章节正文
When we reached the next station the dead woman
was taken out and laid on the platform, and a nurse
and doctor who had been telegraphed for were wait-
ing to care for the little girl. She was conscious by
this time, and with the most exquisitegentleness my
rustic Bayard lifted her in his arms to carry her off
the train. Quite unnecessarily I motioned to him
not to let her see her dead mother. He was not the
sort who needed that warning; he had already turned
her face to his shoulder, and, with head bent low
above her, was safely skirting the spot where the
long, covered figure lay.
Evidently the station was his destination, too,
for he remained there; but just as the train pulled
out he came hurrying to my window, took the car-
nation from his buttonhole, and without a word
handed it to me. And after the tragic hour in
which I had learned to know him the crushed flower,
from that man, seemed the best fee I had ever
received.
IX
``AUNT SUSAN''
In The Life of Susan B. Anthony it is mentioned
that 1888 was a year of special recognition of our
great leader's work, but that it was also the year
in which many of her closest friends and strongest
supporters were taken from her by death. A. Bron-
son Alcott was among these, and Louisa M. Alcott,
as well as Dr. Lozier; and special stress is laid on
Miss Anthony's sense of loss in the diminishing circle
of her friends--a loss which new friends and workers
came forward, eager to supply.
``Chief among these,'' adds the record, ``was Anna
Shaw, who, from the time of the International Coun-
cil in '88, gave her truest allegiance to Miss An-
thony.''
It is true that from that year until Miss Anthony's
death in 1906 we two were rarely separated; and
I never read the paragraph I have just quoted with-
out seeing, as in a vision, the figure of ``Aunt Susan''
as she slipped into my hotel room in Chicago late
one night after an evening meeting of the Inter-
national Council. I had gone to bed--indeed, I was
almost asleep when she came, for the day had been
as exhausting as it was interesting. But notwith-
standing the lateness of the hour, ``Aunt Susan,''
then nearing seventy, was still as fresh and as full
of enthusiasm as a young girl. She had a great deal
to say, she declared, and she proceeded to say it--
sitting in a big easy-chair near the bed, with a rug
around her knees, while I propped myself up with
pillows and listened.
Hours passed and the dawn peered wanly through
the windows, but still Miss Anthony talked of the
Cause always of the Cause--and of what we two
must do for it. The previous evening she had been
too busy to eat any dinner, and I greatly doubt
whether she had eaten any luncheon at noon. She
had been on her feet for hours at a time, and she
had held numerous discussions with other women
she wished to inspire to special effort. Yet, after
it all, here she was laying out our campaigns for years
ahead, foreseeing everything, forgetting nothing, and
sweeping me with her in her flight toward our com-
mon goal, until I, who am not easily carried off my
feet, experienced an almost dizzy sense of exhilara-
tion.
Suddenly she stopped, looked at the gas-jets paling
in the morning light that filled the room, and for a
fleeting instant seemed surprised. In the next she
had dismissed from her mind the realization that we
had talked all night. Why should we not talk all
night? It was part of our work. She threw off
the enveloping rug and rose.
``I must dress now,'' she said, briskly. ``I've
called a committee meeting before the morning
session.''
On her way to the door nature smote her with a
rare reminder, but even then she did not realize that
it was personal. ``Perhaps,'' she remarked, tenta-
tively, ``you ought to have a cup of coffee.''
That was ``Aunt Susan.'' And in the eighteen
years which followed I had daily illustrations of her
superiority to purely human weaknesses. To her
the hardships we underwent later, in our Western
campaigns for woman suffrage, were as the airiest
trifles. Like a true soldier, she could snatch a mo-
ment of sleep or a mouthful of food where she found
it, and if either was not forthcoming she did not
miss it. To me she was an unceasing inspira-
tion--the torch that illumined my life. We went
through some difficult years together--years when
we fought hard for each inch of headway we gained
--but I found full compensation for every effort in
the glory of working with her for the Cause that was
first in both our hearts, and in the happiness of being
her friend. Later I shall describe in more detail the
suffrage campaigns and the National and Inter-
national councils in which we took part; now it is
of her I wish to write--of her bigness, her many-
sidedness, her humor, her courage, her quickness,
her sympathy, her understanding, her force, her
supreme common-sense, her selflessness; in short, of
the rare beauty of her nature as I learned to know it.
