"Serepta would have been glad to flew above 'em, but the Ring and the vile
laws lay holt of her onbeknown to her and dragged her down. And there
she is all bruised and broken-hearted by 'em. She didn't meddle with the
political Ring, but the Ring meddled with her. How can she fly when the
weight of this infamous traffic is holdin' her down?"

"Ahem!" sez he. "Ahem, as it were. As I was saying, my dear madam, these
angelic angels of our homes are too ethereal, too dainty to mingle with
rude crowds. We political men would fain keep them as they are now; we are
willing to stand the rude buffetin' of--of--voting, in order to guard these
sweet delicate creatures from any hardships. Sweet tender beings, we would
fain guard thee--ah, yes, ah, yes."

Sez I, "Cease instantly, or my sickness will increase, for such talk is
like thoroughwort or lobelia to my moral and mental stomach. You know and I
know that these angelic tender bein's, half-clothed, fill our streets on
icy midnights, huntin' up drunken husbands and fathers and sons. They are
driven to death and to moral ruin by the miserable want liquor drinkin'
entails. They are starved, they are froze, they are beaten, they are
made childless and hopeless by drunken husbands killin' their own flesh
and blood. They go down into the cold waves and are drowned by drunken
captains; they are cast from railways into death by drunken engineers; they
go up on the scaffold and die for crimes committed by the direct aid of
this agent of Hell.

"Wimmen had ruther be flyin' round than to do all this, but they can't.
If men really believed all they say about wimmen, and I think some on 'em
do in a dreamy sentimental way--If wimmen are angels, give 'em the rights
of angels. Who ever hearn of a angel foldin' up her wings and goin' to a
poor-house or jail through the fault of somebody else? Who ever hearn of a