There was Samuel Gompers, President of the American Federation of Labor, high in Administration confidence. It was a long wait before Abby Scott Baker and I were allowed into his sanctum. “Well, ladies, what can I do for you?” was the opening question, and we’ thought happily here is a man who will not bore us with his life record on behalf of women. He comes to the point with direction. “Will you speak to the President on behalf of your organization, which has repeatedly endorsed national suffrage, to induce him to put more pressure behind the Senate which is delaying suffrage?” we asked with equal direction. We concealed a heavy sigh as a reminiscent look came into his shrewd, wan eyes, and he began: “Doubtless you ladies do not know that as long ago as 1888”-I believe that was the date-“my organization sent a petition to the United States Congress praying for the adoption of this very amendment and we have stood for it ever since . . . .” “Don’t you think it is about time that prayer was answered?” we ventured to interrupt. But his reverie could not be disturbed. He looked at us coldly, for he was living in the past, and continued to recount the patient, enduring qualities of his organization. “I will speak to my secretary and see what the organization can do,” he said finally. We murmured again that it was the President we wished him to speak to, but we left feeling reasonably certain that there would be no dynamic pressure from this cautious leader. Herbert Hoover was the next man we sought. Here we encountered the well-groomed secretary who would not carry our cards into his chief. “Mr. Hoover has appointments a week ahead,” he said. “For example, his chart for to-day includes a very important conference with some grain men from the Northwest,” . . . and he continued to recite the items of the chart, ending with “a dinner at the White House to-night.” “If we could see him for just five minutes,” we persisted, “he could do what we ask this very night at the White House.” But the trained-to-protect secretary was obdurate. “We shall leave a written request for five minutes at Mr. Hoover’s convenience,” we said, and prepared the letter. Time passed without answer. Mrs. Baker and I were compelled to go again to Mr. Hoover’s office.