"Well, of course, Katharine," he said testily, "there hain't been as many girls. For that matter there warn't the female colleges to send 'em to fifty years ago; but you know yourself there hain't been the means to send 'em both, the boys _and_ the girls, and if it couldn't be but one--"
He paused to moisten his lips, and she took up the word with an accent of intense bitterness. "If there couldn't be but one, it must be the boy, of course,--always the boy. Oh, I know! Yes, and I know how the girls 'n' their mothers have slaved to send 'em. It ain't the men that have learned how to get more out of the farms; it's the women that have learned how to get along with less in the house. There was Abner Sickles! Yes, there was; and there was his sister Abigail, too. I went to school with 'em both. She was enough sight smarter 'n he was; always could see into things quicker, 'n' handle 'em better, but they took a notion to send him to college,--wanted to make a minister of him,--and she stopped going to school when she was fourteen, and did the housework for the family,--her mother was always sickly,--and then sat up nights, sewing straw and binding shoes to earn money for Abner." She paused, with a note in her voice which suggested a clutch at the throat, then added: "She died when she was twenty. Went crazy the last part of the time, and thought she'd committed the unpardonable sin. It's my opinion somebody _had_ committed it; but 'twarn't her."
It was the old gentleman who was moving uneasily now. "It was too bad about Abigail," he said, with a shake of the head. "I remember her case, and 'twas one of the strangest we ever had in the church. I went out to see her once, with two of the other deacons, and we set out the doctrine of the unpardonable sin clear and strong, and showed her that if she really _had_ committed it she wouldn't be feeling so bad about it--she'd have her conscience seared as with a hot iron; but she couldn't seem to lay hold of any comfort. However, it was plain that her mind wasn't right, and I don't believe the Lord held her responsible for her lack of faith."
The old woman gave an impatient snort. "If he didn't hold somebody responsible, you needn't talk to me about justice," she said fiercely. "I don't know how you and the other deacons figured it out, Ruel, but if it ain't the unpardonable sin for folks to act like fools, when the Lord has given 'em eyes to see with, and sense enough to put two and two together, I don't know what 'tis. I tell you the whole trouble grew out of that notion that a boy must be sent away to school just because he was a boy, and a girl must be kept at home just because she was a girl. If the Almighty ever meant to have things go that way why didn't He give the men the biggest brains, and put the strongest backs 'n' arms on the women? Heaven knows they've needed 'em."