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- f ully, ``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 h ave 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- c luded, ``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- t ion.''
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- c use 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- r espectful youth once remarked that on these oc- c asions 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 l iterally 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- c ame vice-president and eventually, in 1904, presi- d ent of the association, I continued to work gratui- t ously 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 utmost economy. I decided that I could earn my bare expenses by making one brief lecture tour each year, and I made an arrange- m ent with the Redpath Bureau which left me fully two-thirds of my time for the suffrage work I loved.
This was one result of my all-night talk with Miss Anthony in Chicago, and it enabled me to carry out her plan that I should accompany her in most of the campaigns in which she sought to arouse the West to the need of suffrage for women. From that time on we traveled and lectured together so con- s tantly that each of us developed an almost uncanny knowledge of the other's mental processes. At any point of either's lecture the other could pick it up and carry it on--a fortunate condition, as it some- t imes became necessary to do this. Miss Anthony was subject to contractions of the throat, which for the moment caused a slight strangulation. On such occasions--of which there were several--she would turn to me and indicate her helplessness. Then I w ould repeat her last sentence, complete her speech, and afterward make my own.
The first time this happened we were in Washing- t on, and ``Aunt Susan'' stopped in the middle of a word. She could not speak; she merely motioned to me to continue for her, and left the stage. At the end of the evening a prominent Washington man who had been in our audience remarked to me, con- f identially:
``That was a nice little play you and Miss An- t hony made to-night--very effective indeed.''
For an instant I did not catch his meaning, nor the implication in his knowing smile.
``Very clever, that strangling bit, and your going on with the speech,'' he repeated. ``It hit the au- d ience hard.''
``Surely,'' I protested, ``you don't think it was a deliberate thing--that we planned or rehearsed it.''
He stared at me incredulously. ``Are you going to pretend,'' he demanded, ``that it wasn't a put-up job?''
I told him he had paid us a high compliment, and that we must really have done very well if we had conveyed that impression; and I finally convinced him that we not only had not rehearsed the episode, but that neither of us had known what the other meant to say. We never wrote out our speeches, but our subject was always suffrage or some ramifica- t ion of suffrage, and, naturally, we had thoroughly digested each other's views.
It is said by my friends that I write my speeches on the tips of my fingers--for I always make my points on my fingers and have my fingers named for points. When I plan a speech I decide how many points I wish to make and what those points shall be. My mental preparation follows. Miss An- t hony's method was much the same; but very fre- q uently both of us threw over all our plans at the last moment and spoke extemporaneously on some theme suggested by the atmosphere of the gathering or by the words of another speaker.
From Miss Anthony, more than from any one else, I learned to keep cool in the face of interruptions and of the small annoyances and disasters inevitable in campaigning. Often we were able to help each other out of embarrassing situations, and one incident of this kind occurred during our campaign in South Dakota. We were holding a meeting on the hottest Sunday of the hottest month in the year--August-- a nd hundreds of the natives had driven twenty, thirty, and even forty miles across the country to hear us. We were to speak in a sod church, but it was discovered that the structure would not hold half the people who were trying to enter it, so we decided that Miss Anthony should speak from the door, in order that those both inside and outside might hear her. To elevate her above her audience, she was given an empty dry-goods box to stand on.
