章节正文
It was at the time of these campaigns that I was
elected Vice-President of the National Association
and Lecturer at Large, and the latter office brought
in its train a glittering variety of experiences. On
one occasion an episode occurred which ``Aunt
Susan'' never afterward wearied of describing.
There was a wreck somewhere on the road on which
I was to travel to meet a lecture engagement, and
the trains going my way were not running. Look-
ing up the track, however, I saw a train coming
from the opposite direction. I at once grasped my
hand-luggage and started for it.
``Wait! Wait!'' cried Miss Anthony. ``That
train's going the wrong way!''
``At least it's going SOMEWHERE!'' I replied, tersely,
as the train stopped, and I climbed the steps.
Looking back when the train had started again,
I saw ``Aunt Susan'' standing in the same spot on
the platform and staring after it with incredulous
eyes; but I was right, for I discovered that by going
up into another state I could get a train which
would take me to my destination in time for the
lecture that night. It was a fine illustration of my
pet theory that if one intends to get somewhere it
is better to start, even in the wrong direction, than
to stand still.
Again and again in our work we had occasion to
marvel over men's lack of understanding of the
views of women, even of those nearest and dearest to
them; and we had an especially striking illustra-
tion of this at one of our hearings in Washington.
A certain distinguished gentleman (we will call him
Mr. H----) was chairman of the Judiciary, and after
we had said what we wished to say, he remarked:
``Your arguments are logical. Your cause is just.
The trouble is that women don't want suffrage.
My wife doesn't want it. I don't know a single
woman who does want it.''
As it happened for this unfortunate gentleman,
his wife was present at the hearing and sitting beside
Miss Anthony. She listened to his words with sur-
prise, and then whispered to ``Aunt Susan'':
``How CAN he say that? _I_ want suffrage, and I've
told him so a hundred times in the last twenty
years.''
``Tell him again NOW,'' urged Miss Anthony.
``Here's your chance to impress it on his memory.''
``Here!'' gasped the wife. ``Oh, I wouldn't
dare.''
``Then may I tell him?''
``Why--yes! He can think what he pleases, but
he has no right to publicly misrepresent me.''
The assent, hesitatingly begun, finished on a sud-
den note of firmness. Miss Anthony stood up.
``It may interest Mr. H----,'' she said, ``to know
that his wife DOES wish to vote, and that for twenty
years she has wished to vote, and has often told him
so, though he has evidently forgotten it. She is
here beside me, and has just made this explana-
tion.''
Mr. H---- stammered and hesitated, and finally
decided to laugh. But there was no mirth in the
sound he made, and I am afraid his wife had a bad
quarter of an hour when they met a little later in
the privacy of their home.
Among other duties that fell to my lot at this
period were numerous suffragedebates with promi-
nent opponents of the Cause. I have already re-
ferred to the debate in Kansas with Senator Ingalls.
Equaling this in importance was a bout with Dr.
Buckley, the distinguished Methodist debater, which
had been arranged for us at Chautauqua by Bishop
Vincent of the Methodist Church. The bishop was
not a believer in suffrage, nor was he one of my
admirers. I had once aroused his ire by replying
to a sermon he had delivered on ``God's Women,''
and by proving, to my own satisfaction at least,
that the women he thought were God's women had
done very little, whereas the work of the world had
been done by those he believed were not ``God's
Women.'' There was considerable interest, there-
fore, in the Buckley-Shaw debate he had arranged;
we all knew he expected Dr. Buckley to wipe out
that old score, and I was determined to make it as
difficult as possible for the distinguished gentleman
to do so. We held the debate on two succeeding
days, I speaking one afternoon and Dr. Buckley
replying the following day. On the evening before
I spoke, however, Dr. Buckley made an indiscreet
remark, which, blown about Chautauqua on the
light breeze of gossip, was generally regarded as both
unchivalrous and unfair.
