Howard asked me the same thing, so I told him: Eugene Debs. “A Socialist?” he said. He couldn’t believe it. Like this, all pop-eyed: “My wife voted for a Socialist?” . . . I know. My vote didn’t count. That’s how Howard looked at it. But secretly, I fancied that Mr. Debs might find out, through friends and associates of the Baxters, that an underage lady voter on Woodford Street wanted him to be president. . . . The next time? I had two babies by then and voted for Mr. Robert La Follette, and this time it counted. . . . Oh, goodness, Howard was beside himself. “Another Socialist?” he said.
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