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:
     “Buttercups!”
     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.