grave import

Obituary

A little woman, clad in black, followed to the grave yesterday, the body of the man who was everything in the world to her and whose heart, she says, was stolen from her by another. It was a demonstration of woman's enuring love.
James C. Anderson, salesman of the Barton Motor company, who died suddenly in the Hotel Custer at Galesburg, Ill., last Wednesday night, after he ha started on a pleasure ride with Vee Coontz, pretty 20-year-old stenographer, of 603 Arch street, liked the gay things of life; jazz, dancing and a good time.
But it was a contrasted spirit that existed in the brief services that were conducted at the Burnett-Wallen morturary before his body was lowered into its grave in Aspen Grove cemetery as the shadows lengthened late yesterday afternoon.
His broken widow; his only mourner, only a few of his fellow employes and brother Elks and two or three neighbors were there. Dr. Naboth Osborne read some verses of scripture and said a prayer, and then the body was taken to its final resting place.
Later in the evening, the widow was found at the home of Mrs. Georgia Kurtz, 1715 South Fifteenth street in whose house she and her husband had an apartment before he sent her to Des Moines "to rest her nerves" a little more than a week ago. Before her was the picture of a pretty girl that had been torn into bits and then pieced together and pasted on piece of cardboard. Across the top she had printed: "this girl wrecks homes."
"I had a notion to take it down town," she said "and tack it up on a telephone pole as a warning to other girls."
And then she told a pathetic story of how her wedded happiness had been dissipated and her home broken up. "I went to the girl in the office where she worked," she said, "and pleaded with her to let my husband alone. She said, "I don't see you wearing any wedding ring," and I told her she must not have looked vey hard and showed her my ring. Then she promised she'd never see my husband again. I had no more than left the office than she called him and had him meet her there."I heard talk that he had been out with someone else but I would not believe it until I read in a newspaper that he and she had spent the week end at Brockways near Oakville. After I went to see her, I read it again. Then I went to see her mother, her mother questioned whether i was married and I offered to take her home and show her my marriage certificate.
"I told my husband that I would show here my marriage certificate and prove that I was married and he tore it up. I told him that if her wanted her I would give him a divorce and he said "To hell with a divorce. I don't want her. If you divorce me, I'll kill you."
"Then I got sick and he asked the doctore if he didn't think it would be a good thing if I would go away for a rest and the doctore thought it would. So he sent me to Des Moines but promised me faithfully before I went that he would not see her agin. I received a letter from him the same day he died, telling me not to worry, that he still loved me. When I read in the papers that he was dead, i could not realize it was he until I saw whom he was with."
Mrs. Anderson said she felt sure that ifher husband had not led such a fst life in the last few months, he would not be dead. She told how, night after night, he wold not get in until the early hous of the morning and how on some Sunday mornings he would not get in until 7 o'clock. "Many time," she said, "I would get up and make him a cup of tea."
She broke down and cried on time during the interview. "I loved him," she sobbed. "He was everything in the world to me. We stuck thry so many hardships in Des Moines before we came here. He was sick for six months and I worked and took care of him. We were getting along so well when we came here, and then--" And sh paused and, staring into space, reflected. She is a small woman and appears nervous and tired. She doesn't kow just what she will do. She says she hasn't any money and thinks she may go back to Des Moines and try to get work there where she had some of her belongings.