"Are women people?"
今天读诗。<Are women people?> by Alice Duer Miller
The Revolt of Mother
("Every true woman feels----"—Speech of almost any Congressman.)
I am old-fashioned, and I think it right
That man should know, by Nature's laws eternal,
The proper way to rule, to earn, to fight,
And exercise those functions called paternal;
But even I a little bit rebel
At finding that he knows my job as well.
At least he's always ready to expound it,
Especially in legislative hall,
The joys, the cares, the halos that surround it,
"How women feel"—he knows that best of all.
In fact his thesis is that no one can
Know what is womanly except a man.
I am old-fashioned, and I am content
When he explains the world of art and science
And government—to him divinely sent—
I drink it in with ladylike compliance.
But cannot listen—no, I'm only human—
While he instructs me how to be a woman.
The Gallant Sex
(A woman engineer has been dismissed by the Board of Education, under their new rule that women shall not attend high pressure boilers, although her work has been satisfactory and she holds a license to attend such boilers from the Police Department.)
Lady, dangers lurk in boilers,
Risks I could not let you face.
Men were meant to be the toilers,
Home, you know, is woman's place.
Have no home? Well, is that so?
Still, it's not my fault, you know.
Charming lady, work no more;
Fair you are and sweet as honey;
Work might make your fingers sore,
And, besides, I need the money.
Prithee rest,—or starve or rob—
Only let me have your job!
Representation
("My wife is against suffrage, and that settles me."—Vice-President Marshall.)
I
My wife dislikes the income tax,
And so I cannot pay it;
She thinks that golf all interest lacks,
So now I never play it;
She is opposed to tolls repeal
(Though why I cannot say),
But woman's duty is to feel,
And man's is to obey.
II
I'm in a hard position for a perfect gentleman,
I want to please the ladies, but I don't see how I can,
My present wife's a suffragist, and counts on my support,
But my mother is an anti, of a rather biting sort;
One grandmother is on the fence, the other much opposed,
And my sister lives in Oregon, and thinks the question's closed;
Each one is counting on my vote to represent her view.
Now what should you think proper for a gentleman to do?
Home and Where It Is
(An Indiana judge has recently ruled: As to the right of the husband to decide the location of the home that "home is where the husband is.")
Home is where the husband is,
Be it near or be it far,
Office, theatre, Pullman car,
Poolroom, polls, or corner bar—
All good wives remember this—
Home is where the husband is.
Woman's place is home, I wis.
Leave your family bacon frying,
Leave your wash and dishes drying,
Leave your little children crying;
Join your husband, near or far,
At the club or corner bar,
For the court has taught us this:
"Home is where the husband is."
The Maiden's Vow
(A speaker at the National Education Association advised girls not to study algebra. Many girls, he said, had lost their souls through this study. The idea has been taken up with enthusiasm.)
I will avoid equations,
And shun the naughty surd,
I must beware the perfect square,
Through it young girls have erred:
And when men mention Rule of Three
Pretend I have not heard.
Through Sturm's delightful theorems
Illicit joys assure,
Though permutations and combinations
My woman's heart allure,
I'll never study algebra,
But keep my spirit pure.
The Protected Sex
With apologies to James Whitcomb Riley. ("The result of taking second place to girls at school is that the boy feels a sense of inferiority that he is never afterward able entirely to shake off."—Editorial in London Globe against co-education.)
There, little girl, don't read,
You're fond of your books, I know,
But Brother might mope
If he had no hope
Of getting ahead of you.
It's dull for a boy who cannot lead.
There, little girl, don't read.
Warning to Suffragists
("The Latin man believes that giving woman the vote will make her less attractive."—Anna H. Shaw.)
They must sacrifice their beauty
Who would do their civic duty,
Who the polling booth would enter,
Who the ballot box would use;
As they drop their ballots in it
Men and women in a minute,
Lose their charm, the antis tell us,
But—the men have less to lose.
The Ideal Candidates
(A by-law of the New York Board of Education says: "No married woman shall be appointed to any teaching or supervising position in the New York public schools unless her husband is mentally or physically incapacitated to earn a living or has deserted her for a period of not less than one year.")
CHARACTERS
Board of Education.
Three Would-Be Teachers.
Chorus by Board:
Now please don't waste
Your time and ours
By pleas all based
On mental powers.
She seems to us
The proper stuff
Who has a hus-
Band bad enough.
All other pleas appear to us
Excessively superfluous.
1st Teacher:
My husband is not really bad----
Board:
How very sad, how very sad!
1st Teacher:
He's good, but hear my one excuse----
Board:
Oh, what's the use, oh, what's the use?
1st Teacher:
Last winter in a railroad wreck
He lost an arm and broke his neck.
He's doomed, but lingers day by day.
Board:
Her husband's doomed! Hurray! hurray!
2nd Teacher:
My husband's kind and healthy, too----
Board:
Why, then, of course, you will not do.
2nd Teacher:
Just hear me out. You'll find you're wrong.
It's true his body's good and strong;
But, ah, his wits are all astray.
Board:
Her husband's mad. Hip, hip, hurray!
3rd Teacher:
My husband's wise and well—the creature!
Board:
Then you can never be a teacher.
3rd Teacher:
Wait. For I led him such a life
He could not stand me as a wife;
Last Michaelmas, he ran away.
Board:
Her husband hates her, Hip, hurray!
Chorus by Board:
Now we have found
Without a doubt,
By process sound
And well thought out,
Each candidate
Is fit in truth
To educate
The mind of youth.
No teacher need apply to us
Whose married life's harmonious.
(Curtain.)
