The Suffragette

From the Rock Island Argus, October 5, 1912.
By Duncan M. Smith.
 

 And this woman, soft of voice,
   Of whom the poets sung,
 Who in the ages long ago
   Was forced to hold her tongue.
 Good sooth but she is making up
   And paying back the debt
 Piled up through all those silent years!
   Behold the suffragette!
 
 Our mother sat around and smiled
   When men in meeting rose,
 And when they grandly aired their views
   Her tongue was in repose.
 But now the words so long suppressed
   No longer clog her throat.
 She fires them out with emphasis
   And says she wants a vote.
 
 No longer will she sit at ease
   And let him have his way
 About affairs of church and state,
   For she will have her say.
 For when there is a talking fest
   You find her in the swim,
 And oftentimes, to his dismay,
   She knows as much as him.
 
 Yes, woman, you have grown a bit
   And learned a lot of things.
 You fly as high as any one
   Since you have spread your wings.
 Is it for better or for worse?
   We can’t exactly say:
 But, though man is a little dazed,
   He likes you anyway.