of asking him about his marriage. He asked me why I had undertaken the
rash act and I told him that I was lonesome for him. Things drifted on
for months, and he returned to this city to live. It was then that he
came to me and told me that he was married. He explained how he had
been compelled to have a certain sum of money in order to maintain his
influence in the political circle and that he had married a wealthy
woman. He insisted that I meet his wife, but I refused. I also refused
to accept any financial aid from him. If it had been his money I should
gladly have taken it, but I would not take a cent of the funds which had
been the means of buying my place at my husband’s side. I then answered
an advertisement for ‘housekeeper wanted’ and accepted a position with
a small family, which only lasted a few weeks, at which time I found
myself penniless. Next, I was a chambermaid in a hotel, but left because
I could not have my boy with me. Then kind heaven seemed to favor me,
for I secured a position as companion to an old lady. I remained there
seven years; my boy was allowed to live in the house with me, and went
to school as soon as he had reached the proper age. I saw Mr. Sunderman
occasionally. He was a well known attorney and a man of affairs. During
my stay at the home of the old lady I became very much attached to her,
and it was little wonder that when she passed into the peaceful slumber
of death that I was much moved.
“Many relatives that I had neither seen nor heard of attended the
funeral. When the procession was forming to leave the house my attention
was attracted to a beautiful woman, who had a little girl with her. She
was an earnest mourner; it seemed almost impossible for her to give up
her dear aunt to the relentless hand of death. She moaned and sobbed
so pitifully as the casket was borne from the house that I thought to
lead her; she leaned heavily on my arm and we slowly followed the form
we loved so well and sadly watched the pall bearers as they placed
the black case in the sombre vehicle. Then the carriages, which were
silently waiting, began to draw up to the curbing as the huge burial
car moved away. One, two, three handsomely groomed teams stopped, until
the curtained doors of the carriages to which they were hitched closed
with a muffled sound, when they would slowly walk away as though they
understood they were to make room for the next.
“The fourth carriage halted; the attentive assistant opened the door and
the lady I was supporting moved toward it, leading the little girl with
her.
“‘Would you mind letting this lady ride with you?’ asked the undertaker,
with a bow.
“For the first time she looked at me and seemed to recognize me as the
woman whom she had seen in charge of affairs in the house when she had
first arrived.
“‘No,’ she said, with a toss of her head, ‘I don’t care to take any
servants in with me.’
“I watched the streets and boulevards for months before I again set eyes
on that turnout; when I did it was but a matter of inquiry to find out it
was the private equipage of Mrs. R. Sunderman.
“I had reached the stage of desperation, where I was ready to do anything
but one thing, and that was to die. I wanted to live long enough to
impress upon her mind who I was. It was while in this frame of mind
that I met my husband. I had lost all respect for myself; I had reached
that stage of degradation which is worse than to resolve to take one’s
life. I had decided to sell my soul in order to have sufficient funds
to at some time humiliate this woman who had refused to carry me in her
carriage, which should have been mine. I went to a house of bad repute to
apply for admission; while talking to the proprietress a man came in. He
signified a desire to talk to me, and we left the place together. He was
only a poor man, but his soul contains some of the rarest qualities of
manliness that has ever been discovered in the human race. In ten days
we were married. I did not love him, but he offered me and my boy a home.
He asked no questions but, as he said, took it for granted that I was as
good as himself; I have never loved him with that pure, unselfish love
which is so essential to real happiness, but he has been good to me and I
have done my duty.”
“But what about your first—er—Mr. Sunderman, I mean?”
“Well, he followed his political ambitions, and his party has been
victorious in nearly all its efforts. Money has come to him without
apparent effort.
“My husband finally purchased a grocery store in which he toiled
incessantly to provide for us. Such life grew monotonous. I was seeking
some way of relieving him, when one day I picked up a paper and saw great
headlines saying, ‘Sunderman Faction Wins.’
“‘The result of yesterday’s caucus plainly shows Hon. Roy Sunderman
master of the situation. His position and power unquestionably defined,’
etc.
