Kate Austin, a noble and heroic woman, a fearless friend of freedom and humanity, a great intellect and a warm, true heart, is dead. Born and reared upon a farm, and among simple and everyday folk, her mind expanded and her mental sweep touched the distant worlds, and beheld the glories of the intellectual life. In the van of the army of progress there are a few fine and fearless souls who are endowed with the prophetic spirit—who see and feel the glory of the on-coming achievements of the race; and of these Kate Austin was one. This woman, living a quiet domestic life, a farmer’s wife, became known to thousands of progressive thinkers through her contributions to the radical press; and her pen was a power well weilded in behalf of human freedom. She was one of the few who are not afraid of themselves, and have full faith in humanity. She was always fearlessly frank. She was not afraid of words. Kate Austin was a remarkable woman; one of those heroins whose names, tho never enshrined in the pantheon of history, deserve a higher place on the roll of human greatness than the honored names of the crowned and titled nobodies whom an ignorant multitude so stupidly venerate. We, who knew her work and worth, must lay the only garlands upon her grave, and to her memory pay the tribute of our love and tears.