Part 7

"Right there in that big clearin' there wuz a perfect army of tinkers makin' a immense brass kettle. There wuz jest one hundred of 'em, for I counted 'em over twice so's to be sure of gittin' the exact number. I am always so perfectly reliable in my statements, and am bound to git the smallest petickulars jest right. I spoze I got the habit partly from weighin' out my medicines so exact.

"And them tinkers wuz hammerin' away for all they wuz worth on that kettle, and you may judge of the size of it when I tell you them workmen wuz so fur apart they couldn't hear each other a hammerin'."

Even Condelick Henzy wuz took back and browbeat and sez mekanically, "What do you spoze they wuz goin' to do with the kettle?"

"Well," sez Dr. Meezik, "they didn't tell me, for I didn't want to act forward and ask, but I always spozed they wuz goin' to use it to bile your cabbage in."

Just at this epock of time Samantha gathered up her insane piece work and left the room. She didn't say nothin', but I knowed by the looks of her linement jest as well as I know now, that she'd throw that kettle and that cabbage in my face some time the most inconvenient for me, and you can see plain she's done it and now I hope she's satisfied.

As I said I went out to the barn and kinder fussed round cleanin' up some, and I never see Samantha agin till dinner time. I wuzn't afraid to go in and meet her and have her resoom her argument agin. No, I skorn the importation. I belong to a fearless sect, and am almost unacquainted with the word fear, though I know there is such a word in the Dictionary.

No, I had considerable putterin' round to do in the barn, and hen house, and so I stayed out there till I hearn the welcome sound of the dinner bell and smelt even from the barn door the agreable odors risin' from a first class dinner.

The smell and taste of the tender roast lamb and lushious vegetables softened my feelin's considerable, or would have if it hadn't been for the look on Samantha's face. It wuzn't a cross look nor a mean one, would that it wuz, for I could handle them looks better.

No, it wuz a kind of a superior look, as if she had conquored me in the argument about exaggeration and prevarication, and wuz gloatin' over the _contrary temps_ that had occurred in the settin' room only the evenin' before, the little incident that broke down my excelent argument.

And of all the looks that mankind ever read on a woman's linement, the one a man can't stand is a superior look, a look that says as plain as words, "I like you and pity you, but I can't help lookin' down on you, Poor Thing!" That look from a inferior sect always aggravates a man so that he hain't skursly answerable for what he sez and duz.

And almost onbeknown to me I broke forth in a crushin' argument designed to crush her and change that look on her linement to one of humbleness becomin' to a female. Sez I, "Our sect has been the makin' of yourn, and it seems that when a female considers and thinks on all that men have done for wimmen and are willin' to do for 'em, they would have some feelin's of gratitude towards 'em, but they don't; they delight in argyin' with 'em and tryin' to git the better on 'em."

Instead of my smart reasonable words affectin' her favorably it seemed as if the look I despised deepened on her linement; not a sign did I see of meach, nor a sign of humble gratitude, and I wuz so irritated by it that I lanched right out in the crushin' argument that I had on my mind and that ort to bring female feathers droopin' down in the very dust.

Sez I, "Do you ever pause to think, Samantha, of the inestimable boon wimmen owe to men? Why," sez I, "if it hadn't been for a man, wimmen wouldn't had no souls to-day."

"How do you make that out?" sez Samantha, helpin' herself camly to some more dressin'.

"Why, it is a matter of history that way back in the centuries the preachers of that time had a meetin' to settle the question, and when they took a vote on't, the majority on 'em stood out on the popular side and cast their votes agin 'em, and vowed and declared that females hadn't no souls. And it wuz only by the vote of one single solitary man that it wuz carried in their favor and decided that they had souls.

"And I should think females would be so grateful to that noble man for what he done for 'em, for his bein' willin' to admit that they had souls, that they would honor the hull sect to which he belonged, and look up to 'em in humble and grateful gratitude, and never try to argy with 'em and aggravate 'em. For let me ask you, Samantha," sez I, in a solemn axent, "where would wimmen have been if that man had held out and jined in with the rest, and decided that wimmen hadn't got any soul? Where would they been then, and where would they be to-day?"

