Chapter 3

Polly and Royal had had many an argument on the subject, that is, he would begin by makin’ fun of the Suffragists and their militant doin’s, which if he’d thought on’t wuz sunthin’ like what his old revolutionary forbears went through for the same reasons, bein’ taxed without representation, and bein’ burdened and punished by the law they had no voice in making, only the Suffragettes are not nearly so severe with their opposers, they haven’t drawed any blood yet. Why, them old Patriots we revere so, would consider their efforts for freedom exceedingly gentle and tame compared to their own bloody battles.

And Royal would make light of the efforts of college girls to help workin’ girls, and the encouragement and aid they’d gin ’em when they wuz strikin’ for less death-dealin’ hours of labor, and livin’ wages, and so forth. I don’t see how such a really noble young man as Royal ever come to argy that way, but spoze it wuz the dead hand of some rough onreasonable old ancestor reachin’ up out of the shadows of the past and pushin’ him on in the wrong direction.

So when he begun to ridicule what Polly’s heart wuz sot on, when she felt that he wuz fightin’ agin right and justice, before they knowed it both pairs of bright eyes would git to flashin’ out angry sparks, and hash words would be said on both sides. That old long-buried Tory ancestor of hisen eggin’ him on, so I spoze, and Polly’s generous sperit rebellin’ aginst the injustice and selfishness, and mebby some warlike ancestor of hern pushin’ her on to say hash things. ’Tennyrate he had grown less attentive to her, and wuz bestowin’ his time and attentions elsewhere.

And when she told him she wuz goin’ to ride in the automobile parade of the suffragists, but really ridin’ she felt towards truth and justice to half the citizens of the U.S., he wuz mad as a wet hen, a male wet hen, and wuz bound she shouldn’t go.

Some men, and mebby it is love that makes ’em feel so (they say it is), and mebby it is selfishness (though they won’t own up to it), but they want the women they love to belong to them alone, want to rule absolutely over their hearts, their souls, their bodies, and all their thoughts and aims, desires, and fancies. They don’t really say they want ’em to wear veils, and be shet in behind lattice-windowed harems, but I believe they would enjoy it.

They want to be foot loose and heart loose themselves, but always after Ulysses is tired of world wandering, he wants to come back and open the barred doors of home with his own private latch-key, and find Penelope knitting stockings for him with her veil on, waitin’ for him.

That sperit is I spoze inherited from the days when our ancestor, the Cave man, would knock down the woman he fancied, with a club, and carry her off into his cave and keep her there shet up. But little by little men are forgettin’ their ancestral traits, and men and wimmen are gradually comin’ out of their dark caverns into the sunshine (for women too have inherited queer traits and disagreeable ones, but that is another story).

Well, as I said, Royal wuz mad and told Polly that he guessed that the day of the Parade he would take Maud Vincent out in the country in his motor, to gather May-flowers. Polly told him she hoped they would have a good time, and then, after he had gone, drivin’ his car lickety-split, harem skarum, owin’ to his madness I spoze, Polly went upstairs and cried, for I hearn her, her room wuz next to ourn.

And I deeply respected her for her principles, for he had asked her first to go May-flowering with him the day of the Suffrage meeting. But she refused, havin’ in her mind, I spoze, the girls that couldn’t hunt flowers, but had to handle weeds and thistles with bare hands (metaforically) and wanted to help them and all workin’ wimmen to happier and more prosperous lives.

IV. “STRIVIN’ WITH THE EMISSARY”

But I am hitchin’ the horse behind the wagon and to resoom backwards. The Reunion wuz put off a week and the Suffrage Meetin’ wuz two days away, so I told Lorinda I didn’t believe I would have a better time to carry Serepta Pester’s errents to Washington, D.C. Josiah said he guessed he would stay and help wait on Hiram Cagwin, and I approved on’t, for Lorinda wuz gittin’ wore out.

And then Josiah made so light of them errents I felt that he would be a drawback instead of a help, for how could I keep a calm and noble frame of mind befittin’ them lofty errents, and how could I carry ’em stiddy with a pardner by my side pokin’ fun at ’em, and at me for carryin’ ’em, jarrin’ my sperit with his scorfin’ and onbelievin’ talk?

