Thus, with the highest respect and gratitude for its citizens, I left
Salt Lake and returned to Ogden, where I hoped for a new supply of books.

Finding neither letters nor books, and board being four dollars per day, I
began to feel symptoms of the "blues." Going to the landlord and stating
the case, he bade me have no fear, for no more would be demanded of me
than I was able to pay; and cheered by this unexpected kindness, I
resolved to patiently wait the issue of events. The next day being
election, it was strange to witness the procession of women voters wending
their way to the polls; but here, as in Salt Lake, the utmost order and
quiet prevailed, nor was bolt or bar necessary for protection at night,
when we were permitted to rest in sweet security from harm.

On going to the express office we were approached by a gentleman, who,
pointing to me, handed Hattie an envelope with the simple words, "If you
please;" few indeed, but fraught with mystery to us, our only solution
being that the envelope contained election tickets, and we were supposed
voters.

With a sense of relief we found the books at the express office, and we
took that opportunity to open the mysterious package, in which we found
five dollars. Describing the gentleman to the express agent, he said he
was a clerk in an eating house near by, a bachelor, and very liberal.
Certainly this act spoke nobly for the fraternity of bachelors, who are
supposed to go about armed with a coat of mail, especially invulnerable in
the region of the heart, while this unsolicited kindness unquestionably
indicated a large degree of tenderness of nature.

We sent him a note of acknowledgment, which we felt to be but a feeble