The Gay Rebellion

by Robert W. Chambers

  XIV

  THE situation in Great Britain was becoming deplorable; the HomeSecretary had been chased into the Serpentine; the Prime Minister and adozen members of Parliament had taken permanent refuge in the vaults ofthe Bank of England; a vast army of suffragettes was parading the streetsof London, singing, cheering, and eating bon-bons. Statues, monuments,palaces were defaced with the words "Votes for Women," and it was not anuncommon sight to see some handsome young man rushing distractedlythrough Piccadilly pursued by scores of fleet-footed suffragettes of theeugenic wing of their party, intent on his capture for the purposes ofscientific propagation.

  No young man who conformed to the standard of masculine beauty set by theeugenist suffragettes was safe any longer. Scientific marriage betweenperfectly healthy people was now a firmly established principle of thesuffragette propaganda; they began to chase attractive young men on sightwith the avowed determination of marrying them to physically qualifiedindividuals of their own sex and party, irrespective of social oreducational suitability.

  This had already entailed much hardship; the young Marquis of Putney waschased through Cadogan Place, caught, taken away in a taxi, and marriedwilly-nilly to a big, handsome, strapping girl who sold dumb-bells in thenew American department store. No matter who the man might beprofessionally and socially, if he was young and well-built and athletiche was chased on sight and, if captured, married to some wholesome andathletic young suffragette in spite of his piteous protests.

  "We will found," cried Mrs. Blinkerly Dank-some-Hankly triumphantly, "aperfect human race and teach it the immortal principles of woman'srights. So, if we can't persuade Parliament to come out for us, we'lltake Parliament by the slack of its degraded trousers, some day, andthrow it out!"

  This terrible menace delivered in Trafalgar Square was cabled to the_Outlook_, which instantly issued its first extra; and New York, alreadyin the preliminary throes of a feminine revolution, went wild.

  That day the handsome young Governor of New York, attended by hisornamental young Military Secretary in full uniform, had arrived at theWaldorf-Astoria to confer with the attractive young Mayor of themetropolis concerning a bill to be introduced into the legislature,permitting the franchise to women under certain conditions. And on thesame day a monster suffragette parade was scheduled.

  Some provisions of the proposed measure, somehow or other, had becomeknown to the National Federation of Women; and as the Governor, hisMilitary Secretary, and the Mayor sat in earnest conference in a privateroom at the Waldorf, the most terrible riot that New York ever saw beganon Fifth Avenue just as the head of the parade, led by the suffragetteband of 100 pieces, arrived at the hotel.

  The Governor, Mayor, and Secretary rushed to the windows; acres ofbanners waved wildly below; cheer after cheer rent the raw Marchatmosphere; in every direction handsome young men were fleeing, pursuedby eugenists. Under their very windows the shocked politicians beheld anexceedingly good-looking youth seized by several vigorous and beautifulsuffragettes, dragged into a taxi, and hurried away toward a scientificmarriage, kicking and struggling. This was nothing new, alas. More thanone attractive young man had already been followed and spoken to inManhattan.

  Mr. Dill, president of the Board of Aldermen, and the handsomestincumbent of the office that the city ever beheld, had been courted sopersistently that, fearful of being picked up, he remained in hidingdisguised as a Broadway fortune teller, where the Mayor came at intervalsto consult him on pretense of having his palms read.

  But now the suffragettes threw off all restraint; men, frightened andconfused, were being not only spoken to on Fifth Avenue, but were beingseized and forcibly conducted in taxicabs toward the marriage licensebureau.

  It was a very St. Bartholomew for bachelors.

  "John," said the Governor to his capable young Military Secretary, "takeoff that uniform. I'm going to flee in disguise."

  "What does your excellency expect me to flee in--dishabille?" stammeredthe Military Secretary.

  "I don't care what you flee in," said the Governor bluntly; "but I willnot have it said that the Governor of the great State of New York wasseized by a dozen buxom eugenists and hurried away to become the founderof a physically and politically perfect race of politicians. Get out ofthose gold-laced jeans!"

  "I'll flee disguised as a chambermaid," muttered the handsome,rosy-cheeked young Mayor. And he rang for one.

