ARE WOMEN PEOPLE?

You're twenty-one to-day, Willie,

And a danger lurks at the door,

I've known about it always,

But I never spoke before;

When you were only a baby

It seemed so very remote,

But you're twenty-one to-day, Willie,

And old enough to vote.

You must not go to the polls, Willie,

Never go to the polls,

They're dark and dreadful places

Where many lose their souls;

They smirch, degrade and coarsen,

Terrible things they do

To quiet, elderly women —

What would they do to you!

If you've a boyish fancy

For any measure or man,

Tell me, and I'll tell Father,

He'll vote for it, if he can.

He casts my vote, and Louisa's,

And Sarah, and dear Aunt Clo;

Would n't you let him vote for you?

Father, who loves you so?

I've guarded you always, Willie,

Body and soul from harm;

I'll guard your faith and honor,

Your innocence and charm

From the polls and their evil spirits,

Politics, rum and pelf;

Do you think I'd send my only son

Where I would not go myself?