One or probably more women in mannish suits and boots calmly smoking
cigarettes while they talk, and talk well, about things in which women
are not supposed to be interested, but which it is apparent they
understand.

Look the exhibit over. It is made, you at once recognize, by women of
character, position, and sense. They have simply found certain
masculine ways to their liking and adopted them. The probability is
that if anybody should object to their habits, many of them would be
as bewildered as are the great majority of Americans by the
demonstration that "nice" women can smoke and think nothing of it!

The cigarette, the boot, and much of the talk are only by-products of
the woman's invasion of the man's world. She did not set out to win
these spoils. They came to her in the campaign!

The objects of her attack were things she considered more
fundamental. She was dissatisfied with the way her brain was being
trained, her time employed, her influence directed. "Give us the man's
way," was her demand, "then we shall understand real things, can fill
our days with important tasks, will count as human beings."

There was no uncertainty in her notion of how this was to be
accomplished. A woman rarely feels uncertainty about methods. She
instinctively sees a way and follows it with assurance. Half her
irritation against man has always been that he is a spendthrift with
time and talk. Madame Roland, sitting at her sewing table listening to
the excited debate of the Revolutionists in her salon, mourned that
though the ideas were many, the resulting measures were few. It is the
woman's eternal complaint against discussion--nothing comes of it. In