r assured me, however, that a speech of thirty-three
seconds made twenty-seven feet of film--enough, he thought, to convert
even a lieutenant-governor!

The Dakota campaigns, as usual, resolved themselves largely into feats
of physical endurance, in which I was inspired by the fine example of
the state presidents--Mrs. John Pyle of South Dakota and Mrs. Clara
V. Darrow of North Dakota. Every day we made speeches from the rear
platform of the trains on which we were traveling--sometimes only two
or three, sometimes half a dozen. One day I rode one hundred miles in an
automobile and spoke in five different towns. Another day I had to make
a journey in a freight-car. It was, with a few exceptions, the roughest
traveling I had yet known, and it took me six hours to reach my
destination. While I was gathering up hair-pins and pulling myself
together to leave the car at the end of the ride I asked the conductor
how far we had traveled.

"Forty miles," said he, tersely.

"That means forty miles AHEAD," I murmured. "How far up and down?"

"Oh, a hundred miles up and down," grinned the conductor, and the
exchange of persiflage cheered us both.

Though we did not win, I have very pleasant memories of North Dakota,
for Mrs. Darrow accompanied me during the entire campaign, and took
every burden from my shoulders so efficiently that I had nothing to do
but make speeches.

In Montana our most interesting day was that of the State Fair, which
ended with a suffrage parade that I was invited to lead. On this
occasion the suffragists wished me to wear my cap and gown and my
doctor's hood, but as I had not brought those garments with me, we
borrowed and I proudly wore the cap and gown of the Unitarian minister.
It was a small but really beautiful parade, and all the costumes for it
were designed by the state president, Miss Jeannette Rankin, to whose
fine work, by the way, combined with the work of her friends, the
winning of Montana was largely due.

In Butte the big strike was on, and the town was under martial law. A
large banquet was given us there, and when we drove up to the club-house
where this festivity was to be held we were stopped by two armed guards
who confronted us with stern faces and fixed bayonets. The situation
seemed so absurd that I burst into happy laughter, and thus deeply
offended the earnest young guards who were grasping the fixed bayonets.
This sad memory was wiped out, however, by the interest of the