When was jury of her peers written

The story raises questions less about the justice of the law and more about its proper enforcement, less about the obligation to obey it and more about how—and who is—to judge those who may have violated it. With this background, consider the following questions.

Skip to main content. Student Activity. Photo caption. Susan Glaspell. Wikimedia Commons. That look of seeing into things, of seeing through a thing to something else, was in the eyes of the sheriff's wife now. When Mrs. Hale next spoke to her, it was gently:. Peters went to the back of the room to hang up the fur tippet she was wearing.

A moment later she exclaimed, "Why, she was piecing a quilt," and held up a large sewing basket piled high with quilt pieces. They were so engaged with the quilt that they did not hear the footsteps on the stairs.

Just as the stair door opened Mrs. Hale was saying:. There was a laugh for the ways of women, a warming of hands over the stove, and then the county attorney said briskly:. Hale said resentfully, after the outside door had closed on the three men--"our taking up our time with little things while we're waiting for them to get the evidence. I don't see as it's anything to laugh about.

They returned to an inspection of the block for the quilt. Hale was looking at the fine, even sewing, and preoccupied with thoughts of the woman who had done that sewing, when she heard the sheriff's wife say, in a queer tone:. Peters, in a troubled way, "All the rest of them have been so nice and even--but--this one. Why, it looks as if she didn't know what she was about! Their eyes met--something flashed to life, passed between them; then, as if with an effort, they seemed to pull away from each other.

A moment Mrs. Hale sat there, her hands folded over that sewing which was so unlike all the rest of the sewing. Then she had pulled a knot and drawn the threads. She threaded a needle and started to replace bad sewing with good. For a little while she sewed in silence. Then, in that thin, timid voice, she heard:. Hale, as if dismissing a thing not important enough to spend much time on. I sew awful queer sometimes when I'm just tired. She cut a thread, and out of the corner of her eye looked up at Mrs.

The small, lean face of the sheriff's wife seemed to have tightened up. Her eyes had that look of peering into something.

But next moment she moved, and said in her thin, indecisive way:. They may be through sooner than we think. I wonder where I could find a piece of paper--and string. One piece of the crazy sewing remained unripped. Peter's back turned, Martha Hale now scrutinized that piece, compared it with the dainty, accurate sewing of the other blocks.

The difference was startling. Holding this block made her feel queer, as if the distracted thoughts of the woman who had perhaps turned to it to try and quiet herself were communicating themselves to her.

Peters was holding up. Maybe she did. She used to sing real pretty herself. I wonder what happened to it. She's got that feeling some people have about cats--being afraid of them. When they brought her to our house yesterday, my cat got in the room, and she was real upset and asked me to take it out. The sheriff's wife did not reply. The silence made Mrs. Hale turn round. Peters was examining the bird-cage.

Again their eyes met--startled, questioning, apprehensive. For a moment neither spoke nor stirred. Then Mrs. Hale, turning away, said brusquely:. Peters put the bird-cage on the table and sat down. Hale, a certain determined naturalness in her voice. She had picked up the sewing, but now it dropped in her lap, and she murmured in a different voice: "But I tell you what I do wish, Mrs. I wish I had come over sometimes when she was here.

I wish--I had. Hale shortly. I"--she looked around--"I've never liked this place. Maybe because it's down in a hollow and you don't see the road. I don't know what it is, but it's a lonesome place, and always was.

I wish I had come over to see Minnie Foster sometimes. I can see now--" She did not put it into words. Hale, after a silence, "but it makes a quiet house--and Wright out to work all day--and no company when he did come in. Did you know John Wright, Mrs. But he was a hard man, Mrs. Just to pass the time of day with him Suddenly she leaned forward, looking intently at the cage. But after she said it she reached over and swung the broken door.

Both women watched it as if somehow held by it. Real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and--fluttery. That held her for a long time. Finally, as if struck with a happy thought and relieved to get back to everyday things, she exclaimed:. Peters, why don't you take the quilt in with you? It might take up her mind. Hale," agreed the sheriff's wife, as if she too were glad to come into the atmosphere of a simple kindness. Now, just what will I take?

I wonder if her patches are in here--and her things? Hale, bringing out a roll of cloth. Underneath that was a box. I'll warrant that was something she had a long time ago--when she was a girl. Its neck --look at its neck! It's all--other side to. And then again the eyes of the two women met--this time clung together in a look of dawning comprehension, of growing horror.

Peters looked from the dead bird to the broken door of the cage. Again their eyes met. And just then there was a sound at the outside door. Hale slipped the box under the quilt pieces in the basket, and sank into the chair before it. Peters stood holding to the table. The county attorney and the sheriff came in from outside. The county attorney did not heed her. Now let's go upstairs again and go over it, picee by piece. It would have to have been someone who knew just the--".

The two women sat motionless, not looking at each other, but as if peering into something and at the same time holding back. When they spoke now it was as if they were afraid of what they were saying, but as if they could not help saying it. When I was a girl," said Mrs. Peters, under her breath, "my kitten--there was a boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes--before I could get there--" She covered her face an instant. Hale at last began, as if feeling her way over strange ground--"never to have had any children around?

She used to sing. He killed that too. Hale," said the sheriff's wife. Hale had not moved. It was as if something within her not herself had spoken, and it found in Mrs.

Peters something she did not know as herself. Peters, in just that same way. Then she too pulled back. Hale," she said in her tight little way. The picture of that girl, the fact that she had lived neighbor to that girl for twenty years, and had let her die for lack of life, was suddenly more than she could bear. Who's going to punish that? I tell you, it's queer , Mrs.

We live close together, and we live far apart. We all go through the same things--it's all just a different kind of the same thing! If it weren't--why do you and I understand?

Why do we know --what we know this minute? She dashed her hand across her eyes. Then, seeing the jar of fruit on the table she reached for it and choked out:. A Jury of Her Peers.

John Wright has been found murdered at a farmhouse in rural Iowa in the early 's. Minnie Wright, John's wife, has been accused of the murder, being as she was the only person with John at the ti Download the Study Pack. Lesson Plan. Lesson Calendar. Chapter Abstracts. Character Descriptions.

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