“But what did the husband think of all this?” inquired Aunt Sarah, dubiously.

“Oh, Tom studied the case, too, at first just to tease Emily, but he soon became as enthusiastic as Emily.  He said, ’The first time you are privileged to vote, Emily, I will hire an automobile to take you to the polls in style.’  But poor Emily was left alone with her children last winter.  Tom died of typhoid fever.  Contracted it from the bad drainage.  They lived in a town not yet safeguarded with sewerage.  Now Emily is a taxpayer as well as a mother, and she has no say as far as the town and schools are concerned.  There are many cases like that, where widows and unmarried women own property, and they are in no way represented.  And think of the thousands and thousands of women who have no home to stay in and no babies to look after.”

“Mercy, Mary!  Do stop to take breath.  I never thought when I started this subject I would have an enthusiastic suffragist with whom to deal.”

“I am glad you started the subject, Aunt Sarah, because there is so much to be said for the cause.  I saw you glance at the clock and I see it is time to prepare supper.  But some day I’m going to stop that old clock and bring down some of my books on ‘Woman’s Suffrage’ and you’ll he surprised to hear what they have done in States where equal privileges were theirs.  I am sure ’twill not be many years before every State in the Union will give women the right of suffrage.”

* * * * *

After Mary retired that evening Aunt Sarah had a talk with her John, whom she knew needed help on the farm.  As a result of the conference, Mary wrote to Ralph the following day, asking him to spend his vacation on the farm as a “farm hand.”  Needless to say, the offer was gladly accepted by Ralph, if for no other reason than to be near the girl he loved.

Ralph came the following week—­“a strapping big fellow,” to quote Uncle John, being several inches over six feet.

“All you need, young chap,” said Mary’s Uncle, “is plenty of good, wholesome food of Sarah’s and Mary’s preparing, and I’ll see that you get plenty of exercise in the fresh air to give you an appetite to enjoy it, and you’ll get a healthy coat of tan on your pale cheeks before the Summer is ended.”

Ralph Jackson, or “Jack,” as he was usually called by his friends, an orphan like Mary, came of good, old Quaker stock, his mother having died immediately after giving birth to her son.  His father, supposed to be a wealthy contractor, died when Ralph was seventeen, having lost his fortune through no fault of his own, leaving Ralph penniless.

Ralph Jackson possessed a good face, a square, determined jaw, sure sign of a strong will and quick temper; these Berserker traits he inherited from his father; rather unusual in a Quaker.  He possessed a head of thick, coarse, straight brown hair, and big honest eyes.  One never doubted his word, once it had been given.  ’Twas good as his bond.  This trait he inherited also from his father, noted for his truth and integrity.  Ralph was generous to a fault.  When a small boy he was known to take off his shoes and give them to a poor little Italian (who played a violin on the street for pennies) and go home barefoot.