I'm a respectable woman, my
husband is a driver. I have three children. It's disgrace enough to
have the likes of her in the family. If you'll give her another
chance I'll take her home with me; my husband is here and he's
willing." The accused looks down piteously.
"Discharged on probation," says the judge, and the family go out.
"That's the third time that's happened to her," whispers a clerk.
"Every time the sister comes up like a good one."
A horrible old woman with straggling gray hair, shrivelled neck, and
claw-like hands grasps a black shawl about her flat chest. "Mary,"
says the judge, "thirty days on the island for you."
"Oh, your Honor, your Honor, not the workhouse. Oh, God, not the
workhouse," and she is borne out screaming and fighting and invoking
Christ to her aid. The judge turns and says in explanation, "an old
case, an example of what they all may come to."
A dark-haired little French woman is brought in with crimson lips,
bold black eyes, and expressive hands. A detective testifies that he
went with her into a tenement house on Seventeenth Street west of
Sixth Avenue. Charge: Violation of the Tenement House Law.
"Qu'importe," says the woman.
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