davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
Presently There Came
That Second Wonder

So began to write, began to
live. And presently there came
that second wonder which was to
change everything for me-shat-
ter my life, drag my name
through the mud, and finally
break my heart beyond healing
but which, nevertheless, was to
be an enduring glory and com.
fort.
I was going to have a baby!
Iittle son. little someone
back to me. steady my hand;
ease for a little, the endless
gnawing pain. so I may tell
them what you meant to meD
My baby was not to come for
love. Love in Puritan New Eng
land was a wanton thing. There
must be grave reasons before
erring mortalS assumed the grim
responsibility of becoming par
ents. There were grave reasons.
The doctor bluntly said that I
would go mad unless I had a
child. Insane wives are no treat,
even to people with a yen for
crosses. They are also a great
expense. Sol was permitted TO
have q baby.
Going to have a baby. What
does "going to have baby" mean
to an inexperienced girl? Such
tons of tommyrot have been writ,
ten on that subject. Poetic COO
ings and buildings about the
ecstasies of motherhood. Until
finally mothers and their job
have acquired a synthetic sane
tity utterly divorced from reality
"a fictitious Importance which,
all too frequently, makes ruthless
racketeers of what otherwise
would be honest females.
At 20. became a mother.
And if ever motherhood brought
ecsaSy-as well as plenty else
to a woman, it brought 1t to me
There are no words to tell you
of the love I bore my boy. And
by tragic circumstance, we were
to suffer greatly together and ]
was to make unusual sacrifice
for him. But-just because
motherhood was the greatest ad
venture in my life and because
I firmly believe it to be that fol
any normal woman-I am de
termined to tell the truth about
it. And the truth about mother
hood is no sonnet.
For before she was a mother
a woman Is a woman. And after
she Is a mother, she remains q
woman. The birth pangs do not
transform her into a sanity ny
brid, mixture Of archangel ano
mortal. They do not miraculouslJ
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
Elsie Buys a
Cheap Pad of Paper

One day I began to laugh, wild,
gagging laughter, and I ran
through the empty rooms calling
my father. When the mist lifted,
I was crouched under the dining.
room table asking my dead
brother to take me away.
The next day I bought a cheap
pad Of paper. I wrote down the
things thought-the things I
would have said to somebody If
there had been anyone to listen.
I wrote down words so I would
remember them. After I had
written them, I would say them
aloud. And I began to under.
words are; what strange strength
and release lies in them. had
always written and read, but
never before had I realized what
words could do to life. How, by
stand then what remarkable things
arranging them one way. one
could arouse laughter. And by
arranging them in another. one
could bring tears.
But-and here was a mystery
one could not arouse real laughter
or real tears unless one had
first felt these things oneself.
Words were powerful, but the
thing that gave them power was
the life behind them-the expert.
ence that preceded them.
CHAPTER XXI
Writing was helpful to you
or the other fellow only to the
extent that it passed on life.
If it didn't pass on life, it was
meaningless.
So, out Of my own desperate
need Of life, began to write.
with never a thought beyond the
filling of the page. Setting down
the words, holding to them as I
set them down, as a drowning
man might clutch a crumbling
raft. Would they, could they,
see me through? They could.
They have.
had Wanted Out. Always I
had wanted out. Yet whenever
I had tried to find a door
when had taken some great
risk, like marriage, in order to
find the door, had failed.
There had been no door. Then,
suddenly, in some unexpected
place the door would open! AS
it did now, in writing.
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

Life is like that for all of us.
II you can only hold on long
enough, there's always a door.
So I began to write, putting
down my thoughts, seeing how
trivial they were when they were
once set down. Thinking deeper
thoughts, reaching out further,
asking questions, gaining courage
from the asking. Gradually grow.
ing brave enough to grasp that
wild, undisciplined ignorant young
creature which was I myself and
take her apart bit by bit, seeing,
as I did so. that she was not
shut away from life, as I had
thought, but was indeed part Of
all life.
That any life was part Of all
life.
That any person was part Of
all people.
That you didn't have to travel
or perform great feats to know
life-you were life. In your own
self. you could find all the rea-
sons, all the answers. if you had
the courage to look for them.
Presently There Came
That Second Wonder
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

