Feminism -- Fiction; Sex role -- Fiction; Women's rights -- Fiction
But here an old man, who had jest dropped in and who wuz kinder deef
and slow-witted, asked, “What it is about anyway? what do the wimmen
ask for when they are pounded and jailed and starved?”
Hank Yerden, whose wife is a Suffragist, and who is mistrusted to have
a leanin’ that way himself, answered him, “Oh, they wanted the
lawmakers to read their petitions asking for the rights of ordinary
citizens. They said as long as their property wuz taxed they had the
right of representation. And as long as the law punished wimmen equally
with men, they had a right to help make that law, and as long as men
claimed wimmen’s place wuz home, they wanted the right to guard that
home. And as long as they brought children into the world they wanted
the right to protect ’em. And when the lawmakers wouldn’t hear a word
they said, and beat ’em and drove ’em round and jailed ’em, they got
mad as hens, and are actin’ like furiation and wild cats. But claim
that civil rights wuz never give to any class without warfare.”
“Heavens! what doin’s!” sez old Zephaniah Beezum, “what is the world
comin’ to!” “Angle worms will be risin’ up next and demandin’ to not be
trod on.” Sez he, “I have studied the subject on every side, and I
claim the best way to deal with them militant females is to banish ’em
to some barren wilderness, some foreign desert where they can meditate
on their crimes, and not bother men.”
This idee wuz received favorably by most of the members, but others
differed and showed the weak p’ints in it, and it wuz gin up.
Well, at ten P.M., the Creation Searchers gin up after arguin’ pro and
con, con and pro, that they could not see any way out of the matter,
they could not tell what to do with the wimmen without danger and
trouble to the male sect.
They looked dretful dejected and onhappy as they come to this
conclusion, my pardner looked as if he wuz most ready to bust out
cryin’. And as I looked on his beloved linement I forgot everything
else and onbeknown to me I leaned over the railin’ and sez:
“Here is sunthin’ that no one has seemed to think on at home or abroad.
How would it work to stop the trouble by givin’ the wimmen the rights
they ask for, the rights of any other citizen?”
I don’t spoze there will ever be such another commotion and upheaval in
Jonesville till Michael blows his last trump as follered my speech.
Knowin’ wimmen wuz kep’ from the meetin’, some on ’em thought it wuz a
voice from another spear. Them wuz the skairt and horrow struck ones,
and them that thought it wuz a earthly woman’s voice wuz so mad that
they wuz by the side of themselves and carried on fearful. But when
they searched the gallery for wimmen or ghosts, nothin’ wuz found, for
Philander’s wife and I had scooted acrost lots and wuz to home
a-knittin’ before the men got there.
And I d’no as anybody but Philander to this day knows what, or who it
wuz.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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