"Jest where they always wuz and are now," sez Samantha camly helpin' herself to a apple dumplin'. "It seems that it wuz men that started the question in the first place, and I spoze that if wimmen hadn't been so wore out and hampered by her hard work of takin' care of men, cookin', mendin', and cleanin' for 'em and bringin' up their children, etc., they might have had a jury of wimmen set on men to find out if _they_ had souls. But I don't spoze they had a minute's time to spare from their hard work no more than I have, and I don't spoze it would make any difference either way. The main thing is whether men and wimmen have got souls to-day, and use them souls for the good of mankind, instead of lettin' 'em grow hard, or wither away in indifference to the woes and wants of the world, and the cause of Eternal Justice for every one, male and female."

That is jest the way with wimmen, they've got to talk and argy and try to have the last word. You can't seem to make 'em act meachin' and beholdin' to men anyway you can work it, and it seems to me I've tried every way there is from first to last.

But I wouldn't argy no more, I felt above it. I helped myself to my fourth apple dumplin' with a look of silent contemp on my linement, also I had the same look when I poured the lemon sass over it and took my third cup of coffee.

And my linement still showed to a clost observer the marks of a tried though hauty sperit, as I riz up from the table and retired with a high step to my sacred corner to resoom my literary efforts.

Sometimes pardners are real aggravatin' to each other and a trial to be borne with. And though I don't know what I'd do if I should ever lose Samantha, it don't seem as if I could ever eat another woman's vittles after livin' on the fat of the land as you may say for forty years.

Yet there are times when you set smartin' under wownds your pardner has gin your sperit and from arguments she no need to have brung up, and you see a widow man a passin' by, you have feelin's that can skursly be told on. You can see by the looks of his face and hands that he don't wash any oftener than he wants to, and never combs his hair and don't change his clothes till the Board of Health gits after him. And you know he never goes to meetin', and throws off girl blinders boldly, and stays out nights till as late as ten P.M. onquestioned and onscolded. And don't have to clean his shues when he goes in, and never curbs his appetite, but eats like a hog and enjoys himself.

Why, much as you love the dear pardner of your bosom, and prize the excelent food she cooks, and the clean comfortable home she makes for you--the air of freedom that seems to blow from that widow man (kinder stale air too) yet it fans your clean head and clean stiff shirt bosom like a breath from the Isle of Freedom.

And so after Samantha had hurt my feelin's and wownded my self respect by remindin' me of the incident mentioned, when if she had kep' still I should have come off victorious in my argument, I retired into the solitude of my corner in the settin' room where Betsy Bobbett's poetry lay heaped up in the dish-pan and I read with feelin' that I couldn't skursly describe the follerin' verses which I spoze Betsy writ after her husband had wownded her feelin's. And in readin' it I dedicate it silently to my brother men who have been aggravated by their pardners.

LONGIN'S OF THE SOLE

_By Betsy Bobbett Slimpsey_

Oh Gimlet! back again I float, With broken wings, a weary bard; I cannot write as once I wrote, I have to work so very hard; So hard my lot, so tossed about, My muse is fairly tuckered out.

My muse aforesaid once hath flown, But now her back is broke, and breast; And yet she fain would crumple down; On Gimlet's pages she would rest, And sing plain words as there she's sot-- Haply they'll rhyme, and haply not.

I spake plain words in former days, No guile I showed, clear was my plan; My gole it matrimony was; My earthly aim it was a man. I gained my man, I won my gole; Alas! I feel not as I fole.

Yes, ringing through my maiden thought This clear voice rose: "Oh come up higher." To speak plain truth with candor fraught, To married be was my desire-- Now, sweeter still this lot doth seem, To be a widder is my theme.

For toil hath claimed me for her own, In wedlock I have found no ease; I've cleaned and washed for neighbors round, And took my pay in beans and pease; In boiling sap no rest I took, Or husking corn in barn and stook.

Or picking wool from house to house, White-washing, painting, papering, In stretching carpets, boiling souse; E'en picking hops it hath a sting, For spiders there assembled be, Mosquitoes, bugs and etc.

I have to work oh! very hard; Old Toil I know your breadth and length; I'm tired to death, and in one word, I have to work beyend my strength. And mortal men are very tough To get along with, nasty, rough.

