Capital punishment -- Fiction; Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Criminals -- Fiction; Prisoners -- Fiction
“Of course I hadn’t any money so I went to jail, but in a day or two she
went to the judge and cried and told him I was all right when I wasn’t
drunk and she got me out. I never thought that judge done right to
lecture me the way he did. I don’t think that strikin’ your wife is as
bad as strikin’ your child, and still ‘most everybody does that. Most
women can defend themselves but a little child can’t do anything. Still,
of course, I don’t defend strikin’ your wife, only one word kind of
brings on another and it sounds different in the newspaper from what it
really is.
“Well, after I got home from the jail we talked it over together and
made up our minds we’d better part. Things had gone so bad with us that
we thought it wa’n’t worth while to try any more and mebbe we’d both be
better off alone. She was real sensible about it and was goin’ to keep
the boy. I promised to give ‘em half my wages and was to see him
whenever I wanted to.
“When we got our minds made up we went to see about a lawyer. She’d been
goin’ over to the Settlement a good deal for advice and they’d been good
to us but they didn’t like me; they blamed me for ever’thing that
happened, and of course them settlement ladies wa’n’t none of ‘em
married and they couldn’t understand how a feller would drink or fight
with his wife. They didn’t know what allowance a woman has to make for a
man, same as a man does for a woman—only a different kind. When she told
‘em what we were goin’ to do they all said, ‘No, you mustn’t do that.
You must make the best of it and stay together’; they said that even if
I promised to give her half my money I never would do it, but would go
off and she’d never see me again. If they knew anything about what I
thought of the boy they wouldn’t have said it. Then they said it would
be a disgrace and that it would disgrace the child. I wish now we’d done
it anyway. It would have been better for the child than it is now. Then
she went to see the priest. We were both born Catholics, although we
hadn’t paid much attention to it. That was the reason we went to St. Joe
to get married. The priest told her that she mustn’t get a divorce, that
divorces wa’n’t allowed except on scriptural grounds. Of course we
couldn’t get it on them grounds. There never was nothin’ wrong with her—
I’ll always say that—and as for me I don’t think she ever suspected
anything of that kind. Even if I had wanted to I never had any money,
and besides I’ve had to work too hard all my life for anything like
that. Then when I went to the lawyer he said it would cost fifty
dollars, but I hadn’t any fifty dollars. So we made up our minds to try
it again. I don’t see, though, why they charge fifty dollars. If a
divorce is right a man ought not to have it just because he’s got fifty
dollars when a poor man can’t get it at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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