"
"How long a swim was it to shore?" I asked.
"Oh," put in her husband, "it didn't amount to nothing. She was only
swimming about two minutes."
This statement, however, was repudiated by the captain. "Two minutes, my
foot!" she flung back at her spouse. "It was more than that, all right!"
Mrs. Johnson has done flood rescue work for the Government, with the
_Grand_. In the spring previous to our visit she rescued sixty families
from one plantation, besides towing barge-loads of provisions to various
points on the Mississippi and Arkansas rivers.
Captaining and piloting a river boat are clearly good for the health.
Mrs. Johnson looks too young to be a grandmother. Her skin is clear, her
cheeks are rosy, her brown eyes flash and twinkle, her voice, somewhat
hoarse from shouting commands, is deep and strong, and her laugh is like
the hearty laugh of a big man.
"Are you a suffragist?" I asked her.
"Not on your life!" was her reply.
"Now, what do you want to talk like that for?" objected her husband.
"You know women ought to be allowed to vote."
"I don't think so," she returned firmly.
At that her daughter-in-law, the assistant clerk of the _Grand_, took up
the cudgels.
"Of course they ought to vote!" she insisted. "You know _you_ can do
just as good as a man can do!"
"No," asseverated Captain Nettie.
Pages:
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552