MRS. FARRELL. I wouldnt compare risks run to bear living people
into the world to risks run to blow them out of it. A mother's
risk is jooty: a soldier's nothin but divilmint.

MITCHENER (nettled). Let me tell you, Mrs. Farrell, that if the
men did not fight, the women would have to fight themselves. We
spare you that, at all events.

MRS. FARRELL. You cant help yourselves. If three-quarters of you
was killed we could replace you with the help of the other
quarter. If three-quarters of us was killed, how many people
would there be in England in another generation? If it wasnt for
that, the mand put the fightin on us just as they put all the
other dhrudgery. What would YOU do if we was all kilt? Would you
go to bed and have twins?

MITCHENER. Really, Mrs. Farrell, you must discuss these questions
with a medical man. You make me blush, positively.

MRS. FARRELL. A good job too. If I could have made Farrell blush
I wouldnt have had to risk me life too often. You n your risks n
your bravery n your selfcontrol indeed! "Why don't you conthrol
yourself?" I sez to Farrell. "Its agen me religion," he sez.

MITCHENER (plaintively). Mrs. Farrell, youre a woman of very
powerful mind. Im not qualified to argue these delicate matters
with you. I ask you to spare me, and to be good enough to take
these clothes to Mr. Balsquith when the ladies leave.