
“Cleopatra?” says he inquiringly. “Is she a Washington lady?”
And I says guardedly, “She has lots of relations here, I believe.”
“Wall,” he said, “he thought her name sounded familiar. Then, I can't do any thing for you?” he says.
“Yes,” says I calmly: “you can open the front door, and let me out.”
Which he did, and I was glad enough to get out into the pure air.
When I got back to the house, I found they had been to supper. Sally had had company that afternoon,—her husband's brother. He had jest left.
He lived only a few miles away, and had come in on the cars. Sally said he wanted to stay and see me the worst kind: he wanted to throw out some deep arguments aginst wimmen's suffrage. Says she, “He talks powerful about it: he would have convinced you, without a doubt.”
“Wall,” says I, “why didn't he stay?”