the seemingly insignificant pivot upon
which we whirled into triumph--that he, Mr. Wrangle, and the opposing
candidate, Mr. Tumbrill, had arranged to hold a joint meeting at
Burroak. This meeting took place on a magnificent day, just after the
oats-harvest; and everybody, for twenty miles around, was there. Mrs.
Whiston, together with Sarah Pincher, Olympia Knapp, and several other
prominent advocates of our cause, met at my house in the morning; and
we all agreed that it was time to strike a blow. The rest of us
magnanimously decided to take no part in the concerted plan, though very
eager to do so. Selina Whiston declared that she must have the field to
herself; and when she said that, we knew she meant it.

It was generally known that she was on the ground. In fact, she spent
most of the time while Messrs. Wrangle and Tumbrill were speaking,
in walking about through the crowds--so after an hour apiece for the
gentlemen, and then fifteen minutes apiece for a rejoinder, and the
Star Spangled Banner from the band, for both sides, we were not a
bit surprised to hear a few cries of "Whiston!" from the audience.
Immediately we saw the compact gray bonnet and brown serge dress (she
knew what would go through a crowd without tearing!) splitting the wedge
of people on the steps leading to the platform. I noticed that the two
Congressional candidates looked at each other and smiled, in spite of
the venomous charges they had just been making.

Well--I won't attempt to report her speech, though it was her most
splendid effort (as people WILL say, when it was no effort to her at
all). But the substance of it was this: after setting forth woman's
wrongs and man's tyranny, and taxation without representation, and an
equal chance, and fair-play, and a struggle for life (which you know all
about from the other conventions), she turned squarely around to the two
candidates and said:

"Now to the practical application. You, Mr. Wrangle, and you, Mr.
Tumbrill, want to be elected to Congress. The district is a close one:
you have both counted the votes in advance (oh, I know your secrets!)
and there isn't a difference of a hundred in your estimates. A
very little will turn the scale either way. Perhaps a woman's
influence--perhaps my voice--might do it. But I will give you an equal
chance. So much power is left to woman, despite what you withhold, that
we, the women of Putnam, Shinnebaug, and Rancocus counties, are able to
decide whic