And Why Not Philadelphia?
OF making women’s clubs there is no end. New York has a new society.
The members call themselves the Buttercups.
Why Buttercups, deponent sayeth not,
but the aim of the society is a laudable one, no less a thing than
the cultivation and dissemination of charity and good will. No member
is to say an unkind word or to form a harsh judgment.
Every member is to take whatever comes
with cheerful serenity and make the best of the situation. Each
woman is pledged to spread abroad the club principles. If any one
in the fold is heard to utter an expression unbefitting the sisterhood,
her fellows are to say “Buttercups.” The magic word will bring the
wandering one back to a sense of her responsibility.
A member of the society tried the
formula on a mere man the other day. He was talking before an audience
of women that included many Buttercups. He grew violent on the subject
of Czolgosz and expressed an unchristian desire to make the assassin’s
punishment a harsh one.
Some of the women applauded, but one
woman arose to the occasion. She was a Buttercup, and in the words
of the statesman she “seen her duty and she done it.” In clarion
tones she called out to the speaker:
The man didn’t understand. Perhaps
it was natural that he shouldn’t intuitively grasp the meaning of
the warning word. He looked puzzled and went on with his speech,
but later he asked the significance of the enigmatic comment.
The Buttercups say he was deeply impressed
by the explanation. He sighed to be a Buttercup himself, and just
to show that there was no hard feeling the society made him a member.
So one little word may alter the destiny of man.