This haven of rest， where the world-famous little woman came， ever and anon， to recruit her overtaxed energies， was very tastefully furnished， adorned with engravings， books， and statuary. Her mother， sister， and brother made up the household朼 pleasing， cultivated trio. The brother was a handsome youth of good judgment， and given to sage remarks； the sister， witty， intuitive， and incisive in speech； the mother， dressed in rich Quaker costume， and though nearly seventy， still possessed of great personal beauty. She was intelligent， refined， and in manner and appearance， reminded one of Angelina Grimké； as she looked in her younger days. Everything about the house and its appointments indicated that it was the abode of genius and cultivation， and， although Anna was absent， the hospitalities were gracefully dispensed by her family. Napoleon and Shakespeare seemed to be Anna's patron saints， looking down， on all sides， from the wall. The mother amused us with the sore trials her little orator had inflicted on the members of the household by her vagaries in the world of fame.
On the way to Kennett Square， a young gentleman pointed out to us the home of Benjamin West， who distinguished himself， to the disgust of broadbrims generally， as a landscape painter. In commencing his career， it is said he made use of the tail of a cat in lieu of a brush. Of course Benjamin's first attempts were on the sly， and he could not ask paterfamilias for money to buy a brush without encountering the good man's scorn. Whether in the hour of his need and fresh enthusiasm， poor puss was led to the sacrificial altar， or whether he found her reposing by the roadside， having paid the debt of Nature， our informant could not say； enough that， in time， he owned a brush and immortalized himself by his skill in its use. Such erratic ones as Whittier， West， and Anna Dickinson go to prove that even the prim， proper， perfect Quakers are subject to like infirmities with the rest of the human family.
I had long heard of the "Progressive Friends" in the region around Longwood； had read the many bulls they issued from their "yearly meetings" on every question， on war， capital punishment， temperance， slavery， woman's rights； had learned that they were turning the cold shoulder on the dress， habits， and opinions of their Fathers； listening to the ministrations of such worldlings as William Lloyd Garrison， Theodore Tilton， and Oliver Johnson， in a new meeting house， all painted and varnished， with cushions， easy seats， carpets， stoves， a musical instrument杝hade of George Fox， forgive朼nd three brackets with vases on the "high seat，" and， more than all that， men and women were indiscriminately seated throughout the house.
All this Miss Anthony and I beheld with our own eyes， and， in company with Sarah Pugh and Chandler Darlington， did sit together in the high seat and talk in the congregation of the people. There， too， we met Hannah Darlington and Dinah Mendenhall，杗ames long known in every good work，朼nd， for the space of one day， did enjoy the blissful serenity of that earthly paradise.
The women of Kennett Square were celebrated not only for their model housekeeping but also for their rare cultivation on all subjects of general interest.
In November I again started on one of my Western trips， but， alas！ on the very day the trains were changed， and so I could not make connections to meet my engagements at Saginaw and Marshall， and just saved myself at Toledo by going directly from the cars before the audience， with the dust of twenty-four hours' travel on my garments. Not being able to reach Saginaw， I went straight to Ann Arbor， and spent three days most pleasantly in visiting old friends， ****** new ones， and surveying the town， with its grand University.
I was invited to Thanksgiving dinner at the home of Mr. Seaman， a highly cultivated Democratic editor， author of "Progress of Nations." A choice number of guests gathered round his hospitable board on that occasion， over which his wife presided with dignity and grace. Woman suffrage was the target for the combined wit and satire of the company， and， after four hours of uninterrupted sharpshooting， pyrotechnics， and laughter， we dispersed to our several abodes， fairly exhausted with the excess of entertainment.
One gentleman had the moral hardihood to assert that men had more endurance than women， whereupon a lady remarked that she would like to see the thirteen hundred young men in the University laced up in steel-ribbed corsets， with hoops， heavy skirts， trains， high heels， panniers， chignons， and dozens of hairpins sticking in their scalps， cooped up in the house year after year， with no exhilarating exercise， no hopes， aims， nor ambitions in life， and know if they could stand it as well as the girls. "Nothing，" said she， "but the fact that women， like cats， have nine lives， enables them to survive the present ré；gime to which custom dooms the ***."
While in Ann Arbor I gave my lecture on "Our Girls" in the new Methodist church朼 large building， well lighted， and filled with a brilliant audience.
The students， in large numbers， were there， and strengthened the threads of my discourse with frequent and generous applause； especially when I urged on the Regents of the University the duty of opening its doors to the daughters of the State. There were several splendid girls in Michigan， at that time， preparing themselves for admission to the law department.
