I agreed and kept my mouth shut without a muzzle.  That “memory” is as clear today as if it had happened yesterday.

One day while reading in my fine stateroom, a lady came to the open door and asked me if I would go out with her on the deck that pleasant afternoon and meet some friends of hers.  I thanked her, but refused as I was reading one of Hon. Justin McCarthy’s books, and as I had the honour of meeting him and his most interesting wife in New York City at the home of Mrs. Henry M. Field, I was much engrossed in what he wrote.  Again, another person came and entreated me to go to the deck; not suspecting any plot to test me, I went with her, and found a crowd gathered there, and a good-looking young man seemed to be haranguing them.  He stopped as we came along and after being introduced went on with:  “As I was saying, Miss Sanborn, I regard women as greatly our inferiors; in fact, essentially unemotional,—­really bovine.  Do you really not agree to that?” I almost choked with surprise and wrath, but managed to retort:  “I am sorry to suppose your mother was a cow, but she must have been to raise a calf like you.”  And I walked away to the tune of great applause.  It seems someone had said that I was never at a loss when a repartee was needed, and it was proposed to give me an opportunity.  Next surprise:  a call as we were nearing Seattle from a large and noticeable lady who introduced herself saying: 

“I am the president of a club which I started myself, and feel bound to help on.  I have followed you about a good deal, and shall be much obliged if you will jot down for me to read to this club everything you have said since you came on board.  I know they will enjoy it.”  I was sorry my memory failed me entirely on that occasion.  Still it was a great compliment!

But the Muir Glacier!  We had to keep three and a half miles away, lest the steamer be injured by the small icebergs which broke off the immense mass into the water with a thunderous roar.  A live glacier advances a certain distance each day and retreats a little.  Those who visited the glacier brought back delicate little blue harebells they found growing in the clefts of ice.  No description of my impressions?  Certainly not!  Too much of that has been done already.

We saw curious sights along the way, such as the salmon leaping into a fenced-in pool to deposit their spawn; there they could be easily speared, dried, and pitched into wagons as we pitch hay in New England.  I saw the Indians stretching the salmon on boards put up in the sun, their color in the sun a brilliant pinkish red.

I saw bears fishing at the edge of water, really catching fish in their clumsy paws.  Other bears were picking strawberries for their cubs.  As I watched them strolling away, I thought they might be looking for a stray cow to milk to add flavour to the berries.