Trip to Canada, Cordial reception—­return to Chicago to fill engagement—­
second visit to Canada—­trip to maritime Provinces—­visit
club in Charlotte town—­prejudice against me owing to malicious
reports—­spoke in Parliament in Fredericton—­visit to Sidney—­
Scott act—­my arrest and release—­episode in jail.

Having a spare month in May of 1904 I made a trip to Canada, and never was so cordially received in my life, selling all the hatchets I had in three meetings.

I returned to fill a Chicago engagement of six weeks, which was made by my manager, with Mr. Houseman, one of the Editors of the Chicago Inter-Ocean, who owned a theatre with which a museum was connected.  Realizing that this would provide an excuse for the papers to lie about me, I wrote my manager if possible, to cancel the engagement.  I was, however, persuaded to stay one week, with the result, that it was published all over the country that Carry A. Nation was in a Museum getting $300 a week just to be looked at, when in fact, I spoke in the theatre, not in the museum.  I would not object to going into a museum or any place to bring my cause before the people, but resented the idea of being placed on exhibition.

As I had promised to return to Canada, I did so in the month of June, visiting the Maritime Provinces, where I was very much delighted with the people, finding in Prince Edward’s Island the most intelligent and moral people, as a body, that I have ever met.

That Island has a Prohibition Law similar to Kansas, but the primier, Peters, told the former premier, Mr. Farguason, that the Club in Charlotte Town, the Capitol, had to be an exception to the prohibitive amendment or he would vote against and ruin it.  This condition is similar in our own government-conspiracy and treason.  I visited this club, strange that I should get in, God opened the way.  It was fitted up like other drinking clubs, where men congregate together to act in a manner and talk of subjects they would be ashamed for their wives to see and hear.  The back room was stacked with empties and imported liquors of different brands.  I went up into the parlor about nine o’clock in the morning, where I met one of these beer-swelled outlaws, I asked him, “Will you object to answering some questions about this place.”  His pompous and indignant reply was, “No, I will do nothing of the kind.”  I said, “I will tell you some things about it.  You are a set of traitors, you pose as being the elite, but you are criminals, shame on such villainy.”  He held his paper up before his face.  I had the satisfaction of telling him the truth in plain language, such men are well dressed, gold fobbed, diamond studded rummies that are more hateful than those behind the prison bars, their bodies a reeking mass of corruption.