The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1880-12-02
The Emancipation of Man.
From the Burlington Hawkeye.


when she came into the sanctum, and all
! the seniors became instinctively very busy
| and SO absorbed in their work that thew did
not see her, which left the youngest man on
the staff an easy prey, for he looked at the
visitor with little natural politeness. and
was even soft enough to offer her chair.
''You are the editor?" she said, in deep,
bass voice.
He tried to say &c Yes " so that she could
hear him, while his colleagues in the sane
tum couldn't but it was failure, for the
woman gave him dead away in minute.
"You are!" she shouted. ''Then listen
to me; look at me; what am II"
The foolish youngest man looked at her
timidly and ventured to say, in a feeble voice,
that she looked to be about forty -sev-.
Nursing" she shrieked," had you the
soulful eyes of free man you could see
brighter day."
''Could II" asked the youngest man tim
idly.
eyes, you could T." the woman said in
tones of unreasonable scorn. Now hear
me, have you a-but cannot bring myself
to use the hateful expression in the style Of
masculine possession; are you anybody's
The youngest man blushed bitterly, and
said that he wasn't as yet but he had some
hopes
"And you expect your-that is, you expect
the woman whose husband you will be to
support your"
The youngest man blushed more keenly
than before, and tremblingly admitted that
he had some expectations that-that- that
the only daughter Of his proposed father-in-
law, if he might put it that way
''Yah!' snarled the woman; ''now let me
tell you, the day Of woman's emancipation
is at hand. From this time we are free.
fer-ree! You must look for other slaves to
bend and cringe before your majesties and
wait upon you like slaves. You will feel
the change in your affairs since we have
burst our chains and how will you live with
out the aid Of woman? Who makes your
shirts now?" she added fercely.
The youngest man miserably said that
tailor on Jefferson street made his.
HIM, said the woman, somwhat discon-
certed. "Well, who washes EN-, then?' she
added triumphantly.
"Chinaman just west Of Fifth street, the
youngest man said with hopeful liz ht in
his eyes.
The woman glared at him and groaned
under her breath, but she came at him again
with:
Proud worm, who cooks your victuals?"
The youngest man said truly that he didn't
know the name Of the cook athis restaurant
but he was a man about forty years old, and
round as a barrel with whiskers like the
stufing Of a sofa.
| The woman looked as though she was
going to strike him.
''Well, she said, as one who was leading
a forlorn hope, ''who makes up your bed
and takes care of your room?"
The youngest man replied with an air of
truth and frankness that he roomed with a
railroad conductor, and an pullman Sleep
ng-car porter took care of their room.
She paused when she reached the door,
and turned upon him with the face of a
drowning man who is only five feet away
from a life buoy.
Miserable DEPENDENT" she cried, 'who
sews on your buttons?"
The youngest man on the staff rose to his
feet with proud, happy look on his face.
Haven't sewed button on single
clothes, he cried, triumphantly; patents,
every one of 'em fastened on like copper riv-
cts and nothing but studs and collar but
tons on my shirts. Haven't had button
sewed on for three years. Patent buttons
last for years after the garments have gone
to decay"
And the woman fled down the winding
passage and the labyrinthine stairs with a
hollow groan, while the other members of
the staff, breaking through their heroic re-
serve, clustered around the youngest man
and congratulated him upon the emancipa-
ton of his sex.