Josiah come home from Jonesville one day, all wrought up. He’d took off a big crate of eggs and got returns from several crates he’d sent to New York, an’ he sez to me:
“That consarned Middleman is cheatin’ me the worst kind. I know the yaller Plymouth Rock eggs ort to bring mor’n the white Leghorns; they’re bigger and it stands to reason they’re worth more, and he don’t give nigh so much. I believe he eats ’em himself and that’s why he wants to git ’em cheaper.”
“No Middleman,” sez I, “could eat fifty dozen a week.”
“He could if he eat enough at one time. ’Tennyrate, I’m goin’ to New York to see about it.”
“When are you goin’?” sez I.
“I’m goin’ to-morrow mornin’. I’m goin’ in onexpected and I lay out to catch him devourin’ them big eggs himself.”
“Oh, shaw!” sez I. “The idee!”
“Well, I say the Trusts and Middlemen are dishonest as the old Harry. Don’t you remember what one on ’em writ to Uncle Sime Bentley and what he writ back? He’d sent a great load of potatoes to him and he didn’t get hardly anything for ’em, only their big bill for sellin’ ’em. They charged him for freightage, carage, storage, porterage, weightage, and to make their bill longer, they put in ratage and satage.
“Uncle Sime writ back ‘You infarnel thief, you, put in “stealage” and keep the whole on’t.’”
But I sez, “They’re not all dishonest. There are good men among ’em as well as bad.”
“Well, I lay out to see to it myself, and if they ever charge me for ‘ratage’ and ‘satage’ I’m goin’ to see what they are, and how they look.”
“Well,” sez I, “if you’re bound to go, I’ll get up and get a good breakfast and go with you.” It was the day of the Woman’s Suffrage Parade and I wanted to see it. I wanted to like a dog, and had ever since I hearn of it. Though some of the Jonesvillians felt different. The Creation Searchin’ Society wuz dretful exercised about it. The President’s stepma is a strong She Aunty and has always ruled Philander with an iron hand. I’ve always noticed that women who didn’t want any rights always took the right to have their own way. But ’tennyrate Philander come up a very strong He Aunty. And he felt that the Creation Searchers ort to go to New York that day to assist the Aunties in sneerin’ at the marchers, writin’ up the parade, and helpin’ count ’em. Philander wuz always good at figures, specially at subtraction, and he and his Step Ma thought he ort to be there to help.
I told Josiah I guessed the She Aunties didn’t need no help at that.
But Philander called a meetin’ of the Creation Searchers to make arrangements to go. And I spoze the speech he made at the meetin’ wuz a powerful effort. And the members most all on ’em believin’ as he did—they said it wuz a dretful interestin’ meetin’. Sunthin’ like a love feast, only more wrought up and excitin’.
The editor of the Auger printed the whole thing in his paper, and said it give a staggerin’ blow agin Woman’s Suffrage, and he didn’t know but it wuz a death blow—he hoped it wuz.
“A Woman’s Parade,” sez Philander, “is the most abominable sight ever seen on our planetary system. Onprotected woman dressed up in fine clothes standin’ up on her feet, and paradin’ herself before strange men. Oh! how bold! Oh! how onwomanly! No wonder,” says he, “the She Aunties are shocked at the sight, and say they marched to attract the attention of men. Why can’t women stay to home and set down and knit? And then men would love ’em. But if they keep on with these bold, forward actions, men won’t love ’em, and they will find out so. And it has always been, and is now, man’s greatest desire and chiefest aim he has aimed at, to protect women, to throw the shinin’ mantilly of his constant devotion about her delikit form and shield her and guard her like the very apples in his eyes.
“Woman is too sweet and tender a flower to have any such hardship put upon her, and it almost crazes a man, and makes him temporarily out of his head, to see women do anything to hazard that inheriant delicacy of hern, that always appealed so to the male man.
“Let us go forth, clad in our principles (and ordinary clothing, of course), and show just where we stand on the woman question, and do all we can to assist the gentle feminine She Aunties. Lovely, retirin’ females whose pictures we so often see gracin’ the sensational newspapers. Their white womanly neck and shoulders, glitterin’ with jewels, no brighter than their eyes. They don’t appear there for sex appeal, or to win admiration. No indeed! No doubt they shrink from the publicity. And also shrink from making speeches in the Senate chambers or the halls of Justice, but will do so, angelic martyrs that they are, to hold their erring Suffrage sisters back from their brazen efforts at publicity and public speakin’.”
They said his speech wuz cheered wildly, give out for publication, and entered into the moments of the Society.
But after all, it happened real curious the day of the Parade every leadin’ Creation Searcher had some impediment in his way, and couldn’t go, and of course, the Society didn’t want to go without its leaders.