And as I sot off alone in the trolley I thought of how they must have felt in old times a-carryin’ the Urim and Thumim. And though I hadn’t no idee what them wuz, yet I always felt that the carriers of ’em must have felt solemn and high-strung. Yes, my feelin’s wuz such as I felt of the heft and importance of them errents not alone to Serepta Pester, but to the hull race of wimmen that it kep’ my mental head rained up so high that I couldn’t half see and enjoy the sight of the most beautiful city in the world, and still I spoze its grandeur and glory sort o’ filtered down through my conscientiousness, as cloth grows white under the sun’s rays onbeknown to it.

Anon I left the trolley and walked some ways afoot. It wuz a lovely day, the sun shone down in golden splendor upon the splendor beneath it. Broad, beautiful clean streets, little fresh green parks, everywhere you could turn about, and big ones full of flowers and fountains, and trees and statutes.

And anon or oftener I passed noble big stun buildings, where everything is made for the nation’s good and profit. Money and fish and wisdom and all sorts of patented things and garden seeds and tariffs and resolutions and treaties and laws of every shape and size, good ones and queer ones and reputations and rates and rebates, etc., etc. But it would devour too much time to even name over all that is made and onmade there, even if I knowed by name the innumerable things that are flowin’ constant out of that great reservoir of the Nation, with its vast crowd of law-makers settin’ on the lid, regulatin’ its flow and spreadin’ it abroad over the country, thick and thin.

But on I went past the Capitol, the handsomest buildin’ on the Globe, standin’ in its own Eden of beauty. By the Public Library as long as from our house to Grout Hozleton’s, and I guess longer, and every foot on’t more beautifler ornamented than tongue can tell. But I didn’t dally tryin’ to pace off the size on’t, though it wuz enormous, for the thought of what I wuz carryin’ bore me on almost regardless of my matchless surroundin’s and the twinges of rumatiz. And anon I arrived at the White House, where my hopes and the hopes of my sect and Serepta Pester wuz sot. I will pass over my efforts to git into the Presence, merely sayin’ that they were arjous and extreme, and I wouldn’t probably have got in at all had not the Presence appeared with a hat on jest goin’ out for a walk, and see me as I wuz strivin’ with the emissary for entrance. I spoze my noble mean, made more noble fur by the magnitude of what I wuz carryin’, impressed him, for suffice it to say inside of five minutes the Presence wuz back in his augience room, and I wuz layin’ out them errents of Serepta’s in front of him.

He wuz very hefty, a good-lookin’ smilin’ man, a politer demeanored gentlemanly appearner man I don’t want to see. But his linement which had looked so pleasant and cheerful growed gloomy and deprested as I spread them errents before him and sez in conclusion:

“Serepta Pester sent these errents to you, she wanted intemperance done away with, the Whiskey Ring broke up and destroyed, she wanted you to have nothin’ stronger than root beer when you had company to dinner, she offerin’ to send you some burdock and dandeline roots and some emptins to start it with, and she wanted her rights, and wanted ’em all by week after next without fail.”

He sithed hard, and I never see a linement fall furder than hisen fell, and kep’ a-fallin’. I pitied him, I see it wuz a hard stent for him to do it in the time she had sot, and he so fleshy too. But knowin’ how much wuz at the stake, and how the fate of Serepta and wimmen wuz tremblin’ in the balances, I spread them errents out before him. And bein’ truthful and above board, I told him that Serepta wuz middlin’ disagreeable and very humbly, but she needed her rights jest as much as though she wuz a wax-doll. And I went on and told him how she and her relations had suffered from want of rights, and how dretfully she had suffered from the Ring till I declare talkin’ about them little children of hern, and her agony, I got about as fierce actin’ as Serepta herself, and entirely onbeknown to myself I talked powerful on intemperance and Rings, and such.

When I got down agin onto my feet I see he had a still more worried and anxious look on his good-natured face, and he sez: “The laws of the United States are such that I can’t do them errands, I can’t interfere.”

“Then,” sez I, “why don’t you make the United States do right?”

