Beauty and the Beast, and Tales of HomeTaylor, Bayard
General
Beauty and the Beast, and Tales of Home
Taylor, Bayard
Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
I thought, last fall, that my Maria, who is German, would have voted
with us. I stayed at home and did the work myself, on purpose that she
might hear the oration of Carl Schurz; but old Hammer, who keeps the
lager-beer saloon in the upper end of Burroak, gave a supper and a
dance to all the German girls and their beaux, after the meeting, and
so managed to secure nine out of ten of their votes for Seymour. Maria
proposed going away a week before election, up into Decatur County,
where, she said, some relations, just arrived from Bavaria, had settled.
I was obliged to let her go, or lose her altogether, but I was comforted
by the thought that if her vote were lost for Grant, at least it could
not be given to Seymour. After the election was over, and Decatur
County, which we had always managed to carry hitherto, went against
us, the whole matter was explained. About five hundred girls, we were
informed, had been COLONIZED in private families, as extra help, for a
fortnight, and of course Maria was one of them. (I have looked at
the addresses of her letters, ever since, and not one has she sent
to Decatur). A committee has been appointed, and a report made on the
election frauds in our State, and we shall see, I suppose, whether any
help comes of it.
Now, you mustn't think, from all this, that I am an apostate from the
principle of Women's Rights. No, indeed! All the trouble we have had,
as I think will be evident to the millions who read my words, comes from
THE MEN. They have not only made politics their monopoly, but they have
fashioned it into a tremendous, elaborate system, in which there is
precious little of either principle or honesty. We can and we MUST “run
the machine” (to use another of their vulgar expressions) with them,
until we get a chance to knock off the useless wheels and thingumbobs,
and scour the whole concern, inside and out. Perhaps the men themselves
would like to do this, if they only knew how: men have so little talent
for cleaning-up. But when it comes to making a litter, they're at home,
let me tell you!
Meanwhile, in our State, things are about as bad as they can be.
The women are drawn for juries, the same as ever, but (except in
Whittletown, where they have a separate room,) no respectable woman
goes, and the fines come heavy on some of us. The demoralization among
our help is so bad, that we are going to try Co-operative Housekeeping.
If that don't succeed, I shall get brother Samuel, who lives in
California, to send me two Chinamen, one for cook and chamber-boy, and
one as nurse for Melissa. I console myself with thinking that the end of
it all must be good, since the principle is right: but, dear me! I had
no idea that I should be called upon to go through such tribulation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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