Like most great leaders, she took one's best work
for granted, and was chary with her praise; and even
when praise was given it usually came by indirect
routes. I recall with amusement that the highest
compliment she ever paid me in public involved her
in a tangle from which, later, only her quick wit
extricated her. We were lecturing in an especially
pious town which I shall call B----, and just before
I went on the platform Miss Anthony remarked,
peacefully:
``These people have always claimed that I am ir-
religious. They will not accept the fact that I am
a Quaker--or, rather, they seem to think a Quaker
is an infidel. I am glad you are a Methodist, for
now they cannot claim that we are not orthodox.''
She was still enveloped in the comfort of this re-
flection when she introduced me to our audience,
and to impress my qualifications upon my hearers
she made her introduction in these words:
``It is a pleasure to introduce Miss Shaw, who
is a Methodist minister. And she is not only ortho-
dox of the orthodox, but she is also my right bower!''
There was a gasp from the pious audience, and
then a roar of laughter from irreverent men, in
which, I must confess, I light-heartedly joined. For
once in her life Miss Anthony lost her presence of
mind; she did not know how to meet the situation,
for she had no idea what had caused the laughter.
It bubbled forth again and again during the eve-
ning, and each time Miss Anthony received the dem-
onstration with the same air of puzzled surprise.
When we had returned to our hotel rooms I explained
the matter to her. I do not remember now where
I had acquired my own sinful knowledge, but that
night I faced ``Aunt Susan'' from the pedestal of a
sophisticated worldling.
``Don't you know what a right bower is?'' I de-
manded, sternly.
``Of course I do,'' insisted ``Aunt Susan.'' ``It's
a right-hand man--the kind one can't do without.''
``It is a card,'' I told her, firmly--``a leading card
in a game called euchre.''
``Aunt Susan'' was dazed. ``I didn't know it had
anything to do with cards,'' she mused, mournfully.
``What must they think of me?''
What they thought became quite evident. The
newspapers made countless jokes at our expense,
and there were significant smiles on the faces in the
audience that awaited us the next night. When
Miss Anthony walked upon the platform she at
once proceeded to clear herself of the tacit charge
against her.
``When I came to your town,'' she began, cheer-
fully, ``I had been warned that you were a very
religious lot of people. I wanted to impress upon
you the fact that Miss Shaw and I are religious, too.
But I admit that when I told you she was my right
bower I did not know what a right bower was. I
have learned that, since last night.''
She waited until the happy chortles of her hearers
had subsided, and then went on.
``It interests me very much, however,'' she con-
cluded, ``to realize that every one of you seemed to
know all about a right bower, and that I had to come
to your good, orthodox town to get the informa-
tion.''
That time the joke was on the audience.
Miss Anthony's home was in Rochester, New
York, and it was said by our friends that on the
rare occasions when we were not together, and I was
lecturing independently, ``all return roads led
through Rochester.'' I invariably found some ex-
cuse to go there and report to her. Together we
must have worn out many Rochester pavements,
for ``Aunt Susan's'' pet recreation was walking, and
she used to walk me round and round the city
squares, far into the night, and at a pace that made
policemen gape at us as we flew by. Some dis-
respectful youth once remarked that on these oc-
casions we suggested a race between a ruler and a
rubber ball--for she was very tall and thin, while
I am short and plump. To keep up with her I
literally bounded at her side.
A certain amount of independent lecturing was
necessary for me, for I had to earn my living. The
National American Woman Suffrage Association
has never paid salaries to its officers, so, when I be-
came vice-president and eventually, in 1904, presi-
dent of the association, I continued to work gratui-
tously for the Cause in these positions. Even Miss
Anthony received not one penny of salary for all
her years of unceasing labor, and she was so poor
that she did not have a home of her own until she
was seventy-five. Then it was a very simple one,
and she lived with the utmosteconomy. I decided
that I could earn my bare expenses by making one
brief lecture tour each year, and I made an arrange-
was taken out and laid on the platform, and a nurse
and doctor who had been telegraphed for were wait-
ing to care for the little girl. She was conscious by
this time, and with the most exquisitegentleness my
rustic Bayard lifted her in his arms to carry her off
the train. Quite unnecessarily I motioned to him
not to let her see her dead mother. He was not the
sort who needed that warning; he had already turned
her face to his shoulder, and, with head bent low
above her, was safely skirting the spot where the
long, covered figure lay.