He said sunthin’ about the might of the majority, and the powerful corporations and rings, and that sot me off agin. And I talked very powerful and allegored about allowin’ a ring to be put round the United States and let a lot of whiskey dealers and corporations lead her round, a pitiful sight for men and angels. Sez I, “How duz it look before the nations to see Columbia led round half-tipsy by a Ring?”

He seemed to think it looked bad, I knew by his looks.

Sez I, “Intemperance is bad for Serepta and bad for the Nation.”

He murmured sunthin’ about the revenue the liquor trade brought the Govermunt.

But I sez, “Every penny is money right out of the people’s pockets; every dollar the people pay into the liquor traffic that gives a few cents into the treasury, is costin’ the people ten times that dollar in the loss intemperance entails, loss of labor, by the inability of drunken men to do anything but wobble and stagger, loss of wealth by the enormous losses of property and taxation, of alms-houses, mad-houses, jails, police forces, paupers’ coffins, and the diggin’ of thousands and thousands of graves that are filled yearly by them that reel into ’em.” Sez I, “Wouldn’t it be better for the people to pay that dollar in the first place into the treasury than to let it filter through the dram-seller’s hands, a few cents of it fallin’ into the national purse at last, putrid and heavy with all these losses and curses and crimes and shames and despairs and agonies?”

He seemed to think it would, I see by the looks of his linement he did. Every honorable man feels so in his heart, and yet they let the Liquor Ring control ’em and lead ’em round. “It is queer, queer as a dog.” Sez I, “The intellectual and moral power of the United States are rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring and bein’ drove by the whiskey dealers jest where they want to drive ’em.” Sez I, “It controls New York village and nobody denies it, and the piety and philanthropy and culture and philosophy of that village has to be drawed along by that Ring.” And sez I, in low but startlin’ tones of principle:

“Where, where is it a-drawin’ ’em to? Where is it drawin’ the hull nation to? Is it drawin’ ’em down into a slavery ten times more abject and soul-destroyin’ than African slavery ever wuz? Tell me,” sez I firmly, “tell me!”

He did not try to frame a reply, he could not find a frame. He knowed it wuz a conundrum boundless as truth and God’s justice, and as solemnly deep in its sure consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as that is.

Oh, how solemn he looked, and how sorry I felt for him, for I knowed worse wuz to come, I knowed the sharpest arrow Serepta Pester had sent wuz yet to pierce his sperit. But I sort o’ blunted the edge on’t what I could conscientiously. Sez I, “I think myself Serepta is a little onreasonable, I myself am willin’ to wait three or four weeks. But she’s suffered dretful from intemperance from the Rings and from the want of rights, and her sufferin’s have made her more voylent in her demands and impatienter,” and then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent, and let the sharpest arrow fly from the bo.

“Serepta told me to tell you if you didn’t do these errents you should not be President next year.”

He trembled like a popple leaf, and I felt that Serepta wuz threatenin’ him too hard. Sez he, “I do not wish to be President again, I shall refuse to be nominated. At the same time I _do_ wish to be President and shall work hard for the nomination if you can understand the paradox.”

“Yes,” sez I, “I understand them paradoxes. I’ve lived with ’em as you may say, all through my married life.”

A clock struck in the next room and I knowed time wuz passin’ swift.

Sez the President, “I would be glad to do Serepta’s errents, I think she is justified in askin’ for her rights, and to have the Ring destroyed, but I am not the one to do them.”

Sez I, “Who is the man or men?”

He looked all round the room and up and down as if in hopes he could see someone layin’ round on the floor, or danglin’ from the ceilin’, that would take the responsibility offen him, and in the very nick of time the door opened after a quick rap, and the President jumped up with a relieved look on his linement, and sez:

“Here is the very man to do the errents.” And he hastened to introduce me to the Senator who entered. And then he bid me a hasty adoo, but cordial and polite, and withdrew himself.

