The Story of an African Farm
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第73章 XII(5)

That night I slept the sleep of the just and the well-meaning, and it was fortunate I did, for the morning newspapers had a surprise for me that called for steady nerves and a sense of humor. Across the front page of every one of them ran startling head-lines to this effect:

DR. SHAW HAS FOUND HER IDEAL MAN

The Prospects Are That She Will Remain in California Professor Griggs was young enough to be my son, and he was already married and the father of two beautiful children; but these facts were not per- m itted to interfere with the free play of fancy in journalistic minds. For a week the newspapers were filled with all sorts of articles, caricatures, and editorials on my ideal man, which caused me much annoyance and some amusement, while they plunged Professor Griggs into an abysmal gloom. In the end, however, the experience proved an excellent one for him, for the publicity attending his speech made him decide to take up lecturing as a profession, which he eventually did with great success. But neither of us has yet heard the last of the Ideal Man episode. Only a few years ago, on his return to California after a long absence, one of the leading Sunday newspapers of the state heralded Professor Griggs's arrival by publishing a full-page article bearing his photograph and mine and this flam- b oyant heading:

SHE MADE HIM

And Dr. Shaw's Ideal Man Became the Idol of American Women and Earns $30,000 a Year We had other unusual experiences in California, and the display of affluence on every side was not the least impressive of them. In one town, after a heavy rain, I remember seeing a number of little boys scraping the dirt from the gutters, washing it, and finding tiny nuggets of gold. We learned that these boys sometimes made two or three dollars a day in this way, and that the streets of the town--I think it was Marysville--contained so much gold that a syndicate offered to level the whole town and repave the streets in return for the right to wash out the gold. This sounds like the kind of thing Ameri- c ans tell to trustful visitors from foreign lands, but it is quite true.

Nuggets, indeed, were so numerous that at one of our meetings, when we were taking up a collec- t ion, I cheerfully suggested that our audience drop a few into the box, as we had not had a nugget since we reached the state. There were no nuggets in the subsequent collection, but there was a note which read: ``If Dr. Shaw will accept a gold nugget, I will see that she does not leave town without one.'' I r ead this aloud, and added, ``I have never refused a gold nugget in my life.''

The following day brought me a pin made of a very beautiful gold nugget, and a few days later another Californian produced a cluster of smaller nuggets which he had washed out of a panful of earth and insisted on my accepting half of them. I w as not accustomed to this sort of generosity, but it was characteristic of the spirit of the state. No- w here else, during our campaign experiences, were we so royally treated in every way. As a single example among many, I may mention that Mrs.

Leland Stanford once happened to be on a train with us and to meet Miss Anthony. As a result of this chance encounter she gave our whole party passes on all the lines of the Southern Pacific Rail- r oad, for use during the entire campaign. Similar generosity was shown us on every side, and the ques- t ion of finance did not burden us from the beginning to the end of the California work.

In our Utah and Idaho campaigns we had also our full share of new experiences, and of these perhaps the most memorable to me was the sermon I preached in the Mormon Tabernacle at Salt Lake City.

Before I left New York the Mormon women had sent me the invitation to preach this sermon, and when I r eached Salt Lake City and the so-called ``Gentile'' w omen heard of the plan, they at once invited me to preach to the ``Gentiles'' on the evening of the same Sunday, in the Salt Lake City Opera House.

On the morning of the sermon I approached the Mormon Tabernacle with much more trepidation than I usually experienced before entering a pulpit.

I was not sure what particular kind of trouble I w ould get into, but I had an abysmal suspicion that trouble of some sort lay in wait for me, and I s hivered in the anticipation of it. Fortunately, my anxiety was not long drawn out. I arrived only a few moments before the hour fixed for the sermon, and found the congregation already assembled and the Tabernacle filled with the beautiful music of the great organ. On the platform, to which I was escorted by several leading dignitaries of the church, was the characteristic Mormon arrangement of seats. The first row was occupied by the deacons, and in the center of these was the pulpit from which the deacons preach. Above these seats was a second row, oc- c upied by ordained elders, and there they too had their own pulpit. The third row was occupied by, the bishops and the highest dignitaries of the church, with the pulpit from which the bishops preach; and behind them all, an effective human frieze, was the really wonderful Mormon choir.

As I am an ordained elder in my church, I oc- c upied the pulpit in the middle row of seats, with the deacons below me and the bishops just behind.