Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 216, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 September 1910 — When Women Vote [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

When Women Vote

By MRS. PERCY OLIVIA SMITH

It was some time after 12. The bell pealed loudly again and again, until at laat Mra. Sturtevant was Jully aroused from the deep slumber into which she had sunk so gratefully, after a most strenuous day. Slipping from the soft warm blankets, she sprang out of her bed, with a fretful exclamation: “Who is it?" she snapped crossly from the window. “It is I, Mrs. Sam Lloyd!" came the answer, In a voioe high, metallic and not a little resentful. “Gracious, let me In, I think I’ve rung about 20 times, and I’m perfectly freezing!” “Don’t waste time asking questions, but get your clothes on, and come along. We must get to work at once.”

Arrived at the hall, all was confusion. Very few men were present, find they seemed rather uncertain, and for the most part undersized, and a decidedly henpecked appearance.

The women were present in goodly number, all dressed In .the dernier erl fashion, or relapsed Into the inocuous desuetude of separate skirts and neat little toques. But all spoke, and generally all spoke at once. Some severe oneß gazed over their austere noses with cold unfeeling pale blue eyes and “laid down the law." Some of the real,, old 'campaigners purred like kittens, with claws softly sheathed, while the newer recruits ranted outright. But ope and all agreed that the East side candidate must be nipped in the bud. Th 4 posters were gotten up In masterly style. Every few minutes some new idea' was added, until almost every woman in the hall could gaze proudly upon the work when It was finished and say ’twaa hers. It remained for Mrs. Sam Lloyd to cap the climax. “Ladies,” she began, In her cool, crisp tones, “there Is one thing more which ought to go Into these posters, something of which my friend, Mrs. John Sturtevant Is well aware, and to which she can Bwear, If necessary.” When the hum of surprised Interest had died away, at a request from the chair, Mrs. Sturtevant rose pale god confused. “I am sure,” she began, darting an angry glance at her friend, which that worthy lady refused to see. “I an) not aware of any Information which would in any way add weight to these posters;” and with an indignant shake of her plumes, she sat down. “Why, Mrs. Sturtevant,” exclaimed uie intrepid one In reproachful tones, “how can you say so? Didn’t you Just tell me on the way down here that your sister had a maid whose husband had run away with an adventuress of the very same name and appearance as this new candidate? Do you mean to toll me that you believe there could be two adventuresses with the same name and appearance running off with people's husbands, and forolng themselves upon the notice of this honorable body?” Allowing a few moments for this unanswerable logic to sink into the plastic minds of her hearers, she continued in a pouting tone: “Really, when so much Is at stake—when we rely upon you to help us at this critical moment, I do not think it quite honorable of you to withhold such valuably information.’’ “We cannot always think of our own personal feelings,” put in the chair, mildly. “But, when it is for the cause, why then really we must sink personal considerations and speak out boldly—nobly for the right” “Oh, if you put it in that way,” began Mrs. Sturtevant, timidly, “I suppose I ought to go in, only it was merely supposition on my part, because the name was the same and the photograph looked so much like the other woman —but I am not absolutely sure—” '

“Better sure than sorry," piped up a thin old voice In the back of the hall, which was soon drowned in the cheers and exclamations. “Of course she's the same one you could tell it by her pictures. You Could tell it by her pictures, if they don’t show depravity! Bigamy, that’s what It is, and she has a hu* band living, too!” , “And perhaps a lot of helpless, abandoned little children!” put in a fussily dressed little woman who sat wttn her feet turned in pigeon-toed, and spoke with a llsp. "Do we want an adventuress and a bigamistr* In large type was suggested, and despite the faint protest -ot Mrs. Sturtevant, who was suddenly being lionized for the first time in her life, the motion was put and carried, and the posters were ready for the printer. • It was with some qualms that she went home In the gray of the morning, la a fine drizzling rain, to snatch a few hours’ sleep before the morning meeting of the ways and means committee. „ -'V r But her Macbeth In the person of Mrs. San Lloyd had “murdered sleep” for her, her eyes glittered with feverish unrest; she had taken cold, and the puffs and braids weighed almost as heavily upon her aching head as the'posters upon her conscience. Just as her head was nodding In her chair, she was awakened by the chatter of the children with their nurse 1 overhead. „ A“Foot little creatures,” she, mur-

