Samantha on the Woman Question by Marietta Holley (debian ebook reader TXT) đź“–
- Author: Marietta Holley
Book online «Samantha on the Woman Question by Marietta Holley (debian ebook reader TXT) 📖». Author Marietta Holley
He seemed to think it would, I see by the looks of his linement he did. Every honorable man feels so in his heart, and yet they let the Liquor Ring control ’em and lead ’em round. “It is queer, queer as a dog.” Sez I, “The intellectual and moral power of the United States are rolled up and thrust into that Whiskey Ring and bein’ drove by the whiskey dealers jest where they want to drive ’em.” Sez I, “It controls New York village and nobody denies it, and the piety and philanthropy and culture and philosophy of that village has to be drawed along by that Ring.” And sez I, in low but startlin’ tones of principle:
“Where, where is it a-drawin’ ’em to? Where is it drawin’ the hull nation to? Is it drawin’ ’em down into a slavery ten times more abject and soul-destroyin’ than African slavery ever wuz? Tell me,” sez I firmly, “tell me!”
He did not try to frame a reply, he could not find a frame. He knowed it wuz a conundrum boundless as truth and God’s justice, and as solemnly deep in its sure consequences of evil as eternity, and as sure to come as that is.
Oh, how solemn he looked, and how sorry I felt for him, for I knowed worse wuz to come, I knowed the sharpest arrow Serepta Pester had sent wuz yet to pierce his sperit. But I sort o’ blunted the edge on’t what I could conscientiously. Sez I, “I think myself Serepta is a little onreasonable, I myself am willin’ to wait three or four weeks. But she’s suffered dretful from intemperance from the Rings and from the want of rights, and her sufferin’s have made her more voylent in her demands and impatienter,” and then I fairly groaned as I did the rest of the errent, and let the sharpest arrow fly from the bo.
“Serepta told me to tell you if you didn’t do these errents you should not be President next year.”
He trembled like a popple leaf, and I felt that Serepta wuz threatenin’ him too hard. Sez he, “I do not wish to be President again, I shall refuse to be nominated. At the same time I do wish to be President and shall work hard for the nomination if you can understand the paradox.”
“Yes,” sez I, “I understand them paradoxes. I’ve lived with ’em as you may say, all through my married life.”
A clock struck in the next room and I knowed time wuz passin’ swift.
Sez the President, “I would be glad to do Serepta’s errents, I think she is justified in askin’ for her rights, and to have the Ring destroyed, but I am not the one to do them.”
Sez I, “Who is the man or men?”
He looked all round the room and up and down as if in hopes he could see someone layin’ round on the floor, or danglin’ from the ceilin’, that would take the responsibility offen him, and in the very nick of time the door opened after a quick rap, and the President jumped up with a relieved look on his linement, and sez:
“Here is the very man to do the errents.” And he hastened to introduce me to the Senator who entered. And then he bid me a hasty adoo, but cordial and polite, and withdrew himself.
“HE WUZ DRETFUL POLITE”
I felt glad to have this Senator do Serepta’s errents, but I didn’t like his looks. My land! talk about Serepta Pester bein’ disagreeable, he wuz as disagreeable as she any day. He wuz kinder tall and looked out of his eyes and wore a vest. He wuz some bald-headed, and wore a large smile all the while, it looked like a boughten one that didn’t fit him, but I won’t say it wuz. I presoom he’ll be known by this description. But his baldness didn’t look to me like Josiah Allen’s baldness, and he didn’t have the noble linement of the President, no indeed. He wuz dretful polite, good land! politeness is no name for it, but I don’t like to see anybody too good. He drawed a chair up for me and himself and asked me:
If he should have the inexpressible honor and delightful joy of aiding me in any way, if so to command him to do it or words to that effect. I can’t put down his second-hand smiles and genteel looks and don’t want to if I could.
But tacklin’ hard jobs as I always tackle ’em, I sot down calm in front of him with my umbrell on my lap and told him all of Serepta’s errents, and how I had brought ’em from Jonesville on my tower. I told over all her sufferin’s and wrongs from the Rings and from not havin’ her rights, and all her sister’s Azuba Clapsaddle’s, and her Aunt Cassandra Keeler’s, and Hulda and Drusilly’s and Abagail Flanderses injustices and sufferin’s. I did her errents as honorable as I’d love to have one done for me, I told him all the petickulars, and as I finished I said firmly:
“Now can you do Serepta Pesterses errents and will you?”
He leaned forward with that disagreeable boughten smile of hisen and took up one corner of my mantilly, it wuz cut tab fashion, and he took up the tab and said in a low insinuatin’ voice, lookin’ clost at the edge of the tab:
“Am I mistaken, or is this beautiful creation pipein’ or can it be Kensington tattin’?”
