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incomplete reminiscences will permit, other inci-

dents that occurred on its banks.



Of these the most important was the union in

1889 of the two great suffrage societies--the Ameri-



can Association, of which Lucy Stone was the presi-

dent, and the National Association, headed by Susan



B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. At a

convention held in Washington these societies were



merged as The National American Woman Suffrage

Association--the name our association still bears--



and Mrs. Stanton was elected president. She was

then nearly eighty and past active work, but she



made a wonderful presiding officer at our subsequent

meetings, and she was as picturesque as she was



efficient.

Miss Anthony, who had an immense admiration



for her and a great personal pride in her, always

escorted her to the capital, and, having worked her



utmost to make the meeting a success, invariably

gave Mrs. Stanton credit for all that was accom-



plished. She often said that Mrs. Stanton was the

brains of the new association, while she herself was



merely its hands and feet; but in truth the two

women worked marvelously together, for Mrs.



Stanton was a master of words and could write and

speak to perfection of the things Susan B. Anthony



saw and felt but could not herself express. Usually

Miss Anthony went to Mrs. Stanton's house and



took charge of it while she stimulated the venerable

president to the writing of her annual address.



Then, at the subsequent convention, she would listen

to the report with as much delight and pleasure as



if each word of it had been new to her. Even after

Mrs. Stanton's resignation from the presidency--



at the end, I think, of three years--and Miss An-

thony's election as her successor, ``Aunt Susan'' still



went to her old friend whenever an important reso-

lution was to be written, and Mrs. Stanton loyally



drafted it for her.

Mrs. Stanton was the most brilliant conversa-



tionalist I have ever known; and the best talk I

have heard anywhere was that to which I used to



listen in the home of Mrs. Eliza Wright Osborne,

in Auburn, New York, when Mrs. Stanton, Susan



B. Anthony, Emily Howland, Elizabeth Smith

Miller, Ida Husted Harper, Miss Mills, and I were



gathered there for our occasional week-end visits.

Mrs. Osborne inherited her suffrage sympathies, for



she was the daughter of Martha Wright, who, with

Mrs. Stanton and Lucretia Mott, called the first



suffrage convention in Seneca Falls, New York. I

must add in passing that her son, Thomas Mott



Osborne, who is doing such admirable work in

prison reform at Sing Sing, has shown himself worthy



of the gifted and high-minded mother who gave him

to the world.



Most of the conversation in Mrs. Osborne's home

was contributed by Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony,



while the rest of us sat, as it were, at their feet.

Many human and feminine touches brightened the



lofty discussions that were constantly going on, and

the varied characteristics of our leaders cropped up



in amusing fashion. Mrs. Stanton, for example, was

rarely accurate in giving figures or dates, while Miss



Anthony was always very exact in such matters.

She frequently corrected Mrs. Stanton's statements,



and Mrs. Stanton usually took the interruption in

the best possible spirit, promptly admitting that



``Aunt Susan'' knew best. On one occasion I re-

call, however, she held fast to her opinion that she



was right as to the month in which a certain inci-

dent had occurred.



``No, Susan,'' she insisted, ``you're wrong for

once. I remember perfectly when that happened,



for it was at the time I was beginning to wean




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