THE FEMALE GENTLEMAN.

A MOURNFUL BALLAD OF THE PERIOD.

A certain fair young maid,
With mind on progress bent,
Could not endure the way
Reformers mostly went.
Those rights she wished to gain,
Which SUSAN A. expects,
But still she would not lose
The softness of her sex.
If at a station she
For cars did wait in vain,
She would not stride about,
And "damn" the hapless train.
"With men I'll equal be,"
She said, "if women can;
But still I must become
A female gentleman.
Hereafter I shall try
Polite and kind to be;
And treat all gentlemen
As gentlemen treat me."
One morning, in a stage,
She rode to STEWART'S store—
A young man soon got in,
And sat down near the door.
Then, leaning towards the man,
While passengers did stare,
She smiling said, "Good sir,
Shall I pass up your fare?"

The young man started back
As if he had been shot.
Said he, "This dollar bill?
I think I'd rather not!"
The poor girl sat abashed,
While every one began
To have suspicions of
This female gentleman.
One morning, hast'ning home,
It rained—to her regret,
And just before her walked
A young man getting wet.
She stepped up to him quick,
And said, with courtesy rare,
"It's raining, sir; will you
My large umbrella share?"
The young man sprang aside,
Beneath a leaky spout;
The water from his clothes
Ran like a stream for trout.

His hand upon his watch
He clapped, and cried, "Don't stop!
Just travel on, I say,
Or I shall call a 'cop!'"
This sort of thing she tried
In many such a case;
But every time she met
Deplorable disgrace.
At last she said, "Oh, ho!
My plan it is no use;
When I politeness show
I always get abuse.
The day is yet to come
When female courtesy
Is wanted by the men;
No more of it for me!"
She straight sought SUSAN A.,
And joined her haughty clan
And tried no more to be
A female gentleman.