I was sorry to find that Mrs. Beach, though a native of New York, and born on the very spot where the first woman’s rights convention was held in this country, was not sound on the question of woman suffrage.  She seemed to have an idea that voting and housekeeping could not be compounded; but I suggested that, if the nation could only enjoy a little of the admirable system with which she and other women administered their domestic affairs, Uncle Sam’s interests would be better secured.  This is just what the nation needs to-day, and women must wake up to the consideration that they, too, have duties as well as rights in the State.  A splendid audience greeted me in the Opera House, and I gave “Our Girls,” bringing many male sinners to repentance, and stirring up some lethargic femmes coverts to a state of rebellion against the existing order of things.

From Dubuque I went to Dixon, a large town, where I met a number of pleasant people, but I have one cause of complaint against the telegraph operator, whose negligence to send a dispatch to Mt.  Vernon, written and paid for, came near causing me a solitary night on the prairie, unsheltered and unknown.  Hearing that the express train went out Sunday afternoon, I decided to go, so as to have all day at Mt.  Vernon before speaking; but on getting my trunk checked, the baggageman said the train did not stop there.  “Well,” said I, “check the trunk to the nearest point at which it does stop,” resolving that I would persuade the conductor to stop one minute, anyway.  Accordingly, when the conductor came round, I presented my case as persuasively and eloquently as possible, telling him that I had telegraphed friends to meet me, etc., etc.  He kindly consented to do so and had my trunk re-checked.  On arriving, as there was no light, no sound, and the depot was half a mile from the town, the conductor urged me to go to Cedar Rapids and come back the next morning, as it was Sunday night and the depot might not be opened, and I might be compelled to stay there on the platform all night in the cold.

But, as I had telegraphed, I told him I thought someone would be there, and I would take the risk.  So off went the train, leaving me solitary and alone.  I could see the lights in the distant town and the dark outlines of two great mills near by, which suggested dams and races.  I heard, too, the distant barking of dogs, and I thought there might be wolves, too; but no human sound.  The platform was high and I could see no way down, and I should not have dared to go down if I had.  So I walked all round the house, knocked at every door and window, called “John!” “James!” “Patrick!” but no response.  Dressed in all their best, they had, no doubt, gone to visit Sally, and I knew they would stay late.  The night wind was cold.  What could I do?  The prospect of spending the night there filled me with dismay.  At last I thought I would try my vocal powers; so I hallooed as loud