Mis’ Philander Daggett, the president’s wife, wuz paperin’ her settin’ room and parlor overhead. She wuz expectin’ company and couldn’t put it off. And bein’ jest married, and thinkin’ the world of her, Philander said he dassent leave home for fear she’d fall offen the barrel and break her neck. She had a board laid acrost two barrels to stand up on. And every day Philander would leave his outside work and come into the house, and set round and watch her—he thought so much of her. I suppose he wanted to catch her if she fell. But I didn’t think she would fall. She is young and tuff, and she papered it real good, though it wuz dretful hard on her arm sockets and back.
And the Secretary’s wife wuz puttin’ in a piece of onions. She thought she would make considerable by it, and she will, if onions keep up. But it is turrible hard on a woman’s back to weed ’em. But she is ambitious; she raised a flock of fifty-six turkeys last year besides doin’ her house work, and makin’ seventy-five yards of rag carpet. And she thought onions wouldn’t be so wearin’ on her as turkeys, for onions, she said, will stay where they are put, but turkeys are born wanderers and hikers. And they led her through sun and rain, swamp and swale, uphill and downhill, a-chasin’ ’em up, but she made well by ’em. Well, in puttin’ in her onion seed, she overworked herself and got a crick in her back, so she couldn’t stir hand nor foot for two days. And bein’ only just them two, her husband had to stay home to see to things.
And the Treasurer’s wife is canvassin’ for the life of William J. Bryan. And wantin’ to make all she could, she took a longer tramp than common, and didn’t hear of the Parade or meetin’ of the C.S.S. at all. She writ home a day or two before the meetin’, that she wuz goin’ as long as her legs held out, and they needn’t write to her, for she didn’t know where she would be.
Well, of course, the Creation Searchers didn’t want to go without their officers. They said they couldn’t make no show if they did. So they give up goin’. But I spoze they made fun of the Woman’s Parade amongst theirselves, and mourned over their indelikit onwomanly actions, and worried about it bein’ too hard for ’em, and sneered at ’em considerable.
Well, Josiah always loves to have me with him, an’ though he’d made light of the Parade, he didn’t object to my goin’. And suffice it to say that we arrove at that Middleman’s safe and sound, though why we didn’t git lost in that grand immense depo and wander ’round there all day like babes in the woods, is more’n I can tell.
The Middleman wuzn’t dishonest: he convinced Josiah on it. He had shipped the colored eggs somewhere, and of course he couldn’t pay as much, and he never had hearn of Ratage or Satage. He wuz a real pleasant Middleman, and hearing me say how much I wanted to see the Woman’s Parade, he invited us to go upstairs and set by a winder, where there was a good view on’t. We’d eat our lunch on the train and we accepted his invitation, and sot down by a winder then and there, though it wuz a hour or so before the time sot for the Parade. And I should have taken solid comfort watchin’ the endless procession of men and women and vehicles of all sorts and descriptions, but Josiah made so many slightin’ remarks on the dress of the females passin’ below on the sidewalk, that it made me feel bad. And to tell the truth, though I didn’t think best to own up to it to him, I did blush for my sect to see the way some on ’em rigged themselves out.
“See that thing!” Josiah sez, as a woman passed by with her hat drawed down over one eye, and a long quill standin’ out straight behind more’n a foot, an’ her dress puckered in so ’round the bottom, she couldn’t have took a long step if a mad dog wuz chasin’ her—to say nothin’ of bein’ perched up on such high heels, that she fairly tottled when she walked.
Sez Josiah: “Does that thing know enough to vote?”
“No,” sez I, reasonably, “she don’t. But most probable if she had bigger things to think about she’d loosen the puckerin’ strings ’round her ankles, push her hat back out of her eyes, an’ get down on her feet again.”
“Why, Samantha,” says he, “if you had on one of them skirts tied ’round your ankles, if I wuz a-dyin’ on the upper shelf in the buttery, you couldn’t step up on a chair to get to me to save your life, an’ I’d have to die there alone.”
“Why should you be dyin’ on the buttery shelf, Josiah?” sez I.
“Oh, that wuz jest a figger of speech, Samantha.”
“But folks ort to be mejum in figgers of speech, Josiah, and not go too fur.”
“Do you think, Samantha, that anybody can go too fur in describin’ them fool skirts, and them slit skirts, and the immodesty and indecensy of some of them dresses?”
“I don’t know as they can,” sez I, sadly.
“Jest look at that thing,” sez he again.
And as I looked, the hot blush of shame mantillied my cheeks, for I felt that my sect was disgraced by the sight. She wuz real pretty, but she didn’t have much of any clothes on, and what she did wear wuzn’t in the right place; not at all.
