ecause he is first-rate as an author, an editor, and a man. I
admire Grant as a brave soldier and as a man too, but then, the old
State! I don't care who knows it--from this day out, white is my color.

But, feeling this in my very bones, how could I accept the great
national compliment of a special train filled with admiring friends from
the Government, which is General Grant?

I spoke of this to Cousin Dempster, and, says he:

"This makes no difference in the world. Take all you can from the
Government. That is high patriotism."

I shook my head.

"Cousin," says I, "it kind of seems to me that this special train is a
sort of a trap. How can I, a free-born Vermonter--national in some
respects, and brimming over with first-class patriotism, but Vermont to
the back-bone--first and foremost, lead off a party like this, one car
choke full of Mr. Grant's cabinet people. Now, if Mr. Greeley and Mr.
Grant should rile up against each other--which I hope they won't--don't
you see that I am in an awful mixed position?--the National Government
on one side with that stupendous soldier at the head, and that great
white-hatted Vermonter on the other?"

"That is, you want to be neutral," says Dempster.

"Well, yes--kind of neutral," says I, "and a little for both."

"Not exactly on the fence, but cautious," says he; "keep your boat in
harbor till the tide rises and the wind blows, then hoist sail and catch
up with the old craft that has been tugging on in shallow water?"

"No," says I, feeling the old Puritan blood beginning to boil up. "That
may answer for some people, but not for me. An idea has just struck me;
a woman's political ideas should be suggested, not proclaimed."

Without speaking another word, I put on my things, went right down to
Pennsylvania Avenue, and bought a soft white hat, a little broad in the
brim, which I turned up on one side. Then I went into a milliner's
store, carrying it in my hand, and made a woman curl a long white
feather over the crown, which gave the whole affair a touch of the
beehive, stamping it with beautiful femininity.

With this hat on my head, and a double-breasted white jacket over my
black alpaca, I took my honored place in the cars that day.

Of course I sat in the cabinet car, feeling myself the sole
representative of Vermont in that august company. The ladies looked at
me sidewise when I came in; some of the cabinet men half winked at each
other and tried to smile. But that