“In reading the article I discovered that Sunderman had gained control
of the political situation. He did not seek any office, but rather chose
to be dictator, thereby holding the patronage of high officials in his
hand. I next ascertained that he would be appointed minister to some
foreign country to intercede in issues of great importance which at that
time held the public eye, as he saw fit. The newspaper account which
contained the latter statement went on to say that the great honor shown
Mr. Sunderman was only a fitting tribute in return for the effective
and valuable services which he had rendered the party, and that he was
given the choice of several different appointments, but preferred the one
named because it would afford him an opportunity to take his family on a
sojourn in Europe with him.
“At last, I had not waited so long for nothing. This is an exact copy of
the letter I wrote him.”
The letter was as forceful in expression as was the writer in her
deliberate narration. I will produce it word for word:
“_Hon. Roy Sunderman._
“DEAR SIR: No doubt you have expected to hear from me ere
this; I have been waiting for the opportunity which your
popularity has just now afforded me. If the monotony of my
humdrum existence has taken me entirely out of your life, it
is only the more reason why your rise to prominence has been
more plain to me; I have no favors to ask, but a request to
make, hence this letter. I can see no happiness in having for
a husband a man who on the stroke of five in the morning rolls
out of his bed, hurries into his clothes and rushes away to his
stall, where he deals out potatoes and codfish to the dictation
of those to whom he must humbly bow in order to retain their
patronage; remaining away all day without his lunch and only
arriving home in the evening in time to eat dinner, which has
been spoiled by being kept warm, and then tired, cross and
peevish, he goes off to seek the rest from the day’s toil and
worry, only to rise and repeat the program as the days go by.
The man is all right, I have no fault to find with him, but his
ill health and the overwork have sapped his vitality until
ambition in him is a gone and forgotten element. You have power
and my husband is well qualified to fill some office, which
would be an honor to him and a glory to me. He is educated and
I want you to have him appointed to a position. I also want you
to arrange to have _our_ boy sent to school.
“These things I _know_ you will take pleasure in doing,
believing as I do, that my wish is your pleasure.
I remain,
⸺ nee Mary Dalby.”
“He came to me upon receipt of the letter ready to advance me money,
anything, that he could do, but the appointment was out of the question.
“‘No,’ I said, ‘it is not; I shall expect you to do as I say.’
“‘But, listen, Mary, the positions which I did control have all been
tendered to others since I accepted my appointment, and the only way I
could get any favors now would be to withdraw.”
“‘All right, sir, withdraw,’ said I.
“‘But now, dear, be reasonable. My family is all ready to sail.’
“‘Well, let them sail.’
“‘Yes, I—I know,’ he stammered. ‘But they can’t sail without me and I
can’t disappoint them now.’
“‘You can send them and join them later.’
“‘No, I cannot afford it.’
“‘Cannot afford it,’ I gasped.
“‘No. You see, Mary, I have to spend so much keeping pace with the crowd,
that money is not at all plentiful with me.’
“‘And this appointment is the only means you have of going abroad?’
“‘Yes, Mary.’
“I looked at him, his eyes were filled with tears. My heart softened;
I saw the tender emotion as it lit up his face until a halo seemed to
surround his head. I knew that I loved him yet. I heard his trembling
voice, as he pleaded with me, I saw his soft, white hands as they reached
out to me in mute appeal; I think the tears which now half blinded me
must have had a softening effect on my callous nature. Then with a flash
I thought of a son without a father, I again went through years of toil,
and as if a panoramic view was being unrolled before me, I saw a house in
mourning, a hearse drawn by black horses, draped with great, black nets,
whose fringe hung almost to the ground. I saw a line of vehicles moving
slowly, a man opened the door, then I heard a voice say, ‘No, I do not
care to take any servants.’ Then with the pride wrought by the tingling
of the warm blood which coursed through my veins, I said, ‘Well, Mr.
Sunderman, I am sorry, but I must ask you and your family to forego this
one pleasure.’
“He did not mistake my sarcasm; he only asked me what would be the
consequences, if he refused.
“‘If you are anxious to know,’ said I, ‘just refuse and wait twenty-four
hours.’
