If she has any existence outside of the comic
supplement, gentlemen, I'd like to have ye show me where. Did ye ever
hear a whisper of her till she began to send herself by registered
mail and chain herself to lamp posts? Niver the one of ye! Is your
wife a suffragette? She's not. Is your mother? No. Your sister? Again
it's no. Then who is it that composes the great army of female ballot
seekers? Is it the cook? The chambermaid? The woman that does the
plain sewing? I'll wager 'tis not. They have too much to do already;
it's not looking for additional burdens they are. Then where does this
advanced woman flourish and have her being?" Here one hand went up and
descended with a slap. "In the mansions of the rich," he declaimed
positively; "in the lap of luxury. Among the feminine descendants of
successful gum shoe men!"
Here the man with the flushed face attempted to speak; but an eloquent
sweep of both hands silenced him.
"They have nothing to do," stated the orator, "but to invent ways of
pleasing themselves. Monkey dinner parties, diamonds, automobiles and
boxes on the grand tier have no more attraction; private yachts and
other women's husbands have grown _passe_. They want a new toy, and
faith, nothing will please them but the destinies of the nation.
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