V. “HE WUZ DRETFUL POLITE”

I felt glad to have this Senator do Serepta’s errents, but I didn’t like his looks. My land! talk about Serepta Pester bein’ disagreeable, he wuz as disagreeable as she any day. He wuz kinder tall and looked out of his eyes and wore a vest. He wuz some bald-headed, and wore a large smile all the while, it looked like a boughten one that didn’t fit him, but I won’t say it wuz. I presoom he’ll be known by this description. But his baldness didn’t look to me like Josiah Allen’s baldness, and he didn’t have the noble linement of the President, no indeed. He wuz dretful polite, good land! politeness is no name for it, but I don’t like to see anybody too good. He drawed a chair up for me and himself and asked me:

If he should have the inexpressible honor and delightful joy of aiding me in any way, if so to command him to do it or words to that effect. I can’t put down his second-hand smiles and genteel looks and don’t want to if I could.

But tacklin’ hard jobs as I always tackle ’em, I sot down calm in front of him with my umbrell on my lap and told him all of Serepta’s errents, and how I had brought ’em from Jonesville on my tower. I told over all her sufferin’s and wrongs from the Rings and from not havin’ her rights, and all her sister’s Azuba Clapsaddle’s, and her Aunt Cassandra Keeler’s, and Hulda and Drusilly’s and Abagail Flanderses injustices and sufferin’s. I did her errents as honorable as I’d love to have one done for me, I told him all the petickulars, and as I finished I said firmly:

“Now can you do Serepta Pesterses errents and will you?”

He leaned forward with that disagreeable boughten smile of hisen and took up one corner of my mantilly, it wuz cut tab fashion, and he took up the tab and said in a low insinuatin’ voice, lookin’ clost at the edge of the tab:

“Am I mistaken, or is this beautiful creation pipein’ or can it be Kensington tattin’?”

I drawed the tab back coldly and never dained a reply; agin he sez, in a tone of amiable anxiety, “Have I not heard a rumor that bangs are going out of style? I see you do not wear your lovely hair bang-like or a-pompadouris? Ah, women are lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of ’em.” And he sithed, “You are very beautiful,” and he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful lovesick sithe. I sot demute as the Spinks, and a chippin’ bird tappin’ his wing aginst her stuny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk or his sithes. But he kep’ on, puttin’ on a sort of a sad injured look as if my coldness wuz ondoin’ of him.

“My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you a leanin’ toward Natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the habits and traits of our American Wad?”

“What?” sez I. For truly a woman’s curosity, however parlyzed by just indignation, can stand only just so much strain. “The what?”

“The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that tailors make so much use of.”

Sez I, “Do you mean waddin’ eight cents a sheet?”

“Eight cents a pelt—yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the hardy habits of the animal.”

Sez I, “Cease instantly. I will hear no more.”

Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and little talk statesmen will use to wimmen, and I’d hearn of their lies, etc.; but truly I felt that the half had not been told. And then I thought out-loud and sez:

“I’ve hearn how laws of eternal right and justice are sot one side in Washington, D.C., as bein’ too triflin’ to attend to, while the Legislators pondered over and passed laws regardin’ hen’s eggs and bird’s nests. But this is goin’ too fur—too fur. But,” sez I firmly, “I shall do Serepta’s errents, and do ’em to the best of my ability, and you can’t draw off my attention from her wrongs and sufferin’s by talkin’ about wads.”

“I would love to obleege Serepta,” sez he, “because she belongs to such a lovely sect. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that ever walked the earth; they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses.”

Sez I firmly, “They hain’t no such thing; they are disagreeable creeters a good deal of the time. They hain’t no better than men, but they ort to have their rights all the same. Now Serepta is disagreeable and kinder fierce actin’, and jest as humbly as they make wimmen, but that hain’t no sign she ort to be imposed upon; Josiah sez she hadn’t ort to have rights she is so humbly, but I don’t feel so.”

“Who is Josiah?” sez he.

Sez I, “My husband.”

“Ah, your husband! Yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of rights. They do not need rights; they need freedom from all cares and sufferin’. Sweet lovely beings! let them have husbands to lift them above all earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes!” sez he, liftin’ his eyes to the heavens and kinder shettin’ ’em, some as if he wuz goin’ into a spazzum. “Fly around, ye angels, in your native hants; mingle not with rings and vile laws, flee away, flee above them!”

