“Nor I nuther,” says Josiah, “she haint got the rekrisite strength to vote, she is too fraguile.”
Jest at this minute the boy that draws the milk came along, and Josiah, says he to me, “I am in my stockin’ feet, Samantha, can’t you jest step out and help Thomas Jefferson on with the can?”
Says I, “If I am too fraguile to handle a paper vote, Josiah Allen, I am too fraguile to lift 100 and 50 pounds of milk.”
He didn’t say nothin’, but he slipped on his rubbers and started out, and Betsey resumed, “It is so revoltin’ to female delicacy to go to the poles and vote; most all of the female ladies that revolve around in the high circles of Jonesville aristocracy agree with me in thinkin’ it is real revoltin’ to female delicacy to vote.”
“Female delicacy!” says I, in a austeer tone. “Is female delicacy a plant that withers in the shadder of the pole, but flourishes in every other condition only in the shadder of the pole?” says I in a tone of witherin’ scorn. “Female delicacy flourishes in a ball room, where these sensitive creeters with dresses on indecently low in the neck, will waltz all night with strange men’s arms round their waists,” says I. “You have as good as throwed it in my face, Betsey Bobbet, that I haint a modest woman, or I would be afraid to go and vote; but you ketch me with a low neck dress on, Betsey Bobbet, and you will ketch me on my way to the Asylum, and there haint a old deacon, or minister, or presidin’ Elder in the Methodist church, that could get me to waltz with ’em, let alone waltzin’ with promiscuus sinners. And,” says I in the deep, calm tone of settled principle, “if you don’t believe it, bring on your old deacons and ministers, and presidin’ Elders, and try me.”
“You are gettin’ excited, Samantha,” says Josiah.
“You jest keep blackin’ your boots, Josiah Allen, I haint a talkin’ to you. Betsey, is it any worse for a female woman to dress herself in a modest and Christian manner, with a braige viel over her face, and a brass mounted parasol in her hand, and walk decently to the pole and lay her vote on it, than to be introduced to a man, who for all you know may be a retired pirate, and have him walk up and hug you by the hour, to the music of a fiddle and a base violin?”