Sez I, “I believe that Voice almost always comes to us in the supreme moments of our greatest need. When we have been mournin’ as Daniel had, and ‘eaten no pleasant bread,’ and lay with our faces on the ground by the deep waters, then comes One to us, onseen by them about us, and touches our bowed heads and sez: “‘Belovéd, fear not. Peace be unto thee. Be strong. Yea, be strong.’” And then we went on and talked considerable, and she told me how her mother had read to her, as soon as she wuz able to understand anything, all about the prophets, and how she had always loved to think about ’em and their divine work. And I told her I felt jest so; I thought they wuz likely old creeters, them and their wives too. And Genieve looked up dretful startled and surprised, and said she had never thought about their wives, not at all. And I sez, “Like enough, nobody duz. Nobody ever did think anything about old Miss Daniel, or Miss Zekiel, or any of ’em. Nobody ever thought of givin’ the wimmen any credit, but they deserve it,” sez I. “I believe they wuz likely old females, every one of ’em.” Genieve still looked dretful wonderin’, and as if I had put a bran new idee into her head. As much as she had pondered and studied them prophets, she never had gin a thought to them good old females—faithful, hard-workin’ creeters, I believe they wuz. And she sez, sez she, “I never thought anything about them, whether they had any troubles or not.” “No,” sez I, “I spoze not, but I believe they had ’em, and I believe they had a tuckerin’ time on’t more’n half the time. “Why,” sez I, “it stands to reason they had. While their husbands wuz a sallyin’ out a prophesyin’, somebody had to stay to home and work, split kindlin’ wood, etc.” Genieve looked kinder shocked, and I sez warmly: “Not but what I think a sight of them old prophets, sights of ’em. My soul burns within me, or almost burns, a thinkin’ of them old men of whom the world wuz not worthy, who _had_ to tell the secret things that the Lord had revealed to ’em to the ears of a blasphemin’ and gainsayin’ world. I jest about worship ’em when I think of their trials, their persecutions, their death for duty’s sake. “But while I honor them old men up to the very highest pint honor can go in a human breast, still I have feelin’s for their wives—I can’t help feelin’ sorry for them poor old creeters. “Not a word do we hear about them, and it makes me feel bad to see my sect so overlooked and brought down to nort. “And I’ll bet (or would bet if it wuzn’t for principle) that old Miss Daniel, and Miss Zekiel, and Miss Hosey, and Miss Maleky, and all the rest of them old female wimmen had a tough time on’t. “Why, if there wuzn’t anything else to trouble ’em, it wuz enough to kill any woman to see the torment and persecutions that follered on after the man she loved. To see ’em wanderin’ about in sheepskin and goatskin, and bein’ afflicted, and destitute, and tormented.