The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-07-20
THE EVENING STORY
The Chain.
(By Jeanne olive Loizeaux.)

The Chain.
(By Jeanne Olive Loizeaux.)
After she had prepared her hus-
bands early breakfast and, while he
was eating it, packed his dinner
bucket lest he be late at his work,
with her ear alive for the expected
waking wall of Fred, Jr. She hoped
to get the dishes washed, the sitting
room tidied. and other parts of the
work finished before that squirming
replica OF his father should awake
and demand food, bath, dressing,
and more or less attention until his
nap at IL.
She knew what to expect-she was
getting used to the household round.
And i was ironing day. too. A big
basket of dampened clothes awaited
her, and she was still weary from
washing them the day before. For
that matter, she was tired of cooking
ing. Life had after two years of mar
rage begun to be a burden. She
dragged the chain.
But today was the first of her con-
scious realization that she was sick
and tired of it. She loved Fred; he
was kind to her, but was that all?
Life had somehow fallen short of her
expectations. Every morning with
his bucket he went to his carpenter
ing, and when there was a day off by
some improvement on the little cot
tage on which he had just finished
paying the last installment. He had
been five years buying the place
the two afterward. And some day it
would be worth something to speak
of-the city was rapidly building out
that way.
But Mary did not care now. What
she felt was that it was half a mile
from street car, and eight blocks to
the nearest neighbor, and that a truck
patch, though convenient for food,
was not much company.
She began to realize that she was
lonely Now she put both elbows on
the breakfast table. and leaned her
head on her open palms. And in the
mirror on the wall opposite she could
see herself plainly. She was still very
pretty-much prettier than when Fred
had taken her from the store almost
by force just in time to save her from
cough that had an ugly hold upon
| her. They had met at dances, and he
| he'd made love to and married her
in sort of whirlwind of love and
compassion. He had transplanted her
| to his little raw cottage, and made
her at first "putter." and then really
| work, about the garden, until in six
| months she was rosy and, for all her
| half later the boy had come.
Since then her life had been in the
child, and she had not known that
she neglected the man. She did not
love him less, did not fail to keep his
| house and cook his meals, and care
| for his son-but she saw him through
a mist of motherhood. She forgot to
be sometimes only the wife and girl
companion. So he. thinking with
sigh that it was only natural. thank
| ing his lucky stars that she was de-
voted mother left her more to her
self. and gave himself more to his
work.
| He was being rewarded. A month
before he had been made foreman on
a carpentering job. The pay was bet
| ter, the position more responsible.
He still carried his dinner bucket.
still wore the little jaunty cap over
| his dark curls, but his young face had
| set in older lines.
Presently the baby did wake, cooling
and laughing at first, then fretting
| and fussing until he was fed, object
| ing to being washed, struggling when
she tried to dress him. And then he
went to sleep again. and she remem-
| bered what she had been cooking and
found it burned to a crisp.
Then she had to slip away, locking
| the house behind her, and go a half
| to do it, but of late he had seemingly
| forgotten it, and she had done it her
| self without a word. She hated to
leave the baby, but he was Just
She hurried until she was out of
breath. and by the time she was near
| ly home again was sure in her own
| mind that something had happened,
all right. She resolved not to do this
again-Fred would have to do the or
dering-or get her telephone. That
was another grievances phone would
have made her less lonely.
The girl was sensitive about ex-
pense-she had always felt 1t that he
had married her half sick, with moth
ing save the clothes she stood In. She
/ was an orphan, but she had always
/ wished she could have come to her
husband with a trousseau, with linen
for the household, and some bits OF
furniture all her own. He had never
thought of this, but she did. He nat
urally paid all the bills as they came
in, but she had never asked him for
| money. He used to leave her some,
but lately he had not. Her pride kept
her from asking, though she really
needed a number of little things of a
womanly sort.
This was in her mind when she put
the irons on the stove, and flew about
tidying the little house. She was neat
and quick, and nothing took her long
Perhaps this very quickness made hel
a little impatient.
i For the first time the thoughts OF
the baby weighted her. and she wish
ed she was for a little while among
the Laughing, cnaLleIlng, BoSSiPlus
girls in the store. The work there
had never been hard and was poorly
paid. If she had enough to eat she
: could not wear clothes good enough
to hold her position. But she had
company. There was always some one
, to be interested in how she did hel
lovely fair hair. in the set of hel
cheap but stylish waist, and always
| somebody eager to go home with her
or to take her to a dance. Fred would
not take her to the hall dances any
| more He said that was one of the
. | things he married her for-to get hel
out of that crowd. She knew he was
right-but nevertheless
| 1t was along in the afternoon some.
time, after stopping her work to feec
} the baby again and settle him to an.
: ! other nap, that she burned herseli