iv th’ first gintlemen iv Europe that ye see on ye’er way to France that th’ furyous females attimpted to enter.  Undaunted be th’ stairs iv th’ building or th’ rude jeers iv th’ multichood, they advanced to th’ very outside dures iv th’ idifice.  There an overwhelmin’ force iv three polismen opposed thim.  ‘What d’ye want, mum?’ asked the polls.  ‘We demand th’ suffrage,’ says th’ commander iv th’ army iv freedom.

“The brutal polis refused to give it to thim an’ a desp’rate battle followed.  Th’ ladies fought gallantly, hurlin’ cries iv ‘Brute,’ ‘Monster,’ ‘Cheap,’ et cethry, at th’ constablry.  Hat pins were dhrawn.  Wan lady let down her back hair; another, bolder thin th’ rest, done a fit on th’ marble stairs; a third, p’raps rendered insane be sufferin’ f’r a vote, sthruck a burly ruffyan with a Japanese fan on th’ little finger iv th’ right hand.  Thin th’ infuryated officers iv th’ law charged on th’ champeens iv liberty.  A scene iv horror followed.  Polismen seized ladies be th’ arms and’ led thim down th’ stairs; others were carried out fainting by th’ tyrants.  In a few minyits all was over, an’ nawthin’ but three hundhred hairpins remained to mark th’ scene iv slaughter.  Thus, Hinnissy, was another battle f’r freedom fought an’ lost.”

“It sarves thim right,” said Mr. Hennessy.  “They ought to be at home tindin’ th’ babies.”

“A thrue statement an’ a sound argymint that appeals to ivry man.  P’raps they havn’t got any babies.  A baby is a good substichoot f’r a ballot, an’ th’ hand that rocks th’ cradle sildom has time f’r anny other luxuries.  But why shud we give thim a vote, says I. What have they done to injye this impeeryal suffrage that we fought an’ bled f’r?  Whin me forefathers were followin’ George Wash’nton an’ sufferin’ all th’ hardships that men endure campin’ out in vacation time, what were th’ women doin’?  They were back in Matsachoosetts milkin’ th’ cow, mendin’ socks, followin’ th’ plow, plantin’ corn, keepin’ store, shoein’ horses, an’ pursooin’ th’ other frivvlous follies iv th’ fair but fickle sect.  Afther th’ war our brave fellows come back to Boston an’ as a reward f’r their devotion got a vote apiece, if their wives had kept th’ Pilgrim fathers that stayed at home fr’m foreclosin’ th’ morgedge on their property.  An’ now, be hivens, they want to share with us what we won.

“Why, they wudden’t know how to vote.  They think it’s an aisy job that anny wan can do, but it ain’t.  It’s a man’s wurruk, an’ a sthrong man’s with a sthrong stomach.  I don’t know annything that requires what Hogan calls th’ exercise iv manly vigor more thin votin’.  It’s th’ hardest wurruk I do in th’ year.  I get up befure daylight an’ thramp over to th’ Timple iv Freedom, which is also th’ office iv a livery stable.  Wan iv th’ judges has a cold in his head an’ closes all th’ windows.  Another judge has built a roarin’ fire in a round stove an’ is cookin’ red-hots on it.  Th’ room is lit with candles an’