Yes, tribulations doomed to her Who weds a man, without no doubt, In peace a man is singuler; His ways they are past findin' out, And oh! the wrath of mortal males-- To paint their ire, earth's language fails.

And thirteen children in our home Their buttons rent their clothes they burst, Much bread and such did they consume; Of children they did seem the worst. And Simon and I do disagree; He's prone to sin continualee.

He horrors has, he oft doth kick, He prances, yells--he will not work. Sometimes I think he is too sick; Sometimes I think he tries to shirk; But 'tis hard for her in either case, Who B. Bobbett was in happier days.

Happier? Away! such thoughts I spurn. I count it true from spring to fall, 'Tis better to be wed, and groan, Than never to be wed at all. I'd work my hands down to the bone Rather than rest a maiden lone.

This truth I cannot, will not shirk, I feel it when I sorrow most: I'd rather break my back with work, And haggard look as any ghost,-- Rather than lonely vigils keep, I'd wed and sigh and groan and weep.

Yes, I can say though tears fall quick Can say, while briny tear-drops start, I'd rather wed a crooked stick, Than never wed no stick at all. Sooner than laughed at be, as of yore I'd ruther laugh myself no more.

I'd ruther go half clad and starved, And mops and dish-cloths madly wave Than have the name, B. Bobbett, carved On head-stun rising o'er my grave. Proud thought! now, when that stun is risen 'Twill bear two names--my name and hisen.

Methinks 'twould colder make the stun If but one name, the name of she, Should linger there alone--alone. How different when the name of he Does also deck the funeral urn; Two wedded names, his name and hurn.

And sweeter yet, oh blessed lot! Oh state most dignified and blest! To be a widder calmly sot, And have both dignity and rest. Oh Simon, strangely sweet 'twould be To be a widder unto thee.

The warfare past, the horrors done, With maiden's ease and pride of wife, The dignity of wedded one, The calm and peace of single life,-- Oh, strangely sweet this lot doth seem; A female widder is my theme.

I would not hurt a hair of he, Yet did he from earth's toil escape, I could most reconciléd be, Could sweetly mourn e'en without crape. Could say without a pang of pain That Simon's loss was Betsy's gain.

I've told the plain tale of my woes, With no deceit or language vain, Have told whereon my hopes are rose, Have sung my mournful song of pain. And now I e'en will end my tale, I've sung my song, and wailed my wail.

X

THE MODERN WIMMEN CONDEMNED

The Vice President of the Creation Searchin' Society of Jonesville wuz here yesterday mornin', and as soon as he'd gone through the usual neighborly talk about the weather, the hens, his wife, and the neighbors, etc., he tipped back in his chair and pushed back his hat a little furder on his head. He never took off his hat in my sight; Samantha asked me once "if I spozed he took it off nights, or slep in it."

But I explained it to her as a kind man is always willin' to do if a female asks him properly for information.

Sez I, "I hearn him say once, Samantha, that the way he got in the habit of not takin' off his hat before wimmen wuz to impress 'em with the fact of male superiority, and to let 'em know that he wuzn't goin' to bow down before 'em and act meachin'. He wuz always a big feelin' feller and after he got to be such a high official in the C.S.S. he naterally is hautier actin'."

Well, almost to once he begun to Samantha about wimmen's votin', runnin' the idee down to the very lowest notch it could go on the masculine stillyards. You see my forthcomin' great work agin Wimmen Rights has excited the male Jonesvillians dretfully, and emboldened 'em, till they act as fierce and bold as lions when they're talkin' to females.

They realize that when that immortal work is lanched onto the waitin' world the cause of Woman's Suffrage will collapse like the bladders we used to blow up in childhood, jest as sharp and sudden and jest as windy. They know that them that uphold such uroneous beliefs won't be nothin' nor nobody then, and so they begin beforehand to act more hauty and uppish towards Suffragists, and browbeat 'em. And he poked fun at the cause and slurred at it, and sneered at it till I didn't know but Samantha would take lumbago from his remarks, but she didn't seem to.

