d "heaven's first law." The house was exquisitely
clean and orderly, the food appetizing, the conversation pleasant and
profitable, and the atmosphere genial.

A room in an adjoining house was assigned to Miss Johnson and myself,
where a strong pedestal and huge mass of clay greeted us. And there, for
nearly a month, I watched the transformation of that clay into human
proportions and expressions, until it gradually emerged with the
familiar facial outlines ever so dear to one's self. Sitting there four
or five hours every day I used to get very sleepy, so my artist
arranged for a series of little naps. When she saw the crisis coming she
would say: "I will work now for a time on the ear, the nose, or the
hair, as you must be wide awake when I am trying to catch the
expression." I rewarded her for her patience and indulgence by summoning
up, when awake, the most intelligent and radiant expression that I could
command. As Miss Johnson is a charming, cultured woman, with liberal
ideas and brilliant in conversation, she readily drew out all that was
best in me.

Before I left Rochester, Miss Anthony and her sister Mary gave a
reception to me at their house. As some of the professors and trustees
of the Rochester University were there, the question of co-education was
freely discussed, and the authorities urged to open the doors of the
University to the daughters of the people. It was rather aggravating to
contemplate those fine buildings and grounds, while every girl in that
city must go abroad for higher education. The wife of President Hill of
the University had just presented him with twins, a girl and a boy, and
he facetiously remarked, "that if the Creator could risk placing sexes
in such near relations, he thought they might with safety walk on the
same campus and pursue the same curriculum together."

Miss Anthony and I went to Geneva the next day to visit Mrs. Miller and
to meet, by appointment, Mrs. Eliza Osborne, the niece of Lucretia Mott,
and eldest daughter of Martha C. Wright. We anticipated a merry meeting,
but Miss Anthony and I were so tired that we no doubt appeared stupid.
In a letter to Mrs. Miller afterward, Mrs. Osborne inquired why I was
"so solemn." As I pride myself on being impervious to fatigue or
disease, I could not own up to any disability, so I turned the tables on
her in the following letter:

"New York, 26 West 61st Street,

November 12, 1891.

"Dear Eliza:

"In