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
“He gradually became reasonable and we talked matters over in general,
he finally drawing out of me that it was his son whom I had looked upon
as my husband. He satisfied himself as to my purity, otherwise, then
made a confession. It was he who had caused Edmund to be spirited away
to Europe. Edmund had endeavored to correspond with me, directing his
letters to the name that we were making temporary use of, but his father
had intercepted them, thinking that the boy had fallen into the hands
of some very bad woman who would eventually ruin his life. It was he,
of course, who answered my advertisement, but to make amends for his
mistakes, he made me the proposition that I should have a good home, go
to school, take music, and in fact qualify myself in every possible way,
during the two years following, all at his expense. At the end of the
two years he promised that if I had been good and true Edmund should come
back from Europe and marry me. And the two years will be up in just three
weeks, and I am so happy.”
“You were telling your fortune when I came in; will you tell me what you
wished?”
“Oh, sure! I wished Edmund would come back before the three weeks are up.”
“You said you were rich.”
“Yes, you see, Grandma died and left me all the money my mother has been
kept out of all this time, but don’t tell that, will you? For I want to
know for sure that Edmund loves me for just me.”
As the writer arose to leave, a messenger boy brought in a strange
looking envelope and after being convinced that he was talking to Leonore
Marks, he handed the envelope to her, saying, “Cablegram for you.”
It read, “Home in ten days. Be ready to be married.
EDMUND.”
“Now, you see, the cards were right. I shall get my wish.”
As the writer left Miss Marks, in her joyous delight, was administering
such caresses to the silk poodle that he half wished he too were a little
white dog.
TALE SIX.
A DAUGHTER OF PROUD KENTUCKY.
“One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder’s as near to lust, as flame to smoke.”
In response to a vigorous rap, I was admitted to a scantily furnished but
clean apartment, the warmth and glow of which made a pleasant contrast
to the drizzling rain, the rows of flickering gas lamps, and the sloppy
streets that I had been plodding through for several moments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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