In the end, through simple illustrations I believed I had accomplished my purpose. A dozen invitations to speak to similar groups were proffered. The conversation went on and on, and when we were finally through it was too late to return to New York. Under a curfew law everything in Silver Lake shut at nine o’clock. I could not even send a telegram to let my family know whether I had been thrown in the river or was being held incommunicado. It was nearly one before I reached Trenton, and I spent the night in a hotel.

In Brattleboro, Vermont, my audience was made up of another slice of America—honest, strong, capable housewives who made their pies and doughnuts and preserves before they came. When I had finished there was not a murmur of commendation from the three hundred. The minister of the church where the meeting was held had asked me to stand beside him to say how-do-you-do when they came out. They just went by, eyes straight ahead.

On the telephone afterwards, however, each was asking what the other thought. The cases I had cited were typical of their own community. “Was she referring to this one or that one?” they queried.

I returned two days later to lunch with a doctor and four or five social workers, and was surprised to hear, “The women want to start a clinic.”

“But there wasn’t any enthusiasm when I suggested it the other morning.”

“The people around here don’t express much openly. They were moved to quietness. But just the same they’re starting a clinic in Brattleboro.”

Chapter Thirty
NOW IS THE TIME FOR CONVERSE

Side by side with the clinic and education another project had been stirring for some time in my mind. Internationalism was in the air, and I wanted that outlook brought into the movement in the United States. To this end I made plans for the Sixth International Malthusian and Birth Control Conference, to be held in New York in March, 1925.

In the summer of 1924 I called a Conference Committee meeting of the League. That is, in addition to the regular Board members, other supporters were invited to attend. As soon as the matter was brought up they expostulated, “You still have to ask for money to run the Review. How can you pay the fares of the delegates and furnish them with hospitality? Do you know how much it will cost?”

Since I wished to have the Conference important enough to make its mark I replied promptly, “Not less than twenty-five thousand dollars.”