“All genteel wimmen dote on dogs.” And she added, in still more tremblin’ tones, as she see me meun keep a growin’ awfuller and awfuller every minute. “Nothin’ gives a woman such a genteel air as to lead ’em round with a ribbon.” And, she added, still a-keepin’ her eye on my meun: “I always know a woman is genteel, the minute I see her a-leadin’ ’em round, and I never have been mistaken once. And the more genteel a woman is, the more poodle dogs they have to dote on.” I didn’t say a word to Delila Ann, nor the hull set on ’em. But my emotion riz up so that I spoke up loud to myself, unbeknown to me. I episoded to myself, almost mechanically, in a low, deep voice: “Father’s bein’ killed with labor, and a world layin’ in wickedness, and wimmens dotin’ on dogs. Hundreds of thousands of houseless and homeless children—little fair souls bein’ blackened by vice and ignorance, with a black that can’t never be rubbed off this side of heaven, and immortal wimmen spending their hull energies in keepin’ a pup’s hair white. Little tender feet bein’ led down into the mire and clay, that might be guided up to heaven’s door, and wimmen utterly refusin’ to notice ’em, so rampant and set on leadin’ round a pup by a string. Good land!” says I; “it makes me angry to think on’t.” And I pulled out my white linen handkerchief and wiped my ferwerd almost wildly. I s’pose my warm emotions had melted down my icy meun a very little, for Delila spoke up in a chokin’ voice, and says she: “If you was one of the genteel kind, you would feel different about it, I mistrust,” says she, a-tryin’ to scorn me. “I mistrust that you haint genteel.” Says I, “That don’t scorn me a mite.” Says I, “I hate that word, and always did.” Says I, still more warmly, “There are two words in the English language that I feel cold and almost haughty toward, and they are: Affinity, such as married folks hunt after; and Genteel. I wish,” says I, almost eloquent, “I wish those words would join hands and elope the country. I’d love to see their backs as they set out, and bid ’em a glad farewell.” She see she hadn’t skeert me. They didn’t say a word. And then the thought of my mission governed me to that extent, that I rose up my voice to a high, noble key, and went on, wavin’ my right hand in as eloquent a wave as I had by me, and I keep awful eloquent waves a purpose to use on occasions like these. Says I: “I am a woman that has got a vow on me; I am a Premiscues Adviser in the cause of Right, and I can’t shirk out when duty is a-pokin’ me in the side. I must speak my mind, though I hate to like a dog. And I say unto you, Delila Ann, and the hull eight of you, premiscues, that if you would take off some of your bebinet lace, empty your laps of pups and dime novels, and go to work and lift some of the burden from the breakin’ back of Melankton Spicer, you would rise from twenty-five to fifty cents to my estimation, and I don’t know but more.”