IN 1867 the proposition to extend the suffrage to women and to colored men was submitted to the people of the State of Kansas， and， among other Eastern speakers， I was invited to make a campaign through the State. As the fall elections were pending， there was great excitement everywhere.
Suffrage for colored men was a Republican measure， which the press and politicians of that party advocated with enthusiasm.
As woman suffrage was not a party question， we hoped that all parties would favor the measure； that we might， at last， have one green spot on earth where women could enjoy full liberty as citizens of the United States.
Accordingly， in July， Miss Anthony and I started， with high hopes of a most successful trip， and， after an uneventful journey of one thousand five hundred miles， we reached the sacred soil where John Brown and his sons had helped to fight the battles that made Kansas a free State.
Lucy Stone， Mr. Blackwell， and Olympia Brown had preceded us and opened the campaign with large meetings in all the chief cities. Miss Anthony and I did the same. Then it was decided that， as we were to go to the very borders of the State， where there were no railroads， we must take carriages， and economize our forces by taking different routes. I was escorted by ex-Governor Charles Robinson. We had a low， easy carriage， drawn by two mules， in which we stored about a bushel of tracts， two valises， a pail for watering the mules， a basket of apples， crackers， and other such refreshments as we could purchase on the way. Some things were suspended underneath the carriage， some packed on behind， and some under the seat and at our feet. It required great skill to compress the necessary baggage into the allotted space. As we went to the very verge of civilization， wherever two dozen voters could be assembled， we had a taste of pioneer life. We spoke in log cabins， in depots， unfinished schoolhouses， churches， hotels， barns， and in the open air.
I spoke in a large mill one night. A solitary tallow candle shone over my head like a halo of glory； a few lanterns around the outskirts of the audience made the darkness perceptible； but all I could see of my audience was the whites of their eyes in the dim distance. People came from twenty miles around to these meetings， held either in the morning， afternoon， or evening， as was most convenient.
As the regular State election was to take place in the coming November， the interest increased from week to week， until the excitement of the people knew no bounds. There were speakers for and against every proposition before the people. This involved frequent debates on all the general principles of government， and thus a great educational work was accomplished， which is one of the advantages of our frequent elections.
The friends of woman suffrage were doomed to disappointment. Those in the East， on whom they relied for influence through the liberal newspapers， were silent， and we learned， afterward， that they used what influence they had to keep the abolitionists and Republicans of the State silent， as they feared the discussion of the woman question would jeopardize the enfranchisement of the black man. However， we worked untiringly and hopefully， not seeing through the game of the politicians until nearly the end of the canvass， when we saw that our only chance was in getting the Democratic vote. Accordingly， George Francis Train， then a most effective and popular speaker， was invited into the State to see what could be done to win the Democracy. He soon turned the tide， strengthened the weak-kneed Republicans and abolitionists， and secured a large Democratic vote.
For three months we labored diligently， day after day， enduring all manner of discomforts in traveling， eating， and sleeping. As there were no roads or guideposts， we often lost our way. In going through cañ；ons and fording streams it was often so dark that the Governor was obliged to walk ahead to find the way， taking off his coat so that I could see his white shirt and slowly drive after him. Though seemingly calm and cool， I had a great dread of these night adventures， as I was in constant fear of being upset on some hill and rolled into the water. The Governor often complimented me on my courage， when I was fully aware of being tempest-tossed with anxiety. I am naturally very timid， but， being silent under strong emotions of either pleasure or pain， I am credited with being courageous in the hour of danger.
For days， sometimes， we could find nothing at a public table that we could eat. Then passing through a little settlement we could buy dried herring， crackers， gum arabic， and slippery elm； the latter， we were told， was very nutritious. We frequently sat down to a table with bacon floating in grease， coffee without milk， sweetened with sorghum， and bread or hot biscuit， green with soda， while vegetables and fruit were seldom seen.
Our nights were miserable， owing to the general opinion among pioneers that a certain species of insect must necessarily perambulate the beds in a young civilization. One night， after traveling over prairies all day， eating nothing but what our larder provided， we saw a light in a cottage in the distance which seemed to beckon to us. Arriving， we asked the usual question，杋f we could get a night's lodging，杢o which the response was inevitably a hearty， hospitable "Yes." One survey of the premises showed me what to look for in the way of midnight companionship， so I said to the Governor， "I will resign in your favor the comforts provided for me to-night， and sleep in the carriage， as you do so often." I persisted against all the earnest persuasions of our host， and in due time I was ensconced for the night， and all about the house was silent.
