oubled.

Through the remainder of the winter she continued to speak in various
suburbs of the city, not always to sympathetic audiences, for so
radical were some of her assertions, especially coming from the lips
of a mere girl, that she was hissed time and again for her assertions.
Despite this, she was becoming well known as a speaker of great
ability, and as the war went on, with its varying successes for the
North and South, she thought with less intensity on the subjects of
the future of the negro and the wrongs of women, and became more
deeply absorbed in questions of national importance, which was a
fortunate thing for her. She was enthusiastic, eloquent, young and
pretty, all of which characteristics made her a valuable ally for any
cause. Mr. Garrison, the noted Abolitionist, heard her speak twice,
and was so delighted with her manner and ability that he asked for an
introduction to her, and invited her to visit Boston and make his
house her home while there. She thanked him with pretty enthusiasm and
accepted, but before going to Boston was persuaded to give the lecture
in Philadelphia, for which she had been dismissed from the Mint. A
ten-cent admission was charged, and Judge Pierce, one of the early
advocates of Woman's Rights, presided and introduced the young
speaker. The house was crowded, and this time she was satisfied with
her lecture, while the eager Longshores and her mother were filled
with a just pride. After all expenses were paid she was handed a check
for a bigger sum of money than she had ever owned before. The largest
share of it was given at once to her mother, then, after a serious
discussion with Doctor Longshore, Anna decided to spend the remainder
on her first silk dress. Despite oratory and advanced views, the girl
of eighteen was still human and feminine, and it is to be doubted
whether any results of her labors ever gave her more satisfaction than
that bit of finery for her public appearances.

And now the young orator went to Boston, where through Mr. Garrison's
influence she was invited to speak in Theodore Parker's pulpit, as
leading reformers were then doing. She also spoke in the Music Hall on
"The National Crisis," and that lecture was the hardest trial she ever
experienced. For two days before it she could not sleep or eat, and
answered questions like one in a dream, and Mr. Garrison and those
friends who had been confident of her ability to hold any audience
began to feel ext