It was daylight when we reached the little sta-
tion at Buffalo Gap where we were to take the
train. This was not due, however, for half an hour,
and even then it did not come. The station was
only large enough to hold the stove, the ticket-office,
and the inevitable cuspidor. There was barely
room in which to walk between these and the wall.
Miss Anthony sat down on the floor. I had a few
raisins in my bag, and we divided them for breakfast.
An hour passed, and another, and still the train did
not come. Miss Anthony, her back braced against
the wall, buried her face in her hands and dropped
into a peaceful abyss of slumber, while I walked
restlessly up and down the platform. The train
arrived four hours late, and when eventually we had
reached our destination we learned that the min-
isters of the town had persuaded the women to give
up the suffrage meeting scheduled for that night, as
it was Sunday.
This disappointment, following our all-day and
all-night drive to keep our appointment, aroused
Miss Anthony's fighting spirit. She sent me out to
rent the theater for the evening, and to have some
hand-bills printed and distributed, announcing that
we would speak. At three o'clock she made the
concession to her seventy years of lying down for
an hour's rest. I was young and vigorous, so I
trotted around town to get somebody to preside,
somebody to introduce us, somebody to take up
the collection, and somebody who would provide
music--in short, to make all our preparations for
the night meeting.
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