Once, when I had reached the
doddering-dowage age Of %, my
disguised mother sent me a suit
of rose flannel. I loved that suit!
whooped over it, cried over it,
put it on and turned cart wheels
in 1t-told them all to go to the
devil, I'd wear it anyway. But
the suit disappeared. I still sus-
pect foul play.
A dreadful existence. All the
more dreadful because. in the
outer world, life was sweeping on
ward in a fierce tide, crashing
over the old walls. Vaguely I
heard the clamor, glimpsed the
glitter, felt the call-but was
powerleSs to act.
d, That seems incredible to you
modern brides, doesn't it? You'd
have told him to go to hell,
walked out, got a job, come
home"-yes? Then why didn't
I? Because, my dear, three
thousand miles it a long walk
home. And what was I to do
after I got there?
Everything was "a long walk
for women in 1903-with no par.
ticular destination. Easy enough
for 1884 Flossie to flounce out of
her husbands house and go get
her old job back. But just try
and do it in 1908! Men held the
purses. Men held the jobs. Women
had few rights, and wives could
be legally beaten; could be thrown
out penniless if they refused any
of a husbands rights" It was
a Mans World and nothing else
but. And if a rebellious young
wife didn't like her married
status, she could lump it.
Why were there so few divorces?
Why did Joan stick by Darby to
the grave? That was why. It was
not, as the sentimentalists would
have us believe, because wedlock
was holier and women more low
ing and loyal than they are to.
day. It was because marriage
was q one-Way alley with no exits
for women.
So there I was and there
stayed. One year, two, four, five,
ten. Years that were always the
same. went nowhere. I met
no one. Like silent rain, the day.
and weeks and months ran to.
gether in the gray blur. Yet two
great things happened to me dur.
ing that time.
The first was the beginning OF
writing.
I am always intrigued when ]
hear writer's telling how they go
that way. According to most OF
them, Art kept nagging at then
until they just had to do some
- thing about 1t. Well, If it take
that to make a writer, then I was
" disqualified at the start. For
-, knew nothing about Art and cared
less. I started writing for exactly
the same reason that starving
man starts eating-to save my
life.
-" The silence was driving me
mad. I had come from a land Of
continuous fiesta. Now there were
weeks, months, when I hardly
O. heard the sound of a human voice
True, I lived in closely settled
>" village street. There were people
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

Even color, fragrance, the pleas
ant fripperies Of life-these, too,
were sins. From the time I was
20 until I was 80, I wore only
gray chambray for week days,
black taffeta or wool for Sundays.
Gray and white were permissible.
Dark blue was conceded. And in
the sanctity Of the Lawful Bed.
room, one might even indulge in
an orgy Of lavender flannel, pro-
vided 1t buttoned snugly to the
neck. But beyond that, one in
Vited the powers Of darkness.
I never had a marcel, a mani.
cure, a box Of face powder, a bot
tie Of perfume, a finger ring, silk
stockings or a sleeveless night.
gown until I was IS. Yet, not
Withstanding- however-nevertheless.
and-in-spite-o f-these-facts, girls, I
somehow managed to get along.
Hears Call But
Is Powerless
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
He Was Doomed
From the Start

Screaming hour after hour-one
day? two?-it didn't matter. Time
had stopped; space had vanished:
there were no hours, no walls, no
people. Only the screaming, go
ing on and on in the darkness.
Then, suddenly, silence. And
in the silence. a tiny, bleating
cry!
He had come! My little boy
had come!
There was snow on the ground
when my son was born; 1t has
never gone away again-for me.
For he was i'll; was always to be
ill, with a bronchial trouble
which Sapped his strength faster
than I could build it up. There
could be no hope-but I did hope!
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
NOW READ ON

There escapes The Puritan blight lay ALSO all
the other exits Even that handcaft which had once been
safety valve for had lost its healing power with the
ing Of machines.
Then work out how about play7 HOrrors Even the
dumbet child knew that play the devils chance Besides
play wasted time Times sacred and you mustn't
waste it.
Laughter with the exception Dry Smile was under
picion For laughter meant Being Glad And what right had
to be glad when you should have been wrestling terror
and remorse for the salvation Of your immortal soul?
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

