LESSONS OF AN ELECTION DAY.
It was the municipal election day. Judge Thorn was alone in his office.
He sat at his desk, which was piled with papers which he was busy
sorting. The door opened and Miss Thorn entered. The judge looked over
his shoulder. "You are a bit late," he said.
Jean looked at her watch.
"A trifle," she answered, "but I have always wanted to know what sort of
people run our government, and I have been out satisfying my curiosity.
I have been to the polls."
"To the polls," echoed the judge, sharply, whirling around from his desk
with a sudden movement that scattered his papers over the floor.
"That is what I said, father. I have been to the polls; and worse, I
took an active part in the proceedings by offering the voters 'no
license' tickets."
"Jean, I must say you have overstepped the bounds of all propriety. You
are a young lady who has been allowed a good many privileges, but this
is carrying things a little too far," said the judge, almost hotly.
"You were there this morning, I believe, father," Jean answered,
coolly.
"I believe I was, but that is no reason you should go. It is no fit
place for a decent woman."
"I will admit that, father, and I will go a little further and say it is
no fit place for a decent man either."
"Men have grown used to such sights and sounds as are seen and heard
around a polling place."
"I suppose so. But if decent men can grow used to such things and escape
contamination, I think decent women can do the same; and if decent men
cannot I suppose you would advise them to stay away from the polls."
"No; no, indeed. The bad element largely predominates now, and it is the
duty of every good citizen to stand by his colors at the ballot box. But
we will not discuss the matter further. The fact remains the same. Of
course you are of age and can go where you choose, yet I am nevertheless
displeased."
"I am sorry that you are displeased, father, and if my doing so will
afford you any satisfaction, I will promise you that I will not be
caught in such a howling mob again until I can go as an equal of some of
the specimens I have seen today."
Jean removed her hat and jabbed the hat pin into it with some asperity.
"I have been grossly insulted," she said.
"Just what I have expected to hear," said her father, "and what can be
done when you put yourself in the way of it?"
"I have not the remotest idea how I put myself in the way of it, but you
will probably be able to explain to me. Our venerable Uncle Sam is the
offending party, and the offense is something like the indignity you
would offer me if you gave Vivian all the privileges and love that you
should share with me, because she happened to be born with black hair,
and then should try to keep me in a state of blissful delusion by
telling me I had the sweeter disposition. There would be about as much
sense and justice in such a procedure, coming from you, as there is in
the way Uncle Sam treats women.
"Here I am, a woman of good moral character, fairly intelligent, I hope,
with a good education, denied my right to the ballot because, forsooth,
I chanced to be born a woman and am considered too good. To-day's visit
to the polls has reminded me of this insult, tendered by our government
to its loyal women.
"By the time I got within two blocks of the polling place, I could hear
the general commotion. When I arrived on the scene of action, I found a
number of women, of good standing in the community, trying to get men to
vote against license. Truly a humiliating business! But as they pressed
me, I took a few of the ballots and started into the crowd, while a
friendly looking policeman followed me.
"I had hardly made a start when some one crossed my path yelling wildly,
'Vote for whisky, boys! Vote for whisky, boys!' He was that
half-witted, pumpkin-colored individual that you discharged last winter
because he did not know enough to keep the horses' feet clean. Armed
with his license ballot, he halted a second before me; then, fluttering
the ballot, which he held between his fingers under my nose, he shouted
again and again, 'Vote for whisky, boys!"
"He gave me a look that told me plainer than a volume of words could
have done that he recognized his importance. He knew that he stood head
and shoulders above me in Uncle Sam's estimation, in spite of my
learning and morality, because on him had been bestowed a gift denied
me.
"I do not like it. I want the right of citizenship. I want to stand on
an equality with folks at least that do not know enough to clean a
horse's feet."
"It sounds very foolish, Jean," said her father, "for one of your birth
and breeding to be talking thus of an equality with such a character as
this."
"It does sound foolish, wonderfully foolish," admitted Jean. "You and I
know, father, that I am his superior, but when it comes to a question of
the social welfare, that is a very different thing. He well understands
that he is a privileged character there. He is a unit of society's
make-up, and where do I come in? Along with the Chinese, the ex-convict
and the insane! I do not relish any such sort of company. God made woman
capable of self-government, and expected it of her. Why should she not
be on a suffrage equality with man?"
"Why do you want to vote, Jean?" asked the judge, as he would begin
with a witness.
"Why do you want to vote, father?" sharply replied the girl.
"Why, my vote is my individuality in the body politic. I could not do
without my vote," said the judge, with a slight hesitation.
