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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Woman-Hater"

Litigation is long. Perfidy was in possession. Possession is
nine points. The female students are now sitting with their hands before
them, juggled out of their studies, in plain defiance of justice and
public faith, waiting till time shall show them whether provincial
lawyers can pettifog as well as trades-union doctors.
"As for me, I had retired to civilized climes long before this. I used to
write twice a week to my parents, but I withheld all mention of the
outrage at Surgeons' Hall. I knew it would give them useless pain. But in
three weeks or so came a letter from my father, unlike any other I ever
knew him to write. It did not even begin, 'My dear child.' This was what
he said (the words are engraved in my memory): 'Out of that nation of
cowards and skunks! out of it this moment, once and forever! The States
are your home. Draft on London inclosed. Write to me from France next
week, or write to me no more. Graduate in France. Then come North, and
sail from Havre to New York. You have done with Britain, and so have I,
till our next war. Pray God that mayn't be long!'
"It was like a lion's roar of anguish. I saw my dear father's heart was
bursting with agony and rage at the insult to his daughter, and I shed
tears for him those wretches had never drawn from me.


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