As the hall in which we were to speak was enor-
mous, he declared that one of two things would cer-
tainly happen. Either I would scream in order to
be heard by my great audience, or I would be un-
able to make myself heard at all. If I screamed it
would be a powerful argument against women as
public speakers; if I could not be heard, it would be
an even better argument. In either case, he sum-
med up, I was doomed to failure. Following out
this theory, he posted men in the extreme rear of
the great hall on the day of my lecture, to report to
him whether my words reached them, while he him-
self graciously occupied a front seat. Bishop Vin-
cent's antagonistic feeling was so strong, however,
that though, as the presiding officer of the occasion,
he introduced me to the audience, he did not wait
to hear my speech, but immediately left the hall--
and this little slight added to the public's interest
in the debate. It was felt that the two gentlemen
were not quite ``playing fair,'' and the champions
of the Cause were especially enthusiastic in their
efforts to make up for these failures in courtesy.
My friends turned out in force to hear the lecture,
and on the breast of every one of them flamed the
yellow bow that stood for suffrage, giving to the
vast hall something of the effect of a field of yellow
tulips in full bloom.
When Dr. Buckley rose to reply the next day
these friends were again awaiting him with an equal-
ly jocund display of the suffrage color, and this did
not add to his serenity. During his remarks he
made the serious mistake of losing his temper; and,
unfortunately for him, he directed his wrath toward
a very old man who had thoughtlessly applauded by
pounding on the floor with his cane when Dr.
Buckley quoted a point I had made. The doctor
leaned forward and shook his fist at him.
``Think she's right, do you?'' he asked.
``Yes,'' admitted the venerable citizen, briskly,
though a little startled by the manner of the ques-
tion.
``Old man,'' shouted Dr. Buckley, ``I'll make you
take that back if you've got a grain of sense in your
head!''
The insult cost him his audience. When he
realized this he lost all his self-possession, and, as
the Buffalo Courier put it the next day, ``went up
and down the platform raving like a Billingsgate
fishwife.'' He lost the debate, and the supply of
yellow ribbon left in the surrounding counties was
purchased that night to be used in the suffrage
celebration that followed. My friends still refer to
the occasion as ``the day we wiped up the earth
with Dr. Buckley''; but I do not deserve the im-
plied tribute, for Dr. Buckley would have lost his
case without a word from me. What really gave
me some satisfaction, however, was the respective
degree of freshness with which he and I emerged
from our combat. After my speech Miss Anthony
and I were given a reception, and stood for hours
shaking hands with hundreds of men and women.
Later in the evening we had a dinner and another
reception, which, lasting, as they did, until midnight,
kept us from our repose. Dr. Buckley, poor gentle-
man, had to be taken to his hotel immediately after
his speech, given a hot bath, rubbed down, and put
tenderly to bed; and not even the sympathetic
heart of Susan B. Anthony yearned over him when
she heard of his exhaustion.
It was also at Chautauqua, by the way, though a
number of years earlier, that I had my much mis-
quoted encounter with the minister who deplored
the fashion I followed in those days of wearing my
hair short. This young man, who was rather a
pompous person, saw fit to take me to task at a
table where a number of us were dining together.
``Miss Shaw,'' he said, abruptly, ``I have been
asked very often why you wear your hair short,
and I have not been able to explain. Of course''--
this kindly--'' I know there is some good reason. I
ventured to advance the theory that you have been
ill and that your hair has fallen out. Is that it?''
``No,'' I told him. ``There is a reason, as you
suggest. But it is not that one.''
``Then why--'' he insisted.
``I am rather sensitive about it,'' I explained.
``I don't know that I care to discuss the subject.''
The young minister looked pained. ``But among
friends--'' he protested.
``True,'' I conceded. ``Well, then, among friends,
I will admit frankly that it is a birthmark. I was
born with short hair.''
That was the last time my short hair was criticized
in my presence, but the young minister was right
in his disapproval and I was wrong, as I subsequently
realized. A few years later I let my hair grow long,
for I had learned that no woman in public life can
afford to make herself conspicuous by any eccen-
tricity of dress or appearance. If she does so she
suffers for it herself, which may not disturb her, and
to a greater or less degree she injures the cause she
represents, which should disturb her very much.
XII
BUILDING A HOME
It is not generally known that the meeting of
the International Council of Women held in
Chicago during the World's Fair was suggested by
Miss Anthony, as was also the appointment of the
Exposition's ``Board of Lady Managers.'' ``Aunt
elected Vice-President of the National Association
and Lecturer at Large, and the latter office brought
in its train a glittering variety of experiences. On
one occasion an episode occurred which ``Aunt
Susan'' never afterward wearied of describing.