She had got her mornin's work all did up slick, her gingham apron hung up behind the kitchen door, and she'd resoomed her white one trimmed with tattin'. And she sot knittin' on a pair of blue woosted socks for me, her linement as smooth and onrumpled as her hair, which wuz combed smooth round her forward. And she kep' on with her knittin', only once in a while she would look up at him over her specs in the queer way she has at times, but still kep' lookin' cam, and sayin' nothin'.

And her camness and her silence seemed to spur him on and make him bolder and more aggressiver. He thought she wuz afraid on him, but I knowed she wuzn't.

At last he flung out the remark to her that if wimmen could vote it would be the bad wimmen who would flock to the poles; Samantha wuz jest turnin' the heel in my sock and after she made the turn she said that that wuzn't so, and she brought up statisticks and throwed at him (still a knittin' and seamin' two and two) provin' that it is the educated conscientious wimmen who want to help the good men of the country to make the laws to try to make the world a safer place for their children, a better, cleaner place for every one, and she threw some statements at him from States that had Woman's Suffrage for years and years to prove her insertion, but the statisticks, the figgers and the proofs piled about him onheeded, for he had got hot and excited by this time and it seemed as if Samantha's very camness madded him, and her knittin', and her seamin' two and two, and her countin' "one--two," to herself once in a while.

And sez he agin in a overbearin' skairful voice, intended to intimidate females, "I tell you it is the bad wimmen who will rush to the poles, and I can prove what I say." Sez he, "The meaner anybody is the more and the oftener they want to vote; my father is one of the best of men and you can't hardly git him to stir his stumps 'lection day. And my wife's father is the meanest man in the country and he will vote from mornin' till night for either party and sell his vote where he can git the highest figger--(he don't live happy with his wife, and he went on) and so will her Uncle Josh sell his vote to anybody for a glass of whiskey, and most all the men on her side will sell their vote and make money by it. And I know more'n a dozen men right round here who do the same thing. I don't spoze you wimmen read much of any, but if you did you'd see how common graft and fraud is in politics, all the way from Jonesville to Washington. So you see," sez he, "I can prove right out what I said that it is the bad wimmen who would vote."

Samantha counted "two and two" to herself, and then said in a mild axent, "Why would a bad woman's vote be worse than a bad man's?" The Vice President see in a minute into what a deep hole his excitement and voylent desire to prove his argument had led him, and he acted sheepish as a sheep.

But anon he revived and ketched holt of the first argument he could lay his hand on, to prop up his side of the question. It wuz a argument he had read about, he didn't believe it himself, but ketched at it in his hurry.

Sez he, "We expect more from wimmen than we do from men; they're naterally better than men and we want to keep 'em so, keep 'em out of the dirt of public affairs."

Sez Samantha still a knittin' and still a lookin' cam, "You must use clean water to cleanse dirty things. I don't believe as you do. I think the good qualities of men and wimmen would heft jest about equal, and need equal treatment. But accordin' to your tell if men are so much worse than wimmen they need her help to clean up things."

Agin the Vice President see where his hasty talk and anxiety to prove his pint had led him. He wiggled round in his chair till I trembled for the legs on it, for he wuz still leanin' back in it too fur for safety. He kinder run his hand up under his hat and scratched his head, but didn't seem to root any new idees out of his hair, and he finally give up, settled his hat back more firmly on his head agin, let his chair down sudden and got up and sez:

"I come over this mornin' to borry Josiah's sheep shears."

And after he went out with 'em I asked Samantha, "What do you spoze the Vice President wanted of sheep shears this time of year?" And she sez:

"He looked sheepish enough to use 'em on himself."

Well, it wuz gittin' along towards noon, as I reminded Samantha, and she riz up and put her knittin' work on the mantelry piece, resoomed her gingham apron and went out into the kitchen and soon I hearn the welcome sounds so sweet to a man's ear whether literary or profane, that preperations wuz goin' on for a good square meal.

And as I sot there peaceful and happy in my mind who should come in but my dear and congenial friend, Uncle Sime Bentley. He had been on a visit to Illenoy. And after his first words of greetin' and his anxious inquiries as to how my great work wuz progressin' and gittin' along, he went on and gin me the petickulars about his journey.