I drawed the tab back coldly and never dained a reply; agin he sez, in a tone of amiable anxiety, “Have I not heard a rumor that bangs are going out of style? I see you do not wear your lovely hair bang-like or a-pompadouris? Ah, women are lovely creatures, lovely beings, every one of ’em.” And he sithed, “You are very beautiful,” and he sithed agin, a sort of a deceitful lovesick sithe. I sot demute as the Spinks, and a chippin’ bird tappin’ his wing aginst her stuny breast would move it jest as much as he moved me by his talk or his sithes. But he kep’ on, puttin’ on a sort of a sad injured look as if my coldness wuz ondoin’ of him.
“My dear madam, it is my misfortune that the topics I introduce, however carefully selected by me, do not seem to be congenial to you. Have you a leanin’ toward Natural history, madam? Have you ever studied into the habits and traits of our American Wad?”
“What?” sez I. For truly a woman’s curosity, however parlyzed by just indignation, can stand only just so much strain. “The what?”
“The wad. The animal from which is obtained the valuable fur that tailors make so much use of.”
Sez I, “Do you mean waddin’ eight cents a sheet?”
“Eight cents a pelt—yes, the skins are plentiful and cheap, owing to the hardy habits of the animal.”
Sez I, “Cease instantly. I will hear no more.”
Truly, I had heard much of the flattery and little talk statesmen will use to wimmen, and I’d hearn of their lies, etc.; but truly I felt that the half had not been told. And then I thought out-loud and sez:
“I’ve hearn how laws of eternal right and justice are sot one side in Washington, D.C., as bein’ too triflin’ to attend to, while the Legislators pondered over and passed laws regardin’ hen’s eggs and bird’s nests. But this is goin’ too fur—too fur. But,” sez I firmly, “I shall do Serepta’s errents, and do ’em to the best of my ability, and you can’t draw off my attention from her wrongs and sufferin’s by talkin’ about wads.”
“I would love to obleege Serepta,” sez he, “because she belongs to such a lovely sect. Wimmen are the loveliest, most angelic creatures that ever walked the earth; they are perfect, flawless, like snow and roses.”
Sez I firmly, “They hain’t no such thing; they are disagreeable creeters a good deal of the time. They hain’t no better than men, but they ort to have their rights all the same. Now Serepta is disagreeable and kinder fierce actin’, and jest as humbly as they make wimmen, but that hain’t no sign she ort to be imposed upon; Josiah sez she hadn’t ort to have rights she is so humbly, but I don’t feel so.”
“Who is Josiah?” sez he.
Sez I, “My husband.”
“Ah, your husband! Yes, wimmen should have husbands instead of rights. They do not need rights; they need freedom from all cares and sufferin’. Sweet lovely beings! let them have husbands to lift them above all earthly cares and trials! Oh! angels of our homes!” sez he, liftin’ his eyes to the heavens and kinder shettin’ ’em, some as if he wuz goin’ into a spazzum. “Fly around, ye angels, in your native hants; mingle not with rings and vile laws, flee away, flee above them!”
And he kinder waved his hand back and forth in a floatin’ fashion up in the air, as if it wuz a woman flyin’ up there smooth and serene. It would have impressed some folks dretful, but it didn’t me. I sez reasonably:
“Serepta would have been glad to flew above ’em, but the Ring and the vile laws lay holt of her onbeknown to her and dragged her down. And there she is all bruised and broken-hearted by ’em. She didn’t meddle with the political Ring, but the Ring meddled with her. How can she fly when the weight of this infamous traffic is holdin’ her down?”
“Ahem!” sez he. “Ahem, as it were. As I was saying, my dear madam, these angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty to mingle with rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are now; we are willing to stand the rude buffetin’ of—of—voting, in order to guard these sweet delicate creatures from any hardships. Sweet tender beings, we would fain guard thee—ah, yes, ah, yes.”
Sez I, “Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase, for such talk is like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral and mental stomach. You know and I know that these angelic tender bein’s, half-clothed, fill our streets on icy midnights, huntin’ up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. They are driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want liquor drinkin’ entails. They are starved, they are froze, they are beaten, they are made childless and hopeless by drunken husbands killin’ their own flesh and blood. They go down into the cold waves and are drowned by drunken captains; they are cast from railways into death by drunken engineers; they go up on the scaffold and die for crimes committed by the direct aid of this agent of Hell.
“Wimmen had ruther be flyin’ round than to do all this, but they can’t. If men really believed all they say about wimmen, and I think some on ’em do in a dreamy sentimental way—If wimmen are angels, give ’em the rights of angels. Who ever hearn of a angel foldin’ up her wings and goin’ to a poor-house or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever hearn of a angel bein’ dragged off to police court for fightin’ to defend her children and herself from a drunken husband that had broke her wings and blacked her eyes, got the angel into the fight and then she got throwed into the streets and imprisoned by it? Who ever hearn of a angel havin’ to take in washin’ to support a drunken son or father or husband? Who ever hearn of a angel goin’ out as wet-nurse to git money to pay taxes on her home to a Govermunt that in theory idolizes her, and practically despises her, and uses that money in ways abominable to that angel. If you want to be consistent, if you’re bound to make angels of wimmen, you ort to furnish a
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