f her wraps and stands before her husband, with blondined
hair, painted cheeks, and eyes red with wine. He stares, then starts
toward her, when she brings him to a halt by her strange manner. He
asks, "Is not this my wife?" she answers, "No, I am the New Woman."
She refuses to let him see their child, drives him out into the storm,
then goes to her room, disrobes and lies down to dream of great
audiences and applause.

It is an insult to any intelligent reader. Where is the woman, who was
a sweet, modest young mother, and who today is a public speaker, who
has neglected her child, driven her husband without cause into the
street, blondines her hair, paints her cheeks, drinks wine and smokes
cigarettes? She would be hissed from the platform. The author simply
shows his extreme prejudice in an abstract attempt to prove that to be
a new woman means the surrender of all womanly graces.

Let me give you, not fiction but real history, that I may present to
you the kind of new woman I indorse. She was born in the State of New
York, was well educated, and at proper age married a young physician.
They moved to a western city, where for a while the young physician
did well; but in an evil hour he commenced to drink. Like many a noble
young man, he was too weak to resist the power of appetite, and soon
his practice left him. His wife, the mother of two boys, secured a
position in the public schools and by her ability, won her way to a
principalship. The husband wandered away, while the brave wife and
mother remained with her children, but followed her husband with
letters of loving appeal. After long separation he was taken seriously
ill in the far Southwest. She left children, home and school work to
go to his bedside. Her watchful care brought him back from the very
door of death, and her prayers were answered in seeing him forsake the
cup and hide for safety in the cleft of the Rock of Ages. He returned
with her to their home, but soon after passed away. She buried him
beneath the green Missouri sod, planted flowers about the grave, paid
him tribute of her tears, and returned to her work.

In the course of these years she had joined the Woman's Christian
Temperance Union and was recognized as one of its greatest leaders.

Several years ago I gave an address in Hot Springs, Ark. A card was
presented at my door, which bore the name of the heroine of my story.
Going to the parlor I said: "What are you doing here?"

"My boy ha