Judge — August 31, 1912 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

T HE Chatter. By LILLIAN ST. JORN COLLINS 'ALK about trust-busting! Why, trust-busting is a mere turkey-trot gait compared with the pace California women are hitting, smashing all speed records in their frantic attempt to keep up with the privileges of full citizenship. You see, they have the initiative, too, so there is always an election of some sort in process. The women go down- town to shop in the morning, and drop into the city hall on the way, to vote on something or other—it doesn’t much matter what; it’s practice they need. The political exchanges are operating under pressure, women working double shifts, to supply the demand of clamor- ing womankind for brand-new garments of citizenship. No female applicant is barred. Every feminine creature, fluffy ruffles or militantette, upon request is furnished with a made-to-measure toga of citizenship—some a little misfit, others cut slightly on the bias; but per- fectly good, serviceable civic garments, on the whole. Incidentally, referring to clothes, I notice that willow plumes and such droopy, clingy, feminine frip-fraps no longer adorn fashionable headgear. One gees only perky, up-standing, totem-pole effects nowadays. Everything in mil- linery is wired stiffly to simulate the backbone women are so heroically devel- oping. Thus do our garments continue to express our inner mood. Not to in- sinuate that politics is (or are) a femi- nine mood! By no means! No, indeed! Everybody works but father, in these po ‘al refineries where crude feminin- ity is poured into one hopper and re- turned to civilization from another, high-proof, non-explosive, fully guaran- teed zens. It’s a tremendous task. No wonder that the female bosses are beginning to look a little worn and frayed and slightly out of curl. Then there is an immense amount of reading to be put through between times. Of course applicants for the de- gree of F.C. (Full Citizenship) must be MODERN able to pass creditable exams upon the fitness of candidates for political office. They must know something about their family history, their favorite brand of tobacco, what cult or school of worship they affect, et cetera. If an applicant flunks, she has to be run through the hoppers again. So, you see, it’s no joke. BUBBLES. An Apt Rejoinder. Mrs. B, C. Gudden, of Oshkosh, Wis., is one of the most apt of suffragist speakers with platform replies to ques- tions. At a recent meeting where she was the speaker of the occasion and where the gathering was mostly of Ger- mans, one of the men arose and made the statement, ‘‘We are told that there are four women in the Legislature of Colorado. Now what I should like to know is, Who does the cooking at home which these women should be doing?” “Bless you!'’ came the answer. “Those women are all mature women and have grown daughters at home, who can cook all and more sauerkraut than the men can eat!’"" WwW OM AN How He Became Converted. In one of the Wisconsin cities there is a flourishing suffrage organization among the high-school girls, with a membership of thirty. They planned to celebrate the anniversary of the birth of Susan B. Anthony, and invited high- school boys to attend the party. It happened that in the same high school the principal was very anxious to interest his students in current events, and the literary society subscribed for The day follow- ion several daily papers. ing the party, when the morning opened, the principal asked, “*Whose birthday did we celebrate yesterday ?"" Over half the hands in the assembly room went up immediately, and the principal beamed and expanded in chest measurement because of this joyous surprise. “Well, Iam glad to see so many rerdy with an answer. Who is it, Zeno?” “Susan B. Anthony, sir."’ Down went all the other fifty-nine hands. A look of consternation came over the principal's face. “T—I—well, right,’ he said. Darwin.”’ And the principal decided to vote for woman suffrage at the next election. well, perhaps you're “I was thinking of A Child's Satire. “IT don't believe that women will make good mothers if they are allowed to vote,’’ was the ever old and ever new argument advanced at a meeting where Mrs. Gudden was speaking. “That reminds me of the story of the little girl and her cat,”’ replied Mrs. Gudden, ‘‘One day she was earnestly scolding her kitten because she did not keep herself clean. ‘What kind of a ~ mother will you ever make?" she remon- strated, and, giving the kitten a good shake, she concluded, ‘why, you won't even make a good father!’’’ comicbooks.com