Purple Springs

by Nellie L. McClung

"Now, as to banishing the bar, you all know I am not a drinker. I can take it—or leave it—but I am broad minded enough to let other people have the same privilege that I ask for myself. Men like to gather in a friendly way, chat over old times or discuss politics, and have a glass, for the sake of good fellowship, and there's no harm done. There are some, of course, who go too far—I am not denying that. But why do they do it? They did not get the right home training—that is why. In the sacred precincts of home, the child can be taught anything—that's the mother's part, and it is a more honorable part than trying to ape men—and wear the pants."

This brought a decided laugh—though if Mr. Steadman had been sensible to thought currents, he would have felt twinges in his joints, indicating that a storm was brewing. But he was having what the preachers call a "good time," and went merrily on.

"Direct legislation is a dangerous thing, which would upset representative government. It is nothing less than rabble rule, letting the ignorant rabble say what we are to do. Our vote is too wide now, as you know, when every Tom, Dick and Harry has a vote, whether they own an inch of ground or not. Your hired man can kill your vote, though you own a township of land. Do you want to give him more power? I think not! Well if the opposition ever get in power, the women and the hired men, and even the foreigners will run the country, and it will not be fit to live in. We're doing all right now, our public buildings, our institutions are the best in Canada. We have put the flag on every schoolhouse in the country—we have good, sane, steady government, let us stick to it. I believe that the next election will see the good ship come safely into port with the same old skipper on the bridge, and the flag of empire proudly furling its folds in the breeze. We have no fears of the fads and fancies put forward by short-haired women and long-haired men."

That being the end of his speech, the place where his superior always sat down, amidst thunderous applause. Mr. Steadman sat down, too, forgetting that he had been asked to be the Chairman, and introduce Pearl.

The applause which followed his remarks, was not so vociferous as he had expected, partly because there were no "Especially instructed clappers." No one was very enthusiastic, except Mrs. Steadman, who apparently agreed with all he said.

Rising to his feet again he said: "The good ladies have bountifully provided for our needs today—what would we do without the ladies? but before we come to that very interesting item on our program, we are going to hear from Pearl Watson. Pearl Watson is one of the girls who has taken full advantage of our splendid educational system, than which there is none better in Canada—or in the world. As a member of the Legislature, I am justly proud of our Department of Education, and today we will be entertained by one of our own products, Pearl Watson, on whom we might well hang the label 'Made in Canada.' I do not know whether she intends to say a piece—or what, but bespeak for her a respectful and courteous hearing."

Mr. Steadman sat down, adjusting his gold and blue tie, and removed his glasses, which he put away in a large leather case that closed with a snap. His attitude indicated that the real business of the day was over, now that he had spoken.

Pearl came forward and stepped to the platform, displacing temporarily one of the twins, to make a space where she might step. Having restored him safely, she turned to the people. There was a smile in her eyes that was contagious. The whole roomful of people smiled back at her, and in that moment she established friendly relations with her audience.

"It has been a real surprise to me," she began, in a conversational tone, "to hear Mr. Steadman make a speech. I am sure his colleagues in the House would have been surprised to have heard him today. He is a very quiet man there—he never speaks. The first night I went to the House with a crowd of Normalites, I pointed out our member, to let those city girls see what we could raise in the country—but it seems the speeches are all made by half a dozen, the others just say 'Aye' when they're told. All on one side of the House say 'Aye'; the other side say 'No.' I have heard Mr. Steadman say 'Aye,' lots of times—but nothing more. The Premier, or one of the Cabinet Ministers tells them when to say it—it all looks very easy to me. I would have thought even a woman could do it. The girls used to tease me about how quiet my representative was. He sat so still that it just seemed as if he might be asleep, and one girl said she believed he was dead. But one day, a window was left open behind him—and he sneezed, and then he got right up and shut it—Do you remember that day, Mr. Steadman?"

He shook his head impatiently, and the expression of his face was not pleasant. Still, no one would attribute anything but the friendliest motive to Pearl's innocent words.