For nature has her sorrows and her joys,
As all the piled-up mountains and low vales
Will silently attest--and hang thy head
In dire confusion, for having dared
To moan at thine own miseries
When God and nature suffer silently.
THE WOMAN.
The literary manager of the club arose, cleared his throat, adjusted his
cravat, fixed his eyes sternly upon the young man, and in a sonorous
voice, a little marred by his habitual lisp, asked: "Mr. ----, will you
please tell us your opinion upon the question, whether woman's chances
for matrimony are increased or decreased when she becomes man's equal as
a wage earner?"
The secretary adjusted her eye-glass, and held her pencil alertly poised
above her book, ready to note which side Mr. ---- took. Mr. ----
fidgeted, pulled himself together with a violent jerk, and finally spoke
his mind. Someone else did likewise, also someone else, then the women
interposed, and jumped on the men, the men retaliated, a wordy war
ensued, and the whole matter ended by nothing being decided, pro or
con--generally the case in wordy discussions. _Moi?_ Well, I sawed wood
and said nothing, but all the while there was forming in my mind, no, I
won't say forming, it was there already.
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