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Bloomer's philosophy helped him through most annoyances but it broke down under the weight of the summer boarder and his or her questions. Galusha, in his daily walks, kept far afield, avoiding the traveled ways. His old resort, the Baptist cemetery, he seldom visited now, having examined and re-examined all the interesting stones within its borders.
Galusha found it distracting and, at times, annoying, for Mr. Bloomer's mustache was bristly. "Little Cherry Blossom talks's if she had a cold," whispered Zach. "Better take a little cherry rum, hadn't she, eh?" The control was loudly paging a person named Noah. "Sperit heree wantee talkee with Noah," she cried. "Wheree isee Noah?" "'Board the Ark, most likely," whispered Mr. Bloomer.
Somehow or other the summer visitor got under Mr. Bloomer's hard shell and upon his salt-seasoned nerves. "Blast 'em!" grumbled Zach, "I don't know why 'tis, but they rile me like fury. Prob'ly it's because I ain't never been much used to 'em the way I would have been if I'd been keepin' light ashore all my days.
She laughed again and Lulie and Galusha joined her. They were still laughing when the dining room door opened. Mr. Bloomer's substantial if not elegant form appeared. "Ain't buttin' in, be I?" inquired Zach. "I knew you was over here, Lulie, so I stopped to tell you the news. It's all settled." "Settled?" Lulie and Martha repeated the word together. Zach nodded, portentously.
Now recognized as the leader of women's temperance groups in New York, Susan traveled throughout the state, organizing temperance societies, getting subscriptions for Amelia Bloomer's temperance paper, The Lily, and attending temperance conventions in spite of the fact that she met determined opposition to the participation of women.
Bloomer's term expired and a man once more reigned in her stead. However, she still edited the Lily, and her office remained a fashionable center for several years. Although she wore the bloomer dress, its originator was Elizabeth Smith Miller, the only daughter of Gerrit Smith. In the winter of 1852 Mrs.
Well, Zach, he cal'lated maybe 'twas money matters, cal'lated maybe she was in debt or somethin'." Mr. Bloomer's discomfiture was so intense as to cause him actually to uncross his legs. "Godfreys, Prim!" he exclaimed. "Give you a shingle and a pocket-handkercher and you'll brag to all hands you've got a full-rigged ship. I never said Martha was in debt.
She then wrote Wendell Phillips asking if any funds were available from the Philadelphia convention, and he replied "no," but sent a personal check for $50. With this money in her pocket, and without the promise of another dollar, she started out alone, at the beginning of winter, to canvass the great State of New York. Bloomer's all the go.
"I should think your teacher would lose her taste for pretzels." "But I don't suppose Jacob understands," said Ruth, smiling. "Oh, Ruth!" cried Agnes, suddenly. "It's at Mr. Bloomer's where Carrie Poole's having her big party cake made. Lucy told me so. Lucy is Carrie's cousin, you know." "I heard about that party," said Tess. "It's going to be grand. Are you and Aggie going, Ruth?"
Everything all right about the light, Zach?" "Ay, ay, sir," was Mr. Bloomer's nautical reply. The captain grunted. "Better go look at it," he said. Turning, he called over his shoulder, "Come in, all hands." "All hands," that is, the company in the dining room came in.
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