“Within two days the papers were full of Mr. Sunderman’s withdrawal on
account of a sudden breaking down of his health. He had many applicants
for his influence, but he did not tell anyone that he had given up the
only position over which he had any influence for reasons of his own.
“In less than thirty days, a rural looking man called at my husband’s
place of business, and stated that he was looking for an opportunity to
buy a store something on the order of his; my husband priced the store,
and the man took it without a word; my husband is industrious and I had
a hard time keeping him in a contented frame of mind for thirty days
more, but I insisted so strongly on his taking a much needed rest, that
he was still idle when he was notified that he had been selected to fill
a position as a postoffice inspector. His instructions were for him to
proceed to headquarters at once to qualify. Our boy, Roy’s and mine, is
in a military school and I anticipate that he will be selected as a West
Point cadet, when he has made the proper advancement.”
“And does your husband know?”
“He knows nothing, except that five thousand a year is better than
running a shop.”
TALE NINETEEN.
A STORY OF THE LEVEE.
“Ah, yes, ’tis sweet still to remember,
Though ’twere less painful to forget;
For while my heart glows like an ember.
Mine eyes with sorrow’s drops are wet,
And oh, my heart is aching yet.
It is a law of mortal pain
That old wounds, long accounted well,
Beneath the memory’s potent spell,
Will wake to life and bleed again.”
In spite of police rules and the fact that there is a city ordinance
prohibiting the admission of women in saloons in Chicago, in spite of the
reported raids on dens in what has been known as the levee district for
years, the writer indulged in a little slumming last evening.
One engaged in Dr. Parkhurst’s favorite pastime need go but a few blocks
from the Central Police Station to find sufficient fields of labor to
keep one busy for days. South State street appeared to be more attractive
to a man going out on such an expedition alone, for the section of the
street chosen for the work was nearly as black as Hades while strictly
speaking it was as light as day owing to the numerous arc lights which
served to light the inexperienced to these shining dens of vice.
The thrum of the guitar and the twang of the banjo and pounding of the
piano served to entice me to enter a resort that is well known as the
rendezvous of as precious a lot of thieving “old Mols,” pickpockets and
grafters of all sorts as any city should care to boast.
Upon my entrance my attention was attracted by the many signs of fresh
paint which was smeared over the faces of the denizens of gaudy attire
which in some cases could almost be described by saying they were
attired in a pair of red hose and a short bodice. In many instances the
flaring nostrils and flaming eyes were temporarily obscured by clouds of
cigarette smoke, only to be assisted in their display of dissipation by
a liberal supply of gold teeth, as the degraded creatures would eagerly
open their carmined lips to receive again the agent of insanity.
I was greeted with all the endearing terms known to the human tongue,
from “Hello, sweetheart,” to “Honey, buy your baby a drink.”
I saw everything from a friendly handshake to a hugging match behind an
artificial palm. Every inducement to a man of virile, animal instincts
was held out to the male visitors of this law abiding place, while the
revolting scenes of depraved humanity were made more distasteful to the
refined person on account of the pit of hellish wretchedness his fellow
men had fallen into.
So much for a city which is regarded as being under the surveillance, of
proper authorities at all times.
I sat down at a table alone. The three-man band struck up a waltz, the
notes arose and mingled with smoke, curses and a discordant humming which
came from the husky throats of a dozen or more wearers of bleached hair
and otherwise falsified females.
As the music continued I glanced around the large room. The sight of
drunken men lolling over women whose only claim to life and conviviality
was supplied by the effect of the different intoxicants which these
daughters of misfortune had freely indulged in, was sufficiently
disgusting to cause me to desire to make my exit without further delay.
I arose to go; just as I did so, I caught the eye of a creature whose
smile showed in itself just how much of an effort it cost for the woman
to present it. I lingered by the chair, and she approached me timidly.
Her action, combined with her appearance, served to mislead me. I mistook
her for a novice; on account of her seemingly natural shyness I looked
upon her as being wholly out of place. Her general appearance too was far
above the ordinary “she frequenters” of this place.
She was young, well preserved, modestly dressed and talked with a
degree of sense and moral refinement unknown to the patrons of the
establishment. Notwithstanding the fact that circumstances were against
her, I believed her when she told me that she was not an habitue of this
particular resort.