There was a wreck somewhere on the road on which
I was to travel to meet a lecture engagement, and
the trains going my way were not running. Look-
ing up the track, however, I saw a train coming
from the opposite direction. I at once grasped my
hand-luggage and started for it.
``Wait! Wait!'' cried Miss Anthony. ``That
train's going the wrong way!''
``At least it's going SOMEWHERE!'' I replied, tersely,
as the train stopped, and I climbed the steps.
Looking back when the train had started again,
I saw ``Aunt Susan'' standing in the same spot on
the platform and staring after it with incredulous
eyes; but I was right, for I discovered that by going
up into another state I could get a train which
would take me to my destination in time for the
lecture that night. It was a fine illustration of my
pet theory that if one intends to get somewhere it
is better to start, even in the wrong direction, than
to stand still.
Again and again in our work we had occasion to
marvel over men's lack of understanding of the
views of women, even of those nearest and dearest to
them; and we had an especially striking illustra-
tion of this at one of our hearings in Washington.
A certain distinguished gentleman (we will call him
Mr. H----) was chairman of the Judiciary, and after
we had said what we wished to say, he remarked:
``Your arguments are logical. Your cause is just.
The trouble is that women don't want suffrage.
My wife doesn't want it. I don't know a single
woman who does want it.''
As it happened for this unfortunate gentleman,
his wife was present at the hearing and sitting beside
Miss Anthony. She listened to his words with sur-
prise, and then whispered to ``Aunt Susan'':
``How CAN he say that? _I_ want suffrage, and I've
told him so a hundred times in the last twenty
years.''
``Tell him again NOW,'' urged Miss Anthony.
``Here's your chance to impress it on his memory.''
``Here!'' gasped the wife. ``Oh, I wouldn't
dare.''
``Then may I tell him?''
``Why--yes! He can think what he pleases, but
he has no right to publicly misrepresent me.''
The assent, hesitatingly begun, finished on a sud-
den note of firmness. Miss Anthony stood up.
``It may interest Mr. H----,'' she said, ``to know
that his wife DOES wish to vote, and that for twenty
years she has wished to vote, and has often told him
so, though he has evidently forgotten it. She is
here beside me, and has just made this explana-
tion.''
Mr. H---- stammered and hesitated, and finally
decided to laugh. But there was no mirth in the
sound he made, and I am afraid his wife had a bad
quarter of an hour when they met a little later in
the privacy of their home.
Among other duties that fell to my lot at this
period were numerous suffragedebates with promi-
nent opponents of the Cause. I have already re-
ferred to the debate in Kansas with Senator Ingalls.
Equaling this in importance was a bout with Dr.
Buckley, the distinguished Methodist debater, which
had been arranged for us at Chautauqua by Bishop
Vincent of the Methodist Church. The bishop was
not a believer in suffrage, nor was he one of my
admirers. I had once aroused his ire by replying
to a sermon he had delivered on ``God's Women,''
and by proving, to my own satisfaction at least,
that the women he thought were God's women had
done very little, whereas the work of the world had
been done by those he believed were not ``God's
Women.'' There was considerable interest, there-
fore, in the Buckley-Shaw debate he had arranged;
we all knew he expected Dr. Buckley to wipe out
that old score, and I was determined to make it as
difficult as possible for the distinguished gentleman
to do so. We held the debate on two succeeding
days, I speaking one afternoon and Dr. Buckley
replying the following day. On the evening before
I spoke, however, Dr. Buckley made an indiscreet
remark, which, blown about Chautauqua on the
light breeze of gossip, was generally regarded as both
unchivalrous and unfair.
As the hall in which we were to speak was enor-
mous, he declared that one of two things would cer-
tainly happen. Either I would scream in order to
be heard by my great audience, or I would be un-
able to make myself heard at all. If I screamed it
would be a powerful argument against women as
public speakers; if I could not be heard, it would be
an even better argument. In either case, he sum-
med up, I was doomed to failure. Following out
this theory, he posted men in the extreme rear of
the great hall on the day of my lecture, to report to
him whether my words reached them, while he him-
self graciously occupied a front seat. Bishop Vin-
cent's antagonistic feeling was so strong, however,
that though, as the presiding officer of the occasion,
he introduced me to the audience, he did not wait
to hear my speech, but immediately left the hall--
and this little slight added to the public's interest
in the debate. It was felt that the two gentlemen
were not quite ``playing fair,'' and the champions
of the Cause were especially enthusiastic in their
efforts to make up for these failures in courtesy.
