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I recall with pleasure two campaigns which we made in Vermont, where the theme of woman suffrage was quite new to the public mind.
I started on one of these journeys with Mr. Garrison, and enjoyed with him the great beauty of the winter landscape in that most lovely State.
The evergreen forests through which we passed were hung with icicles, which glittered like diamonds in the bright winter sun. Lucy Stone, Mr. Blackwell, and Mrs. Livermore had preceded us, and when we reached the place of destination we found everything in readiness for our meeting.
At one town in Vermont some opposition to our coming had been manifested beforehand.
We found, on arriving, that the chairman of our committee of arrangements had left town suddenly as if unwilling to befriend us. A vulgar and silly ballad had been printed and circulated, in which we three ladies were spoken of as three old crows.
The prospect for the evening was not encouraging.
We deliberated for a moment in the anteroom of our hall.
I said, ‘Let me come first in the order of exercises, as I read from a manuscript, and shall not be disconcerted even if they throw chairs at us.’
As we entered some noise was heard from the gallery.
Mr. Garrison came forward and asked whether we were to be given a hearing or not. Instantly a group of small boys were ejected from their seats by some one
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