"Do you not suppose I want some individuality, too?" came the prompt
retort.
The judge laughed.
"I have every reason to believe you do," he said.
"Do you not suppose that I would not like to help make the laws that
govern me?" asked Jean, taking upon her the role of inquisitor.
"Men can make enough laws for both sexes, I guess," was the reply,
uttered in a tone that carried a suspicion of dismissal.
"I guess they can," persisted Jean; "but what sort of laws have they
been? Heathenish, some of them!"
"For instance?"
"Laws that have been on our statute books allowing fathers to will away
their unborn children; laws allowing the father to appoint guardians of
whatever kind or creed over his children, leaving the mother powerless.
And what shall we say about the abominable laws made by men everyone of
them, that legalize the sale of drink?"
"Well, a woman is a woman, Jean, and the polls is not a fit place for a
woman," and the judge set his lips very firmly.
"That is the assertion you made at the outset, father. It is no
argument, and much as I respect you, I can hardly accept it as final.
You know, father, that if polling places are not fit for decent women,
neither are they fit for decent men, and the sooner decent people get
around and clean them up, the better it will be for the country. Come,
now, if you have a sound, logical reason why women should not vote,
bring it on."
"Well," said the judge, "even admitting that the advent of women in
politics might have a cleansing effect, women do not want the ballot."
"What women?" demanded Jean.
"The majority of women."
"How do you know they do not?"
"It is to be supposed that if they were clamoring to any great extent
for it we would hear of it through the papers."
"What papers? Papers that oppose it to the bitter end? I can show you
papers by the dozen and the score that would enlighten you along this
line. Women do not ask, but rather they demand, the ballot. But this is
begging the question. If it is right for women to have the ballot, it is
right, and if it is wrong, it is wrong--that is all there is to it. Now,
father, tell me the reasons."
"Why, Jean, have not I given you reasons and have you not overruled
them, every one?" was the almost testy answer. "A woman is a woman, and
God never intended her to vote."
Jean laughed merrily.
"What are you laughing at?" demanded her father.
"Why, at you; you are back just where you started. Women must not vote
because they are women. If you have nothing better to offer there is no
use of going over the grounds again. This makes me think of the time I
studied circulating decimals."
The judge joined in Jean's laugh, and turned again to his papers, as if
glad of a diversion.
After Judge Thorn had picked up and rearranged his papers he looked
toward Jean, who had suddenly grown quiet. In her face he saw something
that was new to him and that in some way sent a little jealous pang to
his heart. Her face was a dream study. A soft, far-away expression
rested over it, and her father knew that she was somewhere, away from
her surroundings, but he did not interrupt her. Presently she spoke:
"I saw a man to-day."
"I supposed that you had seen several."
"Well, of course," the girl admitted, "but I rarely notice men, and that
I remember this one so distinctly and think of him surprises me. He was
tall and broad shouldered and dressed in a navy blue business suit, and
I think probably he was the handsomest man I have ever seen, though I
cannot tell why I think so. His hair and eyes were brown, his hair
almost black, it was so dark, and a trifle curly. His eyes were clear
and honest looking, with a touch of fun in them and something else that
I have not been able to define, but that I liked. He wore a mustache,
but it only partially concealed his mouth. I think perhaps it was his
mouth that I liked best. It was a firm mouth, maybe a hard one, but I
admire a firm man."
Judge Thorn laughed.
"You must have examined him pretty closely."
"No, father, I saw him at a glance some way. Perhaps he impressed me as
he did because I was so disappointed in him. I saw him standing at a
short distance from the animated crowd around the polls, looking on with
an air of mingled amusement and disgust. I made up my mind that he was
the very individual who would take one of my 'no-license' votes, so I
asked him.
"He took off his hat and looked down at me, for he is tall, a look made
of a little astonishment, a bit of fun and, I imagined, some pity, and
said: 'I am really very sorry that I cannot do as you wish, but I cannot
consistently vote against license, being myself engaged in the liquor
business.'
"Of course I said no more, but I was never so surprised in my life, and
to tell the truth, I was disappointed."
Judge Thorn looked relieved.
"I believe I know now why I remembered him so well," continued Jean. "He
was the only liquor dealer among those I spoke to to-day, and ignorantly
I accosted many, who refused my ticket in a gentlemanly manner. Yes, I
have now seen a gentlemanly liquor dealer. I wonder if I will ever see
him again. But see! Here are the horses, father. Come, let us go," she
said, taking his arm.
"Poor father! I am sorry for you. It must be a trial to have so strange
a child, but really I cannot help it, and I am sure you will forgive me
when you remember that I am 'my father's boy.'"