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"The Story of a Pioneer"

I had gone to bed--indeed, I was
almost asleep when she came, for the day had been
as exhausting as it was interesting. But notwith-
standing the lateness of the hour, ``Aunt Susan,''
then nearing seventy, was still as fresh and as full
of enthusiasm as a young girl. She had a great deal
to say, she declared, and she proceeded to say it--
sitting in a big easy-chair near the bed, with a rug
around her knees, while I propped myself up with
pillows and listened.
Hours passed and the dawn peered wanly through
the windows, but still Miss Anthony talked of the
Cause always of the Cause--and of what we two
must do for it. The previous evening she had been
too busy to eat any dinner, and I greatly doubt
whether she had eaten any luncheon at noon. She
had been on her feet for hours at a time, and she
had held numerous discussions with other women
she wished to inspire to special effort. Yet, after
it all, here she was laying out our campaigns for years
ahead, foreseeing everything, forgetting nothing, and
sweeping me with her in her flight toward our com-
mon goal, until I, who am not easily carried off my
feet, experienced an almost dizzy sense of exhilara-
tion.
Suddenly she stopped, looked at the gas-jets paling
in the morning light that filled the room, and for a
fleeting instant seemed surprised. In the next she
had dismissed from her mind the realization that we
had talked all night.


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