women into the mud, and frames such flimsy excuses. But as a
woman's thoughts about women, this woman's utterances are
deserving of attention; and she says that women are not to be
depended upon. She is never sure that they will not turn out
on the wrong side. They are nervous; they are timid; they are
unreasoning; they are reckless. They will give a horse a
disconnected, an utterly inconsequent "cut," making him spring,
to the jeopardy of their own and others' safety. They are not
concentrative, and they are not infallibly courteous, as men
are. I remember I was driving with her once between
Newburyport and Boston. It was getting late, and we were
very desirous to reach our destination before nightfall.
Ahead of us a woman and a girl were jogging along in a country
wagon. As we wished to go much faster than they, we turned
aside to pass them; but just as we were well abreast, the woman
started up her horse, and he skimmed over the ground like a bird.
We laughed, and followed, well content. But after he had gone
perhaps an eighth of a mile, his speed slackened down to the
former jog-trot. Three times we attempted to pass before we
really comprehended the fact that that infamous woman was
deliberately detaining and annoying us. The third time, when
we had so nearly passed them that our horse was turning into
the road again, she struck hers up so suddenly and unexpectedly
that her wheels almost grazed ours. Of course, understanding
her game, we ceased the attempt, having no taste for
horse-racing; and nearly all the way from Newburyport to
Rowley, she kept up that brigandry, jogging on, and forcing
us to jog on, neither going ahead herself nor suffering us to
do so,--a perfect and most provoking dog in a manger. Her
girl-associate would look behind every now and then to take