"Let the women
vote," said he,--"let 'em vote if they want to. _I_ don't care. Fact
is, I should like to see 'em do it the first time. They're excitable, you
know; they're excitable;" and he enforced his analysis of female character
by thrusting his elbow sharply into my side. "Now, there's my wife; I'd
like to see her vote. Be fun, I tell you. And the girls,--Lord, the girls!
Circus wouldn't be anywhere." Enchanted with the picture which he appeared
to have conjured up for himself, he laughed with the utmost relish, and
then patting the green bag in his lap, which plainly contained a violin,
"You see," he went on, "I go out playing for dancing-parties. Work all day
at my trade,--I'm a carpenter,--and play in the evening. Take my little
old ten dollars a night. And _I_ notice the women a good deal; and
_I_ tell you they're _all_ excitable, and _I sh'd_ like to see 'em vote.
Vote right and vote often,--that's the ticket, eh?" This friend of
womanhood suffrage--whose attitude of curiosity and expectation seemed
to me representative of that of a great many thinkers on the subject--no
doubt was otherwise a reformer, and held that the coming man would
not drink wine--if he could find whiskey.
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