d yet man's admiration for woman never flags. He will give her half
his fortune; he will give her his whole heart; he seems always willing
to give her everything that he possesses, except his seat in a
horse-car. [Laughter.]

Every nation has had its heroines as well as its heroes. England, in her
wars, had a Florence Nightingale; and the soldiers in the expression of
their adoration, used to stoop and kiss the hem of her garment as she
passed. America, in her war, had a Dr. Mary Walker. Nobody ever stooped
to kiss the hem of her garment--because that was not exactly the kind of
garment she wore. [Laughter.] But why should man stand here and attempt
to speak for woman, when she is so abundantly equipped to speak for
herself. I know that is the case in New England; and I am reminded, by
seeing General Grant here to-night, of an incident in proof of it which
occurred when he was making that marvellous tour through New England,
just after the war. The train stopped at a station in the State of
Maine. The General was standing on the rear platform of the last car. At
that time, as you know, he had a great reputation for silence--for it
was before he had made his series of brilliant speeches before the New
England Society. They spoke of his reticence--a quality which New
Englanders admire so much--in others. [Laughter.] Suddenly there was a
commotion in the crowd, and as it opened a large, tall, gaunt-looking
woman came rushing toward the car, out of breath. Taking her spectacles
off from the top of her head and putting them on her nose, she put her
arms akimbo, and looking up, said: "Well, I've just come down here a
runnin' nigh onto two mile, right on the clean jump, just to get a look
at the man that lets the women do all the talkin'." [Laughter.]

The first regular speaker of the evening [William M. Evarts] touched
upon woman, but only incidentally, only in reference to Mormonism and
that sad land of Utah, where a single death may make a dozen widows.
[Laughter.]

A speaker at the New England dinner in Brooklyn last night [Henry Ward
Beecher] tried to prove that the Mormons came originally from New
Hampshire and Vermont. I know that a New Englander sometimes in the
course of his life marries several times; but he takes the precaution to
take his wives in their proper order of legal succession. The difference
is that he drives his team of wives tandem, while the Mormon insists
upon driving his abreast. [Laughter.]

But