I

“Jimmie,” said Lizzie, “couldn’t we go see the pictures?”

And Jimmie set down the saucer of hot coffee which he was in the act of adjusting to his mouth, and stared at his wife.  He did not say anything; in three years and a half as a married man he had learned that one does not always say everything that comes into one’s mind.  But he meditated on the abysses that lie between the masculine and feminine intellects.  That it should be possible for anyone to wish to see a movie idol leaping into second-story windows, or being pulled from beneath flying express trains, on this day of destiny, this greatest crisis in history!

“You know, Lizzie,” he said, patiently, “I’ve got to help at the Opera-house.”

“But you’ve got all morning!”

“I know; but it’ll take all day.”

And Lizzie fell silent; for she too had learned much in three years and a half of married life.  She had learned that working men’s wives seldom get all they would like in this world; also that to have a propagandist for a husband is not the worst fate that may befall.  After all, he might have been giving his time and money to drink, or to other women; he might have been dying of a cough, like the man next door.  If one could not have a bit of pleasure on a Sunday afternoon—­well, one might sigh, but not too loud.

Jimmie began telling all the things that had to be done that Sunday morning and afternoon.  They seemed to Lizzie exactly like the things that were done on other occasions before meetings.  To be sure, this was bigger—­it was in the Opera-house, and all the stores had cards in the windows, with a picture of the Candidate who was to be the orator of the occasion.  But it was hard for Lizzie to understand the difference between this Candidate and other candidates—­none of whom ever got elected!  Lizzie would truly rather have stayed at home, for she did not understand English very well when it was shouted from a platform, and with a lot of long words; but she knew that Jimmie was trying to educate her, and being a woman, she was educated to this extent—­she knew the way to hold on to her man.

Jimmie had just discovered a new solution of the problem of getting the babies to meetings; and Lizzie knew that he was tremendously proud of this discovery.  So long as there had been only one baby, Jimmie had carried it.  When there had come a second, Lizzie had helped.  But now there were three, the total weight of them something over sixty pounds; and the street-car line was some distance away, and also it hurt Jimmie in his class-consciousness to pay twenty cents to a predatory corporation.  They had tried the plan of paying something to a neighbour to stay with the babies; but the first they tried was a young girl who got tired and went away, leaving the little ones to howl their heads off; and the second was a Polish lady whom they found in a drunken stupor on their return.