My friends turned out in force to hear the lecture,
and on the breast of every one of them flamed the
yellow bow that stood for suffrage, giving to the
vast hall something of the effect of a field of yellow
tulips in full bloom.
When Dr. Buckley rose to reply the next day
these friends were again awaiting him with an equal-
ly jocund display of the suffrage color, and this did
not add to his serenity. During his remarks he
made the serious mistake of losing his temper; and,
unfortunately for him, he directed his wrath toward
a very old man who had thoughtlessly applauded by
pounding on the floor with his cane when Dr.
Buckley quoted a point I had made. The doctor
leaned forward and shook his fist at him.
``Think she's right, do you?'' he asked.
``Yes,'' admitted the venerable citizen, briskly,
though a little startled by the manner of the ques-
tion.
``Old man,'' shouted Dr. Buckley, ``I'll make you
take that back if you've got a grain of sense in your
head!''
The insult cost him his audience. When he
realized this he lost all his self-possession, and, as
the Buffalo Courier put it the next day, ``went up
and down the platform raving like a Billingsgate
fishwife.'' He lost the debate, and the supply of
yellow ribbon left in the surrounding counties was
purchased that night to be used in the suffrage
celebration that followed. My friends still refer to
the occasion as ``the day we wiped up the earth
with Dr. Buckley''; but I do not deserve the im-
plied tribute, for Dr. Buckley would have lost his
case without a word from me. What really gave
me some satisfaction, however, was the respective
degree of freshness with which he and I emerged
from our combat. After my speech Miss Anthony
and I were given a reception, and stood for hours
shaking hands with hundreds of men and women.
Later in the evening we had a dinner and another
reception, which, lasting, as they did, until midnight,
kept us from our repose. Dr. Buckley, poor gentle-
man, had to be taken to his hotel immediately after
his speech, given a hot bath, rubbed down, and put
tenderly to bed; and not even the sympathetic
heart of Susan B. Anthony yearned over him when
she heard of his exhaustion.
It was also at Chautauqua, by the way, though a
number of years earlier, that I had my much mis-
quoted encounter with the minister who deplored
the fashion I followed in those days of wearing my
hair short. This young man, who was rather a
pompous person, saw fit to take me to task at a
table where a number of us were dining together.
``Miss Shaw,'' he said, abruptly, ``I have been
asked very often why you wear your hair short,
and I have not been able to explain. Of course''--
this kindly--'' I know there is some good reason. I
ventured to advance the theory that you have been
ill and that your hair has fallen out. Is that it?''
``No,'' I told him. ``There is a reason, as you
suggest. But it is not that one.''
``Then why--'' he insisted.
``I am rather sensitive about it,'' I explained.
``I don't know that I care to discuss the subject.''
The young minister looked pained. ``But among
friends--'' he protested.
``True,'' I conceded. ``Well, then, among friends,
I will admit frankly that it is a birthmark. I was
born with short hair.''
That was the last time my short hair was criticized
in my presence, but the young minister was right
in his disapproval and I was wrong, as I subsequently
realized. A few years later I let my hair grow long,
for I had learned that no woman in public life can
afford to make herself conspicuous by any eccen-
tricity of dress or appearance. If she does so she
suffers for it herself, which may not disturb her, and
to a greater or less degree she injures the cause she
represents, which should disturb her very much.