Sez Josiah, “That girl would look much more modest and decent if she wuz naked, for then she might be took for a statute.”
And I sez, “I don’t blame the good Priest for sendin’ them away from the Lord’s table, sayin’, ‘I will give no communion to a Jezabel.’ And the pity of it is,” sez I, “lots of them girls are innocent and don’t realize what construction will be put on the dress they blindly copy from some furrin fashion plate.”
Then quite an old woman passed by, also robed or disrobed in the prevailin’ fashion, and Josiah sez, soty vosy, “I should think she wuz old enough to know sunthin’. Who wants to see her old bones?” And he sez to me, real uppish, “Do you think them things know enough to vote?”
But jest then a young man went by dressed fashionably, but if he hadn’t had the arm of a companion, he couldn’t have walked a step; his face wuz red and swollen, and dissipated, and what expression wuz left in his face wuz a fool expression, and both had cigarettes in their mouths, and I sez, “Does that thing know enough to vote?” And jest behind them come a lot of furrin laborers, rough and rowdy-lookin’, with no more expression in their faces than a mule or any other animal. “Do they know enough to vote?” sez I. “As for the fitness for votin’ it is pretty even on both sides. Good intelligent men ortn’t to lose the right of suffrage for the vice and ignorance of some of their sect, and that argument is jest as strong for the other sect.”
But before Josiah could reply, we hearn the sound of gay music, and the Parade began to march on before us. First a beautiful stately figure seated fearlessly on a dancin’ horse, that tossted his head as if proud of the burden he wuz carryin’. She managed the prancin’ steed with one hand, and with the other held aloft the flag of our country. Jest as women ort to, and have to. They have got to manage wayward pardners, children and domestics who, no matter how good they are, will take their bits in their mouths, and go sideways some of the time, but can be managed by a sensible, affectionate hand, and with her other hand at the same time she can carry her principles aloft, wavin’ in every domestic breeze, frigid or torrid, plain to be seen by everybody.
Then come the wives and relations of Senators and Congressmen, showin’ that bein’ right on the spot they knowed what wimmen needed. Then the wimmen voters from free Suffrage states, showin’ by their noble looks that votin’ hadn’t hurt ’em any. They carried the most gorgeous banner in the whole Parade. Then the Wimmen’s Political Union, showin’ plain in their faces that understandin’ the laws that govern her ain’t goin’ to keep woman from looking beautiful and attractive.
On and on they come, gray-headed women and curly-headed children from every station in life: the millionairess by the working woman, and the fashionable society woman by the business one. Two women on horseback, and one blowin’ a bugle, led the way for the carriage of Madam Antoinette Blackwell. I wonder if she ever dreamed when she wuz tryin’ to climb the hill of knowledge through the thorny path of sex persecution, that she would ever have a bugle blowed in front of her, to honor her for her efforts, and form a part of such a glorious Parade of the sect she give her youth and strength to free.
How they swept on, borne by the waves of music, heralded by wavin’ banners of purple and white and gold, bearin’ upliftin’ and noble mottoes. Physicians, lawyers, nurses, authors, journalists, artists, social workers, dressmakers, milliners, women from furrin countries dressed in their quaint costumes, laundresses, clerks, shop girls, college girls, all bearin’ the pennants and banners of their different colleges: Vassar, Wellesley, Smith, etc., etc. High-school pupils, Woman’s Suffrage League, Woman’s Social League, and all along the brilliant line each division dressed in beautiful costumes and carryin’ their own gorgeous banners. And anon or oftener all along the long, long procession bands of music pealin’ out high and sweet, as if the Spirit of Music, who is always depictered as a woman, was glad and proud to do honor to her own sect. And all through the Parade you could see every little while men on foot and on horseback, not a great many, but jest enough to show that the really noble men wuz on their side. For, as I’ve said more formally, that is one of the most convincin’ arguments for Woman’s Suffrage. In fact, it don’t need any other. That bad men fight against Women’s Suffrage with all their might.
Down by the big marble library, the grand-stand wuz filled with men seated to see their wives march by on their road to Victory. I hearn and believe, they wuz a noble-lookin’ set of men. They had seen their wives in the past chasin’ Fashion and Amusement, and why shouldn’t they enjoy seein’ them follow Principle and Justice? Well, I might talk all day and not begin to tell of the beauty and splendor of the Woman’s Parade. And the most impressive sight to me wuz to see how the leaven of individual right and justice had entered into all these different classes of society, and how their enthusiasm and earnestness must affect every beholder.