That Is the low-down on
mothers. And therein lies their
greatest glory. Infinitely greater
than the sentimental tripe which
is written concerning them-that,
against the constant clamor OF
their own laziness, WEAKNESS,
selfishness and conceit, they give
their lives to love.
Going to have baby-what
did 4 mean to me? It meant eX.
actly what any new and danger
GUS adventure means to any ig'
norant, high-spirited human be-
ing. EagerneSs, curiosity, excite
ment, tenderness, alternating with
Ions intervals of rage, disgust, re-
bellior. boredoom-and a little
girls terror. I knew 1 was going
to die I knew it! Yet at the
same time I saw myself walking
proudly beside my son, down the
laughing streets of California.
Always that secret homesick
whlmper for the land had left
Through lonely days, lonelier
nigt.rS. that was the one picture !
saw-the wide blue bay, the wild
bright sky, the tangled gardens Of
my dear lost land. Drudging
through household chores, gazing
into empty streets? I talked to
the birds, to the roses, to the very
air I had left behind.
For to what else could I talk?
Where else could go-save down
the tear-stained lanes of my own
memories? Life that had been
narrow and silent enough before,
now closed around me in a VERT
able Black Hole. For was go
in.g to have a baby. And this
was 1904. So I mustn't go out
I mustn't be seen. I mustn't talk
about it. It wasn't nice for
women who were going to have
babies to be seen or even to dis
cuss their condition"
After the third month I could
not attend even the quietest lee
ture. I could not take exercise
save furtively, after dark. I was
months pregnant before I told
my husband the fact-hesitat
inglv, flinching against his cold
ness He was courteous. But we
did not speak of the subject again
for many weeks.
Idiotic - unhealthy - morbid!
Yes, AL of these-and more. But
not unusual. For this was Puri
tan America in the old regime
and I had married a Puritan
Nor, III all fairness let me state
was this condition confined tc
Vermont. Throughout America
Nice People of the old school felt
much the same way about ex
pectant motherhood. Incredible
as tn, fact now seems, the aver
age mother Of the voter of today
faced her first childbirth without
the slightest knowledge Of what
such. an event implied.
She knew she would go through
great pain-face death. But OF
what was to be accomplished by
that pain - what physiological
phenomena were involved, she had
no idea. AS a consequence, in my
case, I changed during pregnancy
from a healthy active girl to q
Semi.invalid, goaded by loneliness
and fear to the verge of melan
choly insanity.
How did my husband feel about
it all? do not know. There was
such a terror Of life upon him thai
suspect he hardly dared feel al
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
The Rest Was
All a Mistake

Looking back, I can only won.
der. Vaguely I see his face. It
was a fine face, sensitive beneath
it's grimness. Surely sometimes his
heart sang-but he did not let me
hear,it.
Yet there were touches Of Joy,
sweet and swift as the flash of a
birds wing. remember he made
little cradle. I stood watching
him. He was working on the
kitchen table. It was very still in
the kitchen with that hot, secured
smell which old kitchens have. ]
stood leaning against the door.
wanted to rush to him-to dance
and laugh and shout. But though
his hand moved gently over the
wood, his eyes were closed doors.
Still, you made that little cradle
c. B. c. I can forget-much-
when I remember that. Perhaps
when it is all over and we have
made. our new start in another
woodland you have learned how
to talk and I have learned how to
be Still-we shall find that that
was all that really mattered; that
your hands and my heart held a
song. The rest was all mistake
CHAPTER XII
And there were other hours.
remember sitting in the deep
grass, making a little flannel
jacket with green feather stitch.
ing" along the seams. There was
small, twisted, cherry tree be
side me. Suddenly there came a
furry. There, on the white
wreath of blossoms, swung a
scarlet tanager, against a June
sky! I laughed; then flung my
self on the grassland cried and
cried for my mother.
Some hours of June. But there
was snow on the ground when hi
came. I remember walking. {. .
walking. . back and forth across
the small room, with a little fat
futile woman fussing by my side;
flinging myself furiously back and
forth, watching the snowflakes
flatten and melt against the glass
Going faster. faster. with some
sick. tangled idea of outracing the
pain. Pan ing.. pushing the
fussy little woman away.
And the pain coming nearer
nearer, growing greater, greater
until presently it wasn't I who
was walking. The pain was walk
ing-swinging back and forth
back and forth-like a great
pendulum. And was spiked
to the pain, swinging with the
pain.
Then, vaguely, heard someone
far off-screaming, screaming.
He Was Doomed
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

all around me. But they were
New England people. They rarely
talked, even to one another. They
seldom visited. In those first two
desperate years, not a dozen Of
them knocked at my door. AS for
my husband, he lapsed into
silences lasting weeks at a time.
Day after day, day after day,
With only the whine Of the snow
or the whispering Of the leaves to
break the solitude.
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

