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MORTON vs. CARRIE BUTCHER
Source: Weekly Argus News, Jan 7, 1893 p 2
Morton L. Butcher, the Waveland news dealer, has brought suit of divorce against his wife, Carrie Butcher. They were married in 1884 and lived together until 1889, when without apparent reason Carrie packed her trunk and betook herself hence never to return. Morton asks for a decree in the case and custody of their young son, Joseph Butcher.
Source: Weekly Argus News, Feb 18, 1893
Judge Harney has just received another choice assortment of divore diplomas with all the latest fringe and frils and of all colors, sizes and varieties. This morning he had a couple of customers in the persons of Mort BUtcher and Mrs. Jerush Brown, who stolled in just to look, but were so highly pleased that each took one and departed in the very best of humor. The first applicant was Mort, the Waveland butcher," as he had been styled because he handles the papers and magazines and deals out news to thirsty seekers after knowledge in his thriving village. As he leaned over the county admirning the stock, he casually explained that Carrie, his wife, had vacated without sufficient provocation, whereupon the judge selected a pretty blue document, which granted him an absolute divorce, the care and custody of his son, Joseph, together with the restoration his maiden name (sic) and right and presented the same to Mr Mort who was duly thanksful and beamed approvingly on his benefactor.
The next visitor was Mrs. Jerusha Brown, a stout lady, who has lived all alone since Jim her husband pulled up stakes and quit his claim in 1883. Just what the trouble was Jerusha could hardly hardly determine but reckons that Jamie "got groucfhy" because she chided him one night for coming home in a condition bordering on glorious. At all evens he betook himself hence leaving her to get out and hustle for a living. The loafers could scarcely conceal their sorrowing sympathy as Jerusha recited her pathetic tale of woe and rejoiced inwardly when the judge who had thawed perceptably during the recital took up one of the lovelist diplomas in the lot, a delicate crimson, bordering on red, which just matched her hair and with courtly grace bade her depart as free as the air she breathed. - kbz
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