mured guiltily. She had hardly looked at them, lately. And then she 1 heard the cheery voice of her husband calling to her from the hall: “Awake yet, dearie?" “Awoke?” she repeated, “Why, I’ve been up all night!” “Well, you look it," he laughed, as he came to the door. “You look ten years older since • yesterday. Where were you?” “Mrs. Sam Lloyd—’’ she began. "That woman again,” he growled.! “She will be the death of you.” She flared up at once. “You are* Just like all men—you bate her Just: because she is clever and brilliant,, and can outwit all the political schemers In town!” “Oh, no,” he responded, lightly/ "She is not clever—no woman is clever who can’t interest her ownt husband, and lets him wander like atj lost sheep to all the clubs in town.’ _ “Well, of course,” curmured his. wife. “She is Just a trifle selfish. I’ll admit, but —”

“No buts about it,” be returned* quick to follow his advantage. "Iff she were a man I know what I’d call her, a ‘Ward Heeler,’ my dear, and f? wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t pret-r ty well paid In some quarters for her cleverness—not that you’d better repeat this—we don’t want to be up for slander, but between you and me andj the bureau, the fact Is that I have it from pretty good authority.” Mrs. Sturtevant paled visibly, andi a net-work of little lines grew rounds her forehead. ‘Tf a person-j” she stammered, “a. woman, you know, should put some* damaging news in a paper or poster or anything—about any person or candidate, 1 mean—could? they do anything to them —I mean if the person; wasn’t quite sure, but only guessed: it?” John Sturtevant laughed loud and! long. “Tbis Is delicious,” be said, “onlyguessed It? Well, I’m afraid the guesser would have to back up the guesses pretty quick, or go to Jail, if the matter were pushed." “But a woman,” she protested. “Would they send a woman to Jail?" “Would they? Yes, my doar, that Is one of the privileges you have!* “John," she gasped, “I’m afraid Mrs. Lloyd Is all you say. I’m afraid she —that la—don’t laugh, John—l told her about Emma’s husband running away with that awful woman, and she had the same name and looked Just like the pictures of this new candidate, and I wondered if it was the same woman—and then she stood right up in the meeting and |old it — and I had to back it up—l couldn’t get out of it—they. Just colled around me till they had the whole story, and then they put it In the posters.” John Sturtevant paced the floor for a few moments with knit brows, and then drew his troubled wife down on the sofa beside him. “Now, Maud,” he said, wtyh more firmness than he had ever shown. “I want you to tell me Just exactly what these posters say, and Just how far you are into this business.” When she had told him all be frowned contemplatively. “This comes of women meddling in politics!” he exclaimed. Then suddenly a great light shone In his merry blue eyes, and » momentary grin showed a happy thought Then he turned and faced her with a frown. “I don’t See how I’m going to keep you out of Jail,” he muttered, despondently. “Oh, John,” she gasped. “Without beggaring both of uh to pay the costs of keeping It out, of court” he continued, still more despondently. “Oh, John, it was all Mra. Lloyd’s fault—l am sure she will—” “Mra. Sam Lloyd will clear her skirts of this, never fear, and you will be held responsible. Why this woman from the East side is a good respectable woman with more sense In her little finger than'Mrs. Lloyd had In her whole body, her husband is a prominent real'estate man | know him well. The same name—what is it? Amanda Browns are as thick as peas." s “But what shall I do, dear?” aka wailed. “What can I do?” "Leave it to me,” he exclaimed, as though suddenly forming a plan—‘leave it to me. But if I get. you out of this scrape you must promise me to drop the whole business. “1 wiU,” she cried. ‘T’ve been wanting to get out of it all along, i jtud hate politics—l don’t ever want to vote again—and the women are not clever at all,.they are Just a. set of horrid old cats!”

Before the hour set for the postere to appear, a much discomfited Mrs. Sam Lloyd was informed that therewas “nothing doing," for Mr. Sturt evant had put up such a good argument of conversation and cash, that he had readily convinced the printer of the risk he ran in putting out such dubious literature. “But lt*s cheap at the priee," he chuckled, afterwards, as he saw hta wife for the first time in weeks sitting quietly like a queen in her ova home with the children around her. “You are my own once mote," he aaidl “and we’li have no 'more old cats earring you off to committee meetings.’*" v.Xt:;"I don’t want anybody but you. 1 * she sighed, happily, “lust you and tha l children.” s i: ;