I would have done so with all
my heart, but there was a section of Hyndsville I couldn't reach. It
was locked up behind bars of pride and prejudice of its own
building; and losing by it, of course, since one can't be exclusive
without at the same time being excluded. To shut other folks out you
have first got to shut yourself in.
For instance, figure to yourself Miss Martha Hopkins. She had
visited as far north as Atlanta; and she had relatives in
Charleston, as she would have condescendingly informed arch-angels,
principalities, powers, thrones, and dominions. But she wasn't
blessed with much of this world's goods, and most of the time she
stayed home and improved her mind. She took herself with profound
seriousness. She seemed to think that the better part of wisdom
consists in knowing who said this and who didn't say that--"as Mr.
Arnold Bennett expresses it," "as Mr. H.G. Wells remarks," "as Mr.
James Huneker writes,"--she was the only person in all Hyndsville
who could write up music and art, and she wasn't even afraid to use
the word _sex_ in its most modern acceptance; though in South
Carolina you refer to the ladies as "the fair sex" if you're a
gentleman, and to the gentlemen as "the stronger sex" if you're a
lady.
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