章节正文
She wrote a sensational full-page article for a Sun-
day newspaper, illustrated with pictures showing us
all in knickerbockers. In this striking work of art
I carried a fish net and pole and wore a handkerchief
tied over my head. The article, which was headed
THE ADAMLESS EDEN, was almost libelous, and I
admit that for a long time it dimmed our enjoy-
ment of our belovedretreat. Then, gradually, my
old friends died, Mrs. Dietrick among the first;
others moved away; and the character of the entire
region changed. It became fashionable, privacy
was no longer to be found there, and we ceased to
visit it. For five years I have not even seen the
cottage.
In 1908 I built the house I now occupy (in Moylan,
Pennsylvania), which is the realization of a desire
I have always had--to build on a tract which had a
stream, a grove of trees, great boulders and rocks,
and a hill site for the house with a broad outlook,
and a railroad station conveniently near. The
friend who finally found the place for me had begun
his quest with the pessimistic remark that I would
better wait for it until I got to Paradise; but two
years later he telegraphed me that he had discovered
it on this planet, and he was right. I have only
eight acres of land, but no one could ask a more ideal
site for a cottage; and on the place is my beloved
forest, including a grove of three hundred firs.
From every country I have visited I have brought
back a tiny tree for this little forest, and now it
is as full of memories as of beauty.
To the surprise of my neighbors, I built my house
with its back toward the public road, facing the
valley and the stream. ``But you will never see
anybody go by,'' they protested. I answered that
the one person in the house who was necessarily in-
terested in passers-by was my maid, and she could see
them perfectly from the kitchen, which faced the
road. I enjoy my views from the broad veranda
that overlooks the valley, the stream, and the
country for miles around.
Every suffragist I have ever met has been a
lover of home; and only the conviction that she is
fighting for her home, her children, for other women,
or for all of these, has sustained her in her public
work. Looking back on many campaign experi-
ences, I am forced to admit that it is not always the
privations we endure which make us think most
tenderly of home. Often we are more overcome
by the attentions of well-meaning friends. As an
example of this I recall an incident of one Oregon
campaign. I was to speak in a small city in the
southern part of the state, and on reaching the
station, hot, tired, and covered with the grime
of a midsummer journey, I found awaiting me a
delegation of citizens, a brass-band, and a white
carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses.
In this carriage, and devotedly escorted by the citi-
zens and the band, the latter playing its hardest, I
was driven to the City Hall and there met by the
mayor, who delivered an address, after which I was
crowned with a laurelwreath. Subsequently, with
this wreath still resting upon my perspiring brow, I
was again driven through the streets of the city;
and if ever a woman felt that her place was in the
home and longed to be in her place, I felt it that day.
An almost equallytrying occasion had San Fran-
cisco for its setting. The city had arranged a Fourth
of July celebration, at which Miss Anthony and I
were to speak. Here we rode in a carriage deco-
rated with flowers--yellow roses--while just in front
of us was the mayor in a carriage gorgeously fes-
tooned with purple blossoms. Behind us, for more
than a mile, stretched a procession of uniformed
policemen, soldiers, and citizens, while the sidewalks
were lined with men and women whose enthusiastic
greetings came to Miss Anthony from every side.
She was enchanted over the whole experience, for
to her it meant, as always, not a personal tribute,
but a triumph of the Cause. But I sat by her side
acutely miserable; for across my shoulders and
breast had been draped a huge sash with the word
``Orator'' emblazoned on it, and this was further
embellished by a striking rosette with streamers
which hung nearly to the bottom of my gown. It
is almost unnecessary to add that this remarkable
decoration was furnished by a committee of men, and
was also worn by all the men speakers of the day.
Possibly I was overheated by the sash, or by the
emotions the sash aroused in me, for I was stricken
with pneumonia the following day and experienced
my first serious illness, from which, however, I soon
recovered.
On our way to California in 1895 Miss Anthony
and I spent a day at Cheyenne, Wyoming, as the
guests of Senator and Mrs. Carey, who gave a dinner
for us. At the table I asked Senator Carey what he
considered the best result of the enfranchisement of
Wyoming women, and even after the lapse of twenty
years I am able to give his reply almost word for
word, for it impressed me deeply at the time and I
have since quoted it again and again.