He'd been on a visit to the city to see his nephew, Bill Bentley. Bill is well off and smart, and his father-in-law is rich and sent his only child, Bill's wife, to college; "jest like a fool," Uncle Sime said. "For what duz a female want with such a eddication." Sez he, "The three R's, Readin', Ritin' and Rithmetic are enough for her and would be for any woman if they worked and tended to things as my ma, Bill's grandma did.

"Up at four every mornin' summer and winter, milkin' five or six cows and then gittin' breakfast for her big fambly, hired men and all, and doin' every mite of the housework, and spinnin', weavin', makin' and mendin', and takin' sole care of her eight children, in sickness and health, and takin' care of her mother who had been as big a worker and stay-at-home as she wuz, and who wuz now melancholy crazy in a little room done off the woodshed.

"How ma did work," sez Uncle Sime in a reminescin' axent, "stiddy at it from mornin' till night, never stirrin' out of the house from year to year. Oh! if she could only have lived to set a sample for Bill's wife, and instruct her in a wife's duty.

"I told Bill so," sez Uncle Sime. "And if you please," sez he, "Bill resented it, and said, ketch him a killin' his wife with work hard enough for four wimmen, and not stirrin' out of the house from year to year, he thought too much of her; sez he, 'if I wanted a slave I'd buy one and pay cash for her.'

"He didn't seem to appreciate ma's doin's no more than nothin', though as I told him, _There_ wuz a woman whose price wuz above rubies, so different from the slack forward wimmen of to-day. So retirin', so modest and womanly, willin' to work her fingers to the bone and not complain. Never puttin' forward her opinion about anything, always lookin' up to pa and knowin' he wuz always right. And if she ever did seem curious about anything outside her housework and fambly, pa would shet her up and bring her back to her duty pretty quick. Yes indeed! pa wuz the head of the house, and laid out to be. But Bill didn't seem to have no gumption and self respect at all, and wuz perfectly willin' to be on equal terms with his wife. And Bill told him she had a household allowance and a private bank account. Private bank account! I told Bill it wuz enough to make his grandma rise from her grave to see such bold onwomanly doin's.

"And Bill said 'it would be a good thing for her to rise, if she could stay up, for mebby she would take a little comfort and rest her mind and her bones a little, at this epock of time.'"

I sez, "I spoze, Simon, you didn't have nothin' fit to eat there and everything goin' to rack and ruin about the house."

"No," Uncle Sime said, "I must own up that things run pretty smooth, and Bill's wife sot a good table. They had a stout woman who helped about the work and takin' care of the children, leavin' Bill's wife free to go round with Bill to meetin's and clubs and a fishin' and motor ridin', and picknickin' with him and the kids."

"I spoze she wuz high headed and disagreable," sez I.

"No," sez Uncle Sime, "she wuz always good natered and dressed pretty, and why shouldn't she?" sez he bitterly, "havin' her own way and runnin' things to suit herself. And why shouldn't she dress pretty? Lanchin' out and buyin' everything she wanted. Not curbed down by Bill, nor askin' a man's advice at all about her clothes or housen stuff so fur as I could see."

Sez I, "Mebby Bill didn't like it so well as you thought, Simon; mebby he wuz chafin' inside on him."

"No, he wuzn't, he liked it, there's one of the pints I'm comin' at, how these modern wimmen will pull the wool over men's eyes, no matter how smart he is naterally. They did seem to have good times together, laughin' and talkin' together, settin' to the table a hour or so, a visitin' away as if they hadn't seen each other for a month. But merciful heavens! the subjects they talked on and discussed over! It seemed that she knew every crook and turn on subjects that Bill's grandma never had heard on by name. Hygeen, books, Street Cleanin', Hospital work, Charities, Political affairs from pole to pole and Scientific subjects--Radium, Electricity, Spiritualism, Woman's Suffrage, which they both believed in. There seemed to be no end to the subjects they talked about. So different from pa and ma's talk. They eat their meals in perfect and solemn silence most all the time, ma always waitin' on him. And if she did venter any remarks to him they usually didn't fly no higher than hen's eggs or neighborhood doin's. Do you spoze that pa would stood it havin' a wife that acted as if she knew as much as he did? Not much.