University of Nebraska College of Law - Yearbook (Lincoln, NE)

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'fSay, you de lawyer ? Yes, I'm a lawyer. Vlfhat do you want P Y'ere's a letter what de lady sent. She said it was fer de lawyer. VVhen he had gone, I turned the note over with trembling fingers. It was from my client. After a moment I opened it. My dear Mr. -2 it ran, I do hope this reaches you in time before you file those d1'c'aa'fuZ divorce papers. My dear hus- band has returned, and it has all been a terrible mistake. I-Ie took very ill while away and could not write me, and he was nearly heart-broken when told what a dreadful, awful thing I had thought of him. And to think that I was really going to get a divorce! Is n't it dreadful? I am so very happy, and my husband has for- given everything. I do hope you will tell the judge that I do not want a divorce at all, and ask him to give those terrible papers back. I am sorry I have caused you so much trouble and I enclose a check for your wry kind services. Believe me, Mr. 1, UYours very gratefully, I read the note to the end without faltering, once, twice, then I picked up the check which had fallen to the floor. It was for an amount double what I would have thought of asking. A moment later, letter and check were tiny scraps of paper in the bottom of my waste basket. That night I threw the volume on f'The Reveries of a Bachelor into the fire, and watched it burn with a sort of grim satisfaction. I believe my experiences with divorces are limited to my first case. M. C. if 51 , x X - V r 1 I' I3 i l, xl. N, if 'ii 1 -- ' J E ,Q ll iz .A ll' I fi r f' i Mme?- 114

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After each interview with my client, I found it more and more difficult to put from my thoughts the picture of her pensive face, saddened by trouble, but so patiently brave. Law books, with their pages of monotonous court opinions and decisions, would have be- come wearisome to me had it not been that my whole energy was directed to the winning of this, my first case. As it was, the oppo- site wall of my cubbyhole received a great share of my attention, and one night I hunted up a little old volume of The Reveries of a Bachelor that I had long ago discarded as not worth the trouble of reading. Up to the day of the trial, the defendant in the case had not been located, and my client had received no word from him. That it was a case of desertion pure and simple, I did not doubt for a moment, and I swore an oath against the man who would wilfully treat a good and beautiful woman in such a cowardly manner. I worked late the night before the trial, getting my facts to- gether into what I considered a powerful argument-please remem- ber it was my first case-and the next morning was early at my office. I was very much excited, the fact is, I had scarcely slept the night before, and was all aquiver with anticipation, for I was confident of success. I reached my office at half-past seven, and sat down to wait for my client, who was to come at nine-thirty. After staring at the opposite wall for fifteen minutes, and tiring of this, I jumped up and tried walking about my eight by ten cubbyhole. This was a bit exciting because of gigantic proportions of my desk, and the other furniture which nearly filled the room, and occupied my mind for probably half an hour. Then I took to drumming on the Window pane. Finding this uneventful, I pulled out my books and settled down to Bishop on marriage, divorce and separation. After ten minutes of gazing at meaningless words, the wall again received my attention. At nine-thirty my client had not arrived. I then got my papers in readiness, strolled over to the window and began another tattoo, with variations. 'Nine forty-five, and yet no client, At ten o'clock I was pacing about eight square feet of room like a caged tiger. -At ten-fifteen I could stand it no longer, and had decided to start for the court without her, or look her up personally, for I feared she was ill, when there was a rap at the door. e My heart leaped. I cried, Come in ! the door opened, and a scrub of a boy thrust his head in. 113

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