“You allude to public lectures?” said he, interrogatively, with unnecessary emphasis.
“Of course!”
“Oh!” and he resumed the study of a very dry-looking volume.
Affecting not to observe the mischievous gleam of his eye, I resumed:—
“But I am sometimes tempted to ask the use of your lecture-room for one evening, to call together an audience from which all persons of the masculine gender shall be excluded, and, then and there, harangue my own sex upon a subject that has engrossed much of my time and thoughts for eight years past.”
“What is it—cookery or dry goods? Either topic would be popular.”
“Something more important than both put together!” I retorted. My theme would be—
“‘The Rights of Babies and the Responsibilities of Mothers!’”
My auditor raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips very slightly—just enough to give one the impression that he would have whistled, had not politeness restrained him. Seeing that I was in nowise abashed by these discouraging manifestations, he offered an amendment to my resolution.
“Better write your discourse, instead, and have it printed.”