It must seem a strange contrast to the woman who has worked so perseveringly in the face of untold difficulties--this change that a few years have wrought. It has not been so very long since she was the universal butt of ridicule, lampooned and caricatured, with all that malice, in its coarsest and most brutal form, could suggest. Her age was the favorite theme of the callow witling, her cause a never-failing subject for reproach and abuse. It is all over and done with, thanks to the new race of men which women themselves are training and educating. There are no words for her nowadays but those of praise and affection. She has lived to see truth survive and justice vindicated. Men no longer regard her as the arch-enemy to domestic peace, disseminating doctrines that mean the destruction of home and the disorganization of society. They perceive in her, rather, the advocate of that liberty which knows no limitations either of sex or of condition--a freedom which, achieved, means the incalculable advancement of the race. In all the assemblages where Miss Anthony was present during those memorable months--the observed of all observers, holding a veritable court--her admirers were both men and women, and no belle at a ball was ever more unmistakably deferred to. It made her happy, as it should have done. But it made far happier those who have believed in her all these years, that she should have triumphed over ignorance and prejudice, and at threescore and ten have come into her kingdom at last. When it is asked what woman was most prominent, most honored, most in demand in all the public ceremonials and private functions held in Chicago during the Columbian Exposition, there can be but one answer--Susan B. Anthony.