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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 29, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 14',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
THE TERRIBLE COLLISION CONFESSION 193
(Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper
Dear, dear little book. You seem
like an old, old friend who had been
away in a far country.
Here in my hospital bed I have
been looking you over and I have
laughed and cried as I turned your
pages and the days of my married
life have again unfolded themselves
It is a queer kind of a sensation to
go quickly into the land of nowhere
and then wake up in the land of pain.
I took the train from Eliene's on
Thursday morning and intended to
stop off Friday at Kitty's for a day
while on my way home to meet Dick
Kitty and Herbert finally did -not
have their honeymoon trip as there
was a strike declared in the shirt
waist shops and a great many of Her
bert's settlement members were
among those who "went out."
I left Eliene happy as possible with
her babies and she assured me that
she would return in the fall to hei
"And Harry?" I said.
"Don't ask me, dear," she answer
ed, "for I don't know; I am only liv
ing from day to day trying to be
happy from hour to hour."
I got on the train and my thoughts
ran ahead to the time when I should
see Dick. ftDear, dear Dick, who has
been so patient and sweet to me all
through these weary weeks of pain I
have been spending here.
Just about a couple of hundred
mUes away from Kitty's Mr. Sanders
got on the train, much to my surprise
and pleasure, for the ride had been
dusty, hot and uncomfortable.
He, too, was surprised to see me
and dropped into the chair behind me
with the flattering remark:
"Pate is sometimes kind to sinful
Poor man! He little knew how
quickly he would have to change his
mind on the kindness of Fate.
We chatted on commonplace sub
jects until "last call for dinner."
At dinner the conversation became
more serious and we began to dis
cuss the recent unpopularity of fem
inism. "You are not a suffraget?" affirm
ed rather than asked Mr. Sanders.
"I certainly am!" I answered em
phatically. "Will you tell me why you are
one?" he queried with a somewhat
quizzical smile as though he knew I
would answer: "Just because."
"Well, I believe in votes for women
only as one of the things which will
bring,bout the real freedom and self
respect of women and I want to help
bring that self-respect, self-reliance
and independence to my sex because
I anr a yery conceited woman per
haps I want my brain to receive the
first attention of a man, not my beau
ty or lack of it.
"Men, Mr. Sanders, are always
talking of the spirituality of women
but they give their attention to the
"Up to date it is the beautiful body
that men have adored in woman."
"Oh, Mrs. Waverly!" Mr. Sanders
began, much shocked.
"You are big enough to face the
truth," I interrupted. "Look about
you. Do your friends marry the
sweet spiritual girl who 'is ugly in
face and figure?
"Which girl makes the best mar
riage! The girl who is a splendid
housekeeper or the one who can
dance the new dances divinely?
"The beauty choruses of the musi
cal comedies have "furnished nearly a
fourth of the wives of the present
English aristocracy and more of
America's rich young sons will be
found at the stage doors of our city
theaters than knocking at the por-