XII
BUILDING A HOME
It is not generally known that the meeting of
the International Council of Women held in
Chicago during the World's Fair was suggested by
Miss Anthony, as was also the appointment of the
Exposition's ``Board of Lady Managers.'' ``Aunt
- variety [və´raiəti]
n.变化；多样(性)；种类 (初中英语单词) - engagement [in´geidʒmənt] n.婚约；雇用；受聘 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- illustration [,ilə´streiʃən] n.插图，图解，例证 (初中英语单词)
- striking [´straikiŋ] a.显著的，明显的 (初中英语单词)
- unfortunate [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunit] a.不幸的，运气差的 (初中英语单词)
- impress [im´pres, ´impres] v.铭刻 n.印记；特征 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- debate [di´beit] n.&v.讨论，辩论 (初中英语单词)
- bishop [´biʃəp] n.主教 (初中英语单词)
- satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
- whereas [weər´æz] conj.鉴于；因此；而 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- breeze [bri:z] n.微风；不费力的事 (初中英语单词)
- scream [skri:m] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- audience [´ɔ:diəns] n.听众；观众；接见 (初中英语单词)
- argument [´ɑ:gjumənt] n.辩论；争论；论证 (初中英语单词)
- failure [´feiljə] n.失败；衰竭；破产 (初中英语单词)
- extreme [ik´stri:m] a.尽头的 n.极端 (初中英语单词)
- temper [´tempə] n.韧度 v.锻炼；调和 (初中英语单词)
- insult [in´sʌlt, ´insʌlt] n.&vt.侮辱；损害 (初中英语单词)
- ribbon [´ribən] n.缎带；带子；色带 (初中英语单词)
- deserve [di´zə:v] v.应受；值得 (初中英语单词)
- tribute [´tribju:t] n.贡物；献礼；颂词 (初中英语单词)
- encounter [in´kauntə] vt.&n.偶然相遇；冲突 (初中英语单词)
- minister [´ministə] n.部长；大臣 v.伺候 (初中英语单词)
- abruptly [ə´brʌptli] ad.突然地；粗鲁地 (初中英语单词)
- frankly [´fræŋkli] ad.直率地；慷慨地 (初中英语单词)
- disturb [di´stə:b] vt.扰乱；使不安；打乱 (初中英语单词)
- international [,intə´næʃənəl] a.国际的，世界的 (初中英语单词)
- destination [,desti´neiʃən] n.目标地 (高中英语单词)
- distinguished [di´stiŋgwiʃt] a.卓越的，著名的 (高中英语单词)
- hearing [´hiəriŋ] n.听力；听证会；审讯 (高中英语单词)
- suffrage [´sʌfridʒ] n.投票(权)，选举权 (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- kansas [´kænzəs] n.堪萨斯(州) (高中英语单词)
- sermon [´sə:mən] n.说教；训诫；讲道 (高中英语单词)
- gossip [´gɔsip] n.&vi.说闲话；聊天 (高中英语单词)
- enthusiastic [inθju:zi´æstik] a.热情的，热心的 (高中英语单词)
- buffalo [´bʌfələu] n.水牛；野牛 (高中英语单词)
- surrounding [sə´raundiŋ] n.周围的事物 (高中英语单词)
- combat [´kɔmbæt] v.&n.斗争；战斗；争斗 (高中英语单词)
- reception [ri´sepʃən] n.接待；欢迎；招待会 (高中英语单词)
- lasting [´lɑ:stiŋ] a.持久的；永远的 (高中英语单词)
- repose [ri´pəuz] v.&n.(使)休息；安息 (高中英语单词)
- sensitive [´sensitiv] a.敏感的；感光的 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- conspicuous [kən´spikjuəs] a.显著的；出众的 (高中英语单词)
- vice-president [vais´prezid(ə)nt] n.副总统；副会长 (英语四级单词)
- episode [´episəud] n.插曲；一段情节 (英语四级单词)
- logical [´lɔdʒikəl] a.逻辑(上)的 (英语四级单词)
- firmness [´fə:mnis] n.坚定；坚硬；稳定 (英语四级单词)
- privacy [´praivəsi, -pri] n.隐退；独处；秘密 (英语四级单词)
- believer [bi´li:və] n.信徒 (英语四级单词)
- graciously [´greiʃəsli] ad.仁慈地，和蔼庄重地 (英语四级单词)
- venerable [´venərəbəl] a.可尊敬的；森严的 (英语四级单词)
- freshness [´freʃnis] n.新鲜 (英语四级单词)
- lecturer [´lektʃərə] n.演讲者；讲师 (英语六级单词)
- publicly [´pʌblikli] ad.公然；公众所有地 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- jocund [´dʒɔkənd] a.欢乐的，愉快的 (英语六级单词)
- courier [´kuriə] n.送急件的人；信使 (英语六级单词)
- disapproval [,disə´pru:vəl] n.不赞成；非难 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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