``There have been many good results,'' he said,
``but the one I consider above all the others is the
great change for the better in the character of our
candidates for office. Consider this for a moment:
Since our women have voted there has never been
an embezzlement of public funds, or a scandalous
misuse of public funds, or a disgraceful condition of
graft. I attribute the better character of our public
officials almost entirely to the votes of the women.''
``Those are inspiring facts,'' I conceded, ``but
let us be just. There are three men in Wyoming
to every woman, and no candidate for office could
be elected unless the men voted for him, too. Why,
then, don't they deserve as much credit for his
election as the women?''
``Because,'' explained Senator Carey, promptly,
``women are politically an uncertainfactor. We
can go among men and learn beforehand how they
are going to vote, but we can't do that with women;
they keep us guessing. In the old days, when we
went into the caucus we knew what resolutions put
into our platforms would win the votes of the ranch-
men, what would win the miners, what would win
the men of different nationalities; but we did not
know how to win the votes of the women until we
began to nominate our candidates. Then we im-
mediately discovered that if the Democrats nomi-
nated a man of immoral character for office, the
women voted for his Republican opponent, and we
learned our first big lesson--that whatever a candi-
date's other qualifications for office may be, he must
first of all have a clean record. In the old days,
when we nominated a candidate we asked, `Can he
hold the saloon vote?' Now we ask, `Can he hold
the women's vote?' Instead of bidding down to
the saloon, we bid up to the home.''
Following the dinner there was a large public
meeting, at which Miss Anthony and I were to speak.
Mrs. Jenkins, who was president of the Suffrage
Association of the state, presided and introduced us
to the assemblage. Then she added: ``I have intro-
duced you ladies to your audience. Now I would
like to introduce your audience to you.'' She be-
gan with the two Senators and the member of Con-
gress, then introduced the Governor, the Lieutenant-
Governor, the state Superintendent of Education,
and numerous city and state officials. As she went
on Miss Anthony grew more and more excited, and
when the introductions were over, she said: ``This is
the first time I have ever seen an audience assembled
for woman suffrage made up of the public officials
of a state. No one can ever persuade me now that
men respect women without political power as much
as they respect women who have it; for certainly
in no other state in the Union would it be possible
to gather so many public officials under one roof to
listen to the addresses of women.''
The following spring we again went West, with
Mrs. Catt, Lucy Anthony, Miss Hay and Miss
Sweet, her secretary, to carry on the Pacific coast
campaign of '96, arranged by Mrs. Cooper and her
daughter Harriet, of Oakland--both women of re-
markable executiveability. Headquarters were se-
cured in San Francisco, and Miss Hay was put in
charge, associated with a large group of California
women. It was the second time in the history of
campaigns--the first being in New York--that all
the money to carry on the work was raised by the
people of the state.
The last days of the campaign were extremely
interesting, and one of their important events was
that the Hon. Thomas Reed, then Speaker of the
House of Representatives, for the first time came
out publicly for suffrage. Mr. Reed had often ex-
pressed himself privately as in favor of the Cause--
but he had never made a public statement for us.
At Oakland, one day, the indefatigable and irresisti-
ble ``Aunt Susan'' caught him off his guard by per-
suading his daughter, Kitty Reed, who was his idol,
to ask him to say just one word in favor of our
amendment. When he arose we did not know
whether he had promised what she asked, and as
his speech progressed our hearts sank lower and
lower, for all he said was remote from our Cause.
But he ended with these words:
``There is an amendment of the constitution
pending, granting suffrage to women. The women
of California ought to have suffrage. The men of
California ought to give it to them--and the next
speaker, Dr. Shaw, will tell you why.''
The word was spoken. And though it was not a
very strong word, it came from a strong man, and
therefore helped us.
