lady.

"But the fishing?" cried Nan curiously.

"Ah, yes. I am coming to that," said her mother. "The fishing,
to be sure! Why, we are going to write letters to just everybody
we know, and some we only know by hearsay, and find out if there
isn't a niche for Papa Sherwood somewhere outside Tillbury."

"So we can!" cried Nan, clapping her hands.

"I am afraid there is general depression in my line of business
everywhere," suggested Mr. Sherwood. "For some years the
manufacturers have been forcing cotton goods upon a false market.
And the recent attempt to help the cotton growers by boosting the
price of raw cotton will come near to ruining the mills and mill
workers. It is always so. In an attempt to benefit one class of
the people another class is injured."

"Now, never mind politics, sir!" cried his little wife. "We
poor, weak women aren't supposed to understand such things. Only
when Nan and I get the vote, and all the other millions of women
and girls, we will have no class legislation. 'The greatest good
for the greatest number' will be our motto."

Mr. Sherwood only smiled. He might have pointed out that in that
very statement was the root of all class legislation. He knew
his wife's particular ideas were good, however, her general
political panacea was rather doubtful. He listened thoughtfully
as she went on: