“‘We demand a vote,’ says she.  ‘All right,’ says I, ’take mine.  It’s old, but it’s trustworthy an’ durable.  It may look a little th’ worse f’r wear fr’m bein’ hurled again a republican majority in this counthry f’r forty years, but it’s all right.  Take my vote an’ use it as ye please,’ says I, ‘an’ I’ll get an hour or two exthry sleep iliction day mornin’,’ says I.  ‘I’ve voted so often I’m tired iv it annyhow,’ says I.  ‘But,’ says I, ‘why shud anny wan so young an’ beautiful as ye want to do annything so foolish as to vote?’ says I.  ’Ain’t we intilligent enough?’ says she.  ‘Ye’ar too intilligent,’ says I.  ’But intilligence don’t give ye a vote.’

“‘What does, thin,’ says she.  ‘Well,’ says I, ’enough iv ye at wan time wantin’ it enough.  How many ladies ar-re there in ye’er Woman’s Rights Club?’ ‘Twinty,’ says she.  ‘Make it three hundher,’ says I, ‘an’ ye’ll be on ye’er way.  Ye’er mother doesn’t want it, does she?  No, nor ye’er sister Katie?  No, nor ye’er cousin, nor ye’er aunt?  All that iliction day means to thim is th’ old man goin’ off in th’ mornin’ with a light step an’ fire in his eye, an’ comin’ home too late at night with a dent in his hat, news-boys hollerin’ exthries with th’ news that fifty-four votes had been cast in th’ third precint in th’ sivinth ward at 8 o’clock, an’ Packy an’ Aloysius stealin’ bar’ls fr’m th’ groceryman f’r th’ bone-fire.  If they iver join ye an’ make up their minds to vote, they’ll vote.  Ye bet they will.’

“’Ye see, ‘twas this way votin’ come about.  In th’ beginnin’ on’y th’ king had a vote, an’ ivrybody else was a Chinyman or an Indyan.  Th’ king clapped his crown on his head an’ wint down to th’ polls, marked a cross at th’ head iv th’ column where his name was, an’ wint out to cheer th’ returns.  Thin th’ jooks got sthrong, an’ says they:  Votin’ seems a healthy exercise an’ we’d like to thry it.  Give us th’ franchise or we’ll do things to ye.  An’ they got it.  Thin it wint down through th’ earls an’ th’ markises an’ th’ rest iv th’ Dooley fam’ly, till fin’lly all that was left iv it was flung to th’ ign’rant masses like Hinnissy, because they made a lot iv noise an’ threatened to set fire to th’ barns.’

“‘An’ there ye ar-re.  Ye’ll niver get it be askin’ th’ polis f’r it.  No wan iver got his rights fr’m a polisman, an’ be th’ same token, there ar-re no rights worth havin’ that a polisman can keep ye fr’m gettin’.  Th’ ladies iv London ar-re followin’ the right coorse, on’y there ain’t enough iv thim.  If there were forty thousand iv thim ar-rmed with hat pins an’ prepared to plunge th’ same into th’ stomachs iv th’ inimies iv female suffrage, an’ if, instead iv faintin’ in th’ ar-rms iv th’ constablry, they charged an’ punctured thim an’ broke their way into th’ House iv Commons, an’ pulled th’ wig off the speaker, an’ knocked th’ hat over th’ eyes iv th’ prime ministher it wudden’t be long befure some mimber wud talk in his sleep in their favor.  Ye bet!  If ye’er suffrage club was composed iv a hundhred thousand sturdy ladies it wudden’t be long befure Bill O’Brien wud be sindin’ ye a box iv chocolate creams f’r ye’er vote.’