Volume 17 , Issue 37

A 1913 Poem - "The Suffragettes"

It was a Sunday, 2 February 1913, that we found this suffragettes poem on page 8 of "The Morning Tulsa Daily World (Tulsa, Oklahoma).

Found on Newspapers.com

Hark, what is that sound from the street I hear,
A rattle of drums and a trumpets blare
To the door I hurry, and there to stare,
At a procession passing by
The sight I saw, I'll never forget
Deep in my memory is it printed yet,
Tremblingly, I whisper, the suffragette, the militant suffragette.

Got for women, loudly they cried.
Or we'll skin you alive and tan your hide
And make you wish that you had died
When you was born a baby.
Unlike, Barbara Fritchie, I did not say
Shoot at this head that's turned to gray,
But whirled me around and ran instead,
Into the house and under the bed
Scared of the suffragette, the Militant Suffragette.

And there I staid, like a hunted hare,
Listening to cries that rend the air,
Cries of men in dire despair,
Caught by the Suffragette.
I determined to make my life cost dear
And not to be pulled out from under there,
Where I had taken refuge because of my scare
From the Suffragette, the Militant Suffragette.

I had been thus hid, for a long long while.
And was somewhat restored to my natural style,
When my wife took a look, and smiled a smile
Which seemed to me quite hopeful.
I'll give you protection Jim said she,
If you'll give me your promise that you'll agree
To buy the latest tele of a hat for me
That I saw on a Suffragette the Militant Suffragette.

Ye gods, my life would be spared, it was no joke.
But when the sparing was paid for I would then be broke,
And no better off than a trampish bloke.
But still I decided to buy it
I took my choice and said we'd agree.
There was no other way that I could see,
I am between the devil and the deep deep sea
Caused by the Suffragette, the Militant Suffragette.

Sadly I looked at the street out there
Not a man in sight, not anywhere,
But the street was strewn with things they wear.
Things they had lost in the battle.
You men, said my wife, had best stop your regrets.
You can see what stubbornness now begets.
It was only the ladies of the Suffragette the Militant Suffragettes.
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