“But why are you here tonight?” I asked.
“Oh, I have the blues, good and plenty,” she said, as she dropped into a
chair.
“For why?” was my bantering query.
It was then that I was treated to a square look into her face. She was
pretty to say the least. Her soft hazel eyes denoted everything but
viciousness; her full, round face carried the freshness of youth and she
made feeble attempts to smile pleasantly, at which time she showed a set
of white, firm, but very short teeth. She gazed at me for a full moment,
then with an air of wisdom she said: “I suppose you are fixing to make a
raid on all the ‘joints’?”
“No, I am not,” was my honest reply, the meaning of which was so well
taken that this girl admitted that I was surely “off my beat.”
“You do not look like a man who chose his society from the ranks of these
people,” said she, with a look around the room.
“I should think you would know whether you had ever seen me around here
before,” said I.
“Nothing strange in that, for this is the first time I was ever in this
place in my life.”
By this time I had convinced her that I was not a “fly cop.” She had
caused me to believe that she, too, was telling the truth. I finally
invited her to have a drink.
“No. At least not here; this is too tough for me,” she said as she arose.
“But I want to talk to you.”
“I am willing to talk, but not here and if you will meet me at the next
corner in the basement, I will talk as long as you like. It is better and
cleaner there,” she added.
“Shall I go with you?”
“No, I will go alone. You follow.”
After she had gone out, I viewed myself in the dingy mirror. I wondered
if I really looked easy to that sly lady. I was not inclined to follow
her into any basement den and run the chance of her having told some of
the gang that I had insulted her, so they might have an excuse to beat me
into insensibility, rob me and throw me into the gutter, from whence I
would be gathered up by the kind hearted policeman and carted away to the
station more dead than alive and be called upon to answer to the charge
of drunk and disorderly conduct, the next day, and pay tribute to the
tune of a big fine, while my assailants were waiting for more “suckers.”
Curiosity and stubbornness led me to follow at a safe distance and try if
possible to ascertain what sort of a place she entered.
It was on a corner; a view of the marble steps and shining brass rails
denoted cleanliness. Bright lights diffused a warmth of welcome, while
strains of music floated from the farther recesses of the basement. An
expensive sign told me that the place was a “cafe.” “Ladies’ Entrance”
was the inimitable farce that adorned the wall directly over one pair
of steps leading downward, while numerous announcements over the other
stairway announced all that was to be found by a respectable man of
leisure. With a slight feeling of trepidation, I descended to the source
of hilarity; as I drew nearer the music I became braver. I sought a
table in a far off corner, and had not been there long when my new found
acquaintance approached me.
“Now,” I said, “I want you to tell me all about yourself.”
“And if I do will you advise me as to what course to pursue to right a
wrong?”
“I will try. But first have a drink. You are all upset; take a little
liquor to steady your nerves.”
The drinks being disposed of, she began.
“Ah well, it is a short story. I came to Chicago during the World’s
Fair. I was a pretty child of seventeen. My parents were very wealthy.
My former home was Grand Rapids, Michigan, but I became so enamored with
the exciting life of this great city that I prevailed upon my parents to
allow me to remain here and enter a school of music. For four years I
advanced rapidly. Society’s doors were wide open to me everywhere. I was
in great demand at all social functions on account of my rich voice. I
made many friends and was loved and petted by all. I met a man, one who
also sang; our sympathetic natures readily embraced each other, our souls
were in harmony, we saw with the same eyes, heard with the same ears, and
lived by the agencies of the same heart beats.
