remely nervous. If she should make a failure now at
the beginning of her career, it would be critical for her future.

The night came, and with ill-concealed nervousness Anna put on the new
silk dress, shook her heavy curls into place, and with resolute
courage went to the hall, where, on mounting the platform, she noted
the most tremendous audience she had ever before faced. Mr. Garrison
opened the meeting by reading a chapter of the Bible, then he used up
as much time as possible in remarks, in order to make the best of a
bad situation, for he felt that she was not in a state of mind or body
to hold the coldly critical audience before her. While he read and
spoke poor Anna behind him waited to be presented, in an agony of
nervousness which she struggled not to show. Then came the singing of
the "Negro Boatman's Song of Whittier" by a quartet, accompanied by
the organ. At last, with an easy smile, which concealed his real
feelings, Mr. Garrison turned to introduce Anna, and she rose and
walked forward to the front of the platform, looking more immature and
girlish than ever before. Her first sentences were halting,
disconnected, her fingers twined and twisted nervously around the
handkerchief she held; then she saw a sympathetic upturned face in the
front row of the audience staring up at her. Something in the face
roused Anna to a determined effort. Throwing herself into her subject,
she soon was pouring out a passionate appeal for a broader national
life and action. Gone were fear and self-consciousness, gone all but
determination to make her audience feel as she felt, believe as she
believed, in the interest of humanity and the highest ideals. For over
an hour she held that coldly critical mass of New England hearers as
if by a magic spell, then the vast audience rose and gave vent to
their emotion by the singing of "America," and then persons of
distinction and wealth crowded around the speaker of the evening with
thanks and praise. To one and all the young orator, whose eyes were
still shining with enthusiasm, replied, simply: "I thank you. The
subject is very near my heart," and as those who met her turned away
they could not hide their amazement at the ability of a young person
who looked so immature in her girlish beauty and freshness.

This was the beginning of a period of success. She delivered the
Boston lecture in several other New England cities, and had many fine
press notices on it, one of which closed