I would not accept it! Furious
I flung myself against the pos
Sibility. Night and day, year
after year, I prayed, adored
raved.
How some modern mothers,
reading this record, will sniff at
such carryings-on! They will be
right. Emotionalism is as bad
for q sickly child as actual poi
son. This 1 know now, and if he
could come back to me, I would
be wiser. But we knew so little
then, we unframed girls nodded
by an age in which mother wis
dom was supposed to be a mi
raculouS requirement.
Absurd? Perhaps to you, but
not to us who had to watch our
babies die through an ignorance
which was still held to be divine.
ly ordained.
An incredible picture, yet how
much have we improved it in
these 80 years? In other depart.
ments of our life we have raced
ahead three hundred, thre e
thousand, years during that time.
But in the training Of mothers
and the care of children, we have
progressed little beyond our great
great-grandmotherS' day.
Unless she has a rarely wise
mother, one in a million-or un-
less she has sowed wild oats
how much does the average girl
know about marriage when she
enters it?
Her husband may be diseased,
she may carry the seeds of death
in her own self, yet, with never
a misgiving, they procee d to
establish a family. We speak OF
"holy wedlock." Wedlock should
be the hottest thing in human
life, but in actual practice we
treat it as the b aseSt. tt e
plumbers union demands more
technical preparation from a n
apprentice, the police department
demands higher physical fitness
from an applicant, than society
d m ands from the men and
women who make its homes and
bear it's children!
That Lonely,
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
Then She Began
To Change, Too

It would mean hardship, loneli,
ness-but glorious adventure, free
dom and health for the boy! I
was wild to go. My husband mus
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
4 nat Lonely,
Desperate Battle

From pulpit and press we
thunder against those forces
which are undermining the fam
lily" Yet what has society
which so extensively protects pigs
and peach trees with Federal
laws and fundS-done to protect
the lives of its mothers and chill
dren? The world knows the an
swer: America has the highest
death rate of mothers and babies
in childbirth of any civilized ma
ton on earth.
Black paragraphs to insert in
what should be a radiant chapter
of young motherhood. But for
millions of other desperate women,
as for me, motherhood is robbed
of its radiance by grim and con-
slant struggle against death.
Those bittersweet years! That
lonely, desperate battle to hold a
priceless gift. Why lonely? MY
husband. . / want to be fair. He
loved his boy. I am sure he tried
to save him: tried to make those
years happier, more normal for us
all. And he should not be blamed
zoo bitterly for his failure. The
noblest impulses of his life-love
of God and kin-had been per-
verted by the decadent PuritanisH1
in which he was born. Gods
wrath; the demands Of a devoted
but dominant mother-their serv-
ice left him no chance to be him
self, much less to be a good hus,
band and father.
The boy could, perhaps, be
healed in a kindlier climate. We
might at last make a home for
ourselves. A chance was offered
my husband to go West-survey-
ing work in the Sierra Nevada
wilderness, where my brother Paul
was building a power dam.
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

all. Since he was a child, emo
tion-outSide Of religious or filial
eXpressions-had been branded as
a dubious indulgence, probably
shameful, bordering on sin.
What did he think, that pale
slender man Of 80, who came and
went like stranger through the
house which I kept? Was he
happy and proud that at last he
was taking a normal part in
MANTLE? Or was he abashed and
appalled, at the prospect Of any ex-
perience which might disturb the
dusty order Of his shadow world?
The Rest Was
ARe-lI
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
Even Birth of Their Boy
Failed to Unite Elsie
And Husband
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

In The foregoing chapters of her Vivd narrative Elsie
Robinson tells of childhood days in BenicG California;
aOhere life hard and rugged. When girl reached II
she married.
Elsie 1Uated than that She aUnnted to knosV and
feel everything life had to offer; she s0aned Ou So at
9Vo1Ad bring her,
Lack of understanding kept Elsie and her husband apart
They really became Life drudge. Elsie
felt sted chained to her MIXING bowl when the
baker made your breadpaking seem Oaste of effort
She might still be only Missus to her husband but in the
outside 1Oord becoming peopIe! She declares
that NeV England PurtGnism and Intolerance covered
By cloak 1Och they called their Religion "Everythig
you did a sin."
In 1884, Ohen you married and 10, 1t usually
joyous honeymoon, but not in 1908 you married Ne0
England Puritan.
The Washington times., 1935-04-06