“Time flew as it only can for lovers. We became engaged. All looked like
one eternal, joyous day, but as time brings joy, so does it also bring
pain. My fiance held a position of trust and responsibility. He came to
me one day and said: ‘Jeanette, we must break our engagement,’ I thought
he was joking, but no such good fortune. He meant he was thousands of
dollars short in his accounts and wished to break off with me before it
became public, so that the disgrace would not rest so heavily on me. He
was noble for that, but I refused to release him, and wired my father,
who came. I told him all, and my Dad was a good Dad; he anticipated my
wish, and at once offered to make good all of Leslie’s shortage. It was
decided that the matter should be settled in that way. Just then a new
feature came to light. It developed that before I met Leslie he had been
badly smitten on his employer’s daughter, Emily Sutton. I had never seen
her; in fact, up to this time I did not know there was such a girl on
earth. Miss Sutton was conscious of Leslie’s financial trouble, and as
she had recently come into a large fortune in her own right, she, too,
offered aid to the man we both loved. She had heard of me and demanded
that I be jilted, and she become his wife. He refused, whereupon her
influence was brought to bear upon her father and to spite me, Leslie was
taken into custody. My father was true blue, and furnished the necessary
bond which gave Leslie his liberty. He disappeared, and the affair caused
an estrangement between my parents, which eventually drove my father to
suicide. My mother and I quarreled; she said such bitter things about the
loss my father had sustained by reason of his signing Leslie’s bond, that
I refused to accept a dollar of the balance of the estate. She eventually
married again and her second husband lost all my poor Dad had left.
“I applied for a position as soloist at a number of the different
churches, and each time some promise was made, but in every instance I
afterward received a brief note, saying the committee had decided not
to employ me at present. I went so far as to offer my services gratis,
but the offer was gracefully rejected. I had been so deeply worried that
I had failed to notice the lack of attention and invitations from my
old circle of friends, which had gradually narrowed down to a handful,
compared to former days. Finally I thought as a last resort and an
excuse for remaining on earth, I would apply for a position on the stage.
I had no trouble in securing what I thought was a very good contract. I
made my debut at the Masonic Temple and had the newspapers let me alone,
all would have gone well, but it appeared to be their duty to take up my
thread of existence from childhood and around me they wove a romantic
story. They told how one man had so lost his head over me that he became
an embezzler; how the publicity had caused my father to fill a suicide’s
grave, and how I had been a social favorite until this trouble came,
etc. I suppose they meant it kindly, for the article closed by assuring
the public that my smiles were as winsome as ever and my voice as sweet,
and no doubt but that the Temple Garden would have the honor of having
more real society people in attendance during my engagement, than any
other place of amusement in the city. And they were there like curiosity
seekers at a funeral. When the hour came for my second appearance (the
matinee), every seat was taken and the “Standing Room Only” card had been
put up an hour before the curtain raised. My number came; I went onto
the stage and proceeded to disappoint my former friends by being seized
with stage fright, and instead of singing, I stood in dumb consternation.
Again and again the orchestra repeated the introduction; again and again
did the director give me my cue. I heard nothing. I could see in the
distance fans and handkerchiefs waving in the air. I saw a hundred pair
of hands extended, and brought quickly together, but heard no clapping
sound. I saw the many gorgeous flowers that were tossed upon the stage
in massive bouquets. I saw the footlights as they seemed to grow more
dazzling and then recede to a glimmering yellow flame, then I saw⸺.
“When I revived the manager was furious. They said I had fainted. I guess
I did. I know a very strange feeling came over me.
“Now I have recited my entire stage career to you. After this experience
my nerves seemed to fail me and I was unfit for anything. I had the
misfortune one day to meet one of my old friends, who happened to be in
the audience when I broke down. We had a long talk over our lunch which
lasted from two till five o’clock. He was so sorry for me, and said the
thing I needed was travel. I felt myself as if something was needed.
He proposed to assist me financially, and insisted on my going to Mt.
Clemmens to take a course of sulphur baths. I really felt that it would
benefit me, and hoped it would refit me for some sort of service by which
I might earn a living. I accepted the proffered aid and left Chicago to
seek health and strength. I spent seven weeks at the baths, and was so
much improved that I felt that life was again worth living. At the end
of that time my benefactor came to me. He told me two things and one was
that he had seen Leslie in Chicago; that since the forfeiture of his
bond he had decided to return here and had married his former employer’s
daughter, Emily. The other thing he told me was that he was just starting
for a year’s sojourn in Europe and wished me to join him. I did not know
what it meant, but he plainly told me that I would be expected to travel
as his wife. His request had a crushing effect on me. I could see why he
had entertained so much sympathy for me in my days of trouble.