Election day, as usual, brought its surprises and
revelations. Mrs. Cooper asked her Chinese cook
how the Chinese were voting--i. e., the native-born
Chinamen who were entitled to vote--and he re-
plied, blithely, ``All Chinamen vote for Billy McKee
and `NO' to women!'' It is an interesting fact that
day newspaper, illustrated with pictures showing us
all in knickerbockers. In this striking work of art
I carried a fish net and pole and wore a handkerchief
tied over my head. The article, which was headed
THE ADAMLESS EDEN, was almost libelous, and I
admit that for a long time it dimmed our enjoy-
ment of our belovedretreat. Then, gradually, my
old friends died, Mrs. Dietrick among the first;
others moved away; and the character of the entire
region changed. It became fashionable, privacy
was no longer to be found there, and we ceased to
visit it. For five years I have not even seen the
cottage.
In 1908 I built the house I now occupy (in Moylan,
Pennsylvania), which is the realization of a desire
I have always had--to build on a tract which had a
stream, a grove of trees, great boulders and rocks,
and a hill site for the house with a broad outlook,
and a railroad station conveniently near. The
friend who finally found the place for me had begun
his quest with the pessimistic remark that I would
better wait for it until I got to Paradise; but two
years later he telegraphed me that he had discovered
it on this planet, and he was right. I have only
eight acres of land, but no one could ask a more ideal
site for a cottage; and on the place is my beloved
forest, including a grove of three hundred firs.
From every country I have visited I have brought
back a tiny tree for this little forest, and now it
is as full of memories as of beauty.
To the surprise of my neighbors, I built my house
with its back toward the public road, facing the
valley and the stream. ``But you will never see
anybody go by,'' they protested. I answered that
the one person in the house who was necessarily in-
terested in passers-by was my maid, and she could see
them perfectly from the kitchen, which faced the
road. I enjoy my views from the broad veranda
that overlooks the valley, the stream, and the
country for miles around.
Every suffragist I have ever met has been a
lover of home; and only the conviction that she is
fighting for her home, her children, for other women,
or for all of these, has sustained her in her public
work. Looking back on many campaign experi-
ences, I am forced to admit that it is not always the
privations we endure which make us think most
tenderly of home. Often we are more overcome
by the attentions of well-meaning friends. As an
example of this I recall an incident of one Oregon
campaign. I was to speak in a small city in the
southern part of the state, and on reaching the
station, hot, tired, and covered with the grime
of a midsummer journey, I found awaiting me a
delegation of citizens, a brass-band, and a white
carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses.
In this carriage, and devotedly escorted by the citi-
zens and the band, the latter playing its hardest, I
was driven to the City Hall and there met by the
mayor, who delivered an address, after which I was
crowned with a laurelwreath. Subsequently, with
this wreath still resting upon my perspiring brow, I
was again driven through the streets of the city;
and if ever a woman felt that her place was in the
home and longed to be in her place, I felt it that day.
An almost equallytrying occasion had San Fran-
cisco for its setting. The city had arranged a Fourth
of July celebration, at which Miss Anthony and I
were to speak. Here we rode in a carriage deco-
rated with flowers--yellow roses--while just in front
of us was the mayor in a carriage gorgeously fes-
tooned with purple blossoms. Behind us, for more
than a mile, stretched a procession of uniformed
policemen, soldiers, and citizens, while the sidewalks
were lined with men and women whose enthusiastic
greetings came to Miss Anthony from every side.
She was enchanted over the whole experience, for
to her it meant, as always, not a personal tribute,
but a triumph of the Cause. But I sat by her side
acutely miserable; for across my shoulders and
breast had been draped a huge sash with the word
``Orator'' emblazoned on it, and this was further
embellished by a striking rosette with streamers
which hung nearly to the bottom of my gown. It
is almost unnecessary to add that this remarkable
decoration was furnished by a committee of men, and
was also worn by all the men speakers of the day.
Possibly I was overheated by the sash, or by the
emotions the sash aroused in me, for I was stricken
with pneumonia the following day and experienced
my first serious illness, from which, however, I soon
recovered.
On our way to California in 1895 Miss Anthony
and I spent a day at Cheyenne, Wyoming, as the
guests of Senator and Mrs. Carey, who gave a dinner
for us. At the table I asked Senator Carey what he
considered the best result of the enfranchisement of
Wyoming women, and even after the lapse of twenty
years I am able to give his reply almost word for
word, for it impressed me deeply at the time and I
have since quoted it again and again.
