My long brown hair still flowed down over my shoulders and I was determined to go to the barber's and have it sheared before I made a public appearance, but General Sheridan would not hear of this.

He insisted that I crown my long locks with a plug hat, but here I was adamant.

I would go to the party in my Stetson or I would not go to the party at all.
The ball was held at the Riverside Hotel, which was then one of the fashionable hostelries of Chicago.

When I was escorted in, I was told to give the colored boy my hat and coat--to this I violently objected.
I prized the coat beyond all my earthly possessions and intended to take no chances with it.

I was finally persuaded that the boy was a responsible employee of the hotel and reluctantly gave him the garment.
Then I suffered myself to be led into the ballroom.