Evidently the station was his destination, too,
for he remained there; but just as the train pulled
out he came hurrying to my window, took the car-
nation from his buttonhole, and without a word
handed it to me. And after the tragic hour in
which I had learned to know him the crushed flower,
from that man, seemed the best fee I had ever
received.
IX
``AUNT SUSAN''
In The Life of Susan B. Anthony it is mentioned
that 1888 was a year of special recognition of our
great leader's work, but that it was also the year
in which many of her closest friends and strongest
supporters were taken from her by death. A. Bron-
son Alcott was among these, and Louisa M. Alcott,
as well as Dr. Lozier; and special stress is laid on
Miss Anthony's sense of loss in the diminishing circle
of her friends--a loss which new friends and workers
came forward, eager to supply.
``Chief among these,'' adds the record, ``was Anna
Shaw, who, from the time of the International Coun-
cil in '88, gave her truest allegiance to Miss An-
thony.''
It is true that from that year until Miss Anthony's
death in 1906 we two were rarely separated; and
I never read the paragraph I have just quoted with-
out seeing, as in a vision, the figure of ``Aunt Susan''
as she slipped into my hotel room in Chicago late
one night after an evening meeting of the Inter-
national Council. I had gone to bed--indeed, I was
almost asleep when she came, for the day had been
as exhausting as it was interesting. But notwith-
standing the lateness of the hour, ``Aunt Susan,''
then nearing seventy, was still as fresh and as full
of enthusiasm as a young girl. She had a great deal
to say, she declared, and she proceeded to say it--
sitting in a big easy-chair near the bed, with a rug
around her knees, while I propped myself up with
pillows and listened.
Hours passed and the dawn peered wanly through
the windows, but still Miss Anthony talked of the
Cause always of the Cause--and of what we two
must do for it. The previous evening she had been
too busy to eat any dinner, and I greatly doubt
whether she had eaten any luncheon at noon. She
had been on her feet for hours at a time, and she
had held numerous discussions with other women
she wished to inspire to special effort. Yet, after
it all, here she was laying out our campaigns for years
ahead, foreseeing everything, forgetting nothing, and
sweeping me with her in her flight toward our com-
mon goal, until I, who am not easily carried off my
feet, experienced an almost dizzy sense of exhilara-
tion.
Suddenly she stopped, looked at the gas-jets paling
in the morning light that filled the room, and for a
fleeting instant seemed surprised. In the next she
had dismissed from her mind the realization that we
had talked all night. Why should we not talk all
night? It was part of our work. She threw off
the enveloping rug and rose.
``I must dress now,'' she said, briskly. ``I've
called a committee meeting before the morning
session.''
On her way to the door nature smote her with a
rare reminder, but even then she did not realize that
it was personal. ``Perhaps,'' she remarked, tenta-
tively, ``you ought to have a cup of coffee.''
That was ``Aunt Susan.'' And in the eighteen
years which followed I had daily illustrations of her
superiority to purely human weaknesses. To her
the hardships we underwent later, in our Western
campaigns for woman suffrage, were as the airiest
trifles. Like a true soldier, she could snatch a mo-
ment of sleep or a mouthful of food where she found
it, and if either was not forthcoming she did not
miss it. To me she was an unceasing inspira-
tion--the torch that illumined my life. We went
through some difficult years together--years when
we fought hard for each inch of headway we gained
--but I found full compensation for every effort in
the glory of working with her for the Cause that was
first in both our hearts, and in the happiness of being
her friend. Later I shall describe in more detail the
suffrage campaigns and the National and Inter-
national councils in which we took part; now it is
of her I wish to write--of her bigness, her many-
sidedness, her humor, her courage, her quickness,
her sympathy, her understanding, her force, her
supreme common-sense, her selflessness; in short, of
the rare beauty of her nature as I learned to know it.
