Twenty tales by twenty women: From real life in ChicagoAnonymous
General
Twenty tales by twenty women: From real life in Chicago
Anonymous
Chicago (Ill.) -- Moral conditions; Prostitution -- Illinois -- Chicago
“At last the land in our section became so valuable for the gas that was
under it that the little forty-acre tract on which my father had been a
tenant so long, was sold to a party of capitalists, and our occupation as
farmers was gone.
“We moved to town, I mean Anderson, Indiana. There my father obtained
work in a factory. All this time my baby was growing from the sphere of
long clothes, into prattling, toddling childhood. Father toiled long and
faithfully day by day; mother and I managed the housework, nor was our
strength taxed, for we had but a five-room cottage, and it seemed a shame
that poor father should work so hard, so many long hours of the day and
we have so much time to spend in idleness. It was decided that I should
seek employment and I obtained a situation as maid in the home of one
of the large factory owners. I had a very pleasant place, and when at
the end of two years, the family decided to remove to Chicago, it was
arranged that I go with them. My mother could easily get along without
me, and she had grown so fond of the baby that she would not hear of my
taking her with me.
“I was soon located in my new home on one of the principal North Side
thoroughfares of the city. All went well until one day the lady of the
house announced that she expected some company from California, and
wished me to be in attendance to them during their stay.
“When the visitors arrived I was at my station in the hall on the second
floor; the hostess greeted them, and in her demonstration of hospitality
showed the lady the suite they were to occupy during their stay. She
rang and I went in to assist in putting away the wraps. The lady was a
sweet young matron, and when she said, ‘Now I must have my baby with me a
little while,’ I could have hugged her.
“‘Yes,’ said the hostess; ‘Virginia, run down and bring the baby up; he
is with his papa in the reception room.’
“Then, with a motherly feeling growing in my breast, I descended the
heavily carpeted stairs, three steps at a time, but even in my flight I
had taken time to fall in love with that baby before I ever set eyes on
it.
“I told the gentleman that I would take the baby up to its mother.
I saw the pallor on his face as I spoke, but when I took my baby’s
half-brother into my arms none of the spectators suspected the truth.”
“Then the man was⸺?”
“Yes, it was my Arthur who had brought his wife and child to visit in the
home where I was a servant, quite accidental, of course, and thanks to my
rugged nature, I did not faint nor in any way betray my feelings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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