question," I said. "Let me answer it by giving you
another. Is it a good thing to turn loose on a young republic a mass of
consolidated ignorance, such as the average negro represented at the
close of the war, and put votes into their hands with not one
restraining influence to counteract it? You continentals can form no
idea of the Southern negro. The case of your serfs is by no means a
parallel. But it is too late now. You cannot take the franchise away
from them. They must work out their own salvation."
"Would you take it away from them, if you could?" asked Tolstoy.
"Most certainly I would," I answered, "although my opinion is of no
value, and I am only wasting your time by expressing it. I would take
away the franchise from the negroes and from all foreigners until they
had lived in our country twenty-one years, as our American men must do,
and I would establish a property and educational qualification for every
voter. I would not permit a man to vote upon property issues unless he
were a property owner."
"Would you enfranchise the women?" asked the countess.
"I would, but under the same conditions."
"But would your best element of women exercise the privilege?" asked the
little countess.
"Not all of them at first, and some of them never, I suppose; but when
once our country awakens to the meaning of patriotism, and our women
understand that they are citizens exactly as the men are citizens, they
will do their duty, and do it more conscientiously than the men."
"It is a very interesting subject," said the count; "and your
suggestions open up many possibilities. Women do vote in several of your
States, I am told."
"How I would love to see a woman who had voted," cried the countess,
clasping her hands with all the vivacity of a French woman.
"Why, I have voted," said Bee, laughing. "I voted for President McKinley
in the State of Colorado, and my sister and Mrs. Jimmie voted for school
trustee in Illinois." All three of the Tolstoys turned eagerly toward
Bee.
"Do tell me about it," said the count.
"There is very little to tell. I simply went and stood in line and cast
my ballot."
"But was there no shooting, no bribery, no excitement?" cried the
countess. "Do they go dressed as you are now?"
"No, I dressed much better. I wore my best Paris gown, and drove down in
my victoria. While I was in the line half a dozen gentlemen, who
attended my receptions, came up and chatted with me, showed me h
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