“Oh, shaw!” sez Jane Olive, “it wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?” sez I.  “I’ll bet if that course wuz took for the next five years with fallen men you wouldn’t have to raise so much money for fallen wimmen; I’ll bet it would ameliorate their condition more than anything else would.”

“It don’t hurt a man,” sez Jane Olive agin.

“Why don’t it hurt ’em?” sez I.  “If it makes a woman so bad the hull world calls her ruined and lost, and prints her name out in the daily papers, as they always do, givin’ her full name and address and sayin’ some wild young man (but nameless) of respectable family was implicated, and talks of her as if Heaven wuz shet aginst her, and she has got to pray and repent in sack-cloth and ashes all the rest of her days, and never, never git her old place back in the eyes of the community, it hain’t reasonable to spoze it don’t hurt a man a mite to fall at the same time and in the same way.  There is no sense in it, and I’ll bet if you hunt round in your city you’ll find where fallen men are kep’ hid away till they can repent and reform.

“Why,” sez I, “men’s hearts and souls and morals are made out of exactly the same stuff that wimmens be.  And as I said before, let a man and a woman fall out of a high winder together it smashes him jest as bad as it duz her.  They have to be carried off to hospitals jest the same, the same doctor tends ’em, the same medicine has to be administered to ’em and they have to come back slowly to health agin.  It takes the same length of time to lose the marks of the woonds and bruises, and they have to hobble round on the same kind of crutches.  And why under the sun, moon and stars there is any difference in the woonds on their souls and morals I can’t see, nor I don’t believe you can.”

Agin she snorted and acted real high headed, and sez she, “There hain’t no such a Home as that you’re talkin’ about, and never wuz.”

“Well,” sez I, “then it is high time there wuz.”  And I went on real eloquent, “Poor fallen men have been neglected too long and their ruin will lay on our doorsteps if we don’t do sunthin’ to help ’em; I won’t give a cent to help fallen wimmen, who have had ten times as much preachin’ to ’em and as much done for ’em, till justice has been done to fallen men.  Poor mizable creeters!  They’ll find out they’ve got one friend that will stand by ’em if they’ve never had a mite of pity or help or encouragement held out to ’em before in the world.  It is high time sunthin’ wuz done for ’em; and when you who live right in the midst of fallen men come here and say you’ve started a home for ’em, where there will be preachin’ to ’em, and encouragement gin ’em to repent and reform, when you’ve come and told me you’ve started this job I’ll give, and give liberal.”