And in my mind I drawed pictures of the different modes of our American women and our English sisters, each workin’ for the same cause, but in what a different manner. Of course, our English sisters may have more reason for their militant doin’s; more unjust laws regarding marriage—divorce, and care of children, and I can’t blame them married females for wantin’ to control their own money, specially if they earnt it by scrubbin’ floors and washin’. I can’t blame ’em for not wantin’ their husbands to take that money from them and their children, specially if they’re loafers and drunkards. And, of course, there are no men so noble and generous as our American men. But jest lookin’ at the matter from the outside and comparin’ the two, I wuz proud indeed of our Suffragists.
While our English sisters feel it their duty to rip and tear, burn and pillage, to draw attention to their cause, and reach the gole (which I believe they have sot back for years) through the smoke and fire of carnage, our American Suffragettes employ the gentle, convincin’ arts of beauty and reason. Some as the quiet golden sunshine draws out the flowers and fruit from the cold bosom of the earth. Mindin’ their own business, antagonizin’ and troublin’ no one, they march along and show to every beholder jest how earnest they be. They quietly and efficiently answer that argument of the She Auntys, that women don’t want to vote, by a parade two hours in length, of twenty thousand. They answer the argument that the ballot would render women careless in dress and reckless, by organizin’ and carryin’ on a parade so beautiful, so harmonious in color and design that it drew out enthusiastic praise from even the enemies of Suffrage. They quietly and without argument answered the old story that women was onbusiness-like and never on time, by startin’ the Parade the very minute it was announced, which you can’t always say of men’s parades.
It wuz a burnin’ hot day, and many who’d always argued that women hadn’t strength enough to lift a paper ballot, had prophesied that woman wuz too delicately organized, too “fraguile,” as Betsy Bobbet would say, to endure the strain of the long march in the torrid atmosphere.
But I told Josiah that women had walked daily over the burning plow shares of duty and domestic tribulation, till their feet had got calloused, and could stand more’n you’d think for.
And he said he didn’t know as females had any more burnin’ plow shares to tread on than men had.
And I sez, “I didn’t say they had, Josiah. I never wanted women to get more praise or justice than men. I simply want ’em to get as much—just an even amount; for,” sez I, solemnly, “‘male and female created He them.’”
Josiah is a deacon, and when I quote Scripture, he has to listen respectful, and I went on: “I guess it wuz a surprise even to the marchers that of all the ambulances that kept alongside the Parade to pick up faint and swoonin’ females, the only one occupied wuz by a man.”
Josiah denied it, but I sez, “I see his boots stickin’ out of the ambulance myself.” Josiah couldn’t dispute that, for he knows I am truthful. But he sez, sunthin’ in the sperit of two little children I hearn disputin’. Sez one: “It wuzn’t so; you’ve told a lie.”
“Well,” sez the other, “You broke a piece of china and laid it to me.”
Sez Josiah, “You may have seen a pair of men’s boots a-stickin’ out of the ambulance, but I’ll bet they didn’t have heels on ’em a inch broad, and five or six inches high.”
“No, Josiah,” sez I, “you’re right. Men think too much of their comfort and health to hist themselves up on such little high tottlin’ things, and you didn’t see many on ’em in the Parade.”
But he went on drivin’ the arrow of higher criticism still deeper into my onwillin’ breast. “I’ll bet you didn’t see his legs tied together at the ankles, or his trouses slit up the sides to show gauze stockin’s and anklets and diamond buckles. And you didn’t see my sect who honored the Parade by marchin’ in it, have a goose quill half a yard long, standin’ up straight in the air from a coal-scuttle hat, or out sideways, a hejus sight, and threatenin’ the eyes of friend and foe.”
“And you didn’t see many on ’em in the Parade,” sez I agin. “Women, as they march along to Victory, have got to drop some of these senseless things. In fact, they are droppin’ em. You don’t see waists now the size of a hour glass. It is gettin’ fashionable to breathe now, and women on their way to their gole will drop by the way their high heels; it will git fashionable to walk comfortable, and as they’ve got to take some pretty long steps to reach the ballot in 1916, it stands to reason they’ve got to have a skirt wide enough at the bottom to step up on the gole of Victory. It is a high step, Josiah, but women are goin’ to take it. They’ve always tended to cleanin’ their own house, and makin’ it comfortable and hygenic for its members, big and little. And when they turn their minds onto the best way to clean the National house both sects have to live in to make it clean and comfortable and safe for the weak and helpless as well as for the strong—it stands to reason they won’t have time or inclination to stand up on stilts with tied-in ankles, quilled out like savages.”
“Well,” said Josiah, with a dark, forebodin’ look on his linement, “we shall see.”
“Yes,” sez I, with a real radiant look into the future. “We shall see, Josiah.”
But he didn’t have no idea of the beautiful prophetic vision I beheld with the eyes of my sperit. Good men and good women, each fillin’ their different spears in life, but banded together for the overthrow of evil, the uplift of the race.
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