And he kinder waved his hand back and forth in a floatin’ fashion up in the air, as if it wuz a woman flyin’ up there smooth and serene. It would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn’t me. I sez reasonably:

“Serepta would have been glad to flew above ’em, but the Ring and the vile laws lay holt of her onbeknown to her and dragged her down. And there she is all bruised and broken-hearted by ’em. She didn’t meddle with the political Ring, but the Ring meddled with her. How can she fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is holdin’ her down?”

“Ahem!” sez he. “Ahem, as it were. As I was saying, my dear madam, these angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty to mingle with rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are now; we are willing to stand the rude buffetin’ of—of—voting, in order to guard these sweet delicate creatures from any hardships. Sweet tender beings, we would fain guard thee—ah, yes, ah, yes.”

Sez I, “Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase, for such talk is like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral and mental stomach. You know and I know that these angelic tender bein’s, half-clothed, fill our streets on icy midnights, huntin’ up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. They are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want liquor drinkin’ entails. They are starved, they are froze, they are beaten, they are made childless and hopeless by drunken husbands killin’ their own flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves and are drowned by drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death by drunken engineers; they go up on the scaffold and die for crimes committed by the direct aid of this agent of Hell.

“Wimmen had ruther be flyin’ round than to do all this, but they can’t. If men really believed all they say about wimmen, and I think some on ’em do in a dreamy sentimental way—If wimmen are angels, give ’em the rights of angels. Who ever hearn of a angel foldin’ up her wings and goin’ to a poor-house or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever hearn of a angel bein’ dragged off to police court for fightin’ to defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that had broke her wings and blacked her eyes, got the angel into the fight and then she got throwed into the streets and imprisoned by it? Who ever hearn of a angel havin’ to take in washin’ to support a drunken son or father or husband? Who ever hearn of a angel goin’ out as wet-nurse to git money to pay taxes on her home to a Govermunt that in theory idolizes her, and practically despises her, and uses that money in ways abominable to that angel. If you want to be consistent, if you’re bound to make angels of wimmen, you ort to furnish a free safe place for ’em to soar in. You ort to keep the angels from bein’ tormented and bruised and killed, etc.”

“Ahem,” sez he, “as it were, ahem.”

But I kep’ right on, for I begun to feel noble and by the side of myself:

“This talk about wimmen bein’ outside and above all participation in the laws of her country, is jest as pretty as anything I ever hearn, and jest as simple. Why, you might jest as well throw a lot of snowflakes into the street, and say, ‘Some of ’em are female flakes and mustn’t be trompled on.’ The great march of life tromples on ’em all alike; they fall from one common sky, and are trodden down into one common ground.

“Men and wimmen are made with divine impulses and desires, and human needs and weaknesses, needin’ the same heavenly light, and the same human aids and helps. The law should mete out to them the same rewards and punishments.

“Serepta sez you call wimmen angels, and you don’t give ’em the rights of the lowest beasts that crawl on the earth. And Serepta told me to tell you that she didn’t ask the rights of a angel; she would be perfectly contented and proud, if you would give her the rights of a dog—the assured political rights of a yeller dog.’ She said yeller and I’m bound on doin’ her ’errent jest as she wanted it done, word for word.

“A dog, Serepta sez, don’t have to be hung if it breaks the laws it is not allowed any hand in making; a dog don’t have to pay taxes on its bone to a Govermunt that withholds every right of citizenship from it; a dog hain’t called undogly if it is industrious and hunts quietly round for its bone to the best of its ability, and tries to git its share of the crumbs that falls from that table bills are laid on.

“A dog hain’t preached to about its duty to keep home sweet and sacred, and then see that home turned into a place of danger and torment under laws that these very preachers have made legal and respectable. A dog don’t have to see its property taxed to advance laws it believes ruinous, and that breaks its own heart and the heart of other dear dogs. A dog don’t have to listen to soul-sickening speeches from them that deny it freedom and justice, about its bein’ a damask rose and a seraph, when it knows it hain’t; it knows, if it knows anything, that it is jest a plain dog.