A Six-Dollar Rent Debt and a Diamond Ring Nearly Drowned Her in Lake Washington
Ethel Perkins, a lodger at a Third-and-Union boarding house, tried to end her life when her rent fell behind and a barber demanded his ring back. A stranger on the Madison street car caught her at the wharf's edge.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A suicide that was no suicide is the event of the week at the Rosedale hotel, corner of Third and Union streets, and all that remains now to tell the story of a frustrated tragedy and drowning in Lake Washington is a little scrap of paper on which was written: "When you get this I will be dead. I am going to the lake to drown myself."
The Rosedale is kept by a Mrs. Harsch, and among her lodgers up to a few days ago was a petite brunette of 30, with wavy hair and pleasing black eyes, who goes by the name of Ethel Perkins. One of her intimates was a barber, from whom she had received a diamond ring. This friend in time demanded of Ethel that she pay him for the "present," and when she declined to comply with the demand he carried away her extra dresses and withheld them from her.
More than that, the girl's room rent became overdue, and last Monday Mrs. Harsch informed her that she was in arrears $6. Coupled with the circumstance of the ring, this was a crushing blow, and the unfortunate became despondent.
Miss Perkins occupied room 1, and just across the hall were the apartments of her best female friend, Dot Wilson, about 20 years old. Dot was Ethel's confidant, and into her responsive ear was poured many stories of melancholy misfortune. As Dot sat in her room at 6 o'clock Monday evening she was roused from a brown study by Ethel coming in and in a most affectionate manner, and with many endearing terms, bidding her farewell. A loving kiss closed the meeting, and Dot was at a loss to comprehend the unusual demonstration.
Nothing more was thought of the circumstance until 6 o'clock the next morning, when there was found in the girl's room the note spoken of above, addressed to Dot and signed "your loving Ethel."
Investigation showed that Ethel had attempted to carry out the design expressed in the note. When she left the Rosedale she boarded a Madison street car and started for Lake Washington. As chance would have it, on the same car was an acquaintance, Fred Russell, and the two engaged in conversation. Russell noticed that the woman was extremely agitated, and asked her what she was going to do. He received an evasive reply, and becoming suspicious resolved to watch her after leaving the car. She walked straight to the edge of the wharf at the foot of the track, Russell close behind her, and gathering up her skirts prepared to plunge into the black waters below. An instant before the fatal leap she felt herself grasped around the waist and a voice called to her:
"Not this time, Ethel; you must return to town."
"Let me go, let me go. I want to die!" screamed the frantic woman, and she struggled frantically in her captor's hands.
"Come now," Russell said, "you must go home, or I will have you arrested."
The threat had its effect, and Miss Perkins came back to town. She is now with her parents at 2300 Crawford street, and, it is said, regrets her attempt to launch herself into the unseen world.
“"Let me go, let me go. I want to die!" screamed the frantic woman.”
A woman driven to the lakeshore over $6 in back rent and a disputed gift reads less like a Victorian curiosity than a dispatch from Seattle's present. The same arithmetic — rent due, a debt that compounds into despair — still pushes people to the edge here, and the boarding house on Third and Union is now some of the most contested ground in the city.
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