The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1867-01-09
McGREG0R, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, JAN. 8, 1867.
"The sooner the better, too"
MY sentiment exactly, madam"
kkTn do.xl:i

''The sooner the better, too"
My sentiment exactly, madam"
"To-day!''
"Why not !''
"Where will you go?'
~? | shan't go. l shall stay here"
But you don't mean to say you're g
ing to turn me out of house and home
never would have believed that of no
George Graham a~g
1T isn't l that's turning you out. You,
turning yourself out. Suppose you sta
you've no money to pay your rent, or ru
the affair. 1t costs something to kee
house, | can tell you. Eve found it O,
by bitter experience"
"But where can l 20? You know
haven't relative left me.''
"You should have thought of that b,
fore you proposed parting. 'Tis not m
business to look you up a home.'
II don't know whose else it is. Yo
might do as much as that for your ow,
wife,"
"For my wife I'd do great deal mere
But you are not my wife any more; onl
the legal tie remains to be severed, an
I'll apply for divorce at once"
And disgrace us both?''
but what can fellow do? Now rv
got used to having home, I want one
and once free from you there are dozens O
girls thatll be glad to take up with me
careless, good-for-nothing scapegrace as
am"
"And a pretty life they'll lead you, too.
ut can't be worse than what you've Ice
me the last six months. Zounds but I've
been fool to bear it so long. Fret, fret
fret, from morning till night. Thank
Heaven, it is all over at last !" and he whist
led gaily.
"You seem glad to be rid of me, sir
You've made ME glad, madam ?''
He put on his overcoat. and drew on his
rubbers, gathered up his hat and gloves
Was he really going, and without his dim.
err?
''When will you be ready to leave mad.
am? iH order carriage at any hour you
name."
"You are an unfeeling wretch, George
Graham; you are, and that S the truth. You
might, for decencys sake, give me until to-
morrow to pack up my things and decide
"You can have week, madam, if YOU
wish. | thought you were in hurry to
go. Yes, you may have a week. Mean
while, III 90 to hotel.''
"And have the whole town talking about
us Why can't you stay at home just as
WELL"
because never like to be in anybody's
way" ...
'But it is your own house, and-and-
if you even had any regard for me, you'd
stay still-till I'm gone" Her voice was
not quite as steady as it had been.
"Well Ill stay then. But not now. I'll
come back toni ght. You needn't sit up
for me, Mrs. Graham. It'll be late when
get in, and-kAl take the spare chamber
till you're gone"
The front door slashed after him in
another moment. He was gone; without
his dinner; gone, and not coming back till,
nobody knew when, and then going up
stairs to sleep alone. They had quarrelcd.
They had as good as parted. They would
hSd E4n lone hcrss Get ANA aaaphF ssss wits
would have to 90 alone into the cold,
dreary world and earn her own dreary
living. She didn't know enough about
divorces, poor thing, to think of alimony,
and all this because he neglected to leave
his "things'' in the hall, and she found
fault with him for the said neglect. Care
less husband. Fidgety wife. And because
he was careless and she idgety, they must
live apart
Mrs. Graham looked about her Just
then. Everything was neat and orderly.
There was nothing to worry her. Moth
ing? There was everything. And she sat
down and cried: yes, cried-she who had
been so resolute and defiant only ten min
utes before. But that resolution, that de-
fance, had been born of anger, and
the anger was all gone now. How
sorry she was, she'd been so cross to him
for she had been cross, real cross, wick
edly cross. What if he had tossed his
things any and every way 1t was
mans trick, and-and-here she sobbcd
outright-he never had a mother to train
him. Poor fellow, he'd been knocked
around from pillow to post all his life, till
he got married, and now he would have to
knock around again, for of course. he
couldn't get married right away; no, he
would have to get housekeeper, and
she'd worry the life out of him; and when
he did get married, could he ever get one
who d love him as she had and did, YES,
did the love was there yet, welling up
and overtiowing.
She went into the kitchen, hardly know
Ing why; driven, perhaps, by the force of
habit. There stood the table laid for dim
er, and SO neatly; the cloth white and in
creases, the plates and glasses shining
brightly, the knives and forks polished to
almost silver whitencss. She gave it one
look and mechanically y.opned the stove oven!
The chicken was browning nicely; George
liked roast chicken better than a friccassee,
SO she had cooked it that way. The pota-
toes and turnips were dancing merry iigs
in the pot, and the tea-kettle was softly hum
ming. The mince pie stood on the hearth,
itself quietly, and cxhaling
spicy odor that was tempting even to
dyspeptic stomach.
"Such nice dinner, and no one to eat
it! l wish-I wish-I-I hadn't been so
cross to him! l began it and kept it up
too he was not cross first; he held out
until made him mad. O, dear l wish
Il do wish it didn't worry me so to see
things lying around. wish he was more
careful, thoughtful-sucha dear, good fell
low as he is about everything else. Never
scolds when bills come in, like Hannah
Benton's husband. Mercy don't know
how she does live with him. And he ALWAYS
giving me change, too l never hardly
have to ask for cent; don't know what
| should do if l had to manage as Carrie
Stanton does to get cent out of Jim. If
had such man, rd-Id leave him, and
work my fingers to the bone to make my
own living. And he wants me to have a
girl and be dressed up all the time, and
read, and practice and 60 out with him.
And there's poor little May Miller that