en who would take
such an announcement from the Captain calmly."

"Perhaps not, my friend. But if there were room for but few in the
boats, who would stay behind and go down with the ship? Nine out of
every ten of the men. Why? Not because they are all courageous, I grant
you, but because of the horrible conceit that makes them our masters.
Pride and conceit constitute what stands for courage in most men. The
wild animal has no conceit, he has no pride. Does the male lion rush out
to be shot in place of his mate? He do not. He sneaks off in the high
reeds and leaves her to take care of herself. The Captain of this
steamer is so full of pride zat he will stay on it till it goes under
the wave. It is not courage, Mr. Percivail. It is his pride in the
power zat--that God has give to his sex. These men here,--you, my
friend,--face the danger now so unflinching for why? Because for ages
and ages you have believe in and depend upon the man beside you, the men
around you. Zat is the difference between man and woman. Woman believes
in and depends on man. She has no faith in her own sex. So, you see, my
friend, when I say I am brave and you say Miss Clinton is plucky, it is
all because we have men about us who are so proud and conceited zat they
will die before they will admit that they are not as helpless and as
weak as we are in times like zis."

"You may be right," he mused, struck by her argument. "It's usually
pride that makes a man stand up and fight another, even when he knows
he's sure to be beaten. It's neither confidence nor courage. It's just
plain fear of being a coward."

"You will admit then that I understand the wonderful male animal which
struts on two legs and rules all the other animals of the world, eh?
It is the only animal in the whole big world zat--that is completely
satisfied with itself. So now, Mr. Percivail, you have the secret of the
so-called courage of the male of our species."

"I hope all women haven't gone into the subject so deeply," he said,
with a rueful smile. "You make rather small potatoes of us."

"Ah, do not say that," she cried, "for, alas, I am denied potatoes."

"Well, then," he said, laughing, "if all women understood us as well as
you do, we wouldn't rule the world very much longer. They'd yank us off
the pedestal and revile us forevermore."

"But you do not understand women, my friend. Did we not bring you into
the world? Are you not our sons, and therefore begotten to be kin