n
one-sided experience for the most part. The reason they do is because so
far they have never had the opportunity to lead. The present situation
in Jordantown afforded this opportunity. Women were rarely seen now upon
the square, but the avenue literally teemed with men. They crowded the
aisles of the stores; they blocked the sidewalks. Only the victims held
aloof. Acres, Thad Bailey, and the other merchants remained bitterly
faithful to the square. The usual groups of loafers occupied the
courthouse veranda. Colonel Marshall Adams had apparently retired from
public life. He spent his days on his farm, which lay upon the outskirts
of the town. He could be seen returning late in the evening, seated upon
an old pacing horse like a wounded warrior barely able to keep in his
saddle.

There was a report in Jordantown to the effect that real estate had
fallen in value, that the workingmen were leaving, that bankruptcy and
starvation stared every man in the face. But if this was so, there was
no way to warn the people. The _Signal_ published every week glowing
accounts of the prosperity of the town. The most amazing information
appeared from week to week concerning the growth of sentiment in favour
of suffrage for women. The locals were filled with complimentary notices
of the comings and goings of country matrons and country belles who had
never seen their names in print before. And there was an occasional
interview from some woman prominent in the suffragist movement.

Martin Acres reached the infuriated end of his patience when he saw the
following quotation from Mabel, who had permitted herself to be
interviewed.

"Do you think women know better how to buy and sell than men?" Mrs.
Acres was asked.

"Of course they do. Isn't it women who have to cook, or see to it? Then
why shouldn't they know better than men what is proper food for their
families? And isn't it women that make the clothes and who wear most of
them? So we naturally know better what stuffs we need for clothes. If
you could see the ugly dimities and ginghams and calicoes we have worn
in this town all our lives, chosen by colour-blind merchants who do not
know what is becoming to us! Things are different here this spring, our
groceries are of a better quality, and our frocks are infinitely more
becoming."

There was more in the same tenor. But Acres was too angry to read
further. He rushed into his wife's room with the _Signal_ in his hand.

"Did you s