have longed for 1t, too. Yet at
the same time, he shuddered at
the thought; hid behind the ex'
cuse that his first duty was to
his family"-family. to the Purt.
tan, always meaning the Ola
Folks, never the newer life.
So he turned 1W1y from IUe,
and IN the misery OF his .trustrG-
ton sought the Inevitable COM
penS1tion: denied life to all
Others. We are all like that. We
reSerDe our btttereSt puntShn1entS
for those Dho do the thing De
long, yet fear, to do.
There was nothing new in the
situation. had watched tat
Illustration and naturalization
since we were married; pityingly
at first, then with growing anger
and contempt. But, having no al
Tentative, I had stood it; expected
always to stand for it. But now,
I began to change. Was 1t the
boys suffering that brought the
change? Or was 1t part Of that
change which was coming to all
womenp For the women Of the
early 1900's particularly the
housewives-were getting ready to
take q new step ahead.
I was getting ready, too. For
what, didn't knoW-but some
thing was firming up in me. For
years I had led a life Of frustra-
ton, empty, aimless, colorless.
At twenty-seven, I was nearly
insane with loneliness, heartache
and resentment. In all my night
mare world there was only one
thing to which I could hold fast:
that talking to myself on.paper
which had been my secret re-
lease since I could first write.
I could not cope with the night
mare around me, but on those
scrawled pages-which I de-
stroyed as soon as they were writ
ten-I tried to translate that
personal confusion into an i'm
personal picture, trying to bring
order out of disorder.
And gradually, though I could
not yet make a plan, I began to
tougher into determination.
Hitherto I had cried. Now the
tears dried. I had been chinless.
Now I developed a chin of which
Dempsey himself could have been
proud. And a temper that was
a honey!
Bam!-away went every pre-
tense Of meekness. Boom-craSh!
China broke; furniture Splintered.
I heaved the washtub down the
back stairs. I pitched the darn
ing into the fire.
NouO They Took
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
Continued Next Saturday

Copyright by Elsie Robinson)
Copyright. 1895, by King Features
Syndicate, Inc.)
The Washington times., 1935-04-06
NoW They Took
Their Revenge

NoW 2hey look
Their Revenge
That quiet cottage under the
New England elms-like many
another quiet cottage Of those
times-became a hell on earth.
I had always-from the Puritan
viewpoint-been queer, brooding
or boisterous creature. apt at any
time to do the strangest things.
Now I did even stranger ones.
Laughed, hard and wild, where
before I had not dared to smile.
Sneered openly where before I
had cringed. Talked to anyone
who would listen; to strange
women and-to men! Walked,
frantic for freedom, anywhere,
everywhere, blind to where 1
went.
But others were not blind, or
dumb. Though perhaps they did
not so express it to themselves,
they had a grievance against me
and a sound one.
My disdain for conventions had
always challenged their habit
ridden lives, violated their most
sacred taboos. Nor must you
think for a moment that I be-
lieve I was always in the right.
If they overlooked the potential
beauty and strength in my de
sign for living" I was quite as
arrogant in overlooking the very
real value in theirs. Now they
took their revenge.
I didn't know what was the
matter with me. But they were
there with the answers. I didn't
know where I was going. They
had the blueprints!
CHAPTER XIII
Have you ever had the evil luck
to see a trapped. sick brute on the
desert and watch the gathering
ghouls? Once I saw such a beast
"a crippled COW and her calf
a small, dark huddle in the glar-
ing immensely of space. Shortly,
high in the white arc of sky, spots
began to appear, grew clearer,
nearer, until the sky was streaked
with their hungry circling. Pres.
emily, there they stood-a dark
ening wall around that doomed
beast.
My boy and I've were that
small, dark huddle. And the
shadows were gathering. I
watched them come. So they
thought I was crazy, did they?
Let them! Let them look; let
them wonder; let them pass from
furtive sneers to foul conjecture
it didn't matter. To hell with
them! I was through with car.
ing! I was through with bear.
ing! I was through with every
thing, everyone.
But they were not through with
me!
Look at her! Didn't we say
she'd come to thiS?" Missed the
whispers, stabbed the eyes. Zone
of those queer WesternerS. See
how she's acting! Won't stay at
home! Goes gadding through the
woods all hours of day and night.
"She talks to men, too! there's
that man who's always at the
house, pretending he's her hus-
bands friend; pretending he's
having her do some illustrations
for his book. Huh! Think
they're smart, don't they? Try.
ing to pull the wool over peoples
eyes. But take my word for 1t,
there's something wrong. She's
up to notwithstanding bad"