do the cause harm by arousing an opposition which means the loss of many
votes when the question comes up before the Legislature next winter.

"But I'll tell you what I'd like," she added, seeing the shade of
disappointment that clouded Mary's face for a second. "I'd like to have
that description published in _The Survey_, and I'd like to take you
with me this afternoon to the meeting of a committee of the Commercial
Club, and have you tell them about this visit, just as you have told it
in this letter. It's one of the most realistic things I ever read. It
fairly makes my flesh creep in places."

Mary gave a gasp of astonishment, unable to believe at first that Mrs.
Blythe was serious. To be pushed forward as a magazine writer and a
public speaker, both in one day, was too much for her comprehension.

"Oh, Mrs. Blythe! I couldn't make a speech in public!" protested Mary,
half frightened at the mere thought.

"I don't want you to," was the placid answer. "I merely want you to come
with me and sit at a big table with a dozen or more people around it,
and answer the questions that we put to you about what you've seen.
You're not afraid to do that, are you?"

"No, if that's all," admitted Mary hesitatingly. "It's never been any
trouble for me to do just plain talking. It used to be that my
difficulty was I never knew when to quit."

"I'll attend to that part of it," laughed Mrs. Blythe.

So it came about that afternoon that Mary sat at the big directors'
table in an upper room of the Commercial Club building, and told once
more the story of her visit to the tenement on Myrtle and Tenth Streets.
She began it a little hesitatingly, with a quicker beating of pulses and
a deepening of color, but gradually she lost her self-consciousness. The
inspiration of many interested listeners gave her a sense of power. She
was conscious of the breathless silence in which her story held them.
She felt rather than saw that no one stirred, and that they were all
moved by the story of the old blind grandmother, grieving over the
golden curl that was all that was left to her of the child who was her
sunshine. When she mimicked the agent's voice and manner, the ripple of
appreciation which passed around the table gratified her more than the
applause which followed. It showed that she had made what Sandford Berry
would have called "a decided hit."

"You will do it again," Mrs. Blythe said when the meeting was over and
they were on their