This finally, through some jealous busybody, was called to the attention of Postmaster General Basil Paunch and that official personally came up from Washington to investigate. At his first sight of Hugga, he forgot all about the business that had brought him and fell violently in love. His love was returned and one day I stumbled upon the ungainly pair playing “Nine Men’s Morris” at the municipal filling station. To avoid a scene, I ordered Paunch to visit me at my office and when I met him there, we had quite a talk.
He told me it got awfully hot in Washington in the summer months, but the springs and falls were lovely and the winters much milder than in New York. The principal streets, he said, were named after states or letters of the alphabet.52
I started my divorce suit in Sullivan County, but my wife asked for a change of venue as the doctor said it would do her good. Neither of us had ever been to Chicago for a really long stay, so we chose the Crescent City for the scene of action. We found it much the same as New York except that the citizens carried muskets instead of canes. State Street had just been provided with a blazing new system of lights as a result of complaints of machine gunners that because of poor visibility, hundreds of harmless matricides had been mistaken for bystanders and shot down or up.
On the day preceding the opening of the case, forty-six special trainloads of corespondents reached the city. In the forenoon they were received by the then Mayor, Gifford Pelk, and given the keys to their trunks, which had been opened by mistake. A tour of the Stockyards and breweries took up the balance of the day, and then came the problem of sleeping accommodations. Even with cots lining all the halls, the hotels were unable to take care of the corespondents named either by Hugga or me and a panic was averted only by a great idea born in the brain of a well-known newspaper man, James Crusinberry.
“First,” he said, “get everybody to bed that has a bed. Then assemble the leftovers and tell them to take a walk around the block. Thus they will all be provided with a lodging.”
“Where?” inquired a man with a pointed beard.
“In the Morgue,” replied Mr. Crusinberry.
“One time,” put in another stranger, “we had a case somewhat similar to this in my hometown, Cincinnati. There were so many corespondents that the hotels could not accommodate half of them. So a committee of citizens went to the outskirts of town and put up tents for the overflow. They called it the Tent City.”
“That wouldn’t do here,” said a man whose name turned out to be Frank Bering.
“Why not?” asked the stranger.
“Because,” said Mr. Bering, “Chicago is the Second City, not the Tent.”
XXIV
My Divorce Trial
The day of my divorce hearing dawned bright and clear. By the time court opened, it was just right for the spectators, but a little warm for the litigants. The vast crowd was on hand early and appeared highly entertained at the antics of the rival bands. The twelve thousand corespondents named by me made a tremendous hit when they marched into the courtroom, stopped and formed a C and pointing at my wife, sang their alma mater, “Yes Sir,” That’s! My Baby!
Hugga and I were called to the centre of the room, where we first shook hands and then cut for positions. Hugga cut the high card and chose to sit near the west window, where there was a slight breeze. The officials were Judge Ogle, Attorney Dumb for me, the plaintiff, and Attorney Wheedle for Hugga, the defendant.53
A transcript of the testimony will best show what a raw deal I got. The only witness was Clena Sheets, a chambermaid in the Baldwin Hotel at Curve, Tenn.
Direct examination by Attorney Dumb:
Q. Did you ever see this defendant? A. Yes.
Q. Where? A. Who?
Q. This defendant. A. I seen her at the Baldwin Hotel, in Curve.
Q. Who? A. This defendant.
Q. Was she alone? A. Why, I suppose so. I don’t think they ever was a time when we had more than one guest.
Q. Did you know she was married? A. I know she wasn’t. She had a single room.
Q. What was the number of her room? A 502.
Cross examination by Attorney Wheedle:
Q. Miss Sheets, how is it that you remember the number of this defendant’s room? A. I remember it because it’s the only room in the hotel.
Q. If there is only one room, in the hotel, why is it numbered 502? A. That’s his favorite number.
Q. Who? A. Jack Downey, who runs the hotel.
Re-direct examination by Attorney Dumb:
Q. Miss Sheets, you are under oath and you will find it to your advantage to tell the truth. Kindly give the honest reason why the only room in your hotel is numbered 502. A. All the other rooms were burned up in the big fire.
Q. Leaving only Room 502 standing? A. That’s right.
Q. Was Room 502 on the fifth floor? A. Where and the he‑ll do you think it would be? (Laughter.)
Q. And were the office floor and the mezzanine and all the rooms below, above and on the same floor as 502 destroyed by the fire? A. Yes. (Catcalls.)
Q. And Room 502 alone was unscathed. How do you account for that? A. I have nothing to do with the accounting. That is attended
