There’s no sense arguin’ with ’em,’ says Ebenezer Gates,
You can’t convince the women that they ain’t fit fer votes;
There’s Sary got the notion that she’s as good as man,
An’ I can’t show her diff’runt, an’ no man livin’ can.
She’s most bnreasonubbel. ‘Now, I suppose,’ says she,
‘If I got drunk each evenin’ ye’d think lots more o’ me?’
‘She’s so consarn contrary, she won’t talk common sense,
She flies right off the handle the minute I commence.
‘Of course, we ain’t men’s equals,’ says Sary, ‘if we wuz
We’d hang around some barroom the way Jim Pilzer does;
We’d soak ourselves with liquor, an’ guzzle down our pay
An’ show ourselves your equals in some sich manly way.’
‘Now what’s the use of reason, when women talk like that?
Ye might as well keep silent. With facts I knock her flat,
But when I git her cornered, she smiles an’ says t’ me:
‘Hank Foss has been arrested. He beat his family;
The neighbors have his children, his wife is sick in bed,
The ballot ain’t fer wimmin, it’s kep’ fer Hank instead.’
‘It really is a caution how foolish she’s become!
‘I wisht I knew enough,’ says she, ‘t’ be a village bum;
I wisht I had the brain power t’ loaf around all day
An’ see my children barefoot, but I ain’t built that way.