I see she was dissapointed in my looks. She looked dreadful kinder scornful down onto my plain alpaca, which was made of a sensible length. Hers hung down on the carpet. I’ll bet there was more’n a bushel basket of puckers and ruffles that trailed down on to the floor behind her, besides all there was on the skirt and waist.
She never said a word about my dress, but I see she looked awful scornful on to it. But she went on to talk about Wimmen’s Rights, and I see she was one of the wild eyed ones, that don’t use no reason. I see here was another chance for me to do good--to act up to principle. And as she give another humiliatin’ look onto my dress, I become fully determined in my own mind, that I wouldn’t shirk out from doin’ my duty by her, and tell her jest what I thought of her looks. She said she had just returned from a lecturin’ tower out in the Western States, and that she had addressed a great many audiences, and had come pretty near gettin’ a Wimmen’s Rights Governor chosen in one of the States. She got to kinder preachin’ after a while, and stood lookin’ up towards the cealin’, and her hands stretched out as if she was a lecturin’. Says she,
“Tyrant man shan’t never rule us.” Says I, “I haint no objection to your makin’ tyrant man better, if you can--there is a chance for improvement in ’em--but while we are handlin’ ‘motes,’ sister, let us remember that we have got considerable to do in the line of ‘beams.’” Says I, “To see a lot of immortal wimmen together, sometimes, you would think the Lord had forgot to put any brains into their heads, but had filled it all up with dress patterns, and gossip, and beaux, and tattan.”
“Tyrant man has encouraged this weakness of intellect. He has for ages made woman a plaything; a doll; a menial slave. He has encouraged her weakness of comprehension, because it flattered his self love and vanity, to be looked up to as a superior bein’. He has enjoyed her foolishness.”
“No doubt there is some truth in what you say, sister, but them days are past. A modest, intelligent woman is respected and admired now, more than a fool. It is so in London and New York village, and,” says I with some modesty, “it is so in Jonesville.”
“Tyrant man,” begun the woman agin. “Tyrant man thinks that wimmen are weak, slavish idiots, that don’t know enough to vote. But them tyrants will find themselves mistaken.”