“Now to the practical application. You, Mr. Wrangle, and you, Mr. Tumbrill, want to be elected to Congress. The district is a close one: you have both counted the votes in advance (oh, I know your secrets!) and there isn't a difference of a hundred in your estimates. A very little will turn the scale either way. Perhaps a woman's influence--perhaps my voice--might do it. But I will give you an equal chance. So much power is left to woman, despite what you withhold, that we, the women of Putnam, Shinnebaug, and Rancocus counties, are able to decide which of you shall be elected. Either of you would give a great deal to have a majority of the intelligent women of the District on your side: it would already be equivalent to success. Now, to show that we understand the political business from which you have excluded us--to prove that we are capable of imitating the noble example of MEN--we offer to sell our influence, as they their votes, to the highest bidder!” There was great shouting and cheering among the people at this, but the two candidates, somehow or other, didn't seem much amused. “I stand here,” she continued, “in the interest of my struggling sisters, and with authority to act for them. Which of you will bid the most--not in offices or material advantages, as is the way of your parties, but in the way of help to the Woman's Cause? Which of you will here publicly pledge himself to say a word for us, from now until election-day, whenever he appears upon the stump?” There was repeated cheering, and cries of “Got 'em there!” (Men are so vulgar). “I pause for a reply. Shall they not answer me?” she continued, turning to the audience. Then there were tremendous cries of “Yes! yes! Wrangle! Tumbrill!” Mr. Wrangle looked at Mr. Tumbrill, and made a motion with his head, signifying that he should speak. Then Mr. Tumbrill looked at Mr. Wrangle, and made a motion that HE should speak. The people saw all this, and laughed and shouted as if they would never finish. Mr. Wrangle, on second thoughts (this is my private surmise), saw that boldness would just then be popular; so he stepped forward. “Do I understand,” he said, “that my fair and eloquent friend demands perfect political and civil equality for her sex?” “I do!” exclaimed Selina Whiston, in her firmest manner. “Let me be more explicit,” he continued. “You mean precisely the same rights, the same duties, the same obligations, the same responsibilities?” She repeated the phrases over after him, affirmatively, with an emphasis which I never heard surpassed. “Pardon me once more,” said Mr. Wrangle; “the right to vote, to hold office, to practise law, theology, medicine, to take part in all municipal affairs, to sit on juries, to be called upon to aid in the execution of the law, to aid in suppressing disturbances, enforcing public order, and performing military duty?”