Law. P. (Kindly.) Well, madame, you want—
Mrs. Hanks. (In a half whisper.) I want, or I guess I want a bill of divorce. (Farmer Hanks’s face pops out again, with an expression of bewilderment and horror upon it.)
Law. P. Your husband is addicted to the excessive use of liquor, maybe? (Farmer H. shakes his fist at the lawyer.)
Mrs. H. Good gracious, no! Samuel never took too much liquor in his life, to my knowledge.
Law. P. Then, perhaps, he is violent, and cruel to you and the children?
Mrs. H. Mercy, no! Whatever made you think of sech a thing! Samuel wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s the softest-hearted man in the world; it isn’t that—it’s only—only—
Law. P. Well, you must try to tell me your difficulty, or I will be unable to help you.
Mrs. H. (Bursting into tears.) It’s so hard to tell, yet it’s so hard to bear. It seems jest as if I’d go wild ef I had it to stand another day. Yet except fer this one thing Samuel’s the best husband a woman could ask fer. He is perfect temperate in all his habits, liberal an’ open-handed as the day is long, an’ as kind an’ considerate as any one could wish fer. (Farmer H. looks out at the lawyer exultingly.) But—but—
Law. P. But what?
Mrs. H. Oh, those dreadful tantrums of his’n! They come on without any apparent reason at all, an’ he’s like to a crazy man.