  While the Governor and his Secretary were exchanging clothes they heardthe Mayor in the hallway arguing with a large German chambermaid in anearnest and fatherly manner, punctuated by coy screams from the maid.

  By and by he came back to the room, perspiring.

  "I bought her clothes," he said; "she'll throw them over the transom."

  The clothing arrived presently by way of the transom; the Governor andthe Secretary tried to aid the Mayor to get into the various sections ofclothing, but as they all were bachelors and young they naturally werenot aware of the functions of the various objects scattered over thefloor.

  The Governor picked up a bunch of curls attached to a cup-shaped turbanswirl.

  "Good heavens!" he said. "The girl has scalped herself for your sake,John!"

  "I bought that, too," said the Mayor, sullenly. "Do you know which way itgoes on, George?"

  They fixed it so that two curls fell down and dangled on either side ofhis Honour's nose.

  Meanwhile the unfortunate Military Secretary had dressed in the top hatand cutaway of the Governor.

  He said huskily, "If I can't outrun them they'll catch me and try tostart raising statesmen."

  "It's your duty to defend me," observed the Governor.

  "Yes, with my life, but not with my p-progeny--"

  "Then you'd better run faster than you've ever run in all your life,"said the Governor coldly.

  At that moment there came a telephone call.

  "Lady at the desk to speak to the Governor," came a voice.

  "Hello, who is it?" asked his excellency coyly.

  "Professor Elizabeth Challis!" came a very sweet but determined voice.

  At the terrible name of the new President of the National Federation ofAmerican Women the Governor jumped with nervousness. Anonymous lettershad warned him that she was after him for eugenic purposes.

  "What do you want?" he asked tremulously.

  "In the name of the Federation I demand that you instantly destroy thedraft of that infamous bill which you are preparing to rush through atAlbany."

  "I won't," said the Governor.

  "If you don't," she said, "the committee on eugenics will seize you."

  "Let 'em catch me first," he replied, boldly; and rang off.

  "Now, John," he said briskly, "as soon as they catch sight of you in mytop hat and cutaway they'll start for you. And I advise you to leg it ifyou want to remain single."

  The unfortunate Military Secretary gulped with fright, buttoned hiscutaway coat, crammed his top hat over his ears, and gazed fearfully outof the window, where in the avenue below the riot was still in livelyprogress. Terrified young men fled in every direction, pursued byvigorous and youthful beauty, while the suffragette band played andthousands of suffragettes cheered wildly.

  "Isn't it awful!" groaned the Mayor, arranging the lace cap on histurban-swirl and shaking out his skirts. "The police are no use. Thesuffragettes kidnap the good-looking ones. Are you ready for the sortie,Governor?"

  The Governor in the handsome uniform of his Military Secretary adjustedhis sword and put on the gold-laced cap. Then, thrusting the draft of theobnoxious bill into the bosom of his tunic, he strode from the room,followed by his Secretary and the unfortunate Mayor, who attempted invain to avoid treading on his own trailing skirts.

  "George," said the Mayor, spitting out a curl that kept persistentlygetting into his mouth every time he opened it, "I'll be in a pickleunless I can reach Dill's rooms. . . . Wait! There's a pin sticking intome----"

  "Too late," said the Governor; "it will spur you to run all the
faster. .. . Where is Dill's?"

  The Mayor whispered the directions, spitting out his curl at intervalswhen it incommoded him; the Governor walked faster to escape.

  Down in the elevator they went, gazed at by terror-stricken bell-hops andscared porters.

  As the cheering and band playing grew louder and more distinct theSecretary quailed, but the Governor admonished him:

  "You've simply _got_ to save me," he said. "_Pro_ _bono publico!_ Comeon now. Make a dash for a taxi and the single life! One--two--three!"

  The next moment the Secretary's top hat was carried away by a brick; theMayor's turban-swirl went the same way, amid showers of confetti and ayell of fury from a thousand suffragettes who saw in his piteous attemptto disguise himself, by aid of a turban-swirl, an insult to womanhood theworld over.

  A perfect blizzard of missiles rained on the terrified politicians; theSecretary and the Mayor burst into a frantic canter up Thirty-fourthStreet, pursued by a thousand strikingly handsome women. The Governor ranwest.