Non Plush Ultra will have to be a
neat, ankle-length riding skirt. You got one, haven't you?'

"'I have,' says she, 'a very pretty one of tan corduroy, almost new, but
I had looked forward to these, and I don't see yet--'

"Then I thought of another way I might get to her without blurting out
the truth. 'Listen, Hetty,' I says, 'and remember not only that I'm your
friend but that I know a heap more about this fool world than you do.
I've had bitter experiences, and one of them got me at the time I first
begun to wear riding pants myself, which must have been about the time
you was beginning to bite dents into your silver mug that Aunt Caroline
sent. I was a handsome young hellion, I don't mind telling you, and they
looked well on me, and when Lysander John urged me to be brave and wear
'em outside I was afraid all the men within a day's ride was going to
sneak round to stare at me. My! I was so embarrassed, also with that
same feeling you got in your heart this minute that it was taking an
unfair advantage of any man--you know! I felt like I was using all the
power of my young beauty for unworthy ends.

"'Well, do you know what I got when I first rode out on the ranch? I
got just about the once-over from every brute there, and that was all.
If one of them ranch hands had ever ogled me a second time I'd have
known it all right, but I never caught one of the scoundrels at it.
First I said: "Now, ain't that fine and chivalrous?" Then I got wise. It
wasn't none of this here boasted Western chivalry, but just plain lack
of interest. I admit it made me mad at first. Any man on the place was
only too glad to look me over when I had regular clothes on, but dress
me like Lysander John and they didn't look at me any oftener than they
did him. Not as often, of course, because as a plain human being and
man's equal I wasn't near as interesting as he was.'

"'But then, too,' says Hetty, who had only been about half listening to
my lecture, 'I thought it might be striking a blow at the same time for
the freedom of woman.'

"Well, you know how that freedom-of-the-sex talk always gets me going. I
was mad enough for a minute to spank her just as she stood there in them
Non Plush Ultras she was so proud of. And I did let out some high talk.
Mrs. Dutton told her afterward she thought sure we was having words.

"'Freedom from skirts,' I says, 'is the last thing your sex wants.
Skirts is the final refuge of immodesty, to which women w