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The General never recovered from the shock of that terrible ordeal. He died suddenly from heart failure the following July.

After my husband's death, I determined upon retiring to private life, but almost daily received letters from managers of places of amusement, in all parts of the States, offering me engagements, all of which I declined. My most intimate friends urged me to forego my determination, but I refused.

When visiting some friends in Bridgeport three months subsequent to the General's death, Mr. Barnum called upon me, and when I asked his opinion upon the subject, his reply was that I belonged to the public, and if the public wished to see me I should acquiesce. Turning to Mr. Bleeker, he said, "Take her out! Take her out! If she remains as she is, her days will be shortened. You both remember that when I reached the age of sixty-two I retired from business, under advice, for three years. They were years of unhappiness to me. No doubt if I had continued to be inactive, I should have died. I intend when death takes me to find me in harness." He died at the age of eighty -- still in business.

I accepted his advice, and have since fulfilled many engagements with progit both to the management and myself.

On Easter Monday, April 6, 1885, I was married to Count Primo Magri, at the Church of the Holy Trinity, Madison-ave. and 42nd-st., New York, by the Rev. Mr. Watkins. As I had issue invitations only to personal friends, the large church was well filled, but with no disagreeable crowding. The Count's brother, Baron Magri, acted as groomsman, and Miss Sarah Adams as bridesmaid.

When asked if I don't get tired of this public life, I am wont to answer that in a sense I belong to the public. The appearing before audiences has been my life. I have hardly known any other. It is difficult to realize that in reality I have met three generations. It is not at all unusual for people who meet me to say, " I saw you years ago, and have never forgotten it, and now I'm bringing my daughter, that she can have it to tell of, just as I have." Not infrequently women say, "here is my grandchild! I want him to shake hands with you, as his mother did when she was little!" Recently I was greeted by two elderly women, accompanied by an old man, all of whom had witnessed my marriage with General Tom Thumb (Charles S. Stratton) in 1863.

Then, too, there are many sections of country where new towns have sprung up, and small towns have become thriving cities. In these I am interested. Having been over the ground when it was an unbroken forest or a straggling village, the new developments are like magic to me it is like Houdini Blitz or Herrmann producing live rabbits from an empty hat. Also I find many old friends glad to greet me, and make new friends, whom I hope to meet again. All this, taken into account with Mr. Barnum's advice, "Keep going, Mrs. Stratton, keep going! I believe if I remained inactive, it would shorten my days," has influenced me. As Mr. Barnum lived to be eighty, and died in harness, I have felt he was capable of giving advice.