the marriage tie and leave the poor husband to the charity of the cold world, with their helpless children about him.  I heard of a rich lady, there, who made a will, giving her husband a handsome annuity as long as he remained her widower.  It was evident that the poor “white male,” sooner or later, was doomed to try for himself the virtue of the laws he had made for women.  I hope, for the sake of the race, he will not bear oppression with the stupid fortitude we have for six thousand years.

At Flint I was entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Jenny.  Mr. Jenny was a Democratic editor who believed in progress, and in making smooth paths for women in this great wilderness of life.  His wife was a remarkable woman.  She inaugurated the Ladies’ Libraries in Michigan.  In Flint they had a fine brick building and nearly two thousand volumes of choice books, owned by the association, and money always in the treasury.  Here, too, I had a fine audience and gave my lecture entitled “Open the Door.”

At Coldwater, in spite of its name, I found a warm, appreciative audience.  The president of the lyceum was a sensible young man who, after graduating at Ann Arbor, decided, instead of starving at the law, to work with his hands and brains at the same time.  When all men go to their legitimate business of creating wealth, developing the resources of the country, and leave its mere exchange to the weaker sex, we shall not have so many superfluous women in the world with nothing to do.  It is evident the time has come to hunt man into his appropriate sphere.  Coming from Chicago, I met Governor Fairchild and Senator Williams of Wisconsin.  It was delightful to find them thoroughly grounded in the faith of woman suffrage.  They had been devout readers of the Revolution ever since Miss Anthony induced them to subscribe, the winter before, at Madison.  Of course a new glow of intelligence irradiated their fine faces (for they were remarkably handsome men) and there was a new point to all their words.  Senator Williams, like myself, was on a lecturing tour.  “Man” was his theme, for which I was devoutly thankful; for, if there are any of God’s creatures that need lecturing, it is this one that is forever advising us.  I thought of all men, from Father Gregory down to Horace Bushnell, who had wearied their brains to describe woman’s sphere, and how signally they had failed.

Throughout my lyceum journeys I was of great use to the traveling public, in keeping the ventilators in the cars open, and the dampers in fiery stoves shut up, especially in sleeping cars at night.  How many times a day I thought what the sainted Horace Mann tried to impress on his stupid countrymen, that, inasmuch as the air is forty miles deep around the globe, it is a useless piece of economy to breathe any number of cubic feet over more than seven times!  The babies, too, need to be thankful that I was in a position to witness their wrongs.  Many, through my intercessions, received their first drink of water, and were emancipated from woolen hoods, veils, tight strings under their chins, and endless swaddling bands.  It is a startling assertion, but true, that I have met few women who know how to take care of a baby.  And this fact led me, on one trip, to lecture to my fair countrywomen on “Marriage and Maternity,” hoping to aid in the inauguration of a new era of happy, healthy babies.