Like most great leaders, she took one's best work
for granted, and was chary with her praise; and even
when praise was given it usually came by indirect
routes. I recall with amusement that the highest
compliment she ever paid me in public involved her
in a tangle from which, later, only her quick wit
extricated her. We were lecturing in an especially
pious town which I shall call B----, and just before
I went on the platform Miss Anthony remarked,
peacefully:
``These people have always claimed that I am ir-
religious. They will not accept the fact that I am
a Quaker--or, rather, they seem to think a Quaker
is an infidel. I am glad you are a Methodist, for
now they cannot claim that we are not orthodox.''
She was still enveloped in the comfort of this re-
flection when she introduced me to our audience,
and to impress my qualifications upon my hearers
she made her introduction in these words:
``It is a pleasure to introduce Miss Shaw, who
is a Methodist minister. And she is not only ortho-
dox of the orthodox, but she is also my right bower!''
There was a gasp from the pious audience, and
then a roar of laughter from irreverent men, in
which, I must confess, I light-heartedly joined. For
once in her life Miss Anthony lost her presence of
mind; she did not know how to meet the situation,
for she had no idea what had caused the laughter.
It bubbled forth again and again during the eve-
ning, and each time Miss Anthony received the dem-
onstration with the same air of puzzled surprise.
When we had returned to our hotel rooms I explained
the matter to her. I do not remember now where
I had acquired my own sinful knowledge, but that
night I faced ``Aunt Susan'' from the pedestal of a
sophisticated worldling.
``Don't you know what a right bower is?'' I de-
manded, sternly.
``Of course I do,'' insisted ``Aunt Susan.'' ``It's
a right-hand man--the kind one can't do without.''
``It is a card,'' I told her, firmly--``a leading card
in a game called euchre.''
``Aunt Susan'' was dazed. ``I didn't know it had
anything to do with cards,'' she mused, mournfully.
``What must they think of me?''
What they thought became quite evident. The
newspapers made countless jokes at our expense,
and there were significant smiles on the faces in the
audience that awaited us the next night. When
Miss Anthony walked upon the platform she at
once proceeded to clear herself of the tacit charge
against her.
``When I came to your town,'' she began, cheer-
fully, ``I had been warned that you were a very
religious lot of people. I wanted to impress upon
you the fact that Miss Shaw and I are religious, too.
But I admit that when I told you she was my right
bower I did not know what a right bower was. I
have learned that, since last night.''
She waited until the happy chortles of her hearers
had subsided, and then went on.
``It interests me very much, however,'' she con-
cluded, ``to realize that every one of you seemed to
know all about a right bower, and that I had to come
to your good, orthodox town to get the informa-
tion.''
That time the joke was on the audience.
Miss Anthony's home was in Rochester, New
York, and it was said by our friends that on the
rare occasions when we were not together, and I was
lecturing independently, ``all return roads led
through Rochester.'' I invariably found some ex-
cuse to go there and report to her. Together we
must have worn out many Rochester pavements,
for ``Aunt Susan's'' pet recreation was walking, and
she used to walk me round and round the city
squares, far into the night, and at a pace that made
policemen gape at us as we flew by. Some dis-
respectful youth once remarked that on these oc-
casions we suggested a race between a ruler and a
rubber ball--for she was very tall and thin, while
I am short and plump. To keep up with her I
literally bounded at her side.
