diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/54074-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54074-0.txt | 5729 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 5729 deletions
diff --git a/old/54074-0.txt b/old/54074-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f4bbea1..0000000 --- a/old/54074-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5729 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Eye for an Eye, by Clarence Darrow - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: An Eye for an Eye - Big Blue Book no. B-24 - -Author: Clarence Darrow - -Release Date: January 30, 2017 [EBook #54074] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EYE FOR AN EYE *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - BIG BLUE BOOK NO. =B–24= - Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius - - - - - An Eye for an Eye - - - Clarence Darrow - - - HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY - GIRARD, KANSAS - - - - - Copyright, 1905, by - Clarence Darrow - - - Printed in the United States of America - - - - - AN EYE FOR AN EYE - - - - - I - - -When Hank Clery left the switch-yards in the outskirts of Chicago he -took the street car and went down town. He was going to the county jail -on the north side of the river. Hank had never been inside the jail -though he had been arrested a number of times and taken to the police -court, escaping luckily with a small fine which his mother had contrived -to pay. She was one of the best washerwomen of the whole neighborhood, -and never without work. All the officers knew that whenever Hank got -into trouble his mother would pay the fine and costs. Hank had often -been arrested, but he was by no means a bad fellow. He lived with his -old Irish mother and was very fond of her and often brought his wages -home if none of the boys happened to be near when the pay-car came -around. Hank was a switchman in one of the big railroad yards in -Chicago. Of course, he and his companions drank quite a little, and then -their sports and pastimes were not of the gentlest sort; for that matter -neither was their work—climbing up and down running cars and turning -switches just ahead of a great locomotive and watching to make sure -which track was safe where the moving cars and engines were all around— -did not tend to a quiet life. Of course, most people think that no man -will work in a switch-yard unless he drinks. Perhaps no man would drink -unless he worked in a switch-yard or some such place. - -Well, on this day Hank was going to the jail, not on account of any of -his own misdeeds, but on an errand of mercy. The night before, the -priest had come to Hank’s home and told him that his old friend, Jim -Jackson, had begged for him to visit the jail. Hank at first refused, -but the priest told him that Jim had no friends and was anxious to have -a few minutes’ talk with him before he died; Jim had some message that -he wanted to give Hank that he could not leave with anyone else. Hank -knew that Jim was to be hanged on Friday, and he had thought about it a -good deal in the last few days and wished that it was over. He had known -Jim for a long time; they had often been out together and sometimes got -drunk together. Jim once worked in the yards, but one night one of the -other boys was struck by the Limited as it pulled out on the main track, -and Jim and Hank gathered him up when the last Pullman coach had rolled -over him; and after that Jim could never go back to the yards; so he -managed to get an old horse and wagon and began peddling potatoes on the -street. - -One evening Hank took up the paper, and there he saw a headline covering -the whole page and a little fine print below telling how Jim had killed -his wife with a poker. Hank did not understand how this could be true, -but as the evidence seemed plain he made up his mind that Jim had really -always been a demon, but that he had managed to keep it hidden from his -friends. Hank really did not want to go to the jail to see Jim; somehow -it seemed as if it was not the same fellow that he used to know so well, -and then he was afraid and nervous about talking with a man who was -going to be hanged next day. But the priest said so much that finally -Hank’s mother told him she thought he ought to go. So he made up his -mind that he would stand it, although he was a great deal more afraid -and nervous than when he was turning switches in the yard. After the -priest left the house Hank went down to the alderman and got a pass to -go inside the jail. He always went to the alderman for everything; all -the people thought that this was what an alderman was for and they cared -nothing about anything else he did. - -When Hank got down town he went straight across the Dearborn Street -bridge to the county jail. It was just getting dusk as he came up to the -great building. The jail did not look a bit like a jail. It was a tall -grand building, made of white stone, and the long rows of windows that -cover the whole Dearborn Street side looked bright and cheerful with the -electric lights that were turned on as Hank came up to the door. If it -had not been for the iron-bars across the windows he might have thought -that he was looking at a bank or a great wholesale warehouse. Hank -stepped into the large vestibule just inside the shelter of the big -front door. Along each side was a row of people sitting on benches -placed against the wall. He did not wait to look closely at this crowd; -in fact, he could not have done so had he tried, for Hank was no artist -or philosopher and was neither subtle nor deep. He saw them just as he -would have seen a freight car stealing down the track to catch him -unawares. He did notice that most of these watchers were women, that -many of them were little children, and that all looked poor and -woe-begone. They were the same people that Hank saw every day out by the -yards, living in the rumble of the moving trains and under the black -clouds of smoke and stench that floated over their mean homes from the -great chimneys and vats of the packing houses. Most of the women and -children had baskets or bundles in their arms, and sat meek and still -waiting for the big key to turn in the great iron lock of the second -door. - -When Hank went up to this door someone inside pushed back a little -slide, showed his face at the peep-hole, and asked him who he was and -what he wanted. Hank shoved the alderman’s letter through the little -window and the door opened without delay. This was not the first time -that the gloomy gate had turned on its hinges under the magic of that -name, both for coming in and going out. - -Inside the little office was the same motley, helpless crowd of people, -the same sad-faced women and weary children standing dazed and dejected -with their poor baskets and bundles in their arms. Some were waiting to -be taken through this barred door, while others had just returned and -were stopping until the turnkey should open the outside gate and let -them go. - -In a few minutes a guard came to Hank and asked if he was the man who -brought the alderman’s note. On receiving the reply, the guard told him -that the alderman was all right and it was worth while to be his friend. -That was the way he got his job and he always stuck by his friends. Then -the guard unlocked another door and took Hank to the elevator where he -was carried to the fourth story. Here he was let off on an iron floor -directly in front of a great door made of iron bars. The turnkey quickly -unlocked and opened this door and let Hank and the guard into what -seemed a long hall with iron floor, ceiling and walls. Nothing but iron -all around. Along one side of the hall were more iron bars, and a wire -netting ran from the ceiling to the floor. Along the whole length of -this wire netting was a row of the same kind of people Hank had seen -below. They were packed close to the grating, and crowding and pushing -to get up to the screening. Most of these were women, here and there one -of them holding a little child by the hand and one with a baby in her -arms. On the other side Hank saw a row of men pressing just as closely -to the netting, most of these looking pale and ill. The evening was hot -and not a breath of fresh air was anywhere about. The peculiar odor of -the prison, more sickening that the stock yards stench which Hank -always, breathed, was so strong that he could not tell whether he -smelled it or tasted it. - -The guards were rushing noisily around among the visitors and inmates, -passing bundles and baskets out and in, calling the names of the -prisoners to be taken from their cells inside and brought down to the -wire netting to get a glimpse of some relative or friend. Hank was -bewildered by it all and for a few minutes stood almost dazed, wondering -what it meant and what good purpose it all served. - -Next to him stood a woman, perhaps forty years of age; in one hand she -held a basket, and by the other the hand of a little girl about nine -years old. The woman was dressed in a loose, ill-fitting gown and on her -head was a black sailor hat. Behind the wire screen was a man of about -her own age. He wore only black trousers, suspenders, a grayish woolen -shirt and old shoes. The man and woman stood with their fingers touching -through the netting. Hank heard the man say that he did not know what to -do, that the good lawyers charged so much that he couldn’t have them, -and the ones who came to the jail did more harm than good. It was funny -that you couldn’t do anything without a lawyer. One of the prisoners, -who was a smart man and had been there a good many times, had told him -that the best way was to plead guilty and ask the mercy of the court; -that he thought the judge might let him off with a two hundred dollar -fine—“you know the State’s Attorney gets the money.” Hank heard the -woman answer that maybe to pay the fine was the best way after all; as -soon as he was arrested she took Gussy out of the high school, and Gussy -was now working in the department store and thought Aggie could get in -as a cash girl; of course Aggie was too young, but still she was pretty -large for her age and might get through, as Gussy knew the floorwalker -very well—he stopped at the house to visit one evening that week and was -real nice. - -“I’ve been scrubbing in the Masonic Temple nights, but it’s pretty hard -work and I am getting so large I am afraid I can’t keep it up much -longer. You know I’ll be sick next month. There are a few things in the -house yet and I might get a little money on them, and then there are the -Maloneys next door; you know we were always fighting, but after you went -away they seemed kind of sorry and have been awfully good to us, and I -think they might help us a little, although they haven’t got much -themselves——” - -Hank couldn’t stop to hear all they said, and besides he felt as if he -had no right to stand and listen, so he let his eye wander on down the -line. Just beyond he saw an old bent, gray-haired woman with a long -black veil and spotless black gown. She was crying and talking to a -young man inside the grating. He heard her ask, “How could you have done -it?” and heard him answer, “Mother, I don’t know, but somehow I didn’t -seem to think about it at the time.” Just beyond were a man and a woman -and it was so hard for them to get close to the screen that the man held -a little baby up in his arms to look over the people in front. The child -looked in wonder and then held out its hands and shouted with delight, -“Mamma, there’s papa. Papa, have you been here all the time? Why don’t -you come back home?” Young girls, too, pressed closely up to the screen, -each with that look at the youth inside that neither the wise nor the -foolish have ever failed to understand. The prison bars and the laws -that placed their lovers outside the pale had no power to change their -feeling, only to deepen and intensify their love. - -While Hank stood in the corridor a number of men called from the inside: -“Pardner, have you got any tobacco?” Hank hastily gave away all he had, -and thought that if he should ever come back he would buy as much as he -could before his visit. But his musing was soon interrupted by the guard -tapping him on the shoulder and telling him he was ready. Then another -turnkey opened a barred door and let him inside the wicket. Here he -stood in a narrow hallway with still another big locked door in front. -Soon this was swung open, and at last Hank stood inside the bars and the -nettings with a great throng of coatless, hatless men all talking, -laughing, chewing and smoking, and walking by twos and threes, up and -down the room. Hank had always supposed that these men were different -from the ones he knew and had fancied that he would be afraid to be with -such a crowd, but when he got inside, somehow he did not think of them -as burglars and pickpockets; they seemed just like other men, except -that they were a little paler and thinner and more bent. Some of these -men spoke to Hank, asking him for tobacco or for money. He saw one man -whom he knew very well, one of his neighbors that he supposed was out of -town; and he quickly noticed that this man tried to keep out of his -sight. Hank had never thought that he was bad, and could not but wonder -how he happened to be here. - -Hank looked around for Jim, but was told that he was upstairs locked in -his cell. The guard explained that the death-watch had been set on him -and that for some time no one had left him day or night. He was to be -hanged in the morning before sunrise. He himself had gone around that -day and handed written invitations to the judges to be present. Some of -them had asked him whether they could get in a few friends who wanted to -go and see the hanging. The guard said they had over a thousand -applications for tickets; that it was one of the most popular hangings -they’d ever had in the jail. He supposed this was because Jackson had -killed his wife and the newspapers had said so much about it. - -He could not help feeling sorry for Jackson. Of course, he supposed he -was awfully wicked or he wouldn’t have killed his wife, but since he had -come to know Jackson he had found him a perfect gentleman and very kind -and obliging, and he acted like a good fellow. It really seemed kind of -tough to hang a man. He had seen a good many men hung and was getting -kind of tired of it. He believed he would go out in the country fishing -somewhere tomorrow instead of staying to see it done. They never needed -so many guards on that day because all the prisoners were kept locked up -in their cells. - -As Hank went along, the guard chatted to him in the most friendly way. -He pointed over to the courtyard where there were some long black beams -and boards, and said that was where they were going to hang Jackson, -that the carpenters would put up the scaffold in the night. The -murderers’ row where Jim was kept was around on the side where he -couldn’t see the carpenters put up the scaffold. It used to be right in -front but it had been changed. The guard said he didn’t see much -difference, because the men could hear it and they knew just what it -was, and anyhow they never could sleep the last night unless they took -something. He told Hank that after they got through he would take him -down to the office and show him a piece of the rope that they used to -hang the Anarchists, and the one they used on Pendergast, who killed -Carter Harrison, and the one they had for the car-barn murderers. It was -the very best rope they could get; some people wouldn’t know it from -clothes-line but it was a good deal finer and more expensive. - -The guard said it was strange how these men acted before they were -hanged. - -“You wouldn’t hardly know them from the prisoners who were in jail -working out a fine,” he explained. “They don’t seem to mind it very much -or talk about it a great deal. Of course, at first they generally kind -of think that the Supreme Court is going to give them a new trial; their -lawyers tell them so. But half the time this is so that their friends -will get more money to pay for carrying the cases up; though I must say -that some of the lawyers are good fellows and do all they can to help -them. Sometimes some of the lawyers that have the worst reputations are -really better than the others. Then after the Supreme Court decides -against them, they have a chance to go to the governor and the Board of -Pardons. Of course this isn’t much use, but somehow they always think it -will be, and the case is never really decided until the last day and -that kind of helps to keep them up. Now, there’s Jackson; I took him the -telegram about an hour ago and he read it and it didn’t seem to make -much difference. He just said, ‘Well, I s’pose that’s all.’ And then he -picked it up and read it again and said, ‘Well, the lawyer says he’s -going back to the governor at midnight. Something might happen then; -will the office be open if any telegram comes?’ I told him that it would -and he says, ‘Well, I presume that it’s no use; but where there’s life -there’s hope.’ I s’pose the lawyer just said that to kind of brace him -up and that he took the night train back to Chicago, but I didn’t tell -Jim so. Well, anyhow, I’m going to see that he has a good breakfast. We -always give ‘em anything they want, either tea or coffee, ham and eggs, -bacon, steak, beans, potatoes, wheat cakes and molasses, almost anything -you can think of. Of course most of ‘em can’t eat much, but some of ‘em -take a pretty big breakfast. It really don’t do any good, only the taste -of it goin’ down; they are always dead before it has a chance to digest. -A good many of ‘em feel rather squeamish in the morning and drink a good -deal before they start out. We always give ‘em all they want to drink; -most of ‘em are really drunk when they are hung. But I think that’s all -right, don’t you? There were some temperance people once that made a row -about it, but I think that’s carrying temperance entirely too far -myself. - -“Well, I didn’t mean to gossip with you so much, but I thought maybe you -would like to know something about it and so long as the alderman sent -you over I wanted to do all I could for you. Give my respects to the -alderman. I guess he’ll be a candidate next spring. He says he won’t, -but I think he will. He always knows what he’s doing. All he wants is to -throw them reform guys off the track. They might know that they couldn’t -beat him. Our people out there don’t care anything about municipal -ownership and Civil Service Reform, and things like that. What they want -is turkeys on Thanksgiving and to be helped out of the lock-up and -pardoned out of the Bridewell and found jobs. That’s what they want, and -there ain’t an alderman in town that tends to the business of his ward -better than ours, and we don’t care whether the railroads and gas -companies give him money or not. We don’t expect him to work for nothin’ -and don’t want him to; and what do we care about the streets? None of us -has horses and the fellows that wants ‘em ought to pay for ‘em. Well, -here’s Jackson, and I’ll tell the guard to let you stay with him all you -want to; he’s a good fellow and will do what I want. You can say -anything you please to Jackson and he can talk to you all he wants to; -the guard won’t listen if he knows you’re all right, but it isn’t any -more than fair, anyhow, for this is his last night.” - -Hank listened to the guard without being impatient for, in the first -place, he felt as if he had made a new friend, and he liked him; he was -such a good talker and told him so much that was new and he didn’t seem -the least bit stuck up, although he had such a good job. Then all the -time he felt nervous and uneasy about meeting Jackson; the Jackson he -knew was not a criminal but a good fellow who used to play pool and -drink beer and go to primaries, while this man was a murderer who was to -be hung next day; then again he didn’t seem a real man, but a sort of -ghost, so that Hank had a good deal the feeling he used to know as a -child when he went past a graveyard, or that he felt in a morgue, or -when he went to look at some dead friend. - -When he came up to the cell Jackson was smoking a cigar and talking with -the guard. At the first glance the uneasy feeling passed away. It was -the same Jim Jackson that he knew, except thinner and paler than when he -saw him last. Before the guard had time to speak Jackson reached out his -hand, smiled and said “Hello, Hank, I’m awful glad you came. I’ve been -looking for you all the afternoon.” Hank took his hand without the least -feeling that it was the hand of a murderer. It was only the old friend -and comrade he had known. - -The guard unlocked the door and told Hank to go in. Then he said: - -“Now, you folks talk all you want to. I won’t hear a single word you -say. I’ll sit out here and if there is anything I can do, let me know.” - -Hank went into the little cell. On one side was an iron shelf and on -this a straw tick and some bed clothing. A little wash-stand and -slop-pail stood in one corner, a chair was near the stand, and a few -pictures taken from colored supplements were on the white walls. The -guard handed in another chair and the two friends sat down. At first -there was a short, painful silence. It was plain that both had been -thinking what to say and neither knew just how to begin. Hank had -thought that he would ask Jim how he happened to kill his wife; he -thought he ought to talk with him and tell him how terrible it was. He -believed that perhaps this was his duty toward a fellow-being standing -so near the presence of his Maker. Then, too, he had the feeling that -unless he really told Jim what he thought about his crime, it would be -almost the same as being an accessory to the act. In fact, when Hank was -going to the jail he had a vague idea that his only right to visit Jim -was to preach to him in some way. He would almost have thought it a -crime to meet him on equal terms. - -After they sat down Jim was again the first to speak. “My room here’s -pretty crowded but I guess it’ll do for tonight. Make yourself just as -comfortable as possible for I’d like to have you stay with me as long as -you can. It’s a little lonesome you know. The guard’s a good fellow. He -visits with me every night and is as friendly as he can be. He told me -that he was in jail himself once for burglary, but you mustn’t say -anything about it. His lawyer got him out, but he says he was really -guilty. That was a good many years ago. He says he believes if he had -gone to the penitentiary he would never have amounted to anything, but -as soon as he got out of jail he turned over a new leaf and made up his -mind to make something of himself, and just see where he is now. He is -an awful kind fellow. I know he feels sorry for me. He gives me all the -cigars I want and all the privileges he can. There’s a guard here in the -daytime that I don’t like; he was appointed by the Citizens’ -Association. He’s strict and awful good. He’s always asking me questions -about myself, says he’s getting statistics for the association. He seems -to think that it must have been whisky that made me do it, and he gives -me tracts; of course that’s all right, but still you’d think that once -in a while he’d say something else to a fellow, or at least give him a -cigar. Some way he don’t seem to have any feeling. I s’pose he’s a good -deal better than the other guard but I don’t like him near so well. - -“But that wasn’t what I got you here for. I really wanted to talk with -you. You see no one that I knew has been to see me since I came. I don’t -s’pose I ought to expect they would. I used to know a good many fellers -who went to jail but I never went to see ‘em. I always kind of thought -they wa’n’t fit for me to associate with, and I s’pose that’s the way -most people believe. But since I came here somehow it don’t look quite -the same. Maybe that’s on account of what I done. I told the priest I -thought you’d come because we was always such good friends, and he told -me he would go and see you. He’s been awful good to me although I never -went to church any when I was out. He talks to me as if I was just like -other people. Of course he tells me I done wrong, and I know I did, but -he don’t tell me as if I was the only one that ever done wrong, and as -if he and everyone else was so much different, and as if he couldn’t see -how I done it. He talks just as if my soul was worth as much as -anybody’s and as if I’d have a better chance afterward than I ever had -before. Anyhow he’s done me lots of good and I honestly believe he’s -made me a better man, and if I only had a chance to do anything now I’d -amount to something; but of course I can’t. But still, I wanted to tell -you a few things that I couldn’t even tell him, for you know that, no -matter how good he is, he somehow seems different from you; you know I -kind of feel as if you was just like me. You’ll excuse me, I know, for -saying this, bein’ as the time is so short. - -“You remember about my boy. Now of course I always was a rough fellow -and never did quite right ever before that, but still I guess you know I -always loved that kid. Strange thing, he’ll be four years old tomorrow -on the very day—well, poor little fellow, I hope he don’t know nothing -about it. You remember the time that kid had the croup and how we -thought he couldn’t get well, and you know I went down to the yard to -tell you about it and how bad I felt. I almost wish now he’d died, but -maybe that’s wicked and God will take care of the kid better’n he did of -me. Well, I haven’t heard a word about that boy since I came to the -jail, or since I left him at the house that night, except a little bit -in court and what that good guard says. He kind of holds out that he’s -in some kind of an orphan asylum where he’s gettin’ plenty to eat and -where he’ll learn what’s right and wrong, and be a good man, and that’s -all right, but I’d like to know where the kid is. He says if I thought -so much of him I ought to have showed it before, and I s’pose I ought; -but I did think lots of him; just as much as them rich folks think of -their boys. I want him to be taken care of and to be educated and grow -up to be a good man, and maybe it’s a good deal better if he never knows -anything about his father, but somehow I can’t help wantin’ him to know -who I was and don’t want him to think of me just like the newspapers and -everybody else does. I wouldn’t want him to grow up like that guard, -even if he is real good. And you see there wa’n’t any one but you that I -could send for and tell them just how it all happened. No one yet has -ever known how it was, and everybody says I was to blame and that I’m a -demon and a monster, and I thought maybe if I explained the whole thing -to you, just as it was, you could see that I wa’n’t so much to blame; -anyhow that there was some excuse for what I done, and then some time -when the boy’s growed up he’d know that I wa’n’t so bad as everyone says -I was. - -“Of course I know you can’t, for I know you’re poor like me, but so many -times when I thought about the boy I thought that maybe you and your -mother might raise him just the way I would have done; and then your -mother was always so good to all of us. I remember how she used to raise -the little geese down along the canal if anything happened to the old -goose; don’t you remember about that? My, but them was fine times, -wa’n’t they? Of course if you could do it I don’t know but the alderman -would help you; anyhow he’d get free books and clothes off’n the county -when he went to school. How are politics up in the ward? Is he goin’ to -run again? I never hear anything only what I get out of the papers and -they’re all against him, but I think he’ll show ‘em yet. Wish I was out -so I could help. But I must go on with what I brought you to hear. I’m -goin’ to tell you the whole story just exactly as it is, and you know -that I wouldn’t tell you a lie tonight with what they are goin’ to do in -the mornin’. I can’t make you understand unless I commence clear at the -beginnin’, but I know you won’t mind, seein’ it’s my last time.” - - - - - II - - -You know I was born in Chicago and never was out of it but once until -the night it happened. I don’t know anything about my father and mother -except what my aunt told me. You know she raised me, and I can’t make -any complaint about the way she done it. I was real small when I went to -live with her. She stayed all alone down on the canal. I guess you knew -me when I was livin’ with her. She worked hard, but, of course, ladies -of that kind don’t get much. She used to go over to the south side to do -washin’ and to clean houses, and things like that, and sometimes when I -was small she took me along. They were awful nice houses where we went. -That’s how I got to know so much about the way rich people live. When I -got bigger, she used to send me to school. I was pretty steady in school -and got clear up to the sixth grade. I know it must have been awful hard -for her to send me the way she earnt her money, but she seemed to think -as much of me as if I’d been her own boy. She could have got along -better, but every time she got five or ten dollars laid up it seemed as -if there was a funeral of some of the neighbors and she had to club in -and hire a carriage, and that took her money almost as fast as she could -earn it. - -“You remember how we used to play around the canal in them days. It -smelled pretty bad but we didn’t seem to mind it much. We used to sail -boats and go in swimmin’ and catch frogs and do ‘most everything. There -was quite a gang of us boys that lived there. It don’t seem as if any of -‘em ever amounted to very much. Most of ‘em are in the stock yards or -switchin’ or doin’ somethin’ like that. The only ones that I can think -of that growed up down there and amounted to anything is the alderman -and Bull Carmody, who went to the legislature. They call both of ‘em -Honor’ble, you know. I guess anybody is honor’ble who ever had an office -or tried to get one. Us boys used to get arrested quite a good deal. Of -course we was pretty tough, you know that. We was always in some -devilment. All of us rushed the can and chewed tobacco; then we fought a -good deal and used to play ‘round the cars. Some of the boys would break -into ‘em; but I never stole anything in my life unless you count coal -off’n the cars, and I don’t know how we could have got along in the -winter without that. Anyhow I guess nobody thinks anything of stealin’ -coal off’n cars. - -“But I don’t s’pose there’s any use goin’ over my whole history. I don’t -know as it has anything to do with it anyway, only it kind of seems to -me that I never had a very good chance and as if mebbe things would’ve -been different if I had. - -“Well, you remember when my aunt died I had got to be about fourteen. -Then I found a job out to the stock yards. I never liked that work; I -used to see so much killin’. At first I felt sorry for the cattle and -the hogs, and especially for the sheep and calves—they all seemed so -helpless and innocent—but after I’d been there awhile I got used to -seein’ their throats cut and seein’ blood around everywhere, all over -the buildings and in the gutters, and I didn’t think any more about it. -You know I stayed there quite a while. Then I went to work for the -railroad company. First I was in the freight house unloadin’ cars. This -was pretty rough, heavy work, but I didn’t mind it much; you know I was -always kind of stout. Then I thought I’d like to work in the yards; it -would give me more air and not be quite so confinin’. So I got a job as -switchman, same as you. Well, you know all about that work. It ain’t the -nicest thing in the world to be a switchman. Of course if they’d make -the couplers all alike then there wouldn’t be so much danger; but you -know when one of them safety couplers comes against one of the old kind -that the boys call ‘man killers’ it’s pretty dangerous business. Then, -of course, when a car is run down a switch and you have to couple it -onto another car just as it bumps in, it’s kind of dangerous too. Of -course, the rules say you must use a stick to put the link into the -drawhead, but nobody ever uses a stick; you know all the boys would -laugh at a feller that used a stick. There ain’t nothin’ to do but to go -in between the cars and take hold of the link and put it in. If anything -happens to be wrong with the bumpers and they slip past, of course you -get squeezed to death; or, if you miss the link, or it gets caught or -anything, your head or arm is liable to be smashed off. Then you’ve got -to watch all the time, for if you stub your toe or forget for a second, -you’re gone. I kind of think that the switch-yards make a feller -reckless and desperate, and I don’t believe that a man that works in the -switch-yards or stock yards looks at things quite the same as other -people. Still you know them fellers ain’t bad. You’ve seen ‘em cry when -they went home to tell a lady how her man had been run over, or tell -some old woman about how her boy had got hurt, and you know we always -helped the boys out and we didn’t have much money either. - -“You remember we was workin’ together in the yards when the strike come -on. I was in debt, just as I always have been. Somehow I never could -keep out of debt; could you? The rich people say it’s because we drink -so much, but I’d like to see them try to live on what we get. Why, you -know we hardly ever go to the theater, and if we do we go up in the -gallery. I never had a job of work done on my teeth in my life except -once when I paid a quarter to get one pulled. Do you s’pose any of us -would ever think we could get a gold fillin’ in our teeth? Now that suit -of clothes over on the bed is the first whole suit of new clothes I ever -had. The guard brought ‘em in a little while ago, and I’m to put ‘em on -in the mornin’. But I guess they won’t do me much good. I’d rather they -had taken the money and give it to the kid for a rockin’ horse or candy. - -“But I was tellin’ about the strike. My, the way I go on! I guess it’s -because this is the first time I’ve had a chance to say anything to -anyone since it happened, and of course it’ll be my last. As soon as I -got back my lawyer told me not to talk to anyone, but I don’t see what -difference it would have made—them detectives seemed to know everything -and a good deal more, they knew more about me than I ever knew about -myself. - -“You remember all of us went out on the strike. I guess most of the boys -was in debt, but they all struck just the same. The papers abused us and -said we hadn’t any right to strike; that we hadn’t any grievance, and it -was worse for us to strike on that account. Now it seemed to me that it -was better to strike for the Pullman people than for ourselves—it didn’t -seem so selfish; but the papers and the judges didn’t look at it that -way. Of course the strike was pretty hard on all of us. I got into the -lock-up before it was over, though I never meant to do nothin’. I guess -I did hit a scab over the head, but he was comin’ to take our job. It’s -queer how everybody looks at things a different way. Now I never thought -it was so awful bad to hit a scab who was takin’ another man’s job. Of -course I know some of ‘em are poor and have families, but so have the -strikers got families and we was strikin’ to help all the poor people. -If you read the newspapers and hear what the judges say you would think -hittin’ scabs was worse’n murder. I don’t s’pose it’s just right, but I -don’t hardly see what else is to be done. You remember that scab, don’t -you, that worked with us on the road, and you remember when he got his -leg cut off, and how all the boys helped him, and the railroad fought -his case and beat him, and yet they always seemed to think more of him -than any of the rest of us. Now it seems to me there’s lots of things -worse’n hittin’ scabs. If I was one of them packers I know I’d give a -lot of meat to poor people instead of fixin’ every way I could to make -‘em pay so much, but the rich people don’t seem to think there’s -anything wrong about that, but it’s awful to hit a scab or to strike. - -“Well, you know after the strike was over none of us could get a job -anywhere, but finally I changed my name and managed to get in again. I -believe the yard master knew who I was and felt kind of sorry for me. -Anyhow I got the job. Then you know the time Jimmy Carroll got run over -by that limited train. I sort of lost my nerve. I wouldn’t have thought -about it if all the cars hadn’t run over him; but when we had to pick up -his head and his legs and his arms and his body all in different places, -I somehow got scared and couldn’t switch any more. So I quit the yards. -But I’ve been runnin’ along so over things that really don’t have -anything to do with the case that I’ve almost forgot the things I wanted -to tell you about. But just wait a minute; I hear someone comin’ down -the corridor and I want to see who it is. No, it’s only one of the -guards. I didn’t know but possibly my lawyer might have sent—but I guess -it’s no use. - -“Let me see; I was goin’ to tell you about gettin’ married. You knew -her, Hank. You remember when we got a job again after the strike and you -know the little restaurant where we used to board? Well, you remember -she was waitin’ on the table. All the boys knew her and they all liked -her too; she was always real friendly and jolly with all of us, but she -was all right. Of course she couldn’t have got much wages there for it -was only a cheap place where the railroad boys et, but somehow she -always seemed to keep herself fixed up pretty well. I never thought much -about her, only to kind of jolly her like the rest of the boys, until -the time she got that red waist and done her hair up with them red -ribbons. I don’t know anything about how it was, but them seemed to -ketch my eye and I commenced goin’ with her, and used to get off as -early as I could from the yards, and when she got through washin’ the -supper things we used to go out and take street-car rides, and go for -walks in the parks, and stay out late almost every night. - -“Finally I made up my mind that I wanted to settle down and have a home. -Of course I knew ‘twould be more confinin’, but then I thought ‘twould -be better. So one night when we was out walkin’ I kind of brought it -‘round some way and asked her to marry me. I was surprised when she said -she would, because she was so much nicer than me or any of the rest of -the boys; but she said she would right straight off, and then I asked -when it had better be and she said she didn’t see any use waitin’, so -long as it was goin’ to be done. Of course, I hadn’t thought of its -comin’ right away, and I wa’n’t really prepared because I was -considerable in debt and would like to’ve paid up first. I told her how -I was fixed and she said that didn’t make any difference, that she’d -always heard that two could live as cheap as one, and she was savin’ and -a good manager and it wouldn’t cost us much to start, for she’d noticed -the signs in the street cars about four rooms furnished for ninety-five -dollars with only five dollars down, and we wouldn’t need but three -rooms anyway. Then, after I’d asked her to marry me and had made up my -mind to do it there wa’n’t no excuse for waitin’, so the next Sunday we -went over to St. Joe and got married. She asked me if I didn’t think -that was just as good as any way. - -“When we come back we rented three rooms down near the yards for ten -dollars a month, and went down to the store to buy the furniture, but -the clerk made us think that so long as we was just startin’ and I had a -good job we ought to get better things than the ninety-five dollars, so -we spent one hundred and fifty dollars and agreed to pay ten dollars a -month, and the furniture was to be theirs until it was paid for. - -“Well, we started in to keep house and got along pretty well at first. -She was a good housekeeper and savin’ and I kind of liked bein’ married. -Of course, it cost us a little more’n I expected, and when I came to buy -clothes and shoes and pay grocery bills I found that two couldn’t live -as cheap as one, but I hadn’t any doubt but that she thought they could. -I guess all women does. Then I got hurt and was laid off for two months -and couldn’t pay the installments, and got behind on my rent, and got in -debt at the store, and this made it pretty hard. When I went to work I -paid all I had, but somehow I never could catch up. - -“Well, about that time the kid was born, and then we had to have the -doctor and I had to get a hired girl for a week, for I wanted to do -everything I could for her, and that all kept me back. Then they -commenced threatenin’ to take the furniture away, and every week the -collector came ‘round and I did all I could, but somehow I couldn’t make -it come out even. - -“I s’pose you don’t see what all this has got to do with my killin’ her, -and I don’t think I quite see myself, but still I want to tell it all. -Sometimes I think if I hadn’t been so poor and in debt I never would -have done it, and I don’t believe I would. I was so much in debt that I -felt sorry when I knew we was goin’ to have the child. I didn’t see how -we could bring it up and make anything out of it, and how it could ever -have any better chance than I had. And then she’d been doin’ a little -work to help out on the furniture, and I knew that she couldn’t do any -more after that. But still as soon as the child was born I was always -glad of it, and used to think more about him than anyone else, and I -would have done anything I could for him. She liked him, too, and was -always good to him, and no matter what I say about her I can’t say that -she didn’t treat the boy all right. - -“Well, after the kid was about a year old we began to have trouble. She -was always complainin’ that I didn’t bring home enough money. She said I -went ‘round too much nights and that I drank too much beer and chewed -too much tobacco and smoked too much, and she complained ‘most all the -time, and then I got mad and we had a row. I don’t mean to blame her, -‘specially after what happened, and since I’ve been here so long doin’ -nothin’ but countin’ the days and waitin’ for my lawyer to come, I’ve -had time to think of ever’thing a good deal more than I ever did before. -And I don’t say she was to blame. I s’pose it was hard for her, too. Of -course, the rooms was small and they was awful hot in the summer and -cold in the winter, and then the collectors was always comin’ ‘round, -and I used to be tired when I got home, and I was so blue that I said -things without really knowin’ that I said ‘em. Ain’t you done that when -somebody was talkin’ to you and your mind was on somethin’ else, kind of -answered ‘em back without knowin’ what they said or what you said? I -presume I was cross a good many times and mebbe it was as hard for her -as ‘twas for me. Of course, I used to wish I’d never got married and -that I was boardin’ back there to the restaurant when I didn’t have all -the debts; and I s’pose she’d been better off back there too, waitin’ on -the table; anyhow she always looked better in them days than she did -after we was married, so I guess she must have got more money at the -restaurant than I gave her. But after the boy was born I never really -wished we wa’n’t married, for I always thought of him and knew he never -would have been born if we hadn’t got married; but of course, that -didn’t keep us from fightin’. I don’t mean that we fought all the time. -Sometimes when I got home she was as nice as she could be, and had -supper all ready, and we’d read the newspaper and talk and have a real -good time; but then, again somethin’ would happen to put us out and we’d -fight. I can’t say that she always begun it. I guess I begun it a good -many times. I found fault because the bills was too big and the way -things was cooked, and the way she looked, and, of course, if I said -anything she got mad and answered back. I’ve thought a lot about our -fights and that awful one we had last, and I don’t believe one of ‘em -would have happened if it hadn’t been for the money. Of course, I s’pose -other people would make some other excuses for their fights and that no -one would be to blame if you would let ‘em tell it themselves, but I’m -‘most sure that if I’d only been gettin’ money enough to keep a hired -girl and live in a good place, and get good clothes and dress her and -the boy the way they ought to have been, and not get in debt, we -wouldn’t have fought. - -“The debts kep’ gettin’ bigger all the time and I begun to get scared -for fear the furniture would be took away—we hadn’t paid more’n half up -and then there was a good deal of interest. I went one day to see a -lawyer, but he didn’t tell me anything that done me any good and I had -to pay him ten dollars out of my next month’s wages, so that made me all -the worse off. Lawyers get their money awful easy, don’t they? I always -wished I could be a lawyer and if I had my life to live over again I -would be one if I could. - -“It seemed as if things kep’ gettin’ worse at home and I stayed out a -good many nights because I didn’t want a row for I knew there’d be one -as soon as I got home. So far most of our fightin’ had been only jawin’ -back an’ forth. Once she threw a dish at me and I slapped her in the -face, but didn’t hurt her, and I guess she didn’t try hard to hit me -with the dish; anyhow if she had wanted to she was near enough so she -could. - -“One night though, I come home pretty late. I’d been out with the boys -to a caucus and we had drunk quite a bit. The alderman was running again -and had got us a keg of beer. I didn’t really know what I was doin’ when -I came in. I was hopin’ she’d be in bed but she was waitin’ for me when -I come in and said: ‘There comes my drunkard again. This is a pretty -time of night to get home! You’d better go back to your drunken cronies -and stay the rest of the night,’—and a lot of more things like that. I -told her to shut up and go to bed, but that made her madder and then she -called me a lot of names. I told her to stop or I’d choke her, but she -kep’ right on talkin’, callin’ me a drunkard and all kinds of names, and -tellin’ me how I’d treated her and the boy; I couldn’t make her keep -still; the more I threatened her the more she talked. Finally she said, -‘You cowardly brute, I dare you to touch me!’ and she kind of come right -up to where I was. Of course I didn’t really half think what I was -doin’, but I drawed off and hit her in the face with my fist. I guess I -hit her pretty hard; anyhow she fell on the floor, and I ran up to her -to pick her up, but she said, ‘Leave me alone, you coward,’ and then I -was madder’n ever and I kicked her. The next day she went to the police -court and had me arrested. The judge was awful hard on me, told me if he -had his way ‘bout it he’d have a law made to have wife-beaters whipped -with a cat-o’-nine tails in the public square, and he fined me one -hundred dollars. - -“Of course I hadn’t any money so I went to jail, but in a day or two she -went to the judge and cried and told him I was all right when I wasn’t -drunk and she got me out. I never thought that judge done right to -lecture me the way he did. I don’t think that strikin’ your wife is as -bad as strikin’ your child, and still ‘most everybody does that. Most -women can defend themselves but a little child can’t do anything. Still, -of course, I don’t defend strikin’ your wife, only one word kind of -brings on another and it sounds different in the newspaper from what it -really is. - -“Well, after I got home from the jail we talked it over together and -made up our minds we’d better part. Things had gone so bad with us that -we thought it wa’n’t worth while to try any more and mebbe we’d both be -better off alone. She was real sensible about it and was goin’ to keep -the boy. I promised to give ‘em half my wages and was to see him -whenever I wanted to. - -“When we got our minds made up we went to see about a lawyer. She’d been -goin’ over to the Settlement a good deal for advice and they’d been good -to us but they didn’t like me; they blamed me for ever’thing that -happened, and of course them settlement ladies wa’n’t none of ‘em -married and they couldn’t understand how a feller would drink or fight -with his wife. They didn’t know what allowance a woman has to make for a -man, same as a man does for a woman—only a different kind. When she told -‘em what we were goin’ to do they all said, ‘No, you mustn’t do that. -You must make the best of it and stay together’; they said that even if -I promised to give her half my money I never would do it, but would go -off and she’d never see me again. If they knew anything about what I -thought of the boy they wouldn’t have said it. Then they said it would -be a disgrace and that it would disgrace the child. I wish now we’d done -it anyway. It would have been better for the child than it is now. Then -she went to see the priest. We were both born Catholics, although we -hadn’t paid much attention to it. That was the reason we went to St. Joe -to get married. The priest told her that she mustn’t get a divorce, that -divorces wa’n’t allowed except on scriptural grounds. Of course we -couldn’t get it on them grounds. There never was nothin’ wrong with her— -I’ll always say that—and as for me I don’t think she ever suspected -anything of that kind. Even if I had wanted to I never had any money, -and besides I’ve had to work too hard all my life for anything like -that. Then when I went to the lawyer he said it would cost fifty -dollars, but I hadn’t any fifty dollars. So we made up our minds to try -it again. I don’t see, though, why they charge fifty dollars. If a -divorce is right a man ought not to have it just because he’s got fifty -dollars when a poor man can’t get it at all. - -“It was a little better for a while. We both had a scare and then when -we talked of quittin’ I s’pose we thought more of each other. Anyhow -we’d lived together so long that we’d kind of got in the habit of it. -But still it didn’t last long; I don’t believe ‘twas right for us to -stay together after all that had happened and the way we felt and had -lived up to that time. If we’d only separated then—but we didn’t, and -it’s no use talkin’ about it now. - -“It was just about this time that Jimmy Carroll was killed and she -didn’t want me to work in the yards after that. She was ‘most as ‘fraid -as I was so we made up our minds that I’d quit. It was then that I went -to peddlin’; but wait a minute before I tell that, let’s go and speak to -the guard.” - -The two men got up and went to the iron door and looked out through the -bars at the shining electric lights in the corridors. The guard sat near -the door talking with the prisoner in the next cell. He looked up and -put two cigars through the grates. - -“Is there anything I can do for you, Jackson?” - -“No, I guess not. Nothin’ more has come from him, has there?” - -“No, but it’s early yet.” - -“Well, I guess it’s no use.” - -The men looked out a moment at the iron corridor and then lighted their -cigars and sat down. Hank could hardly speak. Somehow this simple -contact with his old friend had driven away all the feeling of the crime -that he had brought with him to the jail. He no longer thought of him as -Jackson, the wife-murderer, but as Jim, the boy he once knew and the man -that had worked in the switch-yards and grown up by his side. - -Out in the street they heard a steady stream of carriages and the merry -laugh of men and women passing by. Hank listened to the voices and asked -who they were. - -“Oh, the people drivin’ past in their carriages to the theater. You know -all the northside swells drive down Dearborn Avenue past the jail. I -wonder if they ever think of us in here, or if they know what is goin’ -to be done tomorrow. I s’pose if they do they think it’s all right. What -a queer world it is. Do you s’pose one of them was ever in here? Well, I -don’t believe I’d be either if only I’d had their chance.” - -The two men sat stripped almost to the skin; the putrid prison air -soaked into Hank at every pore. The sweat ran from his face and he felt -as if the great jail were a big oven filled with the damned and kept -boiling hot by some infernal imps. Here and there along the big -corridors they heard the echo of a half demoniac laugh, a few couplets -of a ribald song, and the echoing sound of the heavy boots of a guard -walking up and down the iron floor. Silently they smoked their cigars -almost to the end and then Jim again took up his story. - - - - - III - - -When I made up my mind to quit the railroad I looked ‘round for -somethin’ else to do. It was kind of hard times just then and a good -many were out of work and I couldn’t find anything that suited me. Of -course I never had much schoolin’ and ‘twa’n’t every kind of job I could -hold anyhow. I went back out to the stock yards, but they was layin’ off -men and there wa’n’t anything there. One mornin’ I went over to see Sol -Goldstein. He was a nice old man that we used to buy potatoes of. He -told me that he was gettin’ so old and kind of sick that he thought he’d -have to give up peddlin’ and let his boys take care of him the rest of -his time. He said he didn’t think it would be very long anyhow, and they -could do that much for him so long as he’d done so much for them. He -said as I hadn’t any job why didn’t I buy his horse and express wagon -and go to peddlin’. I could take his license, that hadn’t run out yet, -and go right along over his route. I told him I hadn’t any money to buy -his horse and wagon with, but he told me that didn’t make any -difference, I could pay for ‘em when I earnt the money. So I made a -bargain; got the horse and wagon and harness and two old blankets for -fifty dollars. Of course they wa’n’t worth much: the horse had a -ringbone and the heaves and kind of limped in one of its hind legs. -Goldstein said that was on account of a spavin, but he told me there was -another one comin’ on the other hind leg and as quick as that got a -little bigger he’d stop limpin’ because he couldn’t favor both hind legs -to once. Goldstein said the ringbone had been killed and the heaves -wouldn’t bother him much. All I had to do was to wet the hay before I -fed him. So I bought the rig. I didn’t know nothin’ about horses but I -knew what Goldstein said was all right for we’d been friends a long -time. - -“I went down to Water Street and bought a load of potatoes and went to -work. I haven’t time to tell you all about my peddlin’: anyhow it ain’t -got much to do with the case, not much more’n any of the rest. My lawyer -always said any time I told him anything, ‘Well, what’s that got to do -with your killin’ her?’ and the judge said about the same thing whenever -we asked any questions. He couldn’t see that anything I ever done had -anything to do with it except the bad things. He let ‘em prove all of -them and they looked a good deal worse when they was told in court and -in the newspapers than they seemed when I done ‘em. I guess there ain’t -nobody who’d like to hear every bad thing they ever done told right out -in public and printed in the newspapers. I kind of think ‘twould ruin -anyone’s character to do that, ‘specially if you wa’n’t allowed to show -the goods things you’d done. - -“I hadn’t been peddlin’ very long until an inspector asked me for my -license and I showed it to him, and he said that it wa’n’t any good, -that I couldn’t use Goldstein’s license; that it was just for him, and -that I must stop peddlin’ until I went down to the City Hall and paid -twenty-five dollars for another one. I didn’t know where to get the -twenty-five dollars; anyhow I don’t see why anyone should have to pay a -license for peddlin’; nobody but poor people peddles and it’s hard -enough to get along without payin’ a license. Anybody don’t have to pay -a license for sellin’ things in a store and I don’t think it’s fair. But -I went and seen the alderman and told him about it, and he said he could -get it fixed and to go right on just as if nothin’ had happened and if -anyone bothered me again to send ‘em to him. So I went right ahead. I -don’t know what he done but anyhow I wa’n’t bothered any more until -Goldstein’s license had run out. - -“Peddlin’ is kind of hard work. You’ve got to get up before daylight and -go down and get your potatoes and veg’t’bles and things, then you have -to drive all over and ask everyone to buy, and most people won’t take -anything from you ‘cause you’re a peddler and they’re ‘fraid you’ll -cheat ‘em. Of course we do cheat a little sometimes. We get a load of -potatoes cheap that’s been froze, and then again we get a lot of figs -that’s full of worms and roll ‘em in flour and then sell ‘em out, but -all figs is full of worms, and I guess ‘most everything else is, even -water, but it’s all right if you don’t know or think anything about it. -And of course, half of the year it’s awful hot drivin’ ‘round the -streets and the other half it’s awful cold, and sometimes it rains and -snows and you get all wet and cold, and it ain’t very healthy either. -Most peddlers have the consumption, but then there’s lots of poor people -has consumption. It’s funny, too, about where you can sell stuff; you’d -think you ought to go where people has got money but this ain’t no use; -they never will buy nothin’ of peddlers and they won’t even let you -drive on their high-toned streets, even after you’ve paid a license. If -you want to sell anything you’ve got to go among the poor people. Of -course they can’t buy very much, but then they pay more for what they -get. It’s queer, ain’t it, the way things are fixed; them as works -hardest has to pay the most for what they eat, and gets the poorest -stuff at that. Did you ever go and look at one of them meat markets on -the south side? Do you s’pose that they’d take any of the meat that’s in -ours? They might buy it for their dogs and cats but they wouldn’t eat it -themselves. - -“Once in a while I used to take the kid along with me when I was sellin’ -things, and he always liked to go, but if it commenced to rain or turned -cold I had to go back with him, and then he always got tired before -night. So I didn’t take him very often. I kind of laid out to take him -when she done the washin’, so he’d be out of her way, and he used to -kind of like to drive, and I amused him a good deal that way. - -“I think mebbe I made about as much peddlin’ as I did on the railroad, -but not any more, after I paid for my horse feed and the rent of the -barn and gettin’ the wagon and harness fixed once in a while. Anyhow I -didn’t get out of debt any faster, and the furniture men kept -threatenin’ me until I went to one of them chattel-mortgage fellers and -borrowed the money and mortgaged all I had and paid five dollars for -makin’ out the papers and five percent a month for the money. This -didn’t seem like so very much but it counts up pretty fast when you come -to pay it every month. Then one day my horse up and died. I didn’t know -what was the matter with him. He seemed all right at night and in the -mornin’ he was dead. I didn’t know what to do at first so I went and -seen the alderman. He gave me a letter to some men who run a -renderin’-plant and I went out there and bought an old horse for five -dollars. It was one they was goin’ to kill, and it seemed too bad to -make him work any more; still I guess he’d rather work than be killed; -that’s the way with people and I guess horses is about like people. I -always thought that horses had about the worst time there is; they can’t -never do anything they want to, they have to get up just when you tell -‘em to and be tied in a stall and eat just what you give ‘em and depend -on you to bring ‘em water. Even when they’re goin’ along the road they -can’t turn out for a mud hole but have to go just where you want ‘em to -and never have a chance to do anything but work. - -“This horse wa’n’t much good but I managed to use him in my business. -The boys would holler at me and ask me if I was goin’ to the bone-yard -or the renderin’-plant, and once or twice one of the humane-officers -stopped me and came pretty near takin’ it away and killin’ it, but -nobody ever saw me abusin’ it, and I fed it all I could afford. I -remember one night in the winter, about the coldest night we had, I -heard it stampin’ and I couldn’t go to sleep. I knew it was stampin’ -because it was so cold. We didn’t have any too much cover ourselves, but -it worried me so much I got up and went out to the barn and strapped an -old blanket on the horse and then came back and went to bed. I guess -this was the other horse though, the one that died, for I didn’t have -this last one over a winter. But I don’t know as it makes any difference -which horse it was. - -“Well, I can’t tell you all about my peddlin’, it ain’t worth while, and -I must go on and tell you about how it happened. It was on the 26th day -of November. You remember the day. There’s been a lot said about it in -the newspapers. It was just three days before Thanksgivin’. I remember I -was thinkin’ of Thanksgivin’, for we’d been livin’ pretty poorly, not -very much but potatoes, for it was a rather hard fall on all us poor -folks. I always hated to take the money for the things I sold but I -couldn’t help it. You know I couldn’t give things away as if I was -Rockefeller or Vanderbilt. Well, I knew we was goin’ to get a turkey -from the alderman Thanksgivin’, just two days later, and I should have -thought that would have cheered me up, but it didn’t. That mornin’ it -was pretty cold when I got up. It was the first snow of the season, one -of them blindin’, freezin’ days that we get in November, and then, of -course, I wa’n’t used to the cold weather and wa’n’t dressed for it -either. I didn’t have much breakfast for we didn’t have much stuff in -the house. She got up and fried some potatoes and a little pork and that -was about all, and then I hitched up the old horse and drove away. No -one else was on the street. There wa’n’t generally, when I started after -my loads in the mornin’. The old horse didn’t like to go either; he kind -of pulled back on the hitch strap when I led him out of the barn, the -way you sometimes see horses do when they hate to go anywhere or leave -the barn. I s’pose horses is just like us about bein’ lazy and sick, and -havin’ their mean days, only they can’t do anything about it. Well, I -went down and got my load. In the first place I had some trouble with -the Dago where I got the potatoes; they were pretty good ones but had -been nipped a little by the frost in the car, and he couldn’t have sold -‘em to the stores, at least to any of the stores on the north side or -the south side. They was just such potatoes as had to go to us poor -folks and most likely to peddlers, and he wanted to charge me just about -as much as if they was all right. I told him that I’d some trouble in -sellin’ ‘em and I ought to make somethin’ off’n ‘em. He said I’d get -just as much as I could for any kind, and I told him that I might -possibly, but if I was goin’ to pay full price I wanted my customers to -have just as good potatoes as anyone got, and besides I might lose some -of my customers by sellin’ them that kind of potatoes. Then he dunned me -for what I owed him and threatened not to trust me any more and by the -time I left with my load I was worried and out of sorts, and made a poor -start for the day. - -“Well, I drove over along Bunker Street, among the sheeneys, and -commenced calling ‘po-ta-toes.’ Nobody much seemed to buy. A few people -came out and picked ‘em all over and tried to jew me down, and mebbe -bought half a peck. I don’t know how they thought I could make any money -that way. Still the people was all poor; most of ‘em worked in the -sweat-shops and hadn’t any money to waste on luxuries. I worked down -Maxwell Street and things didn’t get much better. It seemed as if -everybody was out there sellin’ potatoes, and it was awful cold, and I -hadn’t any coat on, and the horse was shiverin’ every time we stopped. -Of coarse I always put the blanket on him if we stayed long, but the -blanket was pretty old and patched. Then I drove down south, where the -people lives that work in the stock yards. It went some better down -there but not very much; anyhow I didn’t get any warmer. Along toward -noon I hitched the horse under a shed and gave him a few oats and I went -into the saloon and bought a glass of whiskey and took four or five of -them long red-hots that they keep on the counter. They tasted pretty -good and I never stopped to think what they was made of; whether they -was beef, or pork, or horse, or what, though you know everybody always -says they work in all the old horses that don’t go to the -renderin’-plant and some that does, but they was good enough for me and -was hot, and when I went away I felt better and I guess the old horse -did, too. Well, I drove on down around the streets and did the best I -could. I remember one place where an old lady came out and said she -hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday and there wa’n’t nothin’ in -the house, and I up and gave her half a peck, though I couldn’t hardly -afford to do it. You know that half a peck was more to me than it is to -Rockefeller when he gives a million to the school, but my lawyer -wouldn’t let me prove it when I tried; he said the judge would only -laugh if he ever mentioned it. The newspapers never printed a word about -it either, although I kind of thought it might lighten up the people’s -feelin’ some and help me a bit; but they did prove all about the time I -struck her and some other things I wa’n’t on trial for, although my -lawyer objected all he could and said I wa’n’t on trial for ‘em, which I -wa’n’t; but the judge said no, of course I wa’n’t, but they’d show -malice, so they went in and was printed in the newspapers, and the jury -looked awful at me, but I bet every one of ‘em had done most as bad. -When I gave the old woman the half peck of potatoes she called on all -the saints to bless me to the end of my days. I felt kind of better as I -went away, and thought mebbe they’d do somethin’ for me, and this wa’n’t -more than seven or eight hours before it happened. - -“Of course, most folks would think that anyone like me wouldn’t have -given away a half a peck of potatoes, but they don’t really understand -them things; you’ve got to do a thing before you can know all about it. -If I was makin’ the laws I wouldn’t let anyone be on a jury and try a -feller for murder unless he’d killed someone. Most fellers don’t know -anything about how anyone kills a person and why they do it, and they -ain’t fit to judge. Now, of course, most everybody would think that -anyone who had killed anyone, unless it was in war or somethin’ like -that, was bad through and through; they wouldn’t think that they could -ever do anything good; but here I give away that half peck of potatoes -just because I knew the lady was poor and needed ‘em—and I see things -every day here in jail that shows it ain’t so. Just a little while ago -one of the prisoners was took down with small-pox and everyone was -scared, and another prisoner who was in here for burglary went to the -ward and nursed him and took care of him, and took the disease and died. -And most all of the fellers will do anything for each other. The other -day there were five fellers on trial for robbin’ a safe, and the State’s -Attorney done all he could to get one of ‘em to tell on another feller -who hadn’t been caught or indicted, and he promised every one of ‘em -that he wouldn’t do a thing with ‘em if they’d tell, and he couldn’t get -a word out of any of ‘em, and they went to the penitentiary, just -because they wouldn’t tell; and the State Attorney and the judge all of -‘em seemed to think that if they could get one feller to tell on someone -else that he’d be the best one of the lot and ought to be let out. If -you’d just stay here a few days and see some of the wives and fathers -and mothers come into the jail and see how they’d cry and go on over -some of these people, and tell how good they was to them, it would open -your eyes. They ain’t one of them people, unless it’s me, that don’t -have someone that loves ‘em, and says they’ve been awful good to ‘em and -feel sorry for ‘em and excuses ‘em, and thinks they’re just like -everybody else. Now there was them car-barn murderers that killed so -many people and robbed so much. Everyone wanted to tear ‘em to pieces -and no one had a single good word for ‘em, but you’d ought to seen Van -Dine’s mother and how she hung on to her boy and cried about him and -loved him and told how many good thing’s he done, just like anyone else; -and then that Niedemeyer, who tried to kill himself so he couldn’t get -hung, you know he went to a detective and confessed a lot of crimes, so -that the detective could get the money after he was hung, and the -detective agreed to divide the money with his mother. If you was here a -while you’d find these fellers doin’ just as many things to help each -other as the people on the outside. It’s funny how human nature is, how -anybody can be so good and so bad too. Now I s’pose most people outside -can’t see how a murderer or a burglar can do anything good any more than -the poor people down our way can see how Rockefeller can charge all of -us so much for his oil and then give a million dollars to a church or a -school. - -“There was feller came over here to the jail to talk to our Moral -Improvement Club and he had some queer ideas. Most of the prisoners -rather liked what he said and still they thought he was too radical. I -never heard any such talk before and I don’t quite see how they let him -do it, but I’ve thought about what he said a good deal since then and -think mebbe there’s somethin’ in it. He was a good deal different from -the other ones that come. Most of ‘em tell us about our souls and how we -can all make ‘em white if we only will. They all tell us that we are a -bad lot now; but he kind of claimed that the people inside the jail was -just like the people outside, only not so lucky; that we done things -because we couldn’t help it and had to do ‘em, and that it’s worse for -the people on the outside to punish the people on the inside than to do -the things we done. Now, I hain’t had anything to do but think about it -and what I done, and it don’t seem as if I could help it. I never -intended to kill anybody but somehow everything just led up to it, and I -didn’t know I was gettin’ into it until it was done, and now here I am. -Of course, when I was out I used to rail about these criminals and think -they was awful bad just the same as everyone else did, but now I see how -they got into it too, and how mebbe they ain’t so bad; even them -car-barn murderers,—if they’d been taken somewhere out west on a ranch -where they could have had lots of air and exercise and not put in school -which wa’n’t the place for boys like them, I believe they’d ‘ve come out -all right and been like most other boys and sobered down after they got -older. I really think if they’d been taken away they’d ‘ve tried to be -good and if they’d been given plenty of exercise, like herdin’ cattle -and things like that, mebbe it would have been just as good as to kill -‘em. Anyhow there was them Younger boys and Frank James who killed so -many people and they are out now and all right. Nobody’s afraid of ‘em -and they won’t likely never do anything of that kind any more. - -“But I’m gettin’ clear off’n my subject again, just as I always am. I -was tellin’ you about that day. Well, after I gave the lady the half -peck of potatoes I went on peddlin’, but didn’t seem to sell much. I -ought to ‘ve got through by two or three o’clock. It was a long enough -day for me, and the horse, too, but I had so many potatoes left that I -couldn’t stop, so I kept on. I got down around Thirty-fifth Street and -was pretty cold and went into a saloon where I saw one of the boys. One -of ‘em was runnin’ for the legislature and he asked us all to take a -drink, and of course we did; then he asked us to take another and we -done that; and in a few minutes that feller that was runnin’ for the -senate, he come in and he asked us all to take a drink and of course we -done that, and he said a few words about the election and how he hoped -we all would vote for him, and we told him we would, and that as near as -we could find out all the boys was with him, that the other feller was a -kind of stiff anyhow. He went out, and then, just as I was leavin’, the -feller that was runnin’ against him, he come in and he set ‘em up a -couple of times and said he hoped we was all with him, and of course we -told him we was, and then he went away. Well, of course, I took whiskey -every time because I was cold and that kind of warmed me up. Then I went -out to the wagon again and drove on down Thirty-fifth Street to sell the -rest of the potatoes. Finally the horse began to go lame, and seemed -pretty tired, and I turned back toward the house, peddlin’ on the way. I -guess I didn’t sell anything after I left Thirty-fifth Street, though I -kept callin’ out until my voice got kind of husky and all stopped up. I -guess it was the cold air that I wa’n’t used to yet. The snow was comin’ -down pretty fast as I drove along and the wind was blowin’ quite a bit -in my face and it was a bad night. It commenced gettin’ dark pretty soon -after. You know the days are short along the last of November. - -“Then I kep’ thinkin’ about the cold weather. I always hated winter -anyhow, and I hadn’t expected ‘twould turn cold quite so quick and of -course I wa’n’t ready for it. I couldn’t seem to think of anything but -the winter. I s’pose that was the reason I done the things I did -afterward. I got to thinkin’ about the house and how many cracks there -was in it and how much coal it took to heat it. Then I began to think -about the price of coal and how it’s cheaper in the summer than in the -winter, and how the price keeps goin’ up so much a month all the time -until winter, so, of course, all the rich people can get their coal in -the summer when it was cheap and leave the poor people to get it in the -winter when it got high. Then I thought how everything seemed to be -against the poor and how you couldn’t get on no matter what you done. - -“I hadn’t got my potatoes more’n two-thirds sold out and I didn’t have -any good place to keep ‘em. I couldn’t afford to take chances of ‘em -gettin’ frost-bitten any more. You know how easy potatoes freeze. You -have to watch out while you’re peddlin’ ‘em in the fall and winter and -some days you don’t dare take ‘em out at all. Before I got home I -thought I’d have another drink so I stopped at a saloon where they -always had the pollin’ place and where a good many politicians usually -hung out; and I found some of the boys there, and the fellow that was -runnin’ for assessor was in the saloon. He asked us all to drink a -couple o’ times, and then he told us how easy he was in assessin’ the -poor people’s property, and asked us to vote for him. We all said we -would, and then he told us how he was assessor last year and how he’d -stuck it onto the rich people and the corporations and how they was all -against him this year. We all liked that, and then he gave us another -drink. I was gettin’ so I felt it just a little, but of course I wa’n’t -drunk. I could walk all right and talk pretty straight. I don’t suppose -I’d taken more’n ten or twelve drinks in all day, and you know that -won’t hurt anybody. I don’t know what I would’ve done such a cold day if -it hadn’t been for the drinks. Oh, yes, in the last place they got to -talkin’ about the alderman and said as how he wa’n’t goin’ to give out -any turkeys this year. I didn’t like that and some of the fellers had -quarreled about ‘em and then some of ‘em had been givin’ ‘em to us and -we didn’t see what right he had to quit. They said the reason he wa’n’t -goin’ to give ‘em was because a lot of the fellers had quarreled about -‘em and then some of ‘em had taken his turkeys and voted the other -ticket, and some people had found fault with him because they didn’t get -any turkey, and it looked as if he was losin’ votes instead of makin’ -‘em. Well, I’d been dependin’ on the turkey and it made me feel a little -blue, for I didn’t know how I was goin’ to get anything for -Thanksgivin’, and I didn’t think that you could have much of a -Thanksgivin’ just on potatoes and mebbe a little pork. So I wa’n’t -feelin’ none to good when I got on the wagon and drove away from the -last place. It seemed as if everything had turned against me and I -didn’t know what I was goin’ to do. It’s funny how much difference luck -makes with a feller. You know somethin’ can happen in the mornin’ and -make you feel good all day, and then again somethin’ will go wrong and -no matter what you are doin’ it seems as if there was a sort of a weight -pullin’ down on you. Well, I felt kind of blue as I drove home. I don’t -think I could hardly have kept up only for the whiskey I’d drunk. I was -kind of wonderin’ what it was all for and I didn’t see any reason for -anything, or any chance that anything would be any better, or any real -reason for livin’. - -“Before I went to the house I drove up to the barn and unhitched the -horse and led him in, and then I run the wagon in, and took the potatoes -out and put ‘em under a little bag of hay that I had in the corner, and -threw the horse blanket over ‘em. Then I unharnessed the horse and -bedded him down and gave him some hay and a little oats. I’d watered him -at one of the last places I stopped—one of them troughs they have in -front of saloons. Then after I got the horse tended to I went into the -house.” - - * * * * * - -Hank got up and went to the door and spoke to the guard. He was still -sitting on the stool and talking to the prisoner in the next cell. Once -more he handed Hank a cigar. - -“Give one to Jim,” he said. “I can’t do much more for him, poor devil; -I’m awful sorry.” - -Jim came up and took the cigar and looked down at the guard. - -“I don’t s’pose nothin’ has come for me, has there?” - -“No, not yet,” was the answer. - -“Well, I presume it’s’ no use.” - -Just then the noise of pounding and driving nails and low voices was -heard over in the court yard. - -“What’s that?” Hank asked. - -“Don’t you know! That’s the fellers buildin’ the scaffold; they always -do it the night before. Strange, ain’t it; somehow it don’t seem to me -as if it was really me that was goin’ to be hung on it; but I s’pose it -is. Now, isn’t it strange about the governor; just one word from him -could save my life. I’d think he’d do it, wouldn’t you? I s’pose he -don’t really think how it seems to me. I know I’d do it, no matter what -anyone had done. - -“But it’s gettin’ late and I must go on with my story or I won’t get it -finished before—before you have to go. It’s pretty hard to tell all -‘bout this part, but I’m goin’ to tell it to you honest and not make -myself any better’n I am. I’ve thought about this a good deal when I’ve -tried to account for how I done it, and I guess I can tell everything -that happened. When I look at it now it seems years ago, almost a -lifetime, not as if it was last November. I guess it’s because so much -has happened since then. It seems, too, as if it wa’n’t me that was -doin’ it, but as if ‘twas someone else. I guess that’ll make it easier -for me to tell; anyhow, I want you to know how it was, and then some -time you can tell the boy, if you think it’s the right thing to do.” - - - - - IV - - -I forgot to tell you about the steak. I don’t see how I left that out, -for, really, that’s what caused the whole trouble. It beats all what -little things will do, don’t it? Now, lots o’ times in my life it has -seemed as if the smallest things had the most to do with me. There was -that red waist, for instance, that she wore that day she was waitin’ on -the table. I ‘most know I never would have paid any attention to her if -it hadn’t been for that red waist. And then that beefsteak—in one way -I’m goin’ to get hung on account of that beefsteak. How many times since -that I’ve just wished I hadn’t stopped and bought it. But you see I was -feelin’ cold all day, and when I come ‘round Thirty-fifth Street the -wind kind of got in my face worse’n it had done before, and it sort of -struck me through the chest too; my legs didn’t feel it quite so much, -because they had the blanket over ‘em. Well, just as I got up to the -second corner there was a saloon right in front of me. This was before I -got to the corner when I met the senators, and I thought I’d go in and -get a drink; and then right on the other side was that meat market and -there was a lot of chickens and steak and things hangin’ in the window, -and they looked mighty good, for I hadn’t had much to eat all day. At -first I thought I’d go and get a drink, and then I thought I could get -enough steak for supper for just about what the drink would cost, and -the steak would do the most good, and besides she and the kid could have -some of that, and I thought it would make her feel pleasanter and liven -her up a bit. We hadn’t been gettin’ along any too well for some time. - -“So I pulled up the horse a minute and went into the shop and asked the -butcher about the steak hangin’ in the window, and he told me that it -was sixteen cents a pound and that it was a sirloin steak. I thought -that was most too much and asked him if he hadn’t some cheaper kind. He -said yes, that a rump steak was just as good, and he showed me one of -them and the whole piece came to fifteen cents—just the price of a glass -of whiskey—and I bought it and rolled it up in a piece of brown paper -and went away. - -“Now I was tellin’ about this to the good guard that likes to get -statistics for the Citizens’ Association, and I told him it was the -beefsteak that brought me here, and that if I had only got the whisky -instead of the steak it wouldn’t have happened, but he argued the other -way, and then when I stuck to my story he got kind of mad about it and -said it was them drinks I had with the senators and the assessor that -really done it, and if it hadn’t been for the drinks I’d have known -better, and he said he was goin’ to put it down that way, and I’m sure -he did. I hain’t no doubt but a good many of the figgers we see about -penitentiaries and things is got up the same way. - -“Well, when I unhitched the horse and got him tended to and the potatoes -covered up and all, I took the steak and started for the house. You know -where I live—the barn is just back of the cottage, and there’s a kind of -little alley behind the barn and then the switch-yards come in; the -railroad curves up toward the house after it passes the barn so it gets -pretty near the kitchen. Of course, the trains bother us a good deal and -the switch engines are goin’ back and forth all the time, and the house -is pretty old and not very big, but all them things has to be taken into -consideration in the rent, and I got it enough cheaper to make up. I -presume that’s the reason no poor people live out on the avenues, -because the rents is so high, and in one way mebbe the switch tracks is -a good thing, for if it wa’n’t for them I’d had to go out to the stock -yards to live, and I’d rather have the engines and the smoke than the -smell. Some of them Settlement people are tryin’ to have a park made, -out along the tracks right close to where we lived. Of course, flowers -and grass would be nice, but I s’pose if they got the park some fellers -would come along and pay more rent than we could afford and then we’d -have to go out to the stock yards. It seems as if us poor people gets -the worst of it no matter how you fix it. But I’m takin’ an awful long -while to get into the house; seems as if I’m tellin’ you everything I’ve -thought of ever since I’ve been locked up here in jail. It’s mighty good -of you to set and listen, and I’ll always remember it as long as I live, -though I guess that ain’t sayin’ much. - -“When I come up to the door I heard the kid cryin’ and she was scoldin’ -him about somethin’ he’d done and tellin’ him to go in the bedroom and -stay till supper was ready and to quit his squallin’ or she’d thrash -him. Of course, generally, she was good to him, and I don’t mean to say -she wa’n’t, but sometimes she got out of patience with him, same as all -women does, I s’pose. Of course you have to make allowances for her. She -dassent let the boy go to play back of the house, for there was the -yards and the cars, and you know children always goes ‘round cars; then -she couldn’t let him go in front for the electric road was there, and -you know about that little boy bein’ run over a year ago down at the -corner. Then there’s buildin’s on both sides of us, so she had to have -the kid right in the house all the time less’n she went out with him, -and of course he got kind of tired settin’ in the house all day with -nothin’ to do but look out in front and see the switch engines. Still I -sometimes thought she was crosser to him than she ought to have been at -that. - -“When I opened the door she was just takin’ the boy into the bedroom. In -a minute she come out and kind of slammed the door hard, and said, -‘Well, you’ve got home, have you?’ I said yes, I’d got home. That’s -every word I said. Then she said it was a pity that them drunken friends -of mine couldn’t keep me out all night spendin’ the money for whisky -that I ought to use in the house. I told her that I hadn’t spent no -money for whisky. She said ‘Yes, your face looks it, and your breath -smells it.’ Then I told her that I did take one drink but the assessor -bought it for me. Then she landed into the assessor, and told me I was -in pretty company goin’ ‘round with him; that Mrs. McGinty had told her -all about what kind of a man he was and she didn’t want to hear any more -about him. Then I asked her about when supper would be ready, and she -said she hadn’t begun to get it yet, that she’d been doin’ the washin’ -and had that brat of mine to take care of all day, and she’d get the -supper when she got ready. Of course I was hungry and cold, and that -made me kind of mad, only I didn’t say much, but laid the beefsteak on -the table and unrolled it so’s she could see it. I thought mebbe that -would kind of tempt her, and I told her she’d better cook it and fry a -few potatoes. She made some remark about the steak, and about how I’d -better got a soup bone, or a chicken, or somethin’ cheaper, and no -wonder I was in debt with all the money I spent for whisky, and when I -did bring anything home to eat it had to be somethin’ that cost a good -deal more’n I could afford. Then I said that this was a rump steak and -only cost fifteen cents, and she said I could get a soup bone that -weighed six or seven pounds for that, and I hadn’t any business to throw -away my money. Then she kind of stopped for a few minutes and took the -steak out into the kitchen. Where we’d been was in the settin’ room. I -went in to see the kid a few minutes and kind of quieted him down, and -so long as he laid on the bed and seemed kind of like as if he’d go to -sleep I shut the bedroom door and come out again. Then I picked up the -paper and read about the alderman not goin’ to run any more, and that -was the real reason why he wa’n’t goin’ to give us any more turkeys; -then I looked at the sportin’ page and then I read a long story about a -feller that had killed someone and left ‘em dead in the house, and then -run away, and how they’d found ‘em dead and had offered a thousand -dollars reward for the feller who killed the other one. Then I read -about a murder trial that they was just havin’ and how the jury had -found the feller guilty and he was goin’ to be hung, and how he never -moved a muscle, and how his mother screamed and fell over in a swoond -when the clerk read the verdict. While I was readin’ she kept comin’ out -and into the settin’ room, bringin’ dishes and things to set the table. -You know we generally et in the settin’ room. Ev’ry time she come in she -kind of glared at me, but I let on not to notice her. - -“Pretty soon I smelt the steak fryin’ and went out in the kitchen. When -I got out there I found the steak fryin’ in the skillet all right and -her just takin’ up the tea kettle to pour water on it. Now this made me -mad, for that wa’n’t no way to fry steak. You know yourself that you -lose all the flavor of the steak by pourin’ water on it; that makes it -more like boiled meat than it does like beefsteak. I just saw her in -time, and I called out, ‘What are you doin’? Put down that kettle. Don’t -you know better’n to pour water on beefsteak?’ She said, ‘You shut up -and go back in the settin’ room, or I’ll pour the water on you.’ I said, -‘No, you won’t; put down that kettle. How many times have I told you -better’n to pour water on steak? It’s hard enough for me to get the -money for a steak without lettin’ you spoil it that way.’ I started to -grab her hand, but before I could reach it she tipped the nozzle over -into the skillet and poured a lot of water in, and the steam and hot -water and grease kind of spattered up in my face. I don’t know whether I -struck her or not; anyhow I grabbed the kettle, and when the nozzle -turned round some of the hot water got onto me, and burned me a little. -I put the kettle down and said, ‘Damn you, what do you mean by spoilin’ -the steak every time I get it? If you ever do a thing like that again, -I’ll cut your throat.’ - -“Now, of course, I hadn’t no idea of cuttin’ her throat, no matter how -often she done it. ‘Twas just a way I had of showin’ how mad I was about -what she’d done. You see she done it a-purpose for I’d told her plenty -of times before, and I told her then before any of the water got into -the skillet, and she just poured it in to spite me. Then she said, ‘You -drunken loafer, I’d like to see you try to cut my throat. I just dare -you to do it. You don’t need to wait until you bring home another steak; -ain’t likely I’ll be here by the time you bring home any more steak. I -don’t care what the Settlement people and the priest say about it, I’m -going to quit you. I’ve stood this thing just as long as I’m goin’ to,’ -and she fairly screamed, just on purpose, so the neighbors could hear. - -“Now I didn’t want them to know we was fightin’, and I seen that she was -so mad she couldn’t control herself and didn’t care who heard or what -happened. The neighbors had come in once before, but they’d got pretty -well used to our fights. But I thought it had gone about far enough and -the steak couldn’t be helped, so I went back into the settin’ room and -picked up the paper. In a few minutes she come in and says, ‘Well, come, -your old steak’s ready, you’ve made so much fuss about it you’d better -come and eat it and let it shut your mouth.’ And she went on into the -bedroom and got the kid. I drew up my chair and set down to the table. -She put the kid into the high chair and then she set down on the other -side. I cut up the steak and give each of ‘em a piece with some fried -potatoes, then we had some bread and butter and some tea. She poured out -the tea and handed me a cup. There wa’n’t any milk for the tea and I -asked her why that was. She told me she didn’t have any money to buy -tickets, and if I wanted milk I’d better leave some money to buy tickets -instead of spending it all for whiskey. I didn’t make much of any answer -to this but commenced eatin’ my steak. Besides bein’ boiled it was -cooked almost to a crisp, and you couldn’t hardly tell whether it was -beefsteak or what it was; all the taste was out of it and gone into the -water and the steam. I put some of the gravy on the potatoes; this was -better’n the steak and tasted more like beef. I et up the potatoes and -the steak and a few pieces of bread and butter, and cut up the kid’s -steak and showed him how to hold his knife so’s to eat without cuttin’ -himself, and I didn’t say a word to her and she didn’t say a word to me. -Of course, I could see by the way she looked that she was mad, and I -presume she could see that I was, too; and probably both of us thought -it was just as well not to say anything, ‘specially so long as the kid -was there. All the time I was eatin’ I kept thinkin’ about the way she’d -poured the water into the steak and spoilt it, and how I’d been lookin’ -forward to it ever since I bought it on Thirty-fifth Street, and the -more I thought of it the madder I got. If it had been the first time I -don’t think I’d have minded it near so much, but I’d told her about it -ev’ry time I brought home a steak, and it seemed as if always we had a -row pretty near as big as this, and every time she managed to pour the -water into it and spoil it in spite of all that I could do. And this -time it had been just the same thing again. Anyone would have been mad -if they’d been in my place; don’t you think so yourself? - -“Well, I finished my supper without sayin’ a word to her, and she didn’t -say a word to me, and then I got up and went back into the settin’ room -and picked up the paper and commenced readin’ again. In a minute she -come along through with the kid and took him into the bedroom to put him -to bed. After she’d been in there a while she came out and shut the -door, and stood up for a minute lookin’ over toward me. I thought she -was waitin’ for me to speak, so I just kept my eyes on the paper like as -if I was readin’, but I wa’n’t. I hadn’t cooled off a great deal since -she poured the water on the steak, and could see that she hadn’t -neither, so I thought mebbe it was as well to have it out, but I was -goin’ to wait for her to begin. Of course, I hadn’t no idea then of -doin’ anything like what I did. I was just mad and reckless and didn’t -care much, and would keep thinkin’ of the steak, and you know all the -time I was thinkin’ I could feel a kind of prickin’ up in my head, as if -a lot of needles was runnin’ up toward my hair. I s’pose it was the -blood runnin’ up there. That feller that I told you about that was -talkin’ to us over here kind of made out that a man was a good deal like -a machine, or an engine of some kind, and when the steam was turned on -he had to go. He said that if the blood was pumped up in the head it -made us do things; it made some people write poetry, and some make -speeches, and some sing, and some fight, and some kill folks, and they -couldn’t really help it if they was made that way and the blood got -pumped up in the head. I believe there’s a good deal in it. You know -when the blood don’t circulate down in your feet they get cold and kind -of dead, and then if you put ‘em into a pail of hot water or even cold -water, and then rub ‘em hard with a towel, they get prickly and red, and -you can feel the blood comin’ back to ‘em and feel ‘em wake up again. - -“Well, I set perfectly still while she stood by the mantel-piece. First -she picked up one thing and then another and kind of dusted ‘em and put -‘em back. She done this till she had dusted ever’thing on the -mantel-piece, and all the time she would be lookin’ over toward me, but -I kept my eyes down on the paper and pretended to be readin’. I knew -that she didn’t dust the things because she wanted to dust, for she -always dusted in the mornin’ just after she swept. I knew she did it -because she was nervous and mad, and was waitin’ for me to begin. Of -course, sometimes when you are mad the longer you wait the more you get -over it, and then sometimes the longer you wait the madder you get. It’s -like a boiler not usin’ any of its steam while the fire is goin’; if it -waits long enough somethin’s got to happen. - -“Finally, after she got everything dusted she looked over straight at me -and says, ‘Are you goin’ to read that paper all night?’ I told her I was -if I wanted to, that it was none of her business how long I read it; -there was a part of it that I’d like to give her to read if she wanted -to; it was the cookery department, and had a recipe for frying steak. Of -course, there wa’n’t no such thing in the paper, and I just made it up -and said it to be sassy, and I knew I shouldn’t have been throwin’ it up -to her, but I was so mad I really didn’t think how ‘twould sound. Then -she said she didn’t want any advice from me or the paper either, about -cookin’, and she wanted me to understand that the cookin’ was none of my -business and she’d tend to that herself in her own way, and if ever I -interfered again she’d leave me and take the kid with her. She said she -learned cookin’ long before she ever knew me. Then I said I thought she -could make money by startin’ a cookin’ school; all them rich folks on -Prairie Avenue would come over to get her to learn them how to fry -steak. She said she guessed she knew more ‘bout fryin’ steak than I did, -and when I boarded at the restaurant I was mighty glad to get steak -fried that way, and I only grumbled about it now because I was so mean -and didn’t know how to treat a woman, and a man like me never had no -right to have a decent wife. Then I said I wished I hadn’t; I’d be a -mighty sight better off by myself than livin’ with her and havin’ her -spoil everything that came in the house, and I wished I was back -boardin’ in the restaurant where she found me. She said I didn’t wish it -half so much as she did, that she got along a good deal better when she -was waitin’ on the table than she had since she married me; then she had -a chance to get out once in a while and see someone and have a good -time, but now she stayed to home from one year’s end to another lookin’ -after me and my brat. I told her I guessed the brat was just as much -hers as it was mine, and I didn’t think that was any way to speak about -the boy. Of course I really knew that she didn’t say it because she had -anything against him, but just because she was mad at me. She always -liked him, and I can’t make any complaint of the way she treated him, -and I want him to know it when we’re both dead, and I don’t want him to -get any idea that she wa’n’t perfectly square. I kind of want you to fix -it, if you can, so ‘twon’t look to him as if either of us was to blame, -but I guess that won’t be an easy thing to do. - -“Then I said she was mighty glad to give up the job she had at the -restaurant to marry me. She said I asked her to get married, that she -didn’t ask me. Then I told her that, of course, she didn’t ask me, but -she gave me a mighty good chance, and that I believed she just got that -red waist and fixed up her hair the way she did to ketch me, and when I -spoke to her about marryin’ it didn’t take her very long to throw up her -job, and take me so she could get supported without doin’ anything. Then -she said that if she spent any money to get that red waist to ketch me -she was throwin’ it away, and that if I thought she ever worked for -anyone else as hard as she did for me and my brat that I was mistaken, -and it didn’t make any difference what she done, I never gave her any -thanks or did anything for her. If I ever had any time I spent it with -them drunken loafers and politicians and never went anywhere with her; -that she wa’n’t no better’n a slave, and what was she doin’ it all for; -pretty soon she’d be old long before her time. Her looks was all gone -now, and she hadn’t even had a new dress for over a year. I told her -that I didn’t know what she wanted of looks, she never was a prize -beauty and ‘twa’n’t very like anybody’d ever be fool enough to marry her -again, if anything happened to me. And she said if she ever got rid of -me there wouldn’t be much danger of her marryin’ anyone else, she had -men enough to last as long as she lived; that all they ever thought of -was what they could get to eat and drink, that I’d made more fuss over -that miser’ble beefsteak than anyone would over their soul, and she -didn’t see why she ever stood it from me, and she was just as good as I -ever was and knew just as much, and worked a good deal harder, and -didn’t run ‘round nights and get drunk and spend all the money with a -lot of loafers, and be in debt all the time and have the collector -runnin’ after me. I told her I had just about enough of that kind of -talk, and wouldn’t stand no more of it from her; it was bad enough for -her to burn up the beefsteak and spoil it without blackguardin’ me and -callin’ me names; she was mighty glad to get the clothes and the grub I -bought her and to live in my house and have me work hard every day in -the cold to get money while she just stayed to home and played with the -kid, and if she said another word to me I’d smash her face. Then she -said, ‘Yes, you miserable wife-beater, you kicked me once, didn’t you, -but you needn’ think you can kick me or lay hands on me again. I ain’t -afraid of you nor any of your low-lived drunken crew!’ Then she kind of -reached back to the mantel and took hold of a plaster Paris lady I’d -bought of a peddler, just as if she was goin’ to throw it at me, same as -she throwed that dish once before. I seen what she was doin’ and I -grabbed her arm and said, ‘You damned bitch, don’t try that on me’; and -I gave her a kind of shove over toward a chair and she missed the chair -and fell on the floor. - -“Of course, you know I didn’t really mean anything when I called her a -damned bitch; that is, I didn’t mean any such thing as anyone might -think from them words. You know us fellers down to the yards don’t think -very much about usin’ that word, and we never really mean anything by -it. But I don’t think ‘twas a very nice word to use and have always been -sorry I said it, even if I did kill her. - -“Well, she jumped up off’n the floor and made towards the table, like -she’d grab a knife, and by this time I had a prickly feelin’ runnin’ all -through my head and up into my hair, and I didn’t really think of -anything but just about her and what she was doin’. I don’t believe I -even thought about the kid in there on the bed. Mebbe if I had I -wouldn’t have done it. - -“Well, when she made for the table that way, I just run over between her -and the table, and said, ‘Damn you, if you move another step I’ll knock -your damned brains out!’ Them’s the very words I said. I didn’t really -think what I’d do, but of course I was mad and didn’t mean to give up to -her, and wanted to show her who was boss, and that’s all I thought -about. Then she come right up to me and sort of throwed her arms back -behind her, and throwed her head back, and her hair hung down all kind -of loose, and her eyes glared like electric lights, and she looked right -at me and just yelled so I thought the people could hear her all over -the ward. And she said, ‘Kill me! you miserable drunken contemptible -wife-beater; kill me, I just dare you to kill me! Kill me if you want to -and then go in there and kill the boy, too; you’d better make a good job -of it while you’re at it! Kill me, you coward, why don’t you kill me?’ - -“Just then I happened to look down by the stove and seen the coal pail, -and there was the poker in the pail. The poker was long and heavy. Of -course I hadn’t ever thought anything about the poker, but I looked down -there and seen it, and she kept yellin’ right at me, ‘Kill me! Kill me!’ -I said: ‘Shut up your mouth, damn you, or I will kill you!’ But she just -yelled back, ‘Why don’t you do it! Kill me! Kill me! You miserable dirty -coward! Kill me!’ Then I looked down at the poker and I just reached and -grabbed it, and swung back as hard as ever I could. - -“Her face was kind of turned up toward me. I can see it now just as -plain—I s’pose I’ll see it when I’m standin’ up there with the black cap -over my eyes. She just leaned back and looked up as I swung my arm and -she said: ‘Kill me! Kill me!’ And I brought it down just as hard as ever -I could right over her forehead,—and she fell down on the floor.” - - - - - V - - -“You might go and talk to the guard a little bit, I’ll be all right in a -few minutes. You know this is the first time I’ve ever told it, and I -guss I’m a bit worked up.” - -Hank got up, without looking at Jim’s face. His own was white as a -corpse. He moved over to the little iron door and spoke to the guard. - -“Could you give me a drink of water—or could you make it whiskey? I’m -sure that would be better for Jim.” - -The guard passed him a flask, and told him to just keep it. Hank took a -drink himself and handed it to Jim. - -“Well, I guess ‘twould do me good. I believe if I was out of here I -wouldn’t never take any more, but I don’t see any use stoppin’ now; -anyhow I’ll need a lot of it in the mornin’. Just ask the guard if any -word has come for me. I s’pose he’d told me, though, if it had.” Jim -held the bottle to his mouth long enough to drink nearly half of what -was left. - -Hank looked out at the silent corridors. Over in the court he could -still hear the hammer and the voices of the workmen; from the upper -tiers, the wild shriek of an insane man called on someone to save him -from an imaginary foe. A solitary carriage rolled along the pavement and -the voices of two or three men singing came up from the street below. A -faint breath from the lake just stirred the heavy prison smell that -seemed dense enough to be felt. The guard asked him how he was managing -to pass the night. Hank answered that it was going much faster than he -had thought. - -“Poor fellow,” said the guard, “I’ll be kind of lonesome when he’s gone. -He’s been a good prisoner.” This was the highest character that a guard -could give. - -“Well, Hank, if you are ready now, I’ll go on with my story. That -whiskey kind of braced me up, and I s’pose you needed it too, after -listenin’ so long. I must hurry, for I ain’t near through with what I -wanted to say. I’ve thought lots about how I hit her, and I s’pose I -ought to think it was awful, and it looks so to me now, and still it -didn’t seem so then. I can’t help thinkin’ of what that feller said to -us in his speech. He claimed that punishin’ people didn’t do no good; -that other people was just as likely to kill someone if you hung -anybody, as they would be if you let ‘em go, and he went on to say that -they used to hang people for stealin’ sheep and still just as many sheep -got stole and probably more’n there was after they done away with it. I -don’t s’pose I ever should have thought anything about it if I hadn’t -killed her, but, of course, that made me think a lot. I’m sure that I -wouldn’t do such a thing again; I wouldn’t be near so likely to do it as -I was before, because now I know how them things commence, and I’m -awful, awful sorry for her too. There wa’n’t no reason why she should -die, and why I should have killed her, and if there was anything I could -do to change it, of course I would. - -“But I can’t really see how hangin’ me is goin’ to do any good. If it -was I might feel different, but it ain’t. Now, all my life I always read -about all the murders in the newspapers and I read about all the trials -and hangin’s, and I always kind of wished I could go and see one. But I -never thought I’d go this way. Why, I was readin’ about a murder and how -a feller was found guilty and sentenced to be hung just before I killed -her. And do you s’pose I thought anything about it? If there’d been -forty scaffolds right before my eyes I’d have brought down that poker -just the same. I don’t believe anyone thinks of gettin’ hung when they -do it; even if they did think of it they’d plan some way to get ‘round -it when they made up their mind to do the killin’. But they don’t think -much about it. I believe sometimes that the hangin’ makes more killin’. -Now look at them car-barn fellers; they just went out and killed people -regardless, same as some men go out to shoot game. I don’t believe -they’d ‘ve done it if it hadn’t been so dangerous. And then you know -when they hung the whole three of ‘em at once, and one feller cut his -own throat so as to cheat ‘em, and they took him right up and hung him, -too, though he was so weak they had to carry him onto the scaffold, and -the doctors done ever’thing they could do to keep him from dyin’ just -so’s they could hang him. Well, you know they hadn’t any more’n finished -them until another gang of young fellers commenced doin’ just the same -kind of thing, and they are in jail now for murder, and you know one of -‘em came in here one day and looked at the other ones before he done the -killin’. I half believe that all the fuss they made ‘bout them fellers -and hangin’ ‘em and printin’ it all in the newspapers did more to make -the other ones do it than anything else. But I s’pose there ain’t no use -hangin’ ‘em unless you put it all in the newspapers, for it won’t scare -anyone from doin’ it unless people know they are hung. - -“But, of course what I think about it don’t make any difference, so I’d -better hurry on. Well, after she fell over I stood still for a few -minutes waitin’ for her to get up. Of course I thought she’d get right -up again, and mebbe come back at me. But she didn’t move. Then I thought -she was scarin’ me, and I just sat down for a few minutes to show her -that I wa’n’t goin’ to be fooled in no such way. Still she didn’t stir. -Then I commenced to be half scart and half mad. I didn’t think it was -right to try to make me believe I had done anything like that. So I -said, ‘When you’ve laid there long enough you’d better get up.’ Then I -said, ‘What’s the use of playin’ theater, you can’t fool me. I’m goin’ -to bed and when you get ready you can come along.’ But I didn’t go to -bed; I just sat still a little longer, and then I stepped over by her -head and looked down at it, and I thought it didn’t look right, and then -I was scart in earnest. Just then I heard the kid cry, and I didn’t want -him to come out, so I locked the outside door and took a good look to -see that all the curtains was clear down, and went in to see the kid. I -lit a candle in the bedroom and talked with him a little; told him -ever’thing was all right and to go to sleep, and I’d come in again in a -minute or two. Then I went back to the settin’ room to see her. - -“Before I looked at her face I looked down to her feet to see if maybe -they hadn’t moved, for I didn’t want to look at her face if I could help -it. And I thought mebbe this would be the best way. But the feet was -just where they was before; then I looked at her hands and they hadn’t -moved, so I knew I just had to look at her face. I hadn’t examined her -very close before, I was so scart, and I never could look at blood or -dead folks, but of course this was different; so I got down on the floor -close up to her face, and I seen the great welt along her forehead and -top of her head and across the temple, and ‘twas all covered with blood -and a lot of it had got on the floor. Her eyes was wide open. I knew -they didn’t see anything. They looked just as if they’d been turned to -glass, before she’d had time to shut ‘em. I felt of her wrist to see if -her pulse was goin’. At first I thought it wa’n’t, and then I thought I -felt it go a little, and I never felt so good in all my life. I pushed -my finger down harder, but I couldn’t get it again. Then I felt of her -heart and it was just the same way. I leaned over to her ear, and asked -her to please wake up, that I was awful sorry, and I didn’t know what I -was doin’, and if she’d just speak I’d be good to her all my life and do -ever’thing I could for her, and then I asked her to do it on account of -the boy, but still she didn’t move. Of course I was almost scart to -death by this time; first I thought I’d call the neighbors and send for -a doctor and then I thought that was no use. If she wa’n’t dead I didn’t -need him, and if she was I must try to do somethin’ so no one would find -it out. Then I began to think what could be done to bring her to. I -never had much experience with people that got hurt, except the ones I’d -seen at the railroad, and I wa’n’t just sure what to do with anyone in -this fix. But I’d read somethin’ about it somewhere, and so I went into -the back room and drew some water into a pail and took an old cloth and -got down on the floor and commenced washin’ her head. But I couldn’t see -the first sign of life. Then I looked around for some whiskey and found -a little in a bottle in the closet and poured some in her mouth, but it -all run right out, and she didn’t move. - -“Of course I never went to school very much but no matter how good an -education I had I don’t s’pose I could tell you how I felt so you’d know -it yourself. I never s’posed I’d do anything to get into any trouble, -and I always thought I was different from criminals. But here I was in -the house with her dead, and I’d killed her, and what would happen to -me? I just pictured the headlines in the newspapers and the boys callin’ -‘all about the Jackson murder,’ and me tried for murder and hung, and -the kid goin’ ‘round the rest of his life knowin’ that his father had -killed his mother and then got hung. - -“At first I just set paralyzed and sort of held my head in my hands and -moaned, and wondered if mebbe it wa’n’t a dream and if I couldn’t wake -up, and then I thought I’d go and give myself up to the police and be -done with it, and then I thought I might just as well kill myself, so I -went and got an old razor, that I used to shave with sometimes, and -tried to get up my nerve to cut my throat. But somehow I couldn’t put -the edge over my wind-pipe. I wish though now that I had. Did you ever -try to kill yourself? Them people that say it’s only cowards that kill -themselves don’t know what they’re talkin’ about. I’d like to see them -try it once. I’d have killed myself only I didn’t have the nerve. It -wa’n’t because I cared anything about livin’; but I just couldn’t cut my -own throat. Then I thought mebbe she wa’n’t dead, and I’d look again. So -I done just the way I had before,—commenced at her feet to see if they’d -moved, then when I got up to her hands I thought one of ‘em had moved, -and my heart just gave a great big jump. Then I remembered that I’d -picked it up, when I’d felt for her pulse and had put it down in a -different place. Then I looked up to her face and it was just the same. -It was white as a sheet, all except the long red and black welt and the -blood, and her eyes wide open, and lookin’ right straight up to the -ceilin’ starin’ just like a ghost. Then I felt of her hands and feet, -and they was cold as ice and she was stiff, and I knew it was all off -and she was dead. - -“If you don’t mind I’ll just take a little more of that whiskey before I -go on; the whole thing’s been a little wearin’ on me and I think it’ll -brace me up a bit. You’d better have some, too. That guard is a good -feller, considerin’ the place he’s in. I believe if you hadn’t come I’d -told my story to him. I didn’t feel as if I could go without tellin’ -someone how it really was. You see no one ever made the least bit of -allowance for me in the trial, and I got tired of talkin’ to my lawyer -all the time. He always said that what I told him didn’t amount to -anything, and he was so well educated that he couldn’t understand me -anyhow. - -“When I was sure that she was dead, I just throwed myself over on the -floor, and laid my face flat down on my arm and give up. I’m sure I -cried and I thought they could hear me next door, but I guess they -didn’t. Anyhow I cried without payin’ any attention to ‘em. I must have -laid this way for ten or fifteen minutes without once lookin’ up, and -she was right close to me, and I could just reach out my hand and touch -her. And I hadn’t begun to think what I’d do. Then after I’d laid a -while, I just thought mebbe I’d ought to pray. It had been a long while -since I’d prayed. Of course, I hadn’t paid much attention to such things -when I was all right; I guess there ain’t many people that does, except -women and children, but I always really believed in it, just the same as -I do now. I kind of thought that God knew that I wasn’t wicked enough to -kill her, and have all this trouble, and bring all that misery on the -kid; so I thought I’d try him. I didn’t know much about prayers except -only the ones I’d learnt long ago, and they didn’t any of ‘em seem to -fit this case. But I didn’t need to know any prayers; I just got down on -my knees and prayed myself. I begged God to have her come back; I told -him how good she was, and how the boy needed her and what a hard time -I’d always had, same as I told you, only not near so long, and I -apologized the best I could for not goin’ to church more reg’lar and not -ever prayin’ to him, and I asked him to forgive me for the time I kicked -her, and the other things I’d done, and I promised if he only would let -her come back I’d always be good and take care of her and the boy, and -never do anything wrong and always go to church and confessional, and -love God and Jesus and the Virgin and all the saints, and quit politics -and drinkin’, and do right. I prayed and prayed, and I meant it all, -too. And I don’t believe it was all for myself, ‘though I s’pose most of -it was, but I really felt awful sorry for her, as I have ever since, and -I felt awful sorry for the boy, who never had anything at all to do -about it all. - -“Then after I quit prayin’ I got up slow, thinkin’ that it might have -done some good, and that mebbe she’d be all right, so I started in, just -as I had before, with her feet to see if they’d moved. I s’pose the -reason I done this way was that if I saw her head first and knew she was -dead ‘twould be all off the first thing; and when I commenced with her -feet I always had some hope till I got clear up to her head. Well, her -feet hadn’t moved a bit. Then I went to her hands, and they was just in -the same place, and I began to feel it wa’n’t any use to look at her -head; but I did. And there it was just as white as that plaster-Paris -lady, and her eyes lookin’ straight up. - -“Then I felt sure ‘twas all off. I’d done everything I could think of, -and I’d prayed just as hard as I knew how, and I was sure no one ever -meant it more’n I did or wanted it any more, and I knew, of course, God -had seen the whole thing and could do it if he wanted to and that he -didn’t want to, and that she was clear dead. I kind of half set and half -laid down on the floor a little while longer, tryin’ to think about it -and what I was goin’ to do. But I couldn’t make any plans; I kep’ -thinkin’ about how it had all happened, and it begun to seem as if it -wa’n’t really me that hit her with the poker, but as if both of us was -somebody else and I was sort of dreamin’ about it all. Ain’t you ever -had them kind of feelin’s when somethin’ awful has happened? But, of -course, nothin’ like that ever happened to you. I thought most about -that beefsteak, and how I stopped and bought it, and didn’t go in and -get a drink, and all the time it seemed to me just as if that was where -I made my big mistake. And then I thought how awful near I come to goin’ -into the saloon instead of the butcher-shop, and then some of the time -I’d kind of feel as if mebbe I was goin’ into the saloon after all, and -it wa’n’t goin’ to happen. Don’t you know how it is when anybody’s died -or anything happened? You think about everything that’s done, so as to -see if mebbe you can’t make it come out some other way after all? Well, -that’s the way I done about every little thing, and every word we both -spoke till I hit her with the poker. Another thing where I almost missed -killin’ her was that poker; that coal pail didn’t belong in the settin’ -room at all, but ought to have been in the kitchen, and I don’t know how -it ever got in there. Mebbe the boy lugged it in for a drum. You know he -didn’t have many playthings, or mebbe she started a little fire in the -settin’ room, for ‘twas the first cold day. I don’t see how it could -have been that either, for she was washin’ that day and wouldn’t have -any time to set in there. But I don’t know as it makes any difference; -the coal pail was in the settin’ room and the poker was in the pail, and -they was right before my eyes at the time. If they hadn’t been I never -would’ve used the poker. When she stood up and told me to kill her, I’d -most likely struck her with my fists and that would only knocked her -down. But anyhow it didn’t do any good to go over it, for I couldn’t go -into the saloon instead of the butcher-shop, and I couldn’t get that -coal pail out of the settin’ room, and it had all been done—and she was -dead! And I’d killed her! After I’d went over this a long time I made -myself stop so I could do somethin’ that would be some use, for I knew -there was lots to be done before mornin’, and I hadn’t a minute to lose. -I knew I must get up off’n the floor and try to act like a man, and not -give up, no matter how bad it was. But before I got up I thought I’d -just take one more look to make sure that there wa’n’t no use. So I went -over her again, just as I’d done before, and it came out the same way -anyhow. I didn’t much think it was any use then and would’ve just about -as soon begun at the head and got through with it right away. - -“After I had looked her over again I got up and set down in a chair to -make up my mind what to do. I hadn’t been there very long when I knew I -couldn’t figure it out; ‘twas too much for me the way I was, and so I -thought I’d just quit tryin’ and do a few things first. And then I -wondered what time ‘twas. I hadn’t thought anything about the time -before, but I s’posed it must be almost mornin’ for just then I heard an -express wagon drive along the street, and anyhow it seemed an awful long -while since I got home. The clock was right up on the mantel-piece and -tickin’ loud, but I hadn’t thought of lookin’ at it before and didn’t -even know it was in the room. I looked up and seen it was goin’ and that -‘twas only a quarter to twelve. I was surprised that it wa’n’t no later, -and wondered how it could be, and just then it struck and I kind of kep’ -count because I was sort of thinkin’ of the clock and it stopped -strikin’ at nine. Then I thought somethin’ must be wrong with the clock -too, and I looked back again and seen that I’d made a mistake in the -hands and ‘twas only nine o’clock. I couldn’t believe this was so, but -the clock was goin’ all right. Then I kind braced up a little and -thought what was to be done. First, I looked ‘round the room. I told -you, didn’t I, that we et in the settin’ room? It was a settin’ room and -a dinin’ room both. Sometimes we et in the kitchen, but that was pretty -small. The table stood there with the dirty dishes just as we’d got -through eatin’. There was the plates and knives and forks, and the -teacups and the big platter with some of that steak left, and the gravy -gettin’ kind of hard like lard all ‘round it. The coal pail was there -and standin’ ‘round the table where we’d set to eat, except the rockin’ -chair which was over by the stove. I looked at all them things, and then -I looked down at the floor, and there she lay with her head over toward -the closet door and her feet up almost under the table. It was an awful -sight to look at her on the floor, but there wa’n’t nothin’ else to do, -so I looked her all over as careful as I had before, then I got kind of -scart; I hadn’t never been in a room alone with anyone that was dead, -except at the morgue; but, of course, this was worse than anything of -that kind. I’d always heard more or less about ghosts and haunted houses -and things like that, and didn’t believe anything of the kind, but they -seemed to come back now when I looked over where she was layin’. I was -afraid of ever’thing, not of people but of ghosts and things I couldn’t -tell nothin’ about. I knew she was dead and must have gone somewhere, -and most likely she was right ‘round here either in the bedroom lookin’ -at the boy or out here seein’ how I felt and what I was goin’ to do with -her. Just then I heard somethin’ move over by the closet and it scart me -almost to death. I knew it must be her and couldn’t bear to see her -unless she could come to life on the floor. Finally I looked around to -where I heard the noise and then I seen it was the curtain; the window -was down a little at the top. I went and put up the window, and then -hated to turn ‘round and look back where she lay. Then I went to the -bedroom door and opened it about half way just so the light wouldn’t -fall on the bed and wake him up, but so I could hear him breathe and it -wouldn’t be quite so lonesome. Ever’thing was awful still and like a -ghost except the clock, after I got to thinkin’ of it. Then it ticked so -loud I was almost ‘fraid they’d hear it in the next house. When I got -the bedroom door open I thought I must do somethin’ about her and the -room before I made up my mind what plan to take about myself. - -“First I went and hunted up the cat. I’d always heard about that, so I -went into the kitchen and there she was sleepin’ under the stove. I -couldn’t help wishin’ I was the cat, although I had never thought of any -such thing before. Then I took her in my hand and went to the outside -door and threw her out in the yard and shut the door tight. Then I came -back in the settin’ room and thought about what had to be done. I looked -over again at her and then I saw her eyes still lookin’ right up at the -ceilin’, and round and shinin’ like glass marbles. I thought that wa’n’t -the way they ought to be and that all the dead folks I’d ever seen had -their eyes shut. So I went over and got down by her head and kind of -pushed the lids over her eyes, same as I’d always heard they did, and -put some nickels on ‘em to keep ‘em down. I don’t know how I done it, -but I felt as if it had to be done, and, of course, they wa’n’t no one -else to do it, and nobody knows what they can do until they have to. And -then I saw that there was a good deal of blood on her face, and I wanted -her to look decent though I didn’t know then what would be done with -her, and I went into the kitchen to the sink and got a pan of water and -some soap and an old towel, and washed all the blood off that I could -find, and wiped her face careful to make her look as well as I could. -Once or twice while I was doin’ it I kind of felt down to her heart, but -I knew it wa’n’t no use. Still I thought it couldn’t do any hurt, and -that God might’ve thought I wa’n’t scart enough so he waited; but I -didn’t feel nothin’ there. Then I kind of smoothed back her hair like -I’d seen her do sometimes. ‘Twas all scattered round on the floor and -pretty full of blood. I couldn’t very well get the blood out, but I -fixed the hair all back together the best I could. Then I noticed that -her jaw kind of hung down and I pushed it up and tied a towel around it -to keep it there, and then she looked pretty well, except that great -long gash over her face and head where the poker went. - -“Then I thought I’d have to fix up the room and the floor a little bit. -I sort of pushed back the chairs and the table so I could get a little -more room, and then moved her a little way and straightened her out -some. First before I moved her I got that paper I’d been readin’ and -laid it on the floor and then I took up her shoulders and lifted ‘em -over to one side and laid her head on the paper. Then I moved the rest -of her over to match her head and shoulders. There was a lot of blood on -the floor where she’d been, and I knew I had to do somethin’ about that. - -“There was a nice Japanese rug on the floor, and her head had struck -just on the edge of it over by the door. I’d bought her the rug for a -Christmas present last year, and she liked it better’n anything she had -in the house, but it was beginnin’ to wear out some. A part of the blood -was on the floor and a part on the rug. So I went and got another pan of -water and the soap and towel and washed the floor; then I washed the rug -the best I could, and lifted it up and washed in under it, and then -threw away the water and got some more and washed it all over again. -When I seen that the last water was a little bloody I thought mebbe I’d -better go over it again, so I got some more water and went over it the -third time, then I threw the water out and washed the towel as good as I -could, and went back in and looked ‘round the room to see if there was -anything else to do. Just then I noticed the poker that I hadn’t thought -of before. I took it to the kitchen and washed it all over and then -dried it and then put it in the stove and covered it with ashes, and -then laid it down on the hearth; then I went back in and seen that -ever’thing was finished and that she was all right, and there wa’n’t -nothin’ to do except to make my plans. But before I go on and tell you -what I done with her, let me speak to the guard a minute.” - -Hank and Jim got up once more and looked out through the bars. The guard -was still sitting on the stool and asked what he could do. - -“What time is it?” said Jim. - -“Oh, it’s early yet, only a little after twelve,” he replied. “Wouldn’t -you like a little more whiskey? I’ve got another bottle here, and I can -get all I want down to the office. If I was you I’d drink it. I don’t -think whiskey does any hurt. I’m always arguing with that other guard -about it. He’s bug-house on whiskey.” - -Jim took the whiskey and then turning to the guard, with an anxious -face, said, “You’re sure nothin’ has come for me?” - -“No, there’s nothin’ come.” But after a few minutes he added, “I’ll go -over to the telephone pretty soon and call up the telegraph office and -make sure.” - -Jim’s face brightened a little at this. “I’m much obliged. It might be -sent to me, and it might be sent to the jailer or the sheriff. You’d -better ask for all of us.” - - - - - VI - - -“That whiskey makes me feel better. I’ve been takin’ a good deal tonight -and I s’pose I’ll take more in the mornin’. That’s one reason why I’m -drinkin’ so much now. First I thought I wouldn’t take any tomorrow—or—I -guess it’s today, ain’t it? It don’t seem possible; but I s’pose it is. -I thought I’d show the newspapers and people that’s been tellin’ what a -coward I was to kill a woman! but now I think I’ll take all I possibly -can. I guess that’s the best way. It don’t make no difference—if I take -it they’ll say I’m a coward and if I don’t, it’s only bravado. Most -people takes so much that they almost have to be carried up, and they -don’t hardly know. I guess that’s the best way. Some people take -somethin’ to have a tooth pulled, and I don’t see why they shouldn’t for -a thing like this. Mebbe the whiskey makes me talk more’n I meant to, -and tell you a lot of things that hain’t nothin’ to do with the case, -but it’s pretty hard for me to tell what has and what hain’t. - -“After I got her laid out and the floor cleaned, I set down a minute to -think what I’d do next. First I thought I’d go in and get the kid and -take him away, and leave her there, and I guess now that would have been -the best way, and they wouldn’t found it out so quick. But then I -thought the people next door, or the postman, or milkman, or somebody, -would come along in the mornin’ and find her there, and I couldn’t get -far with the kid. Besides I only had about ten dollars and I knew that -wouldn’t last long. Then I thought I’d just go out and jump onto one of -the freight trains they was makin’ up in the yards, and leave her and -the kid both; then I couldn’t bear to think of him wakin’ up and comin’ -out into the settin’ room and findin’ her there. He wouldn’t know what -it meant and would be scart to death and ‘twouldn’t be right. Then so -long as I couldn’t do either one, I had to get her out, but I didn’t -know how to do it, and what was I goin’ to do with her when I got her -out. First I thought I’d try to put her in the sewer, and then I knew -someone would find her there for that had been tried before; then I -studied to see what else I could think of. - -“Finally I happened to remember a place she and I went once picnickin’, -just after we was married. I don’t know how I happened to remember it, -‘cept that I couldn’t think of anything to do, and then I was kind of -goin’ over our life, and it seemed as if that was the nicest day we ever -had. One of the boys had been tellin’ me about the new street car lines -that run way off down through Pullman and South Chicago, and out into -the country, and how nice it was out there away from all the houses. So -one Sunday we went over to the street cars and started out. I don’t know -whether we found the right place or not, but I remember just when we was -goin’ to turn somewhere to go to Pullman or South Chicago we saw some -trees off in a field, and thought that would be a nice place to go and -set in the shade and eat the lunch we’d brought along. So we went over -under the trees, and then I saw some rock further over, and then she and -I went over where they was and there was a great deep pond with big -stones all ‘round the edge. I heard that it was an old stone quarry that -had got filled up with water. But it was awful deep and big, and we set -down under a little tree on top of one of them big rocks and let our -feet hang over the sides, and the water was way down below, and I said -to her just in fun, ‘Now, if I wanted to get rid of you, I could just -push you over here and no one would ever know anything about it.’ She -kind of laughed at the idea and said if I ever wanted to get rid of her -I wouldn’t have to push her off any rock, that she’d go and jump in -somewhere herself, and I told her if I ever wanted her to I’d let her -know, and for her to just wait till I did. And we went all ‘round the -pond, and I threw stones in it and tried to see how near across I could -throw, and we stayed ‘round until it was time to take the car and go -home. And I don’t believe I ever had a better time. Now and then when we -was friendly or had got over a fight, we used to talk about goin’ back -there again, but we never did. - -“Well, after thinkin’ of ever’thing I could, I made up my mind that the -best thing was for me to put her on the express wagon and take her out -there, if I could find the place. I didn’t believe anybody would ever -know anything about it, and if they did ‘twould be a long time and they -wouldn’t know who she was. - -“Then I thought it might be dangerous gettin’ her out of the house and -gettin’ the wagon out on the street that time of night. If anyone seen -us they’d be suspicious and want to know what I was doin’, and then I -was afraid the policeman would be watchin’ for suspicious people and -things along the street. But I didn’t see anything else to do, and I -knew I had to take chances anyway and would most likely get caught in -the end. I looked at the clock and found ‘twas only ten, and I felt as -if that was too early to start out. The people next door wouldn’t be -abed and if they ever saw me carryin’ her out they couldn’t help -noticin’ it. So I set down and waited. You hain’t no idea how slow the -time goes in such a case. I just set and heard that clock tick, and the -boy breathin’ in the other room; it seemed as if every tick was just -fetchin’ me that much nearer to the end—and I s’pose mebbe that’s so, -whether we’ve killed anyone or not, but you don’t never think of it -unless it’s some place where you’re waitin’ for someone to die, or -somethin’ like that. Then of course I kept thinkin’ of ever’thing in my -whole life, and I went over again how I’d done it, but I couldn’t make -it come out any different no matter how hard I tried. - -“Then I wondered what I was goin’ to do next, and how long ‘twould be -before they’d ketch me, and if I’d stand any show to get out, if I got -ketched. Of course, I thought I’d have to run away. I never seemed to -think of anything but that. I guess ever’body runs away when they do any -such thing; ‘tain’t so much bein’ safer, but they want to get away. It -don’t seem as if they’d ever be any chance anymore where it’s done. But -I couldn’t just figger out where to go. Of course, I knew I’d take the -cars. There ain’t any other way to travel if you want to go quick. Then -I thought I’d have a long enough time to figger it out while I was -takin’ that drive down across the prairie. Anyhow I’d need somethin’ to -think about while I was goin’. - -“That feller that talked to us in the jail said the real reason why they -hung people and locked ‘em up was to get even with ‘em, to make ‘em -suffer because they’d done somethin’. He said all the smart men who’d -studied books claimed that hangin’ and punishin’ didn’t keep other -people from doin’ things. But if it’s done to make anyone suffer they -ain’t any use in doin’ it at all. I never suffered so much since as I -did when I was settin’ there and thinkin’ all about it, and what I was -goin’ to do, and what would become of the kid, and how she was dead, and -ever’thing else. You know it takes quite a while to get used to a thing -like that, and while I was settin’ there beginnin’ to realize what it -all meant, it was awful! If I’d only had the nerve I’d just cut my -throat and fell right over alongside of her. A good many people does -that and I wish I could’ve. But every time I thought of it I kind of -hung back. I don’t ever want any more such nights; I’d rather they’d -hang me and be done with it. I didn’t suffer so much when I was runnin’ -away or gettin’ caught, or bein’ tried; even when I was waitin’ for the -verdict to come in; nor I didn’t suffer so much waitin’ for the Supreme -Court or the Governor, or even since they give up hope and I can hear -‘em puttin’ that thing up over there in the courtyard. - -“I don’t s’pose hangin’ will hurt so very much after all. The main thing -is, I want ‘em to hurry after they start out. Of course, I’ll be pretty -drunk, and won’t know much about what they’re doin’, and I don’t s’pose -they’ll take long after I put on them clothes until it’s all over. Goin’ -from here to the place won’t hurt, though I s’pose it’ll be pretty hard -work walkin’ up the ladder and seein’ that rope hangin’ over the beam, -and knowin’ what it’s for. But I s’pose they’ll help me up. And then -strappin’ my hands and feet’ll take some time. But they don’t need to do -that with me for I shan’t do a thing;—still mebbe if they didn’t I’d -kind of grab at the rope when they knocked the door out from under my -feet. I might do that without knowin’ it. So I s’pose it’s just as well. -It must be kind of sickish when they tie the rope ‘round your neck, and -when they pull that cap over your head, and you know you ain’t never -goin’ to see anything again. I don’t s’pose they’ll wait long after -that; they oughtn’t to. You won’t feel anything when you’re fallin’ down -through, but it must hurt when you’re pulled up short by the neck. But -that can’t last long, can it? They do say the fellers kicks a good deal -after they’re hung, but the doctors say they don’t really feel it, and I -s’pose they know, but I don’t see how they can all be so smart about -ever’thing; they hain’t never been hung. - -“I s’pose the priest will be here; he’s a trump, and I think more of him -than I ever did before. He’s been a great help to me, and I don’t know -what I’d done without him. Of course, he talks religion to me, but he’s -kind of cheerful and ain’t always making out that I’m so much worse than -anyone else ever was. I ain’t much afraid ‘bout God; somehow I kind of -feel as if He knows that I’ve always had a pretty tough time, and that -He’ll make allowances on account of a lot of them things that the judge -ruled out, and He knows how I’ve suffered about it all and how sorry I -be for her and the kid, and He’ll give me a fair show. Still sometimes I -can’t help wonderin’ if mebbe there ain’t nothin’ in all of it, and if I -hain’t got through when my wind’s shut off. Well, ‘scuse me, I didn’t -want to make you feel bad, but I’ve thought about it so much and gone -over it so many times that it don’t seem as if it was me, but that -someone else was goin’ to get hung; but I hain’t no right to tell it to -anybody else, and I didn’t mean to. - -“Well, I set there and waited and waited, until about eleven o’clock, -and then I thought mebbe ‘twould be safe enough to start, just then the -boy woke up, and I heard him say ‘Mamma,’ and it kind of gave me a -start, and I hurried in and asked him what he wanted and he said he -wanted a drink of water, and I came out to the kitchen sink and got it -and took it back and gave it to him. Then he asked me what time it was, -and I told him about eleven o’clock, and he asked me why I had my -clothes on and where mamma was, and I told him we hadn’t gone to bed -yet, and for him to turn over and go to sleep, and he said a few more -words and then dropped off. - -“Then I went out to the barn to hitch up the rig. The horse was layin’ -down asleep, and I felt kind of mean to wake him, for I knew he was -about played out anyhow; but it couldn’t be helped, so I got him up and -put on the harness. I s’pose he didn’t know much about the time, and -thought he was goin’ down to Water Street after a load of potatoes. I -didn’t bring any lantern; I knew the barn so well I could hitch up in -the dark. Then I took the hay off’n the potatoes and put it in the -bottom of the wagon to lay her on, and then run the wagon out and turned -it ‘round and backed it in again. I ‘most always hitched up outside the -barn for there was more room outdoors, but I didn’t want to be out there -any more’n I could help, so I thought I’d get all ready in the barn so I -could just drive away. - -“Well, I got the horse all harnessed and the bits in his mouth, and -ever’thing ready to hitch up, and then went back in the house. I’d been -thinkin’ that I’d better take one more look, not that ‘twould do any -good but just because it might. You know when you’ve lost a knife, or a -quarter, or anything, and you look through all your pockets and find it -‘tain’t there, and then go back and look through all of ‘em again and -don’t find it; then you ain’t satisfied with that and mebbe you keep a -lookin’ through ‘em all day, even when you know ‘tain’t there. Well, -that’s the way I felt about her, only I s’pose a good deal worse, so -when I got in I looked her over again just the same way’s I had before. -I felt for her pulse and her heart but ‘twa’n’t no use. Then I got my -old overcoat and my hat and got ready to start, but before I left I -thought I’d just look out once to see if the folks in the next house was -abed, and I found they wa’n’t, for there was a light in the kitchen -right next to mine, and I knew ‘twould never do to carry that kind of a -bundle out the back door while they was up. So I waited a little while -until the light went out and ever’thing was still, and then put on my -coat and hat and picked her up in my arms. It was an awful hard thing to -do, but there wa’n’t nothin’ else for it, so I just kind of took my mind -off’n it and picked her up. When I got her kind of in my arms one of her -arms sort of fell over, and her legs kind of hung down like they was -wood, and then I see I had to fasten ‘em some way or I couldn’t never -carry her. It wa’n’t like a live person that can stay right where they -want to; it was more like carryin’ an arm full of wood that would -scatter all around unless you get it held tight. - -“Then I laid her down and found some string and tied her arms tight -around her body, and then fastened her ankles together. Then I went into -the bedroom and got a quilt off’n our bed and rolled her up in that. You -know at my trial they made out that ‘twas bad for me to tie her that -way, and if I hadn’t been awful wicked I wouldn’t have done it. But I -can’t see anything in that; there wa’n’t no other way to do it. Then -they said it was awful bad the way I took her off and the place I dumped -her, and the newspapers made that out one of the worst things about it -all; but I tried to think up something else to do and I couldn’t, and -there she was dead, and I had to do the best I could. I washed her and -fixed her all up before I went away, and if there’d been anything else I -could have done I know I would. - -“When I got her fixed up, I went to the door and looked out, and I saw -some drunken fellers goin’ along in the alley, so I waited a minute for -them; and then I got her in my arms and opened the door and then turned -off the light and went out and shut the door as soft as I could. It -wa’n’t but a few steps to the barn, but I hurried as fast as I could, -and just as I was takin’ the first step I heard the most unearthly -screech that scart me so I ‘most dropped her; but in a minute I knew it -was only a train pullin’ into the yards and I hurried to get to the barn -before the engine come up. - -“Well, I guess nobody saw me, and I got her in the wagon and laid her on -the hay. I fixed her head to the end and her feet reachin’ up under the -seat. I didn’t want her head so near me in that long drive down over the -prairie. Then I covered her up the best I could with one of the old -horse blankets, so it wouldn’t look suspicious if anyone seen me. - -“I tell you it was awful pokerish out there in the barn, worse than in -the house, for I had a light there. I didn’t want to stay in the barn a -minute longer than I could help, so I hurried and hitched the old horse -onto the wagon, then went out to the alley and looked up and down to see -if anyone was there. Then I got on the seat and put a blanket around me -and drove off. I was afraid the neighbors would notice me drive out of -the barn, but they didn’t. The moon hadn’t quite got up and there -couldn’t anyone see unless they was right close. When I got about a -block away I seen a policeman walkin’ ‘long the street and goin’ up to -pull a box. Of course I was scart; he looked at me kind of suspicious -like, and looked at the wagon to see what was in there, but it was -rather dark and I braced up the best I could and drove right ‘long and -he didn’t say nothin’. Then I found a lot of fellers that was comin’ -down the street makin’ a lot of noise. They was a gang of politicians -that had been goin’ round to the saloons and was pretty full. I was -afraid some of ‘em might know me, but they didn’t pay any attention and -I went along up to the corner of Halsted and turned south. I knew -Halsted was a pretty public street, but the roads was better and I had a -long way to go, so I thought I might just as well chance that. - -“I got along down about Twenty-ninth Street and met a gang of fellers -that was makin’ a lot of noise singin’ and talkin’, and braggin’ and -tellin’ what they could do. I was a little ‘fraid of ‘em, not because I -thought they’d hurt me, but I didn’t know but what they’d see what was -in the wagon. When I come up to ‘em they told me to stop, that they was -the ‘Bridgeport threshers’ and no one had any right there but them, and -they wanted to know what reason I had to be out at that time o’ night. I -told ‘em I was just gettin’ home, that I’d been kep’ late up town. Then -one of ‘em said, ‘What you got in the wagon?’ and I said, ‘Potatoes.’ -Then one feller said, ‘Let’s see ‘em,’ and started for the wagon. But -another one spoke up and said, ‘Oh, Bill, leave him alone, he’s all -right.’ And then they all started up another road and went away. That -was a pretty narrow escape and I was ‘most scart to death for fear -they’d look under the blanket. I met a good many teams but nothin’ more -happened till I got down to Fifty-fifth Street Boulevard, where I turned -east to go over to the Vincennes road. - -“By this time the moon had come up and it was about as light as day. It -had stopped snowin’ and the wind had gone down but it was awful cold. I -never saw a nicer night. You could see everything almost as well as -daylight. I hurried the old horse as much as I could, but he couldn’t go -fast. He hadn’t got much rested from the day before. Every once in a -while I looked back at the load. I kind of hated to look, but I couldn’t -help it. The blanket commenced to kind of take her shape so it looked to -me as if anyone would know that someone was under there. So I got out -and moved the blanket and fixed it up more on one side. But I didn’t -look at her. Then I drove on across to Vincennes road and turned south. -Every once in a while I’d meet someone, and I was afraid all the time -that something would happen, but it didn’t and I drove on. The moon got -clear up high and I could see everything on the road and around the -wagon, and see where her feet came through under the seat and almost -touched mine, and could see all the horse blanket that covered her up. I -hadn’t got far down the Vincennes road until I thought the blanket had -changed its shape and was lookin’ just like her again so I got out and -fixed it up and went back and drove on. - -“While I was goin’ ‘long I kep’ thinkin’ what I was goin’ to do and I -s’pose it was the cold that made me think I’d better go south. I always -did hate cold weather, and this winter I thought I’d have to stay out -and run ‘round from one place to another, if I didn’t get caught the -first thing. - -“Then I thought I must take the horse and wagon back home, and I wanted -to see that the boy was all right; so I thought it might bother me to go -clear out to that quarry and get away from Chicago before daylight. But -anyhow I could go until one o’clock and then get back by three, and -probably ketch a train before mornin’. - -“After a while I begun to have a queer idea about her. I thought I could -feel her lookin’ right at me,—kind of feel her eyes. I drove on, and -said it was all bosh and she couldn’t do it, and I looked down at her -feet and I seen they was in the same place, but still I couldn’t get -over that feelin’. I thought she was lookin’ at me all the time, and I -kind of ‘magined I could hear her say, ‘Where ‘re you takin’ me? Where -are you takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me?’ just about the same as when -she said, ‘Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!’ and no matter what I done, or how -hard I tried, I could feel her lookin’ and hear them words in my ears. - -“By this time I was gettin’ ‘way down the Vincennes road. You know it -gets wide ‘way down south, and it ain’t much built up nor very well -paved. There’s a lot of road-houses along the street; most of ‘em was -open and a good many fellers was ‘round ‘em, just as they always is -‘round saloons. I’d like to have had a drink, for I was awful cold and -scart, but I didn’t dare go in, though I did stop at a waterin’-trough -in front of one of the places and watered the horse. He was pretty well -blowed and was hot. I had urged him pretty hard and the road was heavy. -Wherever there was mud it was frozen so stiff that it could almost hold -up, and still let you break through, the very worse kind of roads for a -horse to go on. - -“After I got him watered I went on and kep’ meetin’ lots of wagons. I -never had no idea how many people traveled nights before. I s’posed I -wouldn’t see anyone, but I met a wagon ever’ little ways and I was -always afraid when I passed ‘em. A great many of ‘em hollered out, -‘Hello, pardner,’ or ‘What you got to sell,’ or anything, to be -sociable, and I would holler back the best I could, generally stickin’ -to ‘Potatoes,’ when they asked me about my load. I thought I knew -potatoes better’n anything else, and would be more at home with ‘em if -anything was said. - -“I hadn’t got far after I watered the horse before her eyes began to -bother me again. Then I kept hearin’ them words plainer than I had -before. Then I got to thinkin’ about all the things I had heard and read -about people who were dead, and about murders, and that seemed to make -it worse’n ever. Then I began to think of the things I’d read about -people that were put away for dead, when they wa’n’t dead at all, and -about mesmerism, and hypnotism, and Christian Science, but I knew none -of them things was done the way she’d been killed. Then I remembered -about trances, and how people was give up for dead sometimes for days, -and even buried and then come to life, and about how people had dug up -old graveyards and found out where lots of people had moved around after -they’s dead. And then I thought I heard her say, ‘You thought you’d -killed me! You thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me!’ -And the further I went the plainer it sounded. Finally I began to think -‘twas so and of course I hoped it was, and I kep’ thinkin’ it more’n -more and couldn’t get it out of my head. Of course, I looked around at -the houses and the trees and fences and at the moon. It had clouded up a -little with them kind of lightish heavy clouds you’ve seen that run so -fast; they was just flyin’ along over the sky and across the moon, and I -was wishin’ I could go ‘long with ‘em and get away from it all, and then -the voice would come back, ‘Where are you takin’ me? Where are you -takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me? You thought you’d killed me! You -thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me!’ And I felt so -sure she wa’n’t dead that I couldn’t stand it any more, and I looked at -her feet, but they hadn’t moved, and then I stopped the horse and got -off’n the wagon and went back to the hind end and lifted up the blanket -kind of slow. For I felt as if I’d stand more chance that way than if I -did it all at once, and I got the blanket up, and then I got hold of the -quilt just by the edge and kind of pulled it back so as to uncover her -face, and just then the moon came out from behind a cloud and shone -right down in her face, almost like day, and she looked just as white as -a ghost, and the bandage had come off her jaw and it hung clear down, -and her mouth was open, and I knew she was dead. - -“Then I threw the things back and jumped onto the wagon, half crazy, and -hurried on. - -“It was gettin’ now where there wa’n’t no more houses, and I hardly ever -met any teams, and I was gettin’ clear out on the prairies, and I looked -at my old silver watch and saw it was close to one o’clock, and I -thought mebbe I might just as well get through with it now as to wait -any longer. So I looked along at the fields to find a good place, and -after a while I saw where there was a great big field full of hummocks. -It looked as if they’d been diggin’ for gravel or somethin’ of that -kind, and I thought that was as good a place as any. So I looked up and -down the road, and saw no one comin’, and I drove the old horse up in -the fence corner and got off the wagon, and then I fixed a good place to -get over, and fastened the quilt a little better, and took her in my -arms and started as fast as ever I could. I went past the fence and run -over to the first hummock, but the hole didn’t look very deep, and there -was some more further over. So I went to them, but they wa’n’t deep -enough either. Then I looked ‘round and saw one bigger’n the rest and -went there. I laid her down and looked over. The moon was shinin’ all -right, and I could see that the hole was pretty big and deep. I laid her -down lengthwise ‘long the bank, and then took one more feel of her heart -and ‘twas just the same. Then I fastened the quilt a little tighter, -lifted her clear over to the edge, and held her head and feet in a -straight line so she’d roll down the hill all right, and then I give her -a shove and turned and run away.” - - - - - VII - - -“Well, I hadn’t any more’n started to run till I heard a splash I knew -she’d got to the water all right and there wa’n’t nothin’ for me to do -but hurry home. - -“I went right back to the wagon and climbed upon the seat and turned -‘round. The old horse was pretty tired but he seemed some encouraged, -bein’ as he’d turned home. Horses always does, no matter how poor a -place they has to stay. I urged him ‘long just as fast as I could; -didn’t stop for nothin’ except to give him some water at a trough down -on Halstead Street, and went right home. Then I put him in the stable -and took care of him, and throwed some hay in the manger. So long as I -hadn’t any oats I emptied about a bushel of potatoes in with the hay. I -thought they wouldn’t be any use to me any more, and they’d keep him -quiet a while and mebbe do him some good. - -“Then I went in the house, and struck a match and lit the lamp. I didn’t -‘low to stay long for I’d got my plans all thought out comin’ home, but -I just wanted to look into the room and see the kid. I glanced ‘round -and ever’thing seemed all right, except I thought I’d better take the -coal pail out in the kitchen. Then I looked at the floor and the rug and -I couldn’t see no blood; and the water had pretty near dried up. Then I -opened the bedroom door and looked at the kid. He was sleepin’ all -right, just as if he hadn’t been awake once all night. He was layin’ on -one side with his face lookin’ out toward me, and was kind of smilin’ -pleasant-like and his hair was all sweaty and curly. You’ve seen the -kid. You know he’s got white curly hair just as fine as silk. That’s one -thing he got from her. - -“Well, I couldn’t hardly bear to go away and leave him, but there wa’n’t -nothin’ else to do. I guess I would have kissed him if I hadn’t been -‘fraid he’d wake up, but I never was much for kissin’; kissin’ depen’s a -good deal on how you’re raised. I guess rich people kiss a good deal -more’n poor people, as a general rule, but I don’t know as they think -any more of their children. Well, I just looked at him a minute and shut -the door and went out. Then I noticed the whiskey bottle on the table -that I brought out to try to wake her; I hadn’t thought of it before; -and I picked it up and drank what was left, and turned and blew out the -lamp and went away. That’s the last I ever seen of the kid, or the -house. - -“I went right over to the yards to see about trains. There wa’n’t -nothin’ standin’ ‘round there and I didn’t like to ask any questions, so -I went down to the other end and see ‘em switchin’ some cars as if they -was makin’ up a train, and I walked out in the shadow of a fence until -they’d got it all made up and I felt pretty sure ‘twas goin’ south. I -knew them cars and engines pretty well. Then I jumped in a box car that -was about in the middle of the train. There was a great big machine of -some kind in the car, so there was plenty of room left for me, and I -snuggled down in one corner and dozed off. I don’t think I’d been -sleepin’ long till a brakeman come past with a lantern and asked me who -I was and where I was goin’. I told him I was goin’ south to get a job, -and wanted to get down as far as Georgia if I could, for my lungs wa’n’t -strong and the doctors had advised a change of climate. I had read about -the doctors advisin’ rich people to have a change of climate, but of -course I hadn’t ever heard of their tellin’ the poor to do any such -thing. I s’pose because it wouldn’t do no good and they couldn’t afford -to leave their jobs and go. But I didn’t see why that wasn’t a good -excuse. He asked me if I had any whiskey or tobacco, and I said no, and -he told me that I oughtn’t to get on a train without whiskey or tobacco, -and I promised not to again, and then he let me go. - -“It was just gettin’ streaks of light in the east, and I thought I might -as well go ahead and prob’ly I’d better ride till noon anyhow, as -nothin’ much could happen before that time. Then I went off to sleep -again. The sun was pretty high before I woke up. I looked at my watch to -see what time it was but found I’d forgot to wind it the night before -and it had run down. Well, I concluded it was just as safe to stay on -the car so long as it was goin’ south and so I didn’t get off all day, -except to run over to a grocery when the train stopped once and get some -crackers and a few cigars. I thought I’d have ‘em when the brakeman come -‘round, and then I fixed myself for the night. I was pretty well beat -out and didn’t have much trouble goin’ to sleep, though of course I -couldn’t get it out of my head any of the time, and would wake up once -in a while and wonder if it wa’n’t all a dream till I found myself again -and knew it was all true. - -“I’d found out that the car I was in was goin’ to Mississippi and made -out that it was for some saw mill down there. It was switched ‘round -once or twice in the day, and I think once in the night, and was put on -other trains, and the new brakeman had come ‘round at different times. -After I got the cigars I gave ‘em one whenever they come ‘round and this -kep’ ‘em pretty good natured. And so long as the car had switched off -and I made up my mind they wouldn’t find her the first day, I thought -mebbe I’d better stay right in it and go to Mississippi. I didn’t know -nothin’ ‘bout Mississippi, except that it was south and a long ways off -and settled with niggers, and that they made lumber down there. I used -to see a good many cars from Mississippi when I was switchin’ in the -yards. The car was switched off quite a bit, and didn’t go very fast, -and it was four days before they landed it in Mississippi. - -“They stopped right in the middle of the woods, and I made up my mind -that this was about as good a place to stay as anywhere, if I could get -a job, and I thought it wouldn’t be a bad plan to try where they was -sendin’ the machine. It had been so easy for me to get down to -Mississippi that I began to think that mebbe my luck had changed, and -that the Lord had punished me all he was goin’ to. So I went up to the -mill and asked for a job. The foreman told me he’d give me one if I -didn’t mind workin’ with niggers. I told him I didn’t care anything -‘bout that, I guessed they was as good as I was. So I started in. My -whiskers was beginnin’ to grow out some. You know I always kep’ ‘em -shaved off, and now they was comin’ out all over my face, and I made up -my mind to let ‘em grow. I went to work loadin’ saw logs onto a little -car that took ‘em down into the mill. A great big stout nigger worked -with me, and we took long poles and rolled the logs over onto the cars, -and then it was rolled down into the mill and another one come up in its -place. I found the only chance to board was in the big buildin’ where -all the hands lived. I thought this wa’n’t a bad place. Most of the -people boardin’ there was niggers, but there was a few white fellers, -and I naturally got acquainted with ‘em. - -“I’d been there a week or two when someone brought a Chicago paper into -the house. It was covered with great big headlines and had my picture on -the front page. It told all ‘bout some boys findin’ her and about the -neighbors hearin’ me call her a damned bitch, and about the kid wakin’ -up in the mornin’ and goin’ out in the street to hunt its ma. Then it -offered a thousand dollars reward in great big letters. - -“My whiskers had grown out a good deal and I didn’t look so very much -like the picture. Anyhow I don’t think newspaper pictures look much like -anybody. Still, of course, I was awful scart at that. My best chum read -the piece all over out loud to me after we got through work, and he said -it beat all what a place Chicago was; that such things as that was -always happenin’ in Chicago; and that Jackson must have been an awful -bad man—wouldn’t I hate to meet him out in the woods some place! A man -like that would rather kill anybody than eat. I didn’t say much about -it, but of course I didn’t contradict him. But I simply couldn’t talk -very much myself. He said he wished he could get the one thousand -dollars, but no such luck would ever come to him. - -“When I’d come there I said my name was Jones, because ‘twas the easiest -one I could think of; there was a butcher right near us that was named -Jones, and it popped into my head at the time. Some of ‘em asked me -where I was from, and I told ‘em Cincinnati. I didn’t know much about -Cincinnati, except that we used to get cars from there, and so I knew -something ‘bout the roads that went to it. I managed to get hold of the -paper and burn it up without anyone seein’ me. But after it came I -didn’t feel so easy as I did before. I stayed there about a month -workin’ at the mill and pickin’ up what I could about the country, and -then I began to think my chum was gettin’ suspicious of me. He kep’ -askin’ me a good many questions about what I’d worked at and where’bouts -I had worked, and how I got there from Cincinnati and a lot of questions -about the town, and I thought he was altogether too inquisitive, and of -course I would have told him so if I had dared. Finally I thought the -other fellers was gettin’ suspicious, too, and I thought they kind of -watched me and asked a good many questions. So one time right after I -got my pay I made up my mind to leave. I didn’t wait to say nothin’ to -anyone, but jumped onto a freight train, and went on about fifty miles -or so south to a railroad crossin’ and then I jumped off, and took -another train east. Along next day I saw a little town where there was -another saw mill, so I stopped off and asked for a job. I didn’t have no -trouble goin’ to work, so long as I was willin’ to work with the -niggers, and I stayed there two or three weeks, same as the other place, -and then I thought the boss began to notice me. He asked me a lot of -questions about where I come from, and ‘most everything else he could -think of. I told him I come from St. Louis, but I didn’t know much more -‘bout that place than I did ‘bout Cincinnati, and I guess he didn’t -neither. But as soon as pay-day come I made up my mind I’d better start, -so I took the few duds I’d got together and jumped on another train -goin’ further yet, and went away. Finally I stopped at a little town -that looked rather nice and started out to get a job. - -“Ever since I got off the first train I always looked pretty sharp at -everyone to make out whether they was watchin’ me or not. Then I always -got hold of all the newspapers I could find to see if there was anything -more about me. I found another Chicago paper in the depot, and it still -had my picture and the offer of a thousand dollars reward, and said I -must have took one of the freight trains that left the yards, and would -most likely be in the south or in the west. I didn’t like to stay there -any longer after seein’ that paper, but I managed to fold it up the best -I could, and just as quick as I got a chance I tore it to pieces and -threw it away. Then I thought mebbe I’d better get back away from the -railroad. So I seen an old darkey that looked kind of friendly and I -asked him about the country. He told me a good deal about it and I -started out to walk to where he said there was some charcoal pits. I -found the place and managed to get a chance to work burnin’ wood and -tendin’ fires. It was awful black sooty work, but I didn’t care nothin’ -about that. The main thing with me was bein’ safe. I had a pardner who -worked with me keepin’ up the fires and lookin’ after the pits at night, -and it looked kind of nice with the red fires of the pits lightin’ up -the woods and ever’thing all ‘round lookin’ just like a picture. When we -got through in the mornin’ you couldn’t tell us from darkies, we was so -covered with smoke and burnt wood. We boarded in a little shanty with an -old nigger lady that fed us on hominy and fried chicken, and we didn’t -have much of any place to sleep that was very good. - -“After I’d been there two or three days I got pretty well acquainted -with my pardner. One day he asked me where I was from. I never said -nothin’ to anybody ‘bout where I came from, or where I was goin’, or -asked them any questions about themselves. I just worked steady at my -job, and all I thought of was keepin’ still in hopes it would wear off -in time, and I could start over new. I used to dream a good deal about -her and the boy, and sometimes I’d think we was back there in Chicago -all livin’ together and ever’thing goin’ all right. Then I would dream -that I was out with the boys to a caucus, or goin’ ‘round the saloons -campaignin’ with the alderman. Then I’d dream about fightin’ her and -hittin’ her on the head with the poker, and it seemed as if I throwed -her in Lake Michigan. Then I’d dream about the boy and my learnin’ him -his letters, and his bein’ with me in the wagon when we was peddlin’ -potatoes, and about the horse, the old one that died, and the last one I -got at the renderin’-place. Then I’d kind of get down to the peddlin’, -and go over the whole route in my sleep, hollerin’ out ‘po-ta-toes!’ all -along the streets on the west side where I used to go, and the old -Italian women and the Bohemian ladies and all the rest would be out -tryin’ to get ‘em cheaper and tellin’ me how I’d charged too much. Then -I seen the old lady that I give the half peck to, and could hear her ask -all the saints to bless me. Then I stopped into the butcher-shop and got -the steak, and ever’thing I ever done kep’ comin’ back to me, only not -quite the same as it is in real life. You know how ‘tis in a dream; you -want to go somewhere and somethin’ kind of holds your leg and you can’t -go. Or you want to do somethin’ and no matter how hard you try somethin’ -is always gettin’ in front of you and hinderin’ you and keepin’ you -back. Well, that’s the way ‘twas with all my dreams; nothin’ turned out -right and I always come back to where I killed her and throwed her in -the lake, till I was almost ‘fraid to go to sleep, and then I was ‘fraid -I’d holler or talk in my sleep. And my chum slep’ in the same room with -me and I was ‘fraid mebbe he’d find it out, so I never dared to go to -sleep until after he did, and then I was always ‘fraid I’d holler and -say somethin’ and wake him up and that he’d find out ‘bout me and what -I’d done. - -“Well, as I was sayin’, after I’d been there three or four days we was -down to the pits one night tendin’ to the fires, and we got to talkin’ -and tellin’ stories to pass the time away, and at last he asked me where -I was from, and I said St. Louis. He said he was from the north too; I -didn’t ask him where he’d come from, but he told me Chicago. I was -almost scart to death when he mentioned the place. I didn’t ask no -questions nor say a word, but he kep’ on talkin’ so I kind of moved’ -round a little and leaned up against a pine tree so’s the light couldn’t -shine right in my face, for I didn’t know what he might say. He told me -that he come down here every winter for his health; that Chicago was so -cold and changeable in the winter; that he worked in the stock-yards -when he was there and he always went back just as soon as he dared, that -there wa’n’t no place in the world like Chicago, and he was always awful -lonesome when he was away, and he wouldn’t ever leave it if he could -only stand the climate. He said there was always somethin’ goin’ on in -Chicago; a feller could get a run for his money no matter what kind of a -game he played; that if he wanted to have a little sport, there was the -pool-rooms and plenty of other places; that if he didn’t have much money -he could get a little game in the back end of a cigar store, or he could -shoot craps; if he wanted a bigger game there was Powers’ & O’Brien’s -and O’Leary’s, and if that wa’n’t enough, then there was the Board of -Trade. There was always lots of excitement in Chicago, too. There was -races and elections and always strikes, and ever’thing goin’ on. Then -there was more murders and hangin’s in Chicago than in any other city. -Take that car-barn case; it couldn’t never have happened anywhere except -in Chicago. And the Luetgert case, where the feller boiled his wife up -in the sausage-vat so that there wa’n’t nothin’ left but one or two -toe-nails, but one doctor identified her by them, and swore they was -toe-nails and belonged to a woman about her size; one of ‘em had seen -her over at a picnic and remembered her, and he was pretty sure that the -toe-nails was hers. Then that Jackson case was the latest; that happened -just a little while before he left, and the papers was full of that one. -Jackson was a peddler and he went ‘round all day and drunk at all the -saloons just so he could get up nerve enough to kill her. He thought she -had some property and he’d get it if she was out of the way, so he -killed her and took her off and put her in a hole where he thought no -one could find her; but they did, and now one of the papers had offered -a thousand dollars reward for him, and they were lookin’ for him all -over the United States. He said as how he took a Chicago paper and kep’ -posted on everything and read it every day and wouldn’t be without it -for a minute. And then he asked me if I hadn’t never been to Chicago, -and why I didn’t go. I told him mebbe I would some time, but I’d always -been kind of ‘fraid to go. I didn’t say much but got the subject changed -as soon as possible, and managed to put in the rest of the night the -best I could, and then went home, and after he’d gone to sleep I packed -my valise and paid the nigger lady and told her I had enough of that job -and started off afoot without waitin’ for my pay. - -“I went straight down the road for two or three miles till I come to -where another road crossed, then I turned off to the left. I didn’t have -any reason for turnin’, except it seemed as if that would take me more -out of the way. I didn’t see anyone along the road except now and then -some old nigger. I walked several miles, and there didn’t ‘pear to be no -one livin’ on the road except niggers with little shanties same as the -one I left in Chicago. I stopped once and asked an old darkey lady for -somethin’ to eat and she give me some fried chicken and a piece of corn -bread and I sat and et it, and a whole lot of woolly-headed little -pickaninnies sat and looked at me every mouthful. One of ‘em was about -the size of my kid, and made me think of him a good deal; but he didn’t -look nothin’ like him. I guess ‘twas just because he was a boy and about -the age of mine. After I et the chicken and the bread I started on and -traveled all day without seein’ anyone, except niggers, or stoppin’ -anywhere except to get a drink in a little stream. When it begun to be -dark I commenced to think what I’d do for the night, and watched out for -a place to stay. So after while I saw an old shack ‘side of the road and -went in. There was some straw and I was so tired that I laid down and -went right to sleep. - -“All night I dreamed about bein’ follered. First I thought I was out in -a woods and some hounds was chasin’ me, and I heard ‘em bayin’ way back -on my trail and knew they’s comin’ for me. I run to a little stream and -follered it up same as I used to read in Indian stories, and then -started on again, and after a while I didn’t hear ‘em any more. Then -first thing I knew they commenced bayin’ again and I could tell that -they’d struck my trail, so I run just as fast as ever I could and the -bayin’ kep’ gettin’ louder’n’ louder, and I run through bushes and brush -and ever’thing, and they kep’ gainin’ on me till they was so close that -I got to a little tree where I could almost reach the branches and I got -hold of ‘em and pulled myself up and got ahead of the hounds, but they -come up and set down around the tree and howled and howled so they’d be -heard all through the woods, and I knew it was all up with me; and then -I woke up and found that I was in the barn and no one ‘round except a -cow or a horse that was eatin’ over in a corner. So I tried to go to -sleep again. Then I dreamed that the policemen and detectives was after -me, and first it seemed as if I was runnin’ down a street and the police -was right behind, and then I turned down an alley and they hollered to -me to stop or they’d shoot, but I didn’t stop, and they shot at me and -hit me in the leg, and I fell down and they come up and got me, and then -it seemed as if I was on the cars and detectives was follerin’ me -ever’where, and whenever I stopped them detectives somehow knew where I -was, and they’d come to the place, and I got away and went somewhere -else, and then they’d turn up there, all ready to arrest me, and I -couldn’t go anywhere except they’d follow me. And I kind of saw her -face, and she seemed to be follerin’ me too, only she didn’t seem to -have any legs or much of anything, except just her face and a kind of -long white train and she just come wherever I was, without walkin’ or -ridin’, but just come, and she always seemed to know just the right -place no matter how careful I hid, and when they got all ready to nab me -I woke up. By that time it was daylight and there was a darkey there in -the barn feedin’ a mule, and he said, ‘Hello, boss!’ just as friendly, -and asked me where I was goin’. I told him I was lookin’ for a job, and -he told me he thought that over about four miles to the town I could get -a job. So I told him all right, and asked him if he could give me -somethin’ to eat. He took me into the house and gave me some chicken and -some corn-cakes and told me if I would wait a while he’d hitch up the -mule and take me into town, that he was goin’ anyway. I thanked him and -told him I was in a hurry to get to work, and guessed I wouldn’t wait. -I’d got so I was ‘fraid to talk with anybody. I thought they’d ask me -where I was from, and tell me somethin’ ‘bout Chicago, and mebbe show me -a newspaper with my picture in it. - -“Then I went on down the road till I come to a nice town in the middle -of big pine trees. It was full of fine white houses and a few brick -stores, and two or three great big hotels. I asked a nigger what the -place was and he told me it was Thompson, and was a winter resort for -Yankees who come there for their lungs; that they spent lots of money -and that was what made the place so big. - -“I always liked to talk with the niggers; they never asked me any -questions, and I never was ‘fraid that they’d been in Chicago, and I -didn’t really think they took any of the papers, for they didn’t know -how to read. Well, I just took one look at Thompson and then went as far -from the hotels as I could, and kep’ away from the stores, for I was -sure the place was full of people from Chicago, and that all the -newspapers would be there, too. I didn’t stop a minute over where all -the nice houses was. I seen lots of people out on the porches and -settin’ in hammocks and loafin’ ‘round, and I knew they was from -Chicago. Then I went along across a little stream and come to a lot of -poor tumbled-down houses and tents, and I knew they was the niggers’ -quarters, so I went into a little store kep’ by an old fat nigger lady -and bought a bag of crackers and asked her about the roads. - -“Before this I made up my mind to go to Cuba. I remembered readin’ all -about it at the time of the war, when a lot of them stock-yards boys -went to fight, and I thought that I’d be so far away that I might be -safe, so I knew that I had to go to the Gulf of Mexico, and I kep’ on -that way. I didn’t dare to take the railroads any more, but just thought -I’d walk, so I kep’ straight on down the road all day until I got a long -ways from Thompson. I didn’t dare to stop for work, for I’d got it into -my head that everyone was after me, and if I waited any more I’d get -caught. My shoes was gettin’ pretty near wore out and I knew they -wouldn’t last much longer, and I hadn’t got more’n four dollars left, -and I knew if I didn’t come to the Gulf pretty soon I’d just have to go -to work. - -“That night I stopped at another old shack, and had about the same kind -of dream I did the night before, only I was runnin’, and every time I -pretty near got away a cramp would come in my leg and pull me back and -give ‘em a chance to ketch me, and they seemed to come just the same -without runnin’ or flyin’, or anything, and always she’d come just where -I was. Still I got through the night and a nigger lady gave me somethin’ -to eat, and I went on. - -“I began to look awful ragged and shabby. My coat was torn and awful old -and black where I’d been workin’ in the charcoal pit. I’d changed my -shirt, and washed the one I had on in a little stream, but the buttons -was gettin’ off and I was tyin’ em up with strings. My pants was all -wore out ‘long the bottom, and my shoes pretty near all knocked to -pieces. As for my stockin’s—you couldn’t call ‘em stockin’s at all, and -I’d made up my mind to get a new pair the next store I come to, but I -didn’t like to stop in town. - -“Along about noon I got to a little place and, of course, I was lookin’ -pretty bad. Some o’ the dogs commenced barkin’ at me as soon as ever I -got into town. I stopped at a house to get somethin’ to eat, and a white -lady come to the door and told me to go ‘way, that I was a tramp, and -that she’d set the dog on me, and I ran as fast as I could. I went down -the street and a good many boys follered me, and I began to get scart; -so I went through the town as fast as I could, but I see some people was -follerin’ after me, and one that rode on a horse. So I took to the -fields and made for a clump of trees that I saw off to the right. I run -just as fast as ever I could and when I looked back I saw some people -was follerin’ me through the field. I went straight to the woods and ran -through ‘em, and got pretty badly scratched up, and my clothes tore -worse’n they was before. Then I run into a swamp just beyond and two or -three men ran ‘round on the other side of the swamp and I knew it was -all up, and I might just as well surrender and go back. - -“I was so scart I didn’t care much what they done, so when the one in -front asked me to surrender or he’d shoot, I come out to where he was, -and he put his hand on me kind of rough and said I was under arrest for -bein’ a tramp, and to come with him. - -“Then he took me back to town with all the men follerin’ and when we got -up into the edge of the place ‘most all the boys, black and white, -turned in and follered too. They took me to a little buildin’ over on -the side of the town, and went down stairs into the cellar and opened an -iron door and put me in. There wa’n’t no light except one window which -was covered with iron bars, and they locked the door and went away and -left me there alone.” - - - - - VIII - - -“I was locked up in the cellar for a long time before anyone came to -talk with me. I looked ‘round to see if there was any chance to get out, -but I seen it couldn’t be done. I thought it wa’n’t hardly worth while -to try. Honestly it seemed a kind of relief to be ketched and know I -didn’t have to run any more. I didn’t know why they arrested me, but I -s’posed they just thought I’d done something and they’d try to find out -what it was, so I thought about what I’d do, and made up my mind I -hadn’t better say much. - -“After a while some fellers come down to see me and took me up in the -office. One of ‘em was the marshal and another was a lawyer or -police-judge or somethin’ of that kind. They said they wanted to fill -out some sort of a paper about who I was and where I come from and what -my business was and who my father and mother was, and what my religion -was, and whether I ever drank, or smoked cigarettes, and the color of my -hair and eyes, and how much I weighed, and a lot of things like that. So -I told ‘em I was from St. Louis, and guessed at the rest of the answers -the best I could. Only I told ‘em I never knew who my father and mother -was. They wa’n’t satisfied with my answers and fired a lot more -questions at me. And then they told me they thought I lied, and they’d -put me in the lock-up until mornin’, so they put me back there and give -me a plate o’ scraps for supper, and a straw bed to sleep on, and then -went away. - -“Somehow I slept better that night than I had since I’d run away. I -rather thought it was all up and only a question of time when I’d get -back here, but I knew where I stood and wa’n’t so scart. I’ve slep’ fine -ever since I was here, only the time when the jury was out and when I -was waitin’ for the Supreme Court, and some special times like that. As -near as I can find out most of ‘em does when they know it’s all off, -just like people with a cancer or consumption, or when they’re awful -old. They get used to it and sleep just the same unless they have a -pain, or somethin’. They don’t lay awake thinkin’ they’re goin’ to die. -And after all, I guess if people done that there wouldn’t any of ‘em -sleep much. For ‘tain’t very long with anybody, and bein’ sentenced to -death ain’t much differ’nt from dyin’ without a sentence. Of course, I -s’pose it’s a little shorter and still that ain’t always the case. -There’s two fellers that I knew died since I come here; one of ‘em had -pneumonia, and the other was a switchman that thought the engine was on -the other side-track. John Murphy was his name. Still—I guess my time’s -pretty near come now. - -“Well, in the mornin’ the marshal came in and brought me some breakfast. -Then he took me up to the office again. He waited a few minutes till the -judge come, and then they commenced firin’ questions at me. They asked -me how I got from St. Louis to where I was, That kind of puzzled me, for -I didn’t exactly know where I was. I answered it the best I could; but I -know I didn’t get it right. They told me I hadn’t got over lyin’ and I’d -have to be shut up some more. Then they asked me what public buildin’s -there was in St. Louis. I made a guess and told ‘em the court-house and -state-house. They laughed at this, and said St. Louis wa’n’t the capital -of Missouri. And of course I didn’t argue with ‘em about that. Then they -wanted to know how I come there and I said I walked. And they wanted to -know what places I come through and I couldn’t tell ‘em. Then they asked -me where I had walked, and I couldn’t tell ‘em that; and they asked me -how far I’d walked, and I told ‘em not very far, and they laughed at my -clothes and shoes and said they was ‘most wore out, and they didn’t -believe it, and told me again that they thought I was lyin’ and I’d have -to stay there till I learnt how to tell the truth. Then I got mad and -said I hadn’t done nothin’ and they hadn’t any right to keep me, and I -wouldn’t answer any more questions; that they didn’t believe anything I -said anyhow and it wa’n’t any use, and to go ahead and do what they -pleased with me. - -“Then the marshal went to his desk and got a lot of photographs and -hand-bills tellin’ about murderers and robbers and burglars and -pickpockets and ever’thing else, that was sent to him from all over the -country, and he took ‘em and looked ‘em all over and then looked at me. -Then he sorted out a dozen or so and stared at me more particular than -before. I seen what he had in his hand; I seen one of ‘em was my -picture; only I was smooth-faced and now my whiskers had got long. He -made me take off my clothes and looked me over careful, and found where -I had broke my leg the time that I caught my foot between the rails when -I thought I was goin’ to be run over. You remember the time? I wish now -I had. Then he let me put on my clothes, and he went over all the -descriptions just as careful as he could, and he found that the -hand-bill told about a broken leg; then he looked at my face again, and -then he asked me when I’d shaved last, and I told him I never shaved. -Then he wanted to know how tall I was, and I told him I didn’t know, so -he measured me by standin’ me up ‘gainst the wall and markin’ the place. -I tried to scrooch down as much as I could without him noticin’ it; but -he said it was just ‘bout what the hand-bill had it. Then he asked me -how much I weighed, and I told him I hadn’t been weighed for years. So -he called someone to help him, and they put some han’cuffs on one arm -and fastened the other to the marshal and took me over to a store, and -made me stand on the scales till I got weighed. He said I weighed just a -little bit less than the hand-bill made it, and that if I’d walked from -Chicago that would account for the difference. Then he looked over my -clothes, but he couldn’t find any marks on ‘em. - -“Then he sent down for the barber and told him to shave me. I objected -to that and told him he hadn’t any right to do it; that I wasn’t charged -with any crime, and he said it didn’t make no difference, he was goin’ -to do it anyway. So I knew it wa’n’t no use, and I set down and let the -barber shave me. Of course I knew it would all be up as soon as I got -shaved. But I didn’t care so very much if it was; it wa’n’t any worse -than runnin’ all the time and bein’ ‘fraid of ever’-one you met and -knowin’ you’d be ketched at last. - -“Well, after the barber got through shavin’ me, the marshal took the -picture and held it up ‘side of my face, and anyone could see ‘twas me. -He was so glad he almost shouted. And he told the police judge that he’d -got one of the most dangerous criminals in the whole United States, and -he was entitled to one thousand dollars reward. I never see a boy feel -so good over anythin’ as he did over ketchin’ me. He said that now he -could pay off the mortgage on his house and get his girl piano lessons, -and run for sheriff next fall. When he told me I was Jackson, I denied -it and said I never knew anything about Chicago, and was never there in -my life. He didn’t pay any attention to this, but wired to Chicago, -givin’ a full description of me. Of course, it wa’n’t long before he got -back word that I was Jackson, and to hold me till they sent someone -down. - -“After the marshal found out who I was he treated me a good deal -better’n before. He got me nice fried chicken ‘most every meal, and -always coffee or tea and corn-cakes, and I couldn’t complain of the -board. Then he got my clothes washed and give me some new pants and -shoes and fixed me up quite nice. He come in and visited with me a good -deal and seemed real social and happy. He give me cigars to smoke and -sometimes a drink o’ whiskey, and treated me as if he really liked me. I -expect he couldn’t help feelin’ friendly to me, because he thought of -that one thousand dollars, and that he wouldn’t’ve got it if I hadn’t -killed her, and in one way a good deal as if I done it on his account. -Of course he wa’n’t really glad I done it, but so long as I done it, he -was glad I come his way. I s’pose he hadn’t anything against me any -more’n a cat has against a mouse that it ketches and plays with till it -gets ready to eat it up. His business was ketchin’ people just like the -cat’s is ketchin’ rats. Seems to me, though, I’d hate to be in his -business, even if it is a bad lot you’ve got to ketch. Still he watched -me closer’n ever, even if he was good to me. He didn’t mean to let that -thousand dollars get away. He kep’ someone ‘round the jail all the time, -and he got some extra bars on the windows, and when he come to see me or -talk with me he always brought someone with him so I couldn’t do -anything to him. He needn’t worried so much, for I was clean tired out -and discouraged, and I felt better in there than I had any time since I -killed her. Bein’ out of jail ain’t necessar’ly liberty. If you’re -‘fraid all the time and have got to dodge and keep hid and can’t go -where you want to and are runnin’ away all the time, you might just as -well be shut up, for you ain’t free. - -“Soon as the marshal found out who I was, it didn’t take the news long -to travel ‘round the town, and it seemed as if ever’one there come to -the lock-up to see me. The boys used to come up ‘round the windows and -kind of stay back, as if they thought I might reach out and ketch ‘em, -but I always kep’ as far away as I could. Then the people would come -down with the marshal to the cell when he brought my supper and look at -me to see me eat, and try to get me to come up and talk to ‘em and watch -me same as you’ve seen ‘em look at bears when they was feedin’ up at -Lincoln Park, and they’d point to me and say, ‘That’s him; just see his -for’head. Wouldn’t I hate to get caught out alone with him? Anyone could -see what he is by lookin’ at him. I bet they make short work of him when -they get him to Chicago!’ I always kep’ back as far as I could for I -didn’t want to be seen. No one had ever looked at me or paid any -attention to me before, or said anything about me, and I hadn’t ever -expected to have my name or picture in the paper, or to have people come -and see me, and anyhow not this way. - -“Of course, I knew well enough that it wouldn’t last long, and that -they’d be here for me in two or three days. I can’t tell you just how I -felt. I knew I was caught, and that there wa’n’t much chance for me. I -knew all the evidence would be circumstantial, still I knew I done it, -and luck never had come my way anyhow, so I didn’t have much hopes that -‘twould now. Then I began to feel as if it might as well be over. If I -was goin’ to be hung, I might just as well be hung and done with it. -There wa’n’t any kind of a show for me any more, and it wa’n’t any use -to fight. Then I began to figger on how long ‘twould take. I knew there -was cases where it took years, but I always thought them cases must have -been where they had lots of money and could hire high-priced lawyers. -And I hadn’t got any money, and the newspapers had said so much about my -case that I was sure that they wouldn’t give me much chance or any more -than the law allowed. - -“Well, inside of two days some fellers come down from the sheriff’s -office in Chicago. I didn’t know either one of ‘em, but they had all -kinds of pictures and descriptions and said there wa’n’t any doubt about -who I was, and said I might as well own up and be done with it. But I -didn’t see any use of ownin’ up to anything, so I wouldn’t answer any -questions or say much one way or another. Then they explained to me that -they hadn’t any right to take me out of the state without a requisition -from the gov’nor, and it would take a week or so to get that, and I -might just as well go back with them without puttin’ ‘em to this bother; -that it always looked better when anyone went back themselves, and -anyhow I’d be kep’ here in jail till they got a requisition. So I told -‘em all right, I’d just as soon go back to Chicago as anywhere, and I -hadn’t done nothin’ that I had to be ‘fraid of, and was ready to go as -soon as they was. So they stayed till the next mornin’ and then -han’-cuffed me and put me between ‘em and led me down to the depot. -Before I left the lock-up the marshal give me a good breakfast and some -cigars and shook hands with me, and said he hoped I’d have a pleasant -journey. - -“When I went down to the depot it seemed as if the whole town, black and -white, had turned out to see me, and ever’one was pointin’ to me and -sayin’, ‘That’s him; that’s him.’ ‘He looks it, don’t he?’ And pretty -soon the train come up and the officers and conductor kep’ the crowd -back while they took me into the smokin’-car. It seemed as if ever’one -in the car and on the whole train knew who I was and just what I’d done, -and they all come up to the smokin’-car to get a look at me, and pass -remarks about me, and ever’one seemed glad to think I was caught and was -goin’ to be hung. - -“It ain’t no use to tell you all about the trip home. It didn’t take me -as long to come back as it did to go ‘way. At pretty near ever’ station -there was a crowd out to see the train, and all of ‘em tried to get a -look at me. The conductor and brakemen all pointed me out and the people -come to the doors and stood up before the window and did ever’thing they -could think of to see me. The detectives treated me all right. They gave -me all I could eat and talked with me a good deal. They didn’t ask many -questions, and told me I needn’t say any more’n I had a mind to, but -they told me a good deal about politics and how that the alderman was -runnin’ again, and all that was goin’ on in Chicago, and where all -they’d been huntin’ for me since I run away. I had to sit up at night. -One of ‘em kep’ han’-cuffed to me all night and another han’cuff was -fastened to the seat. I don’t s’pose they could’ve made it any more -comfortable and see that I didn’t run away. But still I don’t ever want -to take that kind of a ride again and I s’pose I never will. - -“I felt queer when we began to get back into Chicago. In some ways I -always liked the city; I guess ever’one does, no matter how rough it is. -And I couldn’t help feelin’ kind of good to see the streets and -fac’tries and shops again; and still I felt bad, too. I knew that -ever’one in the town was turned against me, and I didn’t have a friend -anywhere. We’d got the Chicago papers as we’d come along and they was -full of all kinds of stories and pictures about me, and some things that -I’d said, ‘though I’d never talked a word to anyone. - -“The papers said that they hoped there’d be none of the usual long -delays in tryin’ my case, that I was a brutal murderer, and there wa’n’t -no use of spendin’ much time over me. Of course, I ought to have a fair -and impartial trial, but I ought to be hung without delay, and no -sentimental notoriety-huntin’ people ought to be allowed to see me. They -wished that a judge could be found who had the courage to do his duty, -and do it right off quick. I had already been indicted, and there wa’n’t -nothin’ to do but place me on trial next day, and the verdict would be -reached in a few days more. It was unfortunate that the law allowed one -hundred days before a murderer could be hung after trial; that the next -legislature must change it to ten days; that would be plenty of time for -anyone to show that a mistake had been made in their trial, even if he -was locked up all the time. The papers said how that the Anti-Crimes -Committee was to be congratulated on havin’ found a good lawyer to -assist the state in the prosecution, and that the lawyer was a good -public spirited man and ought to be well paid for his disagreeable work. - -“The papers told all about the arrest down in Georgia, and how the -marshal and a force of citizens followed me into the swamp and what a -desperate fight I made, and how many people I’d knocked down and ‘most -killed, until I was finally overpowered and taken in irons to the county -jail. - -“I can’t make you understand how I felt when they was bringin’ me into -town. We come along down the old canal where we used to stone the frogs -and the geese and all along the places where us boys used to play. Then -we come down through the yards where I used to work, and right past the -house where I left that night with the kid sleepin’ in the bedroom. That -was the hardest part of all the trip, and I tried to turn away when we -come down along back of the barn by the alley; but it seemed as if -something kind of drew my eyes around that way, and I couldn’t keep ‘em -off’n the spot. And I thought about ever’thing I done there just in a -flash, and even wondered how long the old horse was tied in the barn -before they found him, and whether he got all the potatoes et up before -he was took away. But I looked away as quick as I could and watched all -the streets as we passed, to see if I could see anyone I knew. I felt -pretty sure that I wouldn’t leave Chicago again, and I guess I never -will. - -“Pretty soon they pulled into the big depot, and the train stopped and -we got off. I wa’n’t expectin’ nothin’ in the station, but when we -landed the whole place was filled back of the gate, and I could see that -they was looking for me. The crowd was about like one that I was in down -there once when McKinley come to Chicago. A squad of policemen come down -to meet us, and they got us in the middle of the bunch and hurried us -into a patrol wagon. I could hear the crowd sayin’, ‘That’s him; that’s -the murderer; let’s lynch him!’—‘He don’t deserve a trial! Let’s hang -him first and then try him’—‘The miserable brute!’ ‘The contemptible -coward!’—I guess if it hadn’t been for all the policemen I’d have been -lynched, and mebbe ‘twould have been just as well. ‘Twouldn’t have taken -so long, nor cost so much money. Anyhow, I wish now they’d done it and -then it would be all over; and now—well, ‘twon’t be long. - -“There was a lot of people in the street and every one of ‘em seemed to -know who was in the patrol-wagon, and they walked all the way over, and -lots of little boys follered the wagon clear to the jail; then the -newsboys on the street kep’ yellin’, ‘All ‘bout the capture of Jim -Jackson! Extra paper!’ and it seemed as if the whole town was tryin’ to -kill me. Somehow I hadn’t realized how ‘twas as I come ‘long, and, in -fact, ever since I went away. Of course, I knew how bad the killin’ was, -and how ever’one must feel, and how I wished I hadn’t done it, and how -I’d have done anything on earth to make it different, but all the time -I’d been away from the people that knew all about it, and I didn’t -somehow realize what they’d do. But when I come back and seen it all I -felt just as if there was a big storm out on the lake and I was standin’ -on the shore and all the waves was comin’ right over me and carryin’ me -away. - -“Well, they didn’t lose any time but drove as fast as they could down -Dearborn Street over the bridge to the county jail. Then they hustled me -right out and took me straight through the crowd up to the door; the -Dearborn Street door (that’s the one you came in, I s’pose), and they -didn’t wait hardly a minit to book me, but hurried me up stairs and -locked me in a cell, and I haven’t seen the outside of the jail since, -and I don’t s’pose I ever will.” - -Jim stopped as if the remembrance of it all had overpowered him. Hank -didn’t know what to say, so he got up and walked a few turns back and -forth along the cell, trying to get it all through his clouded mind. -Such a night as this he had never dreamed of, and he could not yet -realize what it meant. The long story and the intense suffering seemed -to have taken all the strength that Jim had left. - -Hank turned to him with an effort to give him some consolation. “Say, -Jim, don’t take it too hard. You know there ain’t much in it for any of -us, and most people has more trouble than anything else. Lay down a -little while; you can tell me the rest pretty soon.” - -“No,” Jim answered, “I ain’t got through; I can’t waste any time. It -must be gettin’ along toward mornin’, and you see I don’t know just when -it’ll be. They seem to think it’s treatin’ us better if they don’t tell -us when, only just the day. Then you know, they can come in any time -after midnight. They could break in now if they wanted to, but I s’pose -they’ll give me my breakfast first, though they won’t wait long after -that. Well, I ain’t got any right to complain, and I don’t mean to, but -I s’pose I feel like anyone else would.” - -Just then a strange dull sound echoed through the silent corridors. Hank -started with a nervous jerk. It sounded like a rope or strap suddenly -pulled up short and tight. - -“What’s that?” Hank asked. Jim’s face was pale for a moment, and his -breath was short and heavy. - -“Don’t you know? That’s the bag of sand.” - -“What bag of sand?” Hank asked. - -“Why, they always try the rope that way, to see if it’s all right. If -they don’t, it’s liable to break, and they’d have to hang ‘em over -again. They take a bag of sand that weighs just about the same as a man -and tie the rope to the sand, and then knock the door out and the sand -falls. I guess the rope’s all right; I hope so. I don’t want ‘em to make -any mistake. It’ll be bad enough to be hung once. I wonder how I’ll -stand it. I hope I don’t make a scene. But I don’t really think anyone -ought to be blamed no matter what they do when they’re gettin’ hung, do -you? - -“It seems to me, though, that they might be a better way to kill anyone. -I think shootin’ would be better’n this way. That’s the way they kill -steers down to the stock-yards and I don’t believe the Humane Society -would let ‘em hang ‘em up by the neck. I should think ‘twould be better -to take some cell that’s air-tight and put ‘em to bed in there and then -turn on the gas. But I s’pose any way would seem bad enough. Did you -ever stop to think how you’d like to die? I guess nobody could pick any -way that they wanted to go, and mebbe we’d all rather take chances; but -I don’t believe anybody’d pick hangin’. It seems to me the very worst -way anybody could die. I wonder how they commenced it in the first -place. Well, I can’t help it by thinkin’ it over. I’ve done that often -enough already, goodness knows. I believe I’ll ask the guard for another -drink before I tell any more.” - -The guard came at the first call. - -“Sure, you can have all the whiskey you want. I was just down to the -office a little while ago. Take this bottle. I think it’s pretty smooth, -but it’s a little weak. Guess the clerk poured some water in, thinkin’ -it was goin’ to the ladies’ ward. You’d better take a pretty big drink -to do you any good.” - -Jim thanked him as he took the bottle, and then inquired: - -“Did you go down to the telephone again to see whether there had -anything come over to the telegraph office?” - -“No—I didn’t,” the guard answered, “but I’ll go back pretty soon. They -keep open all night. It’s early yet, anyhow.” - -Jim offered the bottle to his friend. Hank took a good drink, which he -needed after the excitement of the night. Then he passed the bottle back -to Jim. - -“If I was you I’d drink all that’s left; it’s good, but it’s pretty -weak, all right. I’m sure you’d feel better to take it all.” - -Jim raised it to his lips, tipped his head back and held the bottle -almost straight until the last drop had run slowly down his throat. - - - - - IX - - -Jim laid the bottle on the bed and then sat down on his chair. - -“My head begins to swim some but I guess I can finish the story all -right. I know I’m pretty longwinded. Still I guess I can’t talk very -much more if I wanted to. I’m glad the whiskey’s beginnin’ to get in its -work; I don’t believe I’ll have much trouble gettin’ so drunk that I -won’t know whether I’m goin’ to a hangin’ or a primary. - -“Let me see; oh, yes, they hustled me into a cell and locked me up. I -guess they thought best not to waste much time, for a good many people -had got together on the outside. - -“I think ‘twas on Friday they put me in. There wa’n’t nothin’ done on -Saturday; but on Sunday they let us all go to church up in the chapel. -They kep’ me pretty well guarded as if I might do somethin’ in the -church, but there wa’n’t no way to get out if I wanted to. The preacher -told us about the prodigal son, and how he repented of all his -wanderin’s and sins and come back home, and how glad his father was to -see him, and how he treated him better’n any of the rest that hadn’t -never done wrong. He said that’s the way our Heavenly Father would feel -about us, if we repented, and that it didn’t matter what we’d done—after -we repented we was white as snow. One of the prisoners told me he was -gettin’ kind of tired of the prodigal son; that ‘most every preacher -that come told about the prodigal son just as if that story had been -meant specially for them. - -“Some of the prisoners seemed to like to go to church; some acted as if -they understood all about it, and wanted to do better, and some of ‘em -seemed to go so as to get out of their cells. Anyhow I s’pose the people -that run the jail thought ‘twas a good thing and believed it was all so. -But I know one feller that killed a man—he was kind of half-witted—and -was tried the same as the rest of us when they had that crusade against -crime. Of course they sentenced him to death. He got religion and used -to pray all the time, and used to talk religion to all the rest of the -fellers, and ever’one said that he was really sorry and was fully -converted and was as pure as a little child. But they took him out and -hung him anyway. It don’t quite seem as if they believed what the -preacher said themselves, or they wouldn’t hang a feller when he’s -turned right, and when God was goin’ to treat him like all the rest -after he gets to heaven. - -“When I went back to my cell, I begun thinkin’ about what I’d do. Of -course I knew you can’t get any show without a lawyer, and I knew that I -might just as well not have any as to have one that wa’n’t smart. I -didn’t know any lawyer except the one that charged me ten dollars for -nothin’, and of course I wouldn’t have him. But one of the guards was -kind of nice and friendly to me and I thought I’d ask him. He told me -that gettin’ a lawyer was a pretty hard matter. Of course, my case was a -celebrated one, and would advertise a lawyer, but the best ones didn’t -need no advertisin’ and the others wa’n’t no good. He told me that -Groves was the best fighter, but it wa’n’t no use to try to get him for -he’d got more’n he could do, and most of his time was took up -prosecutin’ people for stealin’ coal from the railroads, except once in -a while when some rich banker or politician got into trouble. Then he -took a good slice of what he’d got saved up. I asked him ‘bout some -others and he told me the same story of all the rest that amounted to -anything. I told him I hadn’t got no money, and I thought the horse and -wagon and furniture was took on the chattel-mortgage before this, and he -said he s’posed the court would have to appoint someone and I might just -about as well defend myself. - -“Monday mornin’ they come to the jail and told me I had to go before the -judge. I didn’t s’pose ‘twould come so soon, for I knew somethin’ about -how slow the courts was. You remember when Jimmy Carroll was killed by -the railroad? Well, that’s more’n three years ago, and the case ha’n’t -been tried yet. I was su’prised and didn’t know what to do, but there -wa’n’t much to do. They come after me and I had to go; so I put on my -coat and vest and they han’-cuffed me to a couple of guards, and took me -through some alleys and passages and over some bridges inside the -buildin’, and first thing I knew they opened a door and I came into a -room packed full of people, and the judge settin’ up on a big high seat -with a desk in front of him, and lookin’ awful solemn and kind of -scareful. As soon as I stepped in there was a buzz all over the room, -and ever’body reached out their necks, and kind of got up on their -chairs and looked at me. The guards took off my han’-cuffs and set me -down in a chair ‘side of a big table. And then one of ‘em set back of me -and another one right to my side. - -“They waited a few minutes till ever’one got still, and then some feller -got up and spoke to the judge and said ‘People against Jackson.’ The -judge looked at me and said, just as solemn and hard as he could, -‘Jackson, stand up.’ Of course I done what he said, and then he looked -the same way and said, ‘Are you guilty or not guilty?’ Of course I was -kind of scared before all of them people; I’d never been called up in a -crowd before, except a few times when I said a few words in the union -where I knew all the boys. But these people were all against me, and -anyhow it was an awful hard place to put a feller, so I stood still a -minit tryin’ to think what I ought to say, and whether someone was there -that I could talk to. Finally the judge spoke up and says, ‘The prisoner -pleads not guilty.’ ‘Jackson, have you a lawyer?’ and then I said: ‘I -hain’t got no lawyer.’ Then he asked if I wanted him to appoint one, and -I told him I wished he would. He asked me who I’d have. Of course I -thought I could choose anyone I wanted, so I said Groves. Then he -laughed and ever’one else laughed, and he said he guessed Groves had too -much to do to bother with me. So I chose one or two more names I’d heard -of, and he said none of ‘em would do it neither. Then he said he’d give -me till tomorrow to make up my mind who I wanted, and he told the -bailiff to take me back to jail. So they put the han’-cuffs on and we -went back through the alleys and over the bridges to the jail. When I -got to my cell I asked the guard what he thought I ought to do about a -lawyer, and he said that lots of lawyers had give him their cards and -asked him to hand them to the prisoners and told him they would divide -the fee, if they got any. They mostly wa’n’t much good for the business. -He said there was one young feller who seemed pretty smart, but he -hadn’t never had a case, but he’d probably work hard to get his name up. -I told him that it didn’t seem as if a lawyer ought to commence on a -case like mine, and he said that wouldn’t make any difference, most of -the murder cases was defended by lawyers that was just startin’. There -wa’n’t hardly anyone who was tried but was too poor to have a good -lawyer. Then I told him to send me the young lawyer, and he did. - -“The lawyer wa’n’t a bad feller, and he seemed interested in the case, -and was the first person I’d seen since I done it who wanted to help me. -Of course I could see he was new at the business, like one of them -green-horns that comes in the yards the first time and brings a stick to -couple cars with; but I liked his face and seen he was honest. It didn’t -seem quite fair, though, that I should have a lawyer that hadn’t never -had a case. I didn’t believe they’d take a young feller who was just out -of a medicine-college and set him to cut off a leg all by himself, the -first thing, or even take a country-jake and let him kill steers at the -stock-yards, but I didn’t see no way to help it, and I thought mebbe if -I didn’t take him I’d do worse instead of better. He asked me all about -the case and seemed disappointed when I told him how it was; he said he -was afraid there wa’n’t much show, unless he claimed insanity. I told -him I didn’t see how he could make out that I was crazy; that I thought -self-defense or somethin’ like that would be better. He said he’d think -it over till tomorrow, and talk with some of the professors at the -college, and be in court in the mornin’. The next day they come for me -right after breakfast, and put on the han’-cuffs and took me to court -again. The same kind of a crowd was there as the day before, and I was -pretty badly scart; but my lawyer was at the table with me, and he spoke -to me real friendly, and that made me feel a little better. Then the -judge called the case, and asked if I had a lawyer, and my lawyer spoke -up and said he was goin’ to defend me; so the judge said all right, and -asked if the other side was ready. They said they was, and that they -wanted the case tried right off. Then the judge asked my lawyer if he -was ready and he said ‘no,’ that he’d just come into the case and hadn’t -had no chance to get it ready. Then the lawyer on the other side said -that I was notified yesterday that I must be ready today and I didn’t -have anything to do but get ready; that they wanted to try it now; that -next week he wanted to go to a picnic, and the week after to a -convention, and it must be done now; then, there had been so many -murders that no one was safe in Chicago, and the whole public was -anxious to see the case tried at once. Besides there wa’n’t any defense. -I had killed her and run away, and wa’n’t entitled to any consideration. - -“My lawyer said it wouldn’t be right to put me on trial without a chance -to defend myself, that I couldn’t get away yesterday to look up -witnesses, and I had a right to a reasonable time; that he wanted at -least four weeks to prepare the case. This seemed to make the judge mad. -He said there wa’n’t no excuse for any delay, but as this was such a -clear case he wanted to give me every chance he could, so he would -continue till next Monday. Then I was took back to the jail, and my -lawyer met me over there and I told him ever’ place I went the day I -done it, and ever’one I saw, and all about her, and what she’d done to -make me mad, and he said he’d go out himself and look it up, and do what -he could, but he was ‘fraid there wa’n’t no chance. The papers had said -so much and the citizens had got up a Crime Committee, and ever’one who -was tried either went to the penitentiary or got hung. - -“Ever’day the lawyer would come and ask me something ‘bout the case, and -tell me what he’d found out. He said he couldn’t get any witnesses to -say anything; that the man where I got the beefsteak was ‘fraid to come -and testify; that someone had been there from the State’s Attorney’s -office and most scart him to death, and he was ‘fraid of gettin’ into -trouble and gettin’ mixed up with it himself, and anyway he didn’t see -as he’d do the case any good if he came. He said he couldn’t find -anything that helped him a bit. He’d been to the house, but the poker -and everything that would do any good had been taken by the state, and -he didn’t know which way to turn. He kep’ comin’ back to my insanity, -and asked me if any of my parents or grand-parents, or uncles or aunts -or cousins, or anyone else was crazy. I told him I didn’t know anything -‘bout them but I didn’t think it was any use to try that. I knew what I -was doin’, all right. Then he told me if I had a hundred dollars he -could get a good doctor to swear I was crazy; but I hadn’t any hundred -dollars of course, and besides I never thought ‘twould do much good. So -I told him that he wa’n’t to blame for it, and to just do the best he -could, and I’d be satisfied whichever way it went. I didn’t expect much -myself anyhow. He said he’d have me plead guilty and the judge would -most likely give me a life-sentence, only since this crusade against -crime the judges dassent do that; there was so much said about it in the -newspapers, and they was all ‘fraid of what the papers said. He told me -that he didn’t believe it was anything more than second-degree murder -anyhow, but there wa’n’t any chance now, the way public opinion was. - -“I begun to get pretty well acquainted with the prisoners in the jail -and some of ‘em was real nice and kind and wanted to do all they could -to help ever’one that was in trouble. Of course some of ‘em was pretty -desp’rate, and didn’t seem to care much for anything. Then there was -some that had been in jail ten and fifteen times, and been in the -penitentiary, and ever’where, and just as soon as they got out they got -right back in again; they didn’t seem to learn anything by goin’ to -prison, and it didn’t seem to do them any hurt. They said they’d just as -soon be there as anywhere else. - -“But one thing I noticed a good deal that I never thought anything about -until that feller come and spoke, that was how that the outsiders was -really the ones that got punished the worst. It was sickenin’ to see how -some of them poor women would cry and take on because their man was in -jail, and how they’d work and scrub night and day and nearly kill -themselves to earn money to get him out; and then the little children -that come to see their fathers, how they’d stay out of school and work -in the packin’-houses and laundries and do anything for a little money -to help them out. Hones’ly I believe if anyone stays ‘round here for a -week he’ll see that the people that ain’t done nothin’ is punished a -good deal more’n the others. Why, there was one awful pretty-lookin’ -girl used to come here to see her father, and the fellers told me that -she was studyin’ music or somethin’ like that, and her father was put in -jail on a fine, and she came here to see him every day, and done all she -could to earn the money to get him out, but she couldn’t do it, and -finally she went into one of them sportin’ houses down on Clark Street, -and lived there long enough to get the money. I don’t know, of course, -whether it’s so, but I don’t see why not. Lots of the girls go to the -department stores and laundries and stock-yards and they ain’t much -harder places on a girl’s health. Anybody’ll do everything they can to -earn money to save anyone they care for. - -“Well, the week went away pretty fast. I didn’t s’pose ‘twas so hard to -get a case continued. You know that Carroll case? You remember we quit -our work four or five times and lost our pay, and the judge continued it -just because the lawyer had somethin’ else to do. But I knew ‘twouldn’t -be no use for me to try to get mine continued any more. And I didn’t -care much. I was gettin’ so I’d just about as soon be done with it as -not, and still I was pretty sure I’d be hung. - -“The next Monday mornin’ I was taken into court the same way, and the -han’-cuffs was unlocked, and I was set down to the table by my lawyer. -One guard set just back of me and the other at the side. Someone started -a story that a gang of Bridgeport toughs was comin’ to rescue me, but of -course there wa’n’t nothin’ in it. I didn’t have a friend that even come -to see me—but the newspapers all printed the story, and, of course, that -was against me too. - -“When the judge called the case, he asked if we was ready, and my lawyer -said he needed more time; that he’d done all he could to get ready, but -he hadn’t had time. But the judge wouldn’t pay a bit of attention to -him, and said he must go to trial at once, and told the bailiff to call -a jury. So the bailiff called the names of twelve men and they took -their seats in two rows of chairs along one side of the room. Ever’ one -of ‘em looked at me as if he didn’t like to be in the same room where I -was. Then the lawyers commenced askin’ ‘m questions—where they lived, -and how long they had lived there, and where they lived before, and how -much rent they paid, and what they worked at, and how long they’d worked -there, and what they’d done before, and what their fathers done, and -where they come from, and was they dead, and if they was married, and -how many times, and if they had children, and how many, and how old, and -if they was boys or girls, and if the children went to school, and what -they studied, and if they belonged to the church, and what one, and if -they belonged to any societies or lodges or labor unions, or knew -anyone, or read the papers, or didn’t believe in hangin’ people, and if -they believed in ‘circumstantial evidence,’ and if they’d hang on -circumstantial evidence, and if they believed in the law—and a lot of -other things that I can’t remember. If anyone didn’t believe in hangin’ -he was let go right away; and if they didn’t believe in circumstantial -evidence they didn’t keep ‘em either. - -“The other lawyer asked questions first and it didn’t take him very long -to get the ones that he wanted. Ever’one said he believed in hangin’, -and they all said they’d hang anybody on circumstantial evidence. After -he got through my lawyer questioned ‘em. They all said that they’d read -all about the case, and had formed an opinion about it—and they all -looked at me as if they had. Then my lawyer objected to ‘em, and the -judge said to each one, ‘Well, even if you have formed an opinion, don’t -you think you could lay that aside and not pay any attention to it, and -try the case on the evidence and give the prisoner the benefit of the -doubt? Don’t you think that in spite of the opinion you could presume -him innocent when you begin?’ Most of ‘em said they could; one of ‘em -said he couldn’t. Then the judge lectured him for not bein’ able to give -anyone a fair trial, no matter who he was, and said we’d have to take -the others, and told us to go ahead and get another one. So my lawyer -tried another one and found him just like the rest. But the judge made -us take him anyway. He said they was perfectly fair jurors, and we -couldn’t expect to get men that sympathized with crime. - -“It ain’t any use to tell you all about gettin’ the jury, and then I -hain’t got time. Both sides had a right to strike off twenty without any -reason at all, only that they didn’t like ‘em. We took a long time to -get a jury. We didn’t get much of any until after we had struck off -‘most all of our twenty. All the jurors seemed to have made up their -minds, but pretty nearly all of ‘em said it didn’t make any difference; -they could give me a fair trial even if their minds was made up. - -“I noticed that they struck off workin’-men and Catholics, and people -that didn’t have any religion, and foreigners, and I noticed my lawyer -struck off Baptists, and Presbyterians, and Swedes, and G. A. R.’s. It -took three or four days to get the jury, and then we hadn’t any more -challenges left, and so we had to take ‘em. Pretty near ever’one of ‘em -said they’d read all about the case in all the papers and had their -minds made up. I knew, of course, that meant they was against me. But -still they all said that didn’t make no difference if they had got their -minds made up, they could forget their opinions and go at the case as if -they believed I was innocent. But ever’one of ‘em said he believed in -hangin’, and all of ‘em said that circumstantial evidence was good -enough for him. I set there ‘side of the table with my lawyer and looked -‘em over, and tried to make up my mind what they was thinkin’ of, but -they wa’n’t one of ‘em would look at me when they knew I was lookin’, -and I could see from the way they did that they was sure all the time -that I done it, and ought to swing. Of course, I know it’s the law that -when a feller’s placed on trial they’re s’posed to be innocent, but I -knew that the judge and all them twelve men felt sure I was guilty or I -wouldn’t have been there. Of course I done it. I don’t know anything -that would’ve done any good, but all the same it’s pretty tough to be -tried by a jury when they think you ought to be hung before they -commence. - -“After they got the jury the other lawyer told ‘em about the case, and -he made it awful black. I don’t know how he ever found out all the -things he said. Of course a good many of ‘em was true and a good many -wa’n’t true, but he made out that I was the worst man that ever lived. -The judge listened to ever’ word he said and looked over to me ever’ -once in a while, as if he wondered how I ever could’ve done it, and was -glad that I was where I belonged at last. The jury watched ever’ word -the lawyer said, and looked at me ever’ once in a while to see how I -stood it. Of course it was mighty hard, but I done the best I could. -When he got through the judge asked my lawyer what he had to say, and he -said he wouldn’t tell his side now. Then they commenced puttin’ in the -evidence. - -“I s’pose you read all about it at the time, but the papers always gave -me the worst of it, and the evidence wa’n’t near so bad as it looked in -the papers. Of course they proved about the boy goin’ out the next -mornin’ to the neighbors, and cryin’ for his pa and ma, and about -ever’one lookin’ all over for us without findin’ us nor any trace of -either one, and about the horse and wagon both lookin’ as if it had been -out all night. And then the folks as lived next door told about hearin’ -me say ‘you damned bitch,’ and hearin’ someone fall, though they didn’t -think much of it then as they’d heard so many rows before. And then they -told about findin’ a piece of brown paper covered with blood, and then -they brought in a doctor, or someone who said he’d examined it with a -magnifyin’ glass and it was human blood. He wa’n’t quite sure whether it -was a gentleman or a lady; but he knew ‘twas one or the other. Then they -brought in the paper and handed it to the jury, and passed it down along -both rows, and ever’one took it in his hand and felt it, and looked at -it just as if they never had seen any paper like that before, and wanted -to make sure ‘twas paper and not cloth. Of course the minute I seen it I -knew it was the paper that had the beefsteak in it, and I told my lawyer -what it was. An’ I got right up to say something and the judge looked at -me just as cross and says ‘Set down and keep still; you’ve got a lawyer -to talk for you, and if you say anything more, I’ll send you to jail.’ -Of course I was scart to hear him speak to me that way before the jury -and the whole room full of people, and I knew that it would show -ever’one that the judge was against me. Some of the papers next day made -out that I jumped up and was goin’ to run away when I seen the bloody -paper. - -“My lawyer had another doctor examine a piece of the paper that night, -and he said it was a cow or an ox, but he wouldn’t come and testify to -it unless I’d give him a hundred dollars, but of course I didn’t have -that. The court room was awful still when they passed around that paper; -you could hear the jurors breathe and they held their heads down as if -they felt sorry about somethin’. And after they’d looked it all over the -lawyer took it, and the judge says: ‘Let me see that paper,’ and he put -on his spectacles and looked it all over, first on one side and then on -the other. He had a little bit of a magnifyin’ glass in one hand, and he -put it over the paper and looked at it through the glass, and then he -looked at me just as solemn as if it was a funeral, and I seen it was -all up with me. Of course, I told my lawyer just where I got it and what -it was, and he went down to the butcher shop and seen the man, but the -man was ‘fraid to come, and said he didn’t remember ‘bout the steak nor -about me; he guessed he’d seen me—I used to come down that way to -peddle—but he couldn’t tell whether I was in the shop that night or not. - -“Then they brought the boys who had found her in a pool of water out on -the prairie two or three days after, and they brought some of the -clothes she had on. They was all covered with mud, and they passed ‘em -all around to the jury and the judge, just the same as they did the -paper. Of course, these did look pretty bad, and they made me feel kind -of faint, for I’d thought about her a good deal the last few days, and -dreamed about her almost every night, and sometimes I’d dream that -ever’thing was all right, and then wake up and remember just how ‘twas. -I don’t know which is worse: to dream that the thing was done and see it -all before you, just as if you were doin’ it all over again, and then -wake up and know it was a dream, and then know it was so, or to dream -that you’re livin’ together all right and are happy, and then wake up -and find that’s a dream, and you’re in jail for murder and can’t never -get out alive. - -“Then they proved about how the poker just fit into the place in her -head, and how it was took back into the kitchen and put into the ashes -again, so ‘twouldn’t show, and how far I drove that day, and ever’ -saloon I stopped into on the way, and just how much I drank, and -ever’thing I done, except the beefsteak I bought and that half peck of -potatoes that I gave away to the old lady. Then they proved all about my -runnin’ away, and where I’d been, and what I’d done, and my changin’ my -name, and the way I was caught. - -“A good many times my lawyer objected to something that they tried to -prove, or to something that the other feller was sayin’, but ever’ time -the judge decided ‘gainst my lawyer, and he ‘most always seemed kind of -mad when my lawyer said anything. The other one was a good deal the -smartest; ever’one said he wanted to be a judge, and he took all the -murder cases he could get, and they called him the ‘hangin’ lawyer,’ -because ever’one he had anything to do with got hung. - -“There was always a big crowd in the court room ever’ day, and a lot of -people waitin’ outside to get in, and there was always some awfully nice -dressed ladies settin’ up there with the judge ever’ day, and they had a -sort of glass in their hands, and they’d hold it up in front of their -eyes and look at me through the glass just like the judge looked at the -paper. - -“It took about two days for their side to call all the witnesses they -had, and finally their lawyer got up just as solemn and said that was -their case. - -“Then the judge give them a few minutes recess for ever’body to walk -around a little, and ever’one looked at me, just as they’d done all the -time. When they come to order the judge told us to go on with our side. -My lawyer turned to me and said he didn’t see what use it was to prove -anything, and we might just as well let the case go the way it was. I -said I ought to go on the stand and tell about that paper, and how it -was nothin’ but the one that come around the beef, and he said they -wouldn’t believe me if I said it. And anyhow it wouldn’t make any -difference. If I once got on the stand they’d get me all mixed up and -the first thing I knew I’d tell ‘em all about ever’thing, and so far as -witnesses went he couldn’t find anyone to do me any good. - -“I thought ‘twould look pretty bad not to give any evidence at all, and -he said he knew that but ‘twould look a mighty sight worse if we put any -in. So my lawyer got up and ever’one watched to see what he was goin’ to -do, and then he just said ‘May it please the court, we have concluded -not to put in any evidence.’ And ever’one commenced to whisper, and to -look at me, and to look ‘round, and the judge looked queer and kind of -satisfied, and said then if there was no evidence on our side they would -take a recess till mornin’ when they could argue the case. Of course, -after I went back to the cell and got to thinkin’ it over I could see -that it was all off more’n ever, but I didn’t see that the lawyer could -have done any different.” - - * * * * * - -Here Jim got up and went to the grating and called to the guard. - -“I’m gettin’ a little tired and fagged out and it ain’t worth while to -go to bed. Won’t you just give me some more whiskey?” - -The guard came up to the door. “Of course, you can have all the whiskey -you want,” he said. “Here’s a bottle I’ve just fetched up from the -office. You’d better drink that up and then I’ll get you some more.” - -Jim took a long drink at the bottle, and then passed it to his friend. -Hank was glad to have something to help him through the ordeal, which -had been hard for him to bear. - -Presently the guard came back to the grating and asked Jim what he -wanted for breakfast. - -“It ain’t breakfast time yet, is it?” Jim gasped. - -“No, but I’m going to the office after a while and I want to give the -order when I go. You’d better tell me now. You can have ‘most anything -you want. You can have ham and eggs, or bacon or steak, and tea or -coffee, and bread and butter and cakes; or all of ‘em—or anything else -you want.” - -“Well, I guess you’d better bring me ham and eggs. I don’t seem to care -for steak, and I don’t think I want any coffee. I’d rather have a -cocktail. You’d better bring me plenty more whiskey too when you come. -You know I hain’t slept any and I’m kind of nervous. I guess it’ll be -better if I don’t know much about it; don’t you?” - -“Sure thing,” the guard answered back. “We’ve got some Scotch whiskey -over there that’s all right. I’ll bring you some of that. All the boys -takes that. I don’t think you’ll be troubled much after a good drink of -that Scotch. I guess you’d better hurry up a little bit with what you -want to say. I don’t like to hurry you any, but I’m afraid they’ll be -along with the breakfast after while, and they don’t allow any visitors -after that.” - -The guard turned to leave, but before he had gone far, Jim called out, -“You’d better telephone over to the telegraph office, hadn’t you? -Somethin’ might have come maybe.” - -“All right, I’ll do that,” the guard answered back, “and Jim, I guess -you might as well put on them new clothes before breakfast; they’ll look -better’n the old ones—to eat in.” - - - - - X - - -Jim drank the remnant of whiskey in the bottle he was holding, draining -it to the last drop. As he sat in his chair he leaned against the side -of the cell. - -“My—how many bottles of this stuff I’ve drunk tonight. It’s a wonder I -ain’t dead already. I don’t believe I could keep up only I’ve got to -finish my story. But this cell begins to swim ‘round pretty lively; I -guess it ain’t goin’ to take much to finish me. Think a little of that -Scotch will just about do the job. I don’t care what anyone says, I’m -goin’ to get just as drunk as I can. I sha’n’t live to see what they say -in the newspapers and it won’t make any difference when I’m dead. I -don’t know as I ought to eat anything; it might kind of keep it from -actin’, but still I might as well. I guess the Scotch’ll do it all right -anyway. - -“Well, there ain’t very much more to tell, and I guess you’re glad. It’s -been a tough night on you, poor feller. I hope no one’ll ever have to do -it for you. But, say—you’ve done me lots of good! I don’t know how I’d -put in the night, if you hadn’t come! - -“Well—the last mornin’ they took me over to court, the room was jammed -more’n ever before, and a big crowd was waitin’ outside. I heard the -other lawyer say that the judge’s platform looked like a reception; -anyhow it was full of ladies with perfectly grand clothes, and most of -‘em would hold their glasses up to look at me. The other lawyer didn’t -say much in his first speech, only to tell how it was all done, and how -they had proved that everything happened in Cook County, and what a high -office the jury had. - -“Then my lawyer talked for me. I didn’t really see how he could have -done any better and the papers all said he done fine. Of course there -wa’n’t much to say. I done it, and what more was there to it? And yet I -s’pose a lawyer is educated so he can talk all right on either side. -Well, my lawyer went on to make out that no one had seen it done, that -the evidence was all circumstantial, and no one ever ought to be hung on -circumstantial evidence. He went on to show how many mistakes had been -made on circumstantial evidence, and he told about a lot of cases. He -told the jury about one that I think happened in Vermont where two -farmers was seen goin’ out in the field. They hadn’t been very good -friends for a long time. Someone heard loud voices and knew they was -fightin’. Finally one of ‘em never come back and afterwards some bones -or somethin’ was found, that the doctors said was a farmer’s bones. -Well, they tried that farmer and found him guilty, and hung him. And -then years afterwards the other man come back. And he’d just wandered -off in a crazy fit. And after a while another doctor found out that them -bones was only sheep bones, and they’d hung an innocent man. He told a -lot of stories of that kind, and some of the jury seemed to cry when he -told ‘em, but I guess they was cryin’ for the Vermont man and not for -me. - -“After my lawyer got through the other lawyer had one more chance, and -he was awful hard on me. He made out that I was the worst man that ever -lived. He claimed that I had made up my mind to kill her long ago, just -to get rid of her, and that I went ‘round to all the saloons that day -and drank just to get up my nerve. Then he claimed that I took a bottle -of whiskey home and drank it up and left the empty bottle on the table, -and I took that just to nerve me up. He made more out of the brown paper -than he did of anything else, and told how I burned all the rest of the -evidence but had forgot to burn this, and how I’d gone into the kitchen -and got the poker out of the stove and come back into the settin’-room -and killed her, and then took it back; and how cold-blooded I was to -take her, after I’d killed her, and go and dump her into that hole away -out on the prairie, and how I’d run away, and how that proved I’d killed -her, and then he compared me with all the murderers who ever lived since -Cain, ‘most, and showed how all of ‘em was better’n I was, and told the -jury that nobody in Chicago would be safe unless I was hung; and if they -done their duty and hung me there wouldn’t be any more killin’ in -Chicago after this. I can’t begin to tell you what all he said; but it -was awful! Once in a while when it was too bad, my lawyer would -interrupt, but the judge always decided against me and then the other -lawyer went on worse’n before. The papers next day told how fast I -changed color while he was talkin’, and what a great speech he made, and -they all said he ought to be a judge because he was so fearless. - -“It took the crowd some time to quiet down after he got through and then -the judge asked the jury to stand up, and they stood up, and he read a -lot of stuff to ‘em, tellin’ ‘em about the case. ‘Most all that he read -was ‘gainst me. Sometimes I thought he was readin’ one on my side, and -he told ‘em how sure they must be before they could convict, and then -he’d wind up by sayin’ they must be sure it was done in Cook County. Of -course there never was any doubt but what it all happened in Cook -County. When the judge got through ‘twas most night, and he told the -bailiff to take charge of the jury, so he took ‘em and the clothes and -the brown paper with the blood out in the jury room, and they -han’-cuffed me and took me back to my cell. - -“I don’t believe I ever put in any night that was quite so hard on me— -exceptin’ mebbe the night I done it—as that one when the jury was out. I -guess ever’one thought they wouldn’t stay long. I couldn’t see that any -of ‘em ever looked at me once as if they cared whether I lived or died. -I don’t believe that they really thought I was a man like them; anyhow -ever’-one thought they would sentence me to hang in just a few minutes. -I s’posed myself that they’d be in before supper. My lawyer come over to -the jail with me, because he knew how I felt. And anyhow he was ‘most as -nervous as I was. After a while they brought me in my supper, and the -lawyer went out to get his. Then the guard told me the jury had gone to -supper, and he guessed there was some hitch about it, though ever’one -thought the jury wouldn’t be out long. After a while the lawyer came -back, and he stayed and talked to me until nine or ten o’clock, and the -jury didn’t come in, so he went to see what was the matter, and come -back and said he couldn’t find out anything, only that they hadn’t -agreed. - -“Well, he stayed till twelve o’clock, and then the judge went home, and -we knew they wa’n’t goin’ to come in till mornin’. I couldn’t sleep that -night, but walked back and forth in the cell a good bit of the time. You -see it wa’n’t this cell. The one I had then was a little bigger. I’d lay -down once in a while, and sometimes I’d smoke a cigar that the guard -gave me. Anyhow I couldn’t really sleep, and was mighty glad when -daylight come. In the mornin’, kind of early, I heard that jury had -agreed and I knew that ‘twas bad for me. The best that could happen -would be a disagreement. I hadn’t allowed myself to have much hope any -of the time, but I knew that now it was all off. - -“Still I waited and didn’t quite give up till they took me back to the -courtroom. Then when ever’one had got their places the jury come in, -lookin’ awful solemn, and the judge looked sober and fierce-like, and he -said, ‘Gentlemen of the Jury, have you agreed on your verdict?’ And the -foreman got up and said, ‘We have.’ Then the judge told the foreman to -give the verdict to the clerk. He walked over to the row of chairs and -the man at the end of the bottom row reached out his hand and gave the -paper to him. The people in the room was still as death. Then the clerk -read, ‘We, the jury, find the defendant guilty, and sentence him to -death.’ I set with my head down, lookin’ at the paper; I expected it, -and made up my mind not to move. Ever’one in the courtroom sort of give -a sigh. I never looked up, and I don’t believe I moved. The papers next -day said I was brazen and had no feelin’, even when the jury sentenced -me to death. - -“The judge was the first one to speak. He turned to the jury and thanked -‘em for their patriotism and devotion, and the great courage they’d -shown by their verdict. He said they’d done their duty well and could -now go back to their homes contented and happy. And he says: ‘Mr. -Sheriff, remove the prisoner from the room.’ Of course, I hadn’t -expected nothin’, and still I wa’n’t quite sure—the same as now, when I -think mebbe the governor’ll change his mind. But when the verdict was -read and they said it was death, somehow I felt kind of dazed. I don’t -really remember their puttin’ the han’-cuffs on me, and takin’ me back -to jail. I don’t remember the crowd in the courtroom, or much of -anything until I was locked up again, and then my lawyer come and said -he would make a motion for a new trial, and not to give up hope. My -lawyer told me that the reason they was out so long was one man stuck -out for sendin’ me to the penitentiary for life instead of hangin’ me. -We found out that he used to be a switchman. I s’pose he knew what a -hard life I had and wanted to make some allowances. The State’s Attorney -said he’d been bribed, and the newspapers had lots to say about -investigatin’ the case, but there wa’n’t nothin’ done about it. But I -s’pose mebbe it had some effect on the next case. - -“There wa’n’t nothin’ more done for two or three days. I just stayed in -my cell and didn’t feel much like talkin’ with anyone. Then my lawyer -come over and said the motion for a new trial would be heard next day. -In the mornin’ they han’cuffed me and took me back as usual. There was a -lot of people in the courtroom, though not so many as before. My lawyer -had a lot of books, and he talked a long while about the case, and told -the judge he ought to give me a new trial on account of all the mistakes -that was made before. And after he got done the judge said he’d thought -of this case a great deal both by day and by night, and he’d tried to -find a way not to sentence me to death, but he couldn’t do it, and the -motion would be overruled. Then he said, ‘Jackson, stand up.’ Of course -I got up, because he told me to. Then he looked at me awful savage and -solemn and said, ‘Have you got anything to say why sentence should not -be passed on you?’ and I said ‘No!’ Then he talked for a long time about -how awful bad I was, and what a warnin’ I ought to be to ever’body else; -and then he sentenced me to be removed to the county-jail and on Friday, -the thirteenth day of this month—that’s today—to be hanged by the neck -till dead, and then he said, ‘May God have mercy on your soul!’ After -that he said, ‘Mr. Sheriff, remove the prisoner. Mr. Clerk, call the -next case.’ And they han’-cuffed me and brought me back. - -“I don’t know why the judge said, ‘May God have mercy on your soul!’ I -guess it was only a kind of form that they have to go through, and I -don’t think he meant it, or even thought anything about it. If he had, I -don’t see how he really could ask God to have mercy on me unless he -could have mercy himself. The judge didn’t have to hang me unless he -wanted to. - -“Well, the lawyer come in and told me he ought to appeal the case to the -Supreme Court, but it would cost one hundred dollars for a record, and -he didn’t know where to get the money. I told him I didn’t know either. -Of course I hadn’t any and told him he might just as well let it go; -that I didn’t s’pose it would do any good anyhow. But he said he’d see -if he could find the money somehow and the next day he come in and said -he was goin’ to give half out of his own pocket, and he’d seen another -feller that didn’t want his name mentioned and that thought a man -oughtn’t to be hung without a chance; he was goin’ to give the other -half. Of course I felt better then, but still I thought there wa’n’t -much chance, for ever’body was against me, but my lawyer told me there -was a lot of mistakes and errors in the trial and I ought to win. - -“Well, he worked on the record and finally got it finished, a great big -kind of book that told all about the case. It was only finished a week -ago, and I s’posed anyone could take his case to the Supreme Court if he -had the money; but my lawyer said no, he couldn’t, or rather he said -yes, anyone could take his case to the Supreme Court, but in a case like -mine, where I was to be hung I’d be dead before the Supreme Court ever -decided it, or even before it was tried. Then he said the only way would -be if some of the judges looked at the record and made an order that I -shouldn’t be hung until after they’d tried the case, but he told me it -didn’t make any difference how many mistakes the judge had made, or how -many errors there was, they wouldn’t make any order unless they believed -I hadn’t done it. He said that if it had been a dispute about a horse or -a cow, or a hundred dollars, I’d have a right to go to the Supreme -Court, and if the judges found any mistakes in the trial I’d have -another chance. But it wa’n’t so when I was tried for my life. - -“Well, when he’d explained this I felt sure ‘twas all off, and I told -him so, but he said he was goin’ to make the best fight he could and not -give up till the end. He said he had a lot at stake himself, though not -so much as I had. So he took the record and went to the judges of the -Supreme Court and they looked it over, and said mebbe the judge that -tried me did make some mistakes, and mebbe I didn’t have a fair trial, -but it looked as if I was guilty and they wouldn’t make any order. So my -case never got into the Supreme Court after all and the hundred dollars -was wasted. - -“Well, when my lawyer told me, of course I felt blue. I’d built some on -this, and it begun to look pretty bad. It seemed as if things was comin’ -along mighty fast, and it looked as if the bobbin was ‘most wound up. -When you know you’re going to die in a week the time don’t seem long. Of -course if a feller’s real sick, and gets run down and discouraged, and -hasn’t got much grip on things, he may not feel so very bad about dyin’, -for he’s ‘most dead anyway, but when a feller’s strong, and in good -health, and he knows he’s got to die in a week, it’s a different thing. - -“Then my lawyer said there was only one thing left, and that was to go -to the gov’nor. He said he knew the gov’nor pretty well and he was goin’ -to try. He thought mebbe he’d change the sentence to imprisonment for -life. When I first come to jail I said I’d rather be hung than to be -sent up for life, and I stuck to it even when the jury brought in their -verdict, but when it was only a week away I begun to feel different, and -I didn’t want to die, leastwise I didn’t want to get hung. So I told him -all the people I knew, though I didn’t think they’d help me, for the -world seemed to be against me, and the papers kept tellin’ what a good -thing it was to hang me, and how the State’s Attorney and the jury and -the judge had been awful brave to do it so quick. But I couldn’t see -where there was any bravery in it. I didn’t have no friends. It might -have been right, but I can’t see where the brave part come in. - -“But every day the lawyer said he thought the gov’nor would do -somethin’, and finally he got all the names he could to the petition, -and I guess it wa’n’t very many, only the people that sign all the -petitions because they don’t believe in hangin’; and day before -yesterday, he went down to Springfield to see the gov’nor. - -“Well, I waited all day yesterday. I didn’t go out of the cell for -exercise because I couldn’t do anything and I didn’t want ‘em to see how -nervous I was. But I tell you it’s ticklish business waitin’ all day -when you’re goin’ to be hung in the mornin’ unless somethin’ happens. I -kep’ askin’ the guard what time ‘twas, and when I heard anyone comin’ up -this way I looked to see if it wa’n’t a despatch, and I couldn’t set -down or lay down, or do anything ‘cept drink whiskey. I hain’t really -been sober and clear-headed since yesterday noon, in fact, I guess if I -had been, I wouldn’t kep’ you here all night like this. I didn’t hardly -eat a thing, either, all day, and I asked the guard about it a good many -times, and he felt kind of sorry for me but didn’t give me much -encouragement. You see they’ve had a guard right here in front of the -door all the time, day and night, for two weeks. That’s called the death -watch, and they set here to see that I don’t kill myself, though I can’t -see why that would make any great difference so long as I’ve got to die -anyhow. - -“Well, ‘long toward night the guard came and brought me that new suit of -clothes over on the bed, and I guess I’ve got to put ‘em on pretty -quick. Of course, the guard’s been as nice as he could be. He didn’t -tell me what they’s for, but I knew all the same. I know they don’t hang -nobody in their old clothes. I s’pose there’ll be a good many people -there, judges and doctors and ministers and lawyers, and the newspapers, -and the friends of the sheriff, and politicians, and all, and of course -it wouldn’t look right to have me hung up there before ‘em all in my old -clothes,—it would be about like wearin’ old duds to a party or to -church—so I’ve got to put on them new ones. They’re pretty good, and -they look as if they’re all wool, don’t you think? - -“Well, a little while after they brought me the clothes, I seen the -guard come up with a telegram in his hand. I could see in his face it -wa’n’t no use, so of course I wa’n’t quite so nervous when I read it. -But I opened it to make sure. The lawyer said that the gov’nor wouldn’t -do nothin’. Then, of course, ‘twas all off. Still he said he’d go back -about midnight. I don’t know whether he meant it, or said it to brace me -up a little and kind of let me down easier. - -“Of course, the gov’nor could wake up in the night and do it, if he -wanted to, and I s’pose such things has been done. I’ve read ‘bout ‘em -stoppin’ it after a man got up on the scaffold. You remember about the -gov’nor of Ohio, don’t you? He come here to Chicago to some convention, -and a man was to be hung in Columbus that day, and the gov’nor forgot it -till just about the time, and then he tried for almost an hour to get -the penitentiary on the long distance telephone, and he finally got ‘em -just as the man was goin’ up on the scaffold. Such things has happened, -but of course, I don’t s’pose they’ll happen to me. I never had much -luck in anything, and I guess I’ll be hung all right. - -“It seems queer, don’t it, how I’m talkin’ to you here, and the guard -out there, and ever’body good to me, and in just a little while they’re -goin’ to take me out there and hang me! I don’t believe I could do it, -even if I was a sheriff and got ten thousand dollars a year for it, but -I s’pose it has to be done. - -“Well, now I guess I’ve told you all about how ever’thing happened and -you und’stand how it was. I s’pose you think I’m bad, and I don’t want -to excuse myself too much, or make out I’m any saint. I know I never -was, but you see how a feller gets into them things when he ain’t much -different from ever’body else. I know I don’t like crime, and I don’t -believe the other does. I just got into a sort of a mill and here I am -right close up to that noose. - -“There ain’t anyone ‘specially that I’ve got to worry about, ‘cept the -boy. Of course it’s awful hard for a poor feller to start, anyhow, -unless he’s real smart, and I don’t know how ‘twill be with the boy. We -always thought he was awful cunnin’; but I s’pose most parents does. But -I don’t see how he’d ever be very smart, ‘cause I wa’n’t and neither was -his mother. As I was sayin’, ‘twould be awful hard for him anyhow, but -now when he’s growed up, and anyone tells him about how his mother was -murdered by his father, and how his father got hung for it, and they -show him the pictures in the paper and all that, I don’t see how he’ll -ever have any show. It seems as if the state had ought to do somethin’ -for a child when the state kills its father that way, but it don’t -unless they sends him to a poor house, or something like that. - -“Now, I haven’t told you a single lie—and you can see how it all was, -and that I wa’n’t so awful bad, and that I’m sorry, and would be willin’ -to die if it would bring her back. And if you can, I wish you’d just -kind of keep your eye on the boy. I guess it’ll be a good deal better to -change his name and not let him nor anyone else know anything about -either of us. A good many poor people grow up that way. I don’t really -know nothin’ ‘bout my folks. They might’ve been hung too, for all I -know. But you kind of watch the boy and keep track of him, and if he -comes up all right and seems to be a smart feller and looks at things -right, and he gets to wonderin’ about me, and you think ‘twill do any -good you can tell him just what you feel a mind to, but don’t tell him -‘less’n you think it will do him good. Of course, I can’t never pay you -in any way for what you’ve done for me, but mebbe you’ll think it’s -worth while for a feller that hain’t a friend in the world, and who’s -got to be hung so quick.” - -Hank struggled as hard as he could to keep back the tears. He was not -much used to crying, but in spite of all his efforts they rolled down -his face. - -“Well, Jim, old feller,” he said. “I didn’t know how it was—when I come -I felt as if you’d been awful bad, and of course I know it wa’n’t right, -but somehow I know it might have happened to me, or ‘most anybody, -almost, and that you ain’t so bad. I can’t tell you anything about how I -feel, but I’m glad I come. It’s done me good. I don’t think I’ll ever -feel the same about the fellers that go to jail and get hung. I don’t -know’s they could help it any more’n any of us can help the things we -do. Anyhow, I sha’n’t never let the boy out of my mind a single minit, -and I’ll do as much for him as if he was mine. I’ll look him up the -first thing I do. I don’t know about changin’ his name, I’ll see. -Anyhow, if he ever gets to hear a bit of it, I’ll see he knows how it -was.” - -Jim wrung Hank’s hand for a minute in silence, and then said: “And just -one word more, Hank; tell him not to be poor; don’t let him get married -till he’s got money, and can afford it, and don’t let him go in debt. -You know I don’t believe I ever would have done it if I hadn’t been so -poor.” - -Hank drew back his hand and stepped to the grated door and looked out -along the gloomy iron corridors and down toward the courtyard below. -Then he looked up at the tiers of cells filled with the hapless outcasts -of the world. On the skylight he could see the faint yellowish glow that -told him that the day was about to dawn. The guard got up from his stool -and passed him another flask of whiskey. - -“Here, you’d better get Jim to drink all he can,” he whispered, “for his -time is almost up.” - -Hank took a little sip himself, and then motioned Jim to drink. Jim took -the bottle, raised it to his mouth and gulped it down, scarcely stopping -to catch his breath. Then he threw the bottle on the bed and sat down on -his chair. With the story off his mind it was plain that the whiskey was -fast numbing all his nerves. He was not himself when he looked up again. - -“I guess mebbe I’d better change my clothes, while I have a chance,” he -said. “I don’t want anyone else to have to do it for me, and I want to -look all right when the thing comes off.” - -A new guard came up to the door, unlocked it and came in. He nodded to -Hank and told him he must go. - -“His breakfast is just comin’ up and it’s against the rules to have -anyone here at the time. The priest will come to see him after he gets -through eatin’.” - -Over in the corridor where Hank had seen the beams and lumber he could -hear the murmur of muffled voices, evidently talking about the work. -Along the corridor two waiters in white coats were bringing great trays -filled with steaming food. - -Slowly Hank turned to Jim and took his hand. - -“Well, old fellow,” he said, “I’ve got to go. I see you’re all right, -but take that Scotch whiskey when it comes; it won’t do you any hurt. -I’ll look after everything just as I said. Good-bye.” - -Jim seemed hardly to hear Hank’s farewell words. - -“Well, good-bye.” - -Hank went outside the door and the guard closed and locked it as he -turned away. - -Then Jim got up from his chair and stumbled to the door. - -“Hank! Hank! S’pose—you—stop at the—telegraph—office—the Western Union— -and the—Postal—all of ‘em—mebbe—might—be somethin’——” - -“All right,” Hank called back, “I will! I will!—I’ll go to both to make -sure if there’s anything there; and I’ll telephone you by the time -you’ve got through eatin’.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - BIG BLUE BOOKS - - - =30c= EACH POSTPAID - TO ANY ADDRESS - -These Big Blue Books are a companion series to the Little Blue Books. -They are much larger-–5½×8½ inches in size, bound in attractive stiff -card covers and contain from 30,000 to 75,000 words of text, ranging -from 64 to 128 pages each. The type is large, clear and easy to read. -The books are printed on good book paper and are thoroughly substantial, -accurate, and worth while in every way. Make your selection now—one book -or more, up to any quantity you wish, for 30c per book postpaid to any -address in the world. - - - Always Order by Number-–30c Each - - - LOVE AND SEX - - =B–46= The Sexual Life of Man, Woman and Child. Dr. Isaac - Goldberg. (Chapters include “Sex,” “From Morality to Taste,” “Lust - and Love,” etc.) - - =B–41= Love’s Coming of Age: A Series of Papers on the Relations - of the Sexes. Edward Carpenter. (Chapters include “Sex-Passion,” - “Man the Ungrown,” “Woman the Serf,” “Intermediate Sex,” “Note on - Preventive Checks to Population,” etc.) - - =B–32= The History of a Woman’s Heart (Une Vie). Guy de - Maupassant. (Complete novel by the famous French master of - fiction.) - - =B–3= The Love Sorrows of Young Werther. Goethe. (Famous love - story). - - - FICTION - - =B–6= Zadig, or Destiny; Micromegas and The Princess of Babylon. - Voltaire. (Famous satirical fiction.) - - =B–30= Candide: A Satire on the Notion That This Is the Best of - All Possible Worlds. Voltaire. - - =B–12= Grimm’s Famous Fairy Tales. - - =B–24= An Eye for an Eye. Clarence Darrow. (Complete Novel.) - - =B–33= A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy. Laurence - Sterne. (Intimate notes on travel experiences—one of the most - famous books in English literature.) - - =B–31= The Sign of the Four (Sherlock Holmes Story). Conan Doyle. - - =B–35= A Study in Scarlet (Sherlock Holmes Story). Conan Doyle. - - - FAMOUS PLAYS - - =B–2= The Maid of Orleans: A Romantic Tragedy. Friedrich von - Schiller. Adapted from the German by George Sylvester Viereck. - - =B–9= Faust (Part I). Goethe. Translated by Anna Swanwick. Edited, - with Introduction and Notes, by Margaret Munsterberg. - - =B–10= Faust (Part II). Goethe. Translated by Anna Swanwick, etc. - - =B–17= William Congreve’s Way of the World (A Comedy). With an - essay by Macaulay, extracts from Lamb, Swift and Hazlitt, etc. - Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by Lloyd E. Smith. - - =B–26= Nathan the Wise (Famous Liberal Play). Gotthold Ephraim - Lessing. Translated and Edited by Leo Markun. - - - AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND BIOGRAPHY - - =B–19= Persons and Personalities. Paragraphs and Essays. E. - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–8= The Fun I Get Out of Life. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–13= John Brown: The Facts of His Life and Martyrdom. E. - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–45= Confessions of a Young Man. George Moore. - - =B–28= The Truth About Aimee Semple Mcherson. A Symposium. Louis - Adamic, and Others. - -[Illustration: THIS IS THE TYPE USED IN THESE BOOKS] - - HALDEMAN-JULIUS PUBLICATIONS - GIRARD, KANSAS - - - PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION - - =B–4= The Wisdom of Life. Being the first of Arthur Schopenhauer’s - Aphorismen zur Lebensweisheit. Translated with a Preface by T. - Bailey Saunders. - - =B–5= Counsels and Maxims. Being the second part of Arthur - Schopenhauer’s Aphorismen zur Lebensweisheit. Translated by T. - Bailey Saunders. - - =B–1= On Liberty. John Stuart Mill. (Chapters include “Liberty of - Thought and Discussion,” “Individuality,” “Limits to Authority of - Society Over the Individual,” etc.) - - =B–14= Evolution and Christianity. William M. Goldsmith. - - =B–18= Resist Not Evil. Clarence Darrow. (Chapters include “Nature - of the State,” “Armies and Navies,” “Crime and Punishment,” “Cause - of Crime,” “Law and Conduct,” “Penal Codes and Their Victims,” - etc.) - - - FAMOUS TRIALS - - =B–29= Clarence Darrow’s Two Great Trials (Reports of the Scopes - Anti-Evolution Case and the Dr. Sweet Negro Trial). Marcet - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–20= Clarence Darrow’s Plea in Defense of Loeb and Leopold - (August 22, 23, 25, 1924). - - =B–47= Trial of Rev. J. Frank Norris. Marcet Haldeman-Julius. - - - CULTURE AND EDUCATION - - =B–15= Culture and Its Modern Aspects. A Series of Essays. E. - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–22= A Road-Map to Literature: Good Books to Read. Lawrence - Campbell Lockley and Percy Hazen Houston. - - =B–36= What is Wrong with Our Schools? A Symposium. Nelson Antrim - Crawford, Charles Angoff, etc. - - =B–34= Panorama: A Book of Critical, Sexual, and Esthetic Views. - Dr. Isaac Goldberg. - - =B–39= Snapshots of Modern Life. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–42= Sane and Sensible Views of Life. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–43= Clippings from an Editor’s Scrapbook. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–16= Iconoclastic Literary Reactions. E. Haldeman-Julius - - =B–11= The Compleat Angler: Famous Book on a Beloved Sport. Izaak - Walton (Patron Saint of Fishermen). - - =B–44= Algebra Self Taught: With Problems and Answers. Lawrence A. - Barrett. - - - RATIONALISM AND DEBUNKING - - =B–7= Studies In Rationalism. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–21= Confessions of a Debunker. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–23= The Bunk Box: A Collection of the Bits of Bunk That Infest - American Life. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–25= An Agnostic Looks at Life: Challenges of a Militant Pen. E. - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–37= Free Speech and Free Thought In America. E. - Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–38= Myths and Myth-Makers. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - =B–40= This Tyranny of Bunk. E. Haldeman-Julius. - - - JOSEPH McCABE’S SHAM-SMASHING BOOKS - - =B–27= The Truth About the Catholic Church (Chapters include “The - Papacy,” “Myth of Catholic Scholarship,” “Confessional,” “Catholic - Services,” “Behind the Scenes with the Catholic Clergy,” etc.) - - =B–48= Debunking the Lourdes “Miracles.” Also Includes “The Church - In Mexico,” “The Cowardice of American Scientists,” “England’s - Religious Census,” etc. - -=COMPLETE SET OF 48 VOLUMES FOR ONLY $12.78=: Get a good supply of -excellent reading—invest in a complete set of 48 Big Blue Books, all now -ready and in stock for immediate delivery. You can get all 48 volumes -for only $12.78 prepaid. Use the blank below to order this set, or for -your choice of any books at 30c each postpaid. - -[Illustration: Clip and use this handy order form!] - - Haldeman-Julius Publications, Girard, Kansas - - I enclose herewith $ ..... for ..... Big Blue Books at 30c each - postpaid. I am putting a circle around the numbers of the books I - want, below, corresponding to the numbers for the items in your - list. - - B–1 B–2 B–3 B–4 B–5 B–6 B–7 B–8 B–9 B–10 - B–11 B–12 B–13 B–14 B–15 B–16 B–17 B–18 B–19 B–20 - B–21 B–22 B–23 B–24 B–25 B–26 B–27 B–28 B–29 B–30 - B–31 B–32 B–33 B–34 B–35 B–36 B–37 B–38 B–39 B–40 - B–41 B–42 B–43 B–44 B–45 B–46 B–47 B–48 - - If you want a Complete Set of 48 Volumes, remit $12.78 and - check here ..... - - Name ..................................................... - - Address .................................................. - - City .................................... State .......... - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SANE SEX SERIES - - - Authentic │ 50 Volumes │ All for =$2.98= - Information │ A Leather Cover │ - - Are you ignorant of the facts of Life? Do you want authentic - information about sex and love and their proper place in human - affairs? Then these 50 volumes are what you have been waiting for. - These books are helping thousands of people to understand themselves - and others. Here are the facts, written by authorities—by - psychologists, sociologists, physicians, and scientists. These books - can be depended upon. There is nothing in these books to harm - anyone, nothing to create any wrong ideas about life. The whole - viewpoint is modern, sane, and healthful. These books foster a - wholesome outlook on life, and at the same time give the facts - everyone should know in a way which everyone can understand. - - Some of the eminent authorities who have prepared the text for these - books are Havelock Ellis, the famous English expert on sexual - psychology; James Oppenheim, a N.Y. practicing psycho-analyst; - William J. Fielding, well-known for his recent book, “Sex and the - Love-Life”; Dr. Morris Fishbein of the American Medical Association; - Dr. Joseph H. Greer; Dr. Wilfrid Lay; Dr. Charles Reed; Professor C. - L. Fenton, etc. Do not hesitate to rely upon these books; they are - thoroughly up to date, containing the latest facts available. - - - 50 Volumes-–750,000 Words - - Each of these books contains about 15,000 words of text, - making 750,000 words in all. The books are of a convenient - size (3½ × 5 inches) to fit the pocket, average 64 pages each, - have easily readable type, and are bound in substantial stiff - card covers. If these books were issued in ordinary library - form they would cost from $25 to $30 for the set. But in this - neat pocket-sized edition, due to mass production, they are - offered for only $2.98, full and final payment for the entire - 50 volumes and a leather cover. - - - A Real Leather Cover - - Included with each set of 50 volumes, at no extra cost, is a - genuine leather slip cover, made from high grade black levant - leather. This cover holds one book at a time, protecting it - while in use; a book may be slipped in or out in a few - seconds. This cover has the added advantage that it can be - slipped on a book to carry in the pocket, thus concealing the - cover and title if anyone prefers to avoid possible - embarrassment. Not only this, but you can enjoy the luxurious - “feel” of real leather while reading these books. And - remember—$2.98 is =positively all you pay= for 50 books and - this leather cover. - -[Illustration] - - - 50 BOOKS - - Sane Sex Facts for Everyone - - _Facts for Girls_ - _Facts for Boys_ - _Facts for Young Men_ - _Facts for Young Women_ - _For Married Men_ - _For Married Women_ - _Manhood Facts_ - _Womanhood Facts_ - _For Women Past 40_ - _For Expectant Mothers_ - _Woman’s Sex-Life_ - _Man’s Sex-Life_ - _The Child’s Sex-Life_ - _Homosexual Life_ - _Evolution of Sex_ - _Physiology of Sex_ - _Sex Common Sense_ - _Determination of Sex_ - _Sex Symbolism_ - _Sex in Psychoanalysis_ - _Sleep and Sex Dreams_ - _Chats with Wives_ - _Chats with Husbands_ - _Talks with the Married_ - _How to Love_ - _Art of Kissing_ - _How to Win a Mate_ - _Beginning Marriage Right_ - _Happiness in Marriage_ - _Sex Ethics_ - _Modern Sex Morality_ - _Love Letters_ - _Psychology of Affections_ - _Birth Control Immoral?_ - _Birth Control Today_ - _Women’s Love Rights_ - _Sex Today_ (.it _Ellis_) - _Ellis and Sex Sanity_ - _Eugenics Explained_ - _Genetics Made Plain_ - _Heredity Made Plain_ - _Venereal Diseases_ - _Syphilis Facts_ - _Sex and Crime_ - _America’s Sex Impulse_ - _Sex in Religion_ - _What Is Love?_ - _Story of Marriage_ - _Sex Rejuvenation_ - _Companionate Marriage_ - - - SEND NO MONEY - - For this Sane Sex Series of 50 volumes and a leather cover you - need not remit in advance unless you wish. You can pay the - postman only $2.98 on delivery. This set is shipped =in plain - wrapper=. Use the blank at the right, or just ask for “Sane - Sex Series.” No C. O. D. orders can be sent to Canada or - foreign countries; these must remit in advance by - international postal money order or draft on any U. S. bank. