The Ballot Box Tug-of-War

The people of Washington Territory have recently experienced another election, and let us devoutly thank our stars we are still alive. To a woman, the right to vote is a grand and honorable privilege. I have been there! Yes, I have actually voted, and I consider the casting of that first vote the sublime effort of my career. My dear friends, I have been there! I had read up on the candidates, their moral and mental qualifications, and the general fitness for the positions sought after. The result was, I became hopelessly confused and decided not to vote at all. Well, during the forenoon, Sister S. came in: 'Of course you are going to vote, Rachel? We need every good woman's vote.' Soon after she left, my husband Abram came hurrying in. 'Here, Rachel, I have brought you a ticket.' He snapped on beholding my other ticket, 'Who has been here distributing hybrids? Didn't I tell you to vote the straight Republican ticket?' He thrust the hybrid into the stove and left a straight one in its place. He had no more than just gone when Sister Bagby came squeaking in. 'I know you are going to do your whole duty today and vote for the very best candidates in the field,' and produced a Democratic prohibition ticket. Then Deacon Walkup came, waddling into my room and sitting down before the stove, wanting me to vote the People's Party ticket. 'Am I supposed to have no mind of my own, and Abram simply because I exercise my right of franchise?' I shrieked. Well, this thing went on until I didn't have one grain of common sense left. Finally, Abram grabbed me: 'Rachel, put on your bonnet this minute and come with me. I'll not lose sight of you for another instant until I see you deposit a vote.' I went with a firm grip on my arm until he saw my vote safely poked through the little hole in the ballot box. But then I voted.