A certain amount of independent lecturing was
necessary for me, for I had to earn my living. The
National American Woman Suffrage Association
has never paid salaries to its officers, so, when I be-
came vice-president and eventually, in 1904, presi-
dent of the association, I continued to work gratui-
tously for the Cause in these positions. Even Miss
Anthony received not one penny of salary for all
her years of unceasing labor, and she was so poor
that she did not have a home of her own until she
was seventy-five. Then it was a very simple one,
and she lived with the utmosteconomy. I decided
that I could earn my bare expenses by making one
brief lecture tour each year, and I made an arrange-
- platform [´plætfɔ:m]
n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词) - conscious [´kɔnʃəs] a.意识的；自觉的 (初中英语单词)
- safely [´seifli] ad.安全地；平安地 (初中英语单词)
- recognition [,rekəg´niʃən] n.认出；认识；承认 (初中英语单词)
- stress [stres] n.强调；压力 vt.强调 (初中英语单词)
- international [,intə´næʃənəl] a.国际的，世界的 (初中英语单词)
- rarely [´reəli] ad.难得；非凡地 (初中英语单词)
- paragraph [´pærəgrɑ:f] n.段；节 vt.将...分段 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- enthusiasm [in´θju:ziæzəm] n.热心；狂热；爱好 (初中英语单词)
- previous [´pri:viəs] a.先，前，以前的 (初中英语单词)
- luncheon [´lʌntʃ(ə)n] n.午餐，午宴 (初中英语单词)
- inspire [in´spaiə] v.鼓舞；使感悟；吸入 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- realization [,riəlai´zeiʃən] n.实现；认识 (初中英语单词)
- purely [´pjuəli] ad.仅仅；简单地 (初中英语单词)
- snatch [snætʃ] v.&n.抢，夺取，抓住 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- amusement [ə´mju:zmənt] n.娱乐；文娱设施 (初中英语单词)
- impress [im´pres, ´impres] v.铭刻 n.印记；特征 (初中英语单词)
- introduction [,intrə´dʌkʃən] n.介绍；引言；引导 (初中英语单词)
- minister [´ministə] n.部长；大臣 v.伺候 (初中英语单词)
- audience [´ɔ:diəns] n.听众；观众；接见 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- evident [´evidənt] a.明显的，明白的 (初中英语单词)
- amount [ə´maunt] n.总数；数量 v.合计 (初中英语单词)
- utmost [´ʌtməust] a.最大的 n.极端 (初中英语单词)
- economy [i´kɔnəmi] n.经济；机制；组织 (初中英语单词)
- exquisite [ik´skwizit] a.精巧的；敏锐的 (高中英语单词)
- destination [,desti´neiʃən] n.目标地 (高中英语单词)
- tragic [´trædʒik] a.悲剧的；悲惨的 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- allegiance [ə´li:dʒəns] n.忠诚，效忠 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- suffrage [´sʌfridʒ] n.投票(权)，选举权 (高中英语单词)
- compensation [,kɔmpen´seiʃən] n.补偿，赔偿 (高中英语单词)
- tangle [´tæŋgəl] n.&vt.(使)缠结；纠纷 (高中英语单词)
- countless [´kauntlis] a.无数的 (高中英语单词)
- significant [sig´nifikənt] a.重要的；意义重大的 (高中英语单词)
- invariably [in´veəriəbli] ad.不变地；永恒地 (高中英语单词)
- recreation [,rekri´eiʃən] n.消遣；休养 (高中英语单词)
- gentleness [´dʒentlnis] n.温和，温柔 (英语四级单词)
- warning [´wɔ:niŋ] n.警告；前兆 a.预告的 (英语四级单词)
- chicago [ʃi´kɑ:gəu] n.芝加哥 (英语四级单词)
- experienced [ik´spiəriənst] a.有经验的；熟练的 (英语四级单词)
- briskly [´briskli] ad.轻快地；活泼地 (英语四级单词)
- mouthful [´mauθful] n.一口；少量 (英语四级单词)
- pedestal [´pedistl] n.垫座 vt.给...装上座 (英语四级单词)
- right-hand [´rait´hænd] a.右手的，右边的 (英语四级单词)
- vice-president [vais´prezid(ə)nt] n.副总统；副会长 (英语四级单词)
- eventually [i´ventʃuəli] ad.最后，终于 (英语四级单词)
- reminder [ri´maində] n.提醒物；纪念品；暗示 (英语六级单词)
- forthcoming [,fɔ:θ´kʌmiŋ] a.即将到来的 (英语六级单词)
- orthodox [´ɔ:θədɔks] a.正统的；正统的；习惯的 (英语六级单词)
- independently [,indi´pendəntli] ad.独立地；自由地 (英语六级单词)
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