The State Reformatory for Boys was situated in that town, and, after the lecture the superintendent of the Reformatory invited me to visit it and say a few words to the inmates. I went and spoke for half an hour, carrying away a memory of the place and of the boys which haunted me for months. A y ear later, while I was waiting for a train in the station at Shelbyville, a lad about sixteen years old passed me and hesitated, looking as if he knew me.
I saw that he wanted to speak and dared not, so I nodded to him.
``You think you know me, don't you?'' I asked, when he came to my side.
``Yes'm, I do know you,'' he told me, eagerly.
``You are Miss Shaw, and you talked to us boys at Pontiac last year. I'm out on parole now, but I'ain't forgot. Us boys enjoyed you the best of any show we ever had!''
I was touched by this artless compliment, and anxious to know how I had won it, so I asked, ``What did I say that the boys liked?''
The lad hesitated. Then he said, slowly, ``Well, you didn't talk as if you thought we were all bad.''
``My boy,'' I told him, ``I don't think you are all bad. I know better!''
As if I had touched a spring in him, the lad dropped into the seat by my side; then, leaning toward me, he said, impulsively, but almost in a whisper:
``Say, Miss Shaw, SOME OF US BOYS SAYS OUR PRAYERS!''
Rarely have I had a tribute that moved me more than that shy confidence; and often since then, in hours of discouragement or failure, I have reminded myself that at least there must have been something in me once to make a lad of that age so open up his heart. We had a long and intimate talk, from which grew the abiding interest I feel in boys to- d ay.
Naturally I was sometimes inconvenienced by slight misunderstandings between local committees and myself as to the subjects of my lectures, and the most extreme instance of this occurred in a town where I arrived to find myself widely advertised as ``Mrs. Anna Shaw, who whistled before Queen Victoria''! Transfixed, I gaped before the bill- b oards, and by reading their additional lettering discovered the gratifying fact that at least I was not expected to whistle now. Instead, it appeared, I was to lecture on ``The Missing Link.''
As usual, I had arrived in town only an hour or two before the time fixed for my lecture; there was the briefest interval in which to clear up these pain- f ul misunderstandings. I repeatedly tried to reach the chairman who was to preside at the entertain- m ent, but failed. At last I went to the hall at the hour appointed, and found the local committee there, graciously waiting to receive me. Without wasting precious minutes in preliminaries, I asked why they had advertised me as the woman who had ``whistled before Queen Victoria.''
``Why, didn't you whistle before her?'' they ex- c laimed in grieved surprise.
``I certainly did not,'' I explained. ``Moreover, I w as never called `The American Nightingale,' and I have never lectured on `The Missing Link.'
Where DID you get that subject? It was not on the list I sent you.''
The members of the committee seemed dazed.
They withdrew to a corner and consulted in whis- p ers. Then, with clearing brow, the spokesman re- t urned.
``Why,'' he said, cheerfully, ``it's ****** enough!
We mixed you up with a Shaw lady that whistles; a nd we've been discussing the missing link in our debating society, so our citizens want to hear your views.''
``But I don't know anything about the missing link,'' I protested, ``and I can't speak on it.''
``Now, come,'' they begged. ``Why, you'll have to! We've sold all our tickets for that lecture.
The whole town has turned out to hear it.''
Then, as I maintained a depressed silence, one of them had a bright idea.
``I'll tell you how to fix it!'' he cried. ``Speak on any subject you please, but bring in something about the missing link every few minutes. That will satis- f y 'em.''
``Very well,'' I agreed, reluctantly. ``Open the meeting with a song. Get the audience to sing `America' or `The Star-spangled Banner.' That will give me a few minutes to think, and I will see what can be done.''
Led by a very nervous chairman, the big audience began to sing, and under the inspiration of the music the solution of our problem flashed into my mind.
``It is easy,'' I told myself. ``Woman is the miss- i ng link in our government. I'll give them a suf- f rage speech along that line.''
When the song ended I began my part of the en- t ertainment with a portion of my lecture on ``The Fate of Republics,'' tracing their growth and decay, and pointing out that what our republic needed to give it a stable government was the missing link of woman suffrage. I got along admirably, for every five minutes I mentioned ``the missing link,'' and the audience sat content and apparently interested, while the members of the committee burst into bloom on the platform.
