e and woman's sphere." This was good copy for Republican newspapers
and they made the most of it, as women throughout the country added
their protests to Susan's. A popular jingle of the day ran, "Susan B.
Anthony, she took quite a fall out of Grover C."[455]

Susan, however, had something far more important on her mind than
fencing with Grover Cleveland--an interview with President Theodore
Roosevelt. Here was a man eager to right wrongs, to break monopolies,
to see justice done to the Negro, a man who talked of a "square deal"
for all, and yet woman suffrage aroused no response in him.

In November 1905, she undertook a trip to Washington for the express
purpose of talking with him. The year before, at a White House
reception, he had singled her out to stand at his side in the
receiving line. She looked for the same friendliness now. Memorandum
in hand, she plied him with questions which he carefully evaded, but
she would not give up.

"Mr. Roosevelt," she earnestly pleaded, "this is my principle request.
It is almost the last request I shall ever make of anybody. Before you
leave the Presidential chair recommend to Congress to submit to the
Legislatures a Constitutional Amendment which will enfranchise women,
and thus take your place in history with Lincoln, the great
emancipator. I beg of you not to close your term of office without
doing this."[456]

To this he made no response, and trying once more to wring from him
some slight indication of sympathy for her cause, she added, "Mr.
President, your influence is so great that just one word from you in
favor of woman suffrage would give our cause a tremendous impetus."

"The public knows my attitude," he tersely replied. "I recommended it
when Governor of New York."

"True," she acknowledged, "but that was a long time ago. Our enemies
say that was the opinion of your younger years and that since you have
been President you have never uttered one word that could be construed
as an endorsement."

"They have no cause to think I have changed my mind," he suavely
replied as he bade her good-bye. In the months that followed he gave
her no sign that her interview had made the slightest impression.

One of the most satisfying honors bestowed on Susan during these last
years was the invitation to be present at Bryn Mawr College in 1902
for the unveiling of a bronze portrait medallion of herself. Bryn
Mawr, under its brilliant young president, M. Carey Thomas, herself