As the carpenter's gaze wandered over this scene of devastation, his attention was drawn by Mrs. And when I ask you why it is you do so, you have no answer. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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