Jest then the female in the meal bag stuck her hed into the room
and statid that refreshments awaited the weary travler, and I sed
if it was vittles she ment the weary travler was agreeable, and I
follored her into the next room.

I sot down to the table and the female in the meal bag pored out
sum tea. She sed nothin, and for five minutes the only live
thing in that room was a old wooden clock, which tickt in a
subdood and bashful manner in the corner. This dethly stillness
made me oneasy, and I determined to talk to the female or bust.
So sez I, "marrige is agin your rules, I bleeve, marm?"

"Yay."

"The sexes liv strickly apart, I spect?"

"Yay."

"It's kinder singler," sez I, puttin on my most sweetest look and
speakin in a winnin voice, "that so fair a made as thow never got
hitched to some likely feller." [N.B.--She was upards of 40 and
homely as a stump fence, but I thawt I'd tickil her.]

"I don't like men!" she sed, very short.

"Wall, I dunno," sez I, "they're a rayther important part of the
populashun. I don't scacely see how we could git along without
'em."

"Us poor wimin folks would git along a grate deal better if there