Not only did Alice Paul ask you to work but after you had agreed to it, she kept after you. “She ‘nagged’ us”-they say humorously at Headquarters. Once, just before leaving for Chicago, Alice Paul appointed a certain young person chairman of a certain committee, with power to select chairmen of ten other committees to arrange for a demonstration when the Suffrage Special returned. This was four weeks off and yet in three days from Chicago came a telegram: “Wire me immediately the names of your chairmen!” But just as Alice Paul never thanked herself for what she was doing, it never occurred to her to thank anybody else. And perhaps she had an innate conviction that it was egregious personally to thank people for devotion to a cause. However that did not always work out in practice, naturally. Once a woman, a volunteer, who had worked all the morning reported to Alice Paul at noon. She retailed what she had done. Alice Paul made no comment whatever, but asked her immediately if she would go downtown for her. The woman refused; went away and did not come back. Alice Paul asked a friend for an explanation of her absence. “She is offended,” her friend explained. “You did not thank her for what she did.” “But,” exclaimed Alice Paul, “she did not do it for me. She did it for Suffrage. I thought she would be delighted to do it for Suffrage.” After that, however, Alice Paul tried very hard to remember to thank everybody. Once a party member said to her, as she was leaving Headquarters, “I have a taxi here, Miss Paul—can’t I take you anywhere?” “No,” Alice Paul answered abruptly. She was halfway down the stairs when she seemed to remember something. Instantly she turned back and said, “Thank you!” Another time, somebody else announced that she was offended because Alice Paul had not thanked her, and was going to leave. A friend went to Alice Paul. “Mrs. Blank is leaving us. I am afraid you have offended her.” “Where is she?” Alice Paul demanded, “I will apologize at once.” “For what?” the friend inquired. “I don’t know,” Alice Paul answered, “_anything_!” Like Roosevelt, Alice Paul had a remarkable news sense. She was the joy of newspaper men. Ninety per cent of the Woman’s Party bulletins got publicity as against about twenty per cent of others. A New Orleans editor said they were the best publicity organization in the country. Gilson Gardner compares her to a Belasco, staging the scene admirably but, herself, always in the background. Later, when the first stress was over, her companions spoke of the joy of work with her. They marveled at that creative quality which made her put over her demonstrations on so enormous a scale and the beauty with which she inundated them.