From collection Frances Willard Journal Transcripts
ground up in the mill of this relentless torture. God help us to be good & worthy of our Mother.
January 26, 1893
We had a great meeting at the New Court Cong'l Ch. Yollington [? ] Park. The women stood by Lady Henry & Mrs. Atherton (her chief opponent) was hissed down. I was sorry for the hisses and Lady H kept calling "Order" for she does net like it either.-Overflow meetings were also addressed by us both. A day of honest hard work.
January 27, 1893
Lady Henry has lightened her heart a bit by placing her personal business affairs in the hands of B.T.C. She has found all her intricate affairs in better shape than she feared and seems wonderfully cheered. I am so thankful for the "Little One" as I call her-among my score of pet names-is so "tugged with fortune" that I don't wonder she gets nervously worn. Dr. Norman Kerr gave his written opinion today that she would fail up physically if things went on after the present order.-I sat for a photograph at Barrand-for "Men & Women." Went with Nan to George Wade the sculptor to see the children's cold water fountain.-James G. Blaine died today-the most disappointing character and most fascinating politician of his epoch.
January 28, 1893
Glasgow
We arrived early this AM after a most comfortable night on the famous Express in an (adapted) Pullman sleeper. It was the first respectably comfortable car (for cold weather) that I have seen since leaving dear comfort loving and living America. We drove to Cockburn's temperance hotel and found bright fires in our nice large rooms and breakfast in a drawing room set apart for our use. Mrs. Bryson, the Wilsons & others called, Nan spoke to a 1000 children (the first woman that ever did in Glasgow!) We reclined for rest, wrote letters and I read Crabbe, Shenstone & the ' . . . .' Shepherd-here in the hotel library. No hotel library ever goes with a bar.
January 29, 1893
Went to the cathedral & listened to the droning psalms and perfunctory services. Surely the Rev. Dr. '[....] Barnacle'-as Dickens hath it-possesses in fee simple these state-supported "establishments." They are like clipt yew trees in comparison with the fragrant posy bed of the on-coming modes of worship. It was interesting to learn that Cromwell once worshipped in this exquisite [pile crossed out] quiver of gothic arrows and being
