A Woman for Mayor A Novel of To-day

Excerpt

An Unprecedented Proposal

"Well, why shouldn't we change it?" asked Mrs. Bateman, as she scooped out the grape-fruit that formed the first course at the P. W.'s regular monthly luncheon.

"Change it? Change what?—How?" asked several voices at once.

"The state of affairs in this city," pursued Mrs. Bateman calmly. "I have been thinking things over since I got home this fall. Everybody agrees that our little city is going to the dogs; that municipal affairs were never so muddled as now. And now, here is Barnaby Burke running for mayor, with a ravenous pack of demagogues behind him."

"Yes, and not a decent man to run against him," added Cornelia Jewett.

"I don't see why," began the fluffy little woman in light blue, "I don't see why no genuine, honest, upright gentleman will allow his name to be used. Rudolph says it has got so that nobody but a politician will consent to be mayor of Roma."

"They're all afraid of the demagogues," put in another. "There's Albert Turner; he ought to stand as a candidate. But I suppose he wouldn't?" She turned to a large fair lady across the table who was placidly consuming her soup.

"My husband isn't interested in politics," was the reply. "His business affairs are too pressing."

"That's the trouble with most of the men," commented another. "They are too much absorbed in their own affairs to care much what happens to the community. We need a little more of the socialistic spirit."

"Oh, dreadful!" muttered another. "We shall be preaching anarchy next."

"And Granville Mason—or Geoffrey Bateman," added the fluffy lady in blue.

"My husband said last night that politics had sunk to such a pass in this town that no decent man would touch the City Hall with a pair of tongs," said Mrs. Mason. "That's the answer he gave a couple of men who came from Headquarters to ask him to stand. And he said that whatever decent man accepted the nomination was sure to be defeated. He doesn't care to be the figure-head of Defeat."

"That's the way they all feel," said Gertrude Van Deusen. "I wish I were a man. I'd run for mayor! I wouldn't let the figure of Defeat worry me. I'd make a fight, I would, and we'd see if the demagogues had everything their own way."

"Why not run, then?" asked Mrs. Bateman, smiling across the table.

"I'd get every decent man roused up, for once," said Gertrude, enthusiastically, "I'd go into every ward and organize—as they do. I'd work among the poor, the illiterate, the unfortunate; and I'd rouse the rich and educated, too. That's the class that need awakening in this town."

"Then you're the right candidate," said Mrs. Bateman. "Why don't you take it? Really, now, why not?"

"O, Mrs. Bateman, I was only imagining a case." Miss Van Deusen was blushing and confused now. "Of course I couldn't run for office, not really."

"Why not?" asked the elder woman in the calm, judicial way which made her a leader among women. "Why not? The town is going to the dogs—or rather, to the demagogues. We need a complete revolution in Roma. We women have the vote in this state; why not take matters into our own hands?...