``There have been many good results,'' he said,
``but the one I consider above all the others is the
great change for the better in the character of our
candidates for office. Consider this for a moment:
Since our women have voted there has never been
an embezzlement of public funds, or a scandalous
misuse of public funds, or a disgraceful condition of
graft. I attribute the better character of our public
officials almost entirely to the votes of the women.''
``Those are inspiring facts,'' I conceded, ``but
let us be just. There are three men in Wyoming
to every woman, and no candidate for office could
be elected unless the men voted for him, too. Why,
then, don't they deserve as much credit for his
election as the women?''
``Because,'' explained Senator Carey, promptly,
``women are politically an uncertainfactor. We
can go among men and learn beforehand how they
are going to vote, but we can't do that with women;
they keep us guessing. In the old days, when we
went into the caucus we knew what resolutions put
into our platforms would win the votes of the ranch-
men, what would win the miners, what would win
the men of different nationalities; but we did not
know how to win the votes of the women until we
began to nominate our candidates. Then we im-
mediately discovered that if the Democrats nomi-
nated a man of immoral character for office, the
women voted for his Republican opponent, and we
learned our first big lesson--that whatever a candi-
date's other qualifications for office may be, he must
first of all have a clean record. In the old days,
when we nominated a candidate we asked, `Can he
hold the saloon vote?' Now we ask, `Can he hold
the women's vote?' Instead of bidding down to
the saloon, we bid up to the home.''
Following the dinner there was a large public
meeting, at which Miss Anthony and I were to speak.
Mrs. Jenkins, who was president of the Suffrage
Association of the state, presided and introduced us
to the assemblage. Then she added: ``I have intro-
duced you ladies to your audience. Now I would
like to introduce your audience to you.'' She be-
gan with the two Senators and the member of Con-
gress, then introduced the Governor, the Lieutenant-
Governor, the state Superintendent of Education,
and numerous city and state officials. As she went
on Miss Anthony grew more and more excited, and
when the introductions were over, she said: ``This is
the first time I have ever seen an audience assembled
for woman suffrage made up of the public officials
of a state. No one can ever persuade me now that
men respect women without political power as much
as they respect women who have it; for certainly
in no other state in the Union would it be possible
to gather so many public officials under one roof to
listen to the addresses of women.''
The following spring we again went West, with
Mrs. Catt, Lucy Anthony, Miss Hay and Miss
Sweet, her secretary, to carry on the Pacific coast
campaign of '96, arranged by Mrs. Cooper and her
daughter Harriet, of Oakland--both women of re-
markable executiveability. Headquarters were se-
cured in San Francisco, and Miss Hay was put in
charge, associated with a large group of California
women. It was the second time in the history of
campaigns--the first being in New York--that all
the money to carry on the work was raised by the
people of the state.
The last days of the campaign were extremely
interesting, and one of their important events was
that the Hon. Thomas Reed, then Speaker of the
House of Representatives, for the first time came
out publicly for suffrage. Mr. Reed had often ex-
pressed himself privately as in favor of the Cause--
but he had never made a public statement for us.
At Oakland, one day, the indefatigable and irresisti-
ble ``Aunt Susan'' caught him off his guard by per-
suading his daughter, Kitty Reed, who was his idol,
to ask him to say just one word in favor of our
amendment. When he arose we did not know
whether he had promised what she asked, and as
his speech progressed our hearts sank lower and
lower, for all he said was remote from our Cause.
But he ended with these words:
``There is an amendment of the constitution
pending, granting suffrage to women. The women
of California ought to have suffrage. The men of
California ought to give it to them--and the next
speaker, Dr. Shaw, will tell you why.''
The word was spoken. And though it was not a
very strong word, it came from a strong man, and
therefore helped us.
Election day, as usual, brought its surprises and
revelations. Mrs. Cooper asked her Chinese cook
how the Chinese were voting--i. e., the native-born
Chinamen who were entitled to vote--and he re-
plied, blithely, ``All Chinamen vote for Billy McKee
and `NO' to women!'' It is an interesting fact that
- striking [´straikiŋ]
a.显著的，明显的 (初中英语单词) - beloved [bi´lʌvd] a.为....所爱的 n.爱人 (初中英语单词)
- retreat [ri´tri:t] v.&n.退却；撤退；放弃 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- realization [,riəlai´zeiʃən] n.实现；认识 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- planet [´plænit] n.行星 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- conviction [kən´vikʃən] n.定罪；确信，信服 (初中英语单词)
- endure [in´djuə] vt.忍耐，忍受；坚持 (初中英语单词)
- incident [´insidənt] n.小事件；事变 (初中英语单词)
- carriage [´kæridʒ] n.马车；客车；货运 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- wreath [ri:θ] n.花圈；花环；圈状物 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
- procession [prə´seʃən] n.队伍 v.列队行进 (初中英语单词)
- triumph [´traiəmf] n.胜利 vi.得胜，战胜 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- illness [´ilnis] n.生病，不健康，疾病 (初中英语单词)
- california [,kæli´fɔ:njə] n.加利福尼亚 (初中英语单词)
- attribute [ə´tribju:t] n.象征 vt.归因于 (初中英语单词)
- candidate [´kændideit] n.候选人；投考者 (初中英语单词)
- deserve [di´zə:v] v.应受；值得 (初中英语单词)
- uncertain [ʌn´sə:tn] a.不定的；不可靠的 (初中英语单词)
- factor [´fæktə] n.因素；原动力；要素 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- audience [´ɔ:diəns] n.听众；观众；接见 (初中英语单词)
- governor [´gʌvənə] n.总督；州长 (初中英语单词)
- persuade [pə´sweid] v.(被)说服；使相信 (初中英语单词)
- executive [ig´zekjutiv] a.行政的 n.行政官 (初中英语单词)
- ability [ə´biliti] n.(办事)能力；才干 (初中英语单词)
- headquarters [´hed,kwɔ:təz] n.总部(署)，司令部 (初中英语单词)
- speaker [´spi:kə] n.演讲人；代言人 (初中英语单词)
- remote [ri´məut] a.遥远的；偏僻的 (初中英语单词)
- amendment [ə´mendmənt] n.改正，修订；修正案 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- fashionable [´fæʃənəbəl] a.流行的，时髦的 (高中英语单词)
- necessarily [´nesisərili] ad.必定，必然地 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- campaign [kæm´pein] n.战役；行动 vi.从军 (高中英语单词)
- laurel [´lɔrəl] n.月桂树(叶)；桂冠 (高中英语单词)
- subsequently [´sʌbsikwəntli] a.其次，接着 (高中英语单词)
- celebration [,seli´breiʃən] n.庆祝(会)；庆典 (高中英语单词)
- nominate [´nɔmineit] vt.提名；推荐；命名 (高中英语单词)
- opponent [ə´pəunənt] a.对立的 n.对手 (高中英语单词)
- saloon [sə´lu:n] n.大厅；餐车 (高中英语单词)
- superintendent [,su:pərin´tendənt, ,sju:-] n.管理人，负责人 (高中英语单词)
- suffrage [´sʌfridʒ] n.投票(权)，选举权 (高中英语单词)
- pacific [pə´sifik] a.和平的；温和的 (高中英语单词)
- conveniently [kən´vi:njəntli] ad.方便地；合宜地 (英语四级单词)
- midsummer [´mid,sʌmə] n.仲夏；夏至 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- setting [´setiŋ] n.安装；排字；布景 (英语四级单词)
- wyoming [wai´əumiŋ] n.怀俄明(州) (英语四级单词)
- beforehand [bi´fɔ:hænd] ad.事先；提前 (英语四级单词)
- republican [ri´pʌblikən] a.共和国的 n.共和论者 (英语四级单词)
- sensational [sen´seiʃənəl] a.感觉的；轰动的 (英语六级单词)
- pneumonia [nju:´məuniə] n.肺炎 (英语六级单词)
- disgraceful [dis´greisful] a.可耻的；不光彩的 (英语六级单词)
- cooper [´ku:pə] v.&n.制桶工人；修桶工人 (英语六级单词)
- publicly [´pʌblikli] ad.公然；公众所有地 (英语六级单词)
- privately [´praivitli] ad.秘密，一个人 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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