" to secure my vote
for this, that, and the other thing.

Why, it fairly made my hair stand on end to hear the stories which the
pleasant men, whom I thought so grandly interested in schemes for
"the material development of the country," told about each other. Mrs.
Filch's shawl began to burn my shoulders before I had worn it a half a
dozen times. (I have since given it to Melissa, as a wedding-present).

Before the next session was half over, I was doubly glad of being safe
at home. Mrs. Whiston supposed that the increased female representation
would give her more support, and indeed it seemed so, at first. But
after her speech on the Bounty bill, only two of the fifteen Democratic
women would even speak to her, and all hope of concord of action in
the interests of women was at an end. We read the debates, and my blood
fairly boiled when I found what taunts and sneers, and epithets she was
forced to endure. I wondered how she could sit still under them.

To make her position worse, the adjoining seat was occupied by an
Irishwoman, who had been elected by the votes of the laborers on the
new Albemarle Extension, in the neighborhood of which she kept a grocery
store. Nelly Kirkpatrick was a great, red-haired giant of a woman, very
illiterate, but with some native wit, and good-hearted enough, I am
told, when she was in her right mind. She always followed the lead of
Mr. Gorham (whose name, you see, came before hers in the call), and
a look from him was generally sufficient to quiet her when she was
inclined to be noisy.

When the resolutions declaring the war a failure were introduced, the
party excitement ran higher than ever. The "lunch-room" (as they called
it--I never went there but once, the title having deceived me) in the
basement-story of the State House was crowded during the discussion, and
every time Nelly Kirkpatrick came up, her face was a shade deeper red.
Mr. Gorham's nods and winks were of no avail--speak she would, and speak
she did, not so very incoherently, after all, but very abusively. To
be sure, you would never have guessed it, if you had read the quiet and
dignified report in the papers on her side, the next day.

THEN Mrs. Whiston's patience broke down. "Mr. Speaker," she exclaimed,
starting to her feet, "I protest against this House being compelled
to listen to such a tirade as has just been delivered. Are we to be
disgraced before the world--"

"Oh, hoo! Disgraced, is it?" yelled Nelly Ki