“But what did the oculist say was the trouble with your eyes?” Quincy asked.

“He didn’t tell me,” replied Alice.  “He may have told my employer.  He gave me some drops to put in my eyes three times a day; and a little metal tube with a cover to it like the top of a pepper box; on the other end is a piece of rubber tubing, with a glass mouthpiece attached to it”

“How do you use that?” asked Quincy.

Alice continued, “I hold the pepper box in front of my wide-opened eye; then I put the glass mouthpiece in my mouth and blow, for a certain length of time.  I don’t know how long it is.  It seems as though a thousand needles were driven into my eyeball.  The drops make me cry; but the little tube brings the tears in torrents.”

“Isn’t that harsh treatment?” asked Quincy, as he looked at the beautiful blue but sightless eyes that were turned towards him.

“No,” said Alice with a laugh, “the pain and the tears are like an April shower, for both soon pass away.”

At this moment Uncle Ike entered the room and Ezekiel’s steps were heard descending the stairs.  Uncle Ike said, “We have got it started and ’Zeke’s gone down to bring up a good stock of wood.  If you have no objection, Mr. Sawyer, I will sit down here a few minutes.  Don’t let me interrupt your conversation.”

“I hope you will take a part in it,” said Quincy.  “You put a lot of new ideas into my head the first time I came to see you, and perhaps you may have some more new ones for me to-day.  Miss Pettengill was just saying she would feel miserable if she lost her situation.”

“I have no doubt of it,” said Uncle Ike.  “The Pettengills are not afraid to work.  If a man is obliged to earn his living by the sweat of his brow, I don’t see why woman shouldn’t do the same thing.”

“But the home is woman’s sphere,” said Quincy.

“Bosh!” cried Uncle Ike.

“Why, Uncle!” cried Alice.

“Oh, Mr. Sawyer understands me!” said Uncle Ike.  “In the Middle Ages, when women occupied the highest position that has fallen to her lot since the days of Adam, the housework was done by menials and scullions.  Has the world progressed when woman is pulled down from her high estate and this life of drudgery is called her sphere?  Beg your pardon, Mr. Sawyer, but there should be no more limit fixed to the usefulness of woman than there is to the usefulness of man.”

“But,” persisted Alice, “I don’t think Mr. Sawyer means that exactly.  He means a woman should stay at home and look after her family.”

“Well,” said Uncle Ike, “so should the man.  I am inclined to think if the father spent more time at home, it would be for the advantage of both sons and daughters.”

“But,” said Quincy, “do you think it is for the best interests of the community that woman should force her way into all branches of industry and compete with man for a livelihood?”