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Updated: June 13, 2025
Here, too, I first met Senator Sargent's family, and visited them in Sacramento City, where we had a suffrage meeting in the evening and one for women alone next day. At a similar meeting in San Francisco six hundred women were present in Platt's Hall. We discussed marriage, maternity, and social life in general.
The beautiful young lives lured me on in service that never grew monotonous, and I have been paid over and over again for all I ever gave. It is a great satisfaction to feel that five of our nine church trustees are graduates of the Sunday-school. I attended my first Christmas festival of the Sunday-school in Platt's Hall in 1864, and I have never missed one since.
But he had the reward of reaching the gates of the drive not many seconds after Maud, and of seeing her walking more slowly now down the road that led to Platt's. This confirmation of his suspicions enabled him momentarily to forget the blister which was forming on the heel of his left foot. He set out after her at a good pace. The road, after the habit of country roads, wound and twisted.
They hastily summoned old Jake Platt's son, just fresh from medical college, who, helpless with this suffering bit of femininity, supplied in attention and practical nursing what he lacked in medical discernment and skill, to the end that one engagement was broken and another formed in a fortnight.
This was written in connection with events which led up to my refusing to accept Senator Platt's or Governor Odell's suggestions as to a Federal Judgeship and a Federal District Attorneyship, and insisting on the appointment, first of Judge Hough and later of District Attorney Stimson; because in each case I felt that the work to be done was of so high an order that I could not take an ordinary man.
Old Zizzbaum had the eye of an osprey, the memory of an elephant and a mind that unfolded from him in three movements like the puzzle of the carpenter's rule. He rolled to the front like a brunette polar bear, and shook Platt's hand. "And how is the good Mr. Navarro in Texas?" he said. "The trip was too long for him this year, so? We welcome Mr. Platt instead."
How could he know that these very eggs were feeding the dull red menace in Terry Platt's eyes? When Orville Platt ate a soft-boiled egg he concentrated on it. He treated it as a great adventure. Which, after all, it is. Few adjuncts of our daily life contain the element of chance that is to be found in a three-minute breakfast egg.
Maud made her way across the fields to the cottage down by Platt's. Her heart was as light as the breeze that ruffled the green hedges. Gaily she tripped towards the cottage door. Her hand was just raised to knock, when from within came the sound of a well-known voice. She had reached her goal, but her father had anticipated her.
Mud was smeared upon every path and every roadway, and Bobby's automobile slipped and slid in the oily, yellow liquid that lay sluggishly in every gutter and blotched every rod of his clean asphalt. Young Platt's face blanched as he saw Bobby. "I've made a miserable botch of it," he confessed, torn with an agony of regret at his failure; "and I can't see yet what I overlooked.
His tone held a crisp cordiality, searching and professionally genial. "What d'ye want ... a story?" "Yes," said Stanley. "About the election?" Stanley hesitated. "Tell me about the gambling concession at Platt's Hall," he said suddenly. Buckley's manner changed. It became, if anything, more cordial. "My boy," his tone was low, "you're wasting time as a reporter.
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