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(By an admirer of the late H.C. Bunner.)

“I know what you're going to say,” she said,
And she stood up, causing him some alarm;
“You're going to tell me I'll lose my charm,
And what is a woman when charm has fled?
And you're going to say that you greatly fear
I don't understand a woman's sphere;
Now aren't you honestly?” “Yes,” he said.

“I know what you're going to say,” she said,
“You're going to ask what I hope to gain
By stepping down to the dusty plain,
By seeking a stone when I might have bread;
You're going to say: ‘Can a vote replace
The tender force of a woman's grace?'
Now, aren't you honestly?” “Yes,” he said.

“I know what you're going to do,” he said,
“You're going to talk to me all day long
Trying to make me see I'm wrong;
And other men who are less misled
Will pale with jealousy when they see
The time you give to converting me;
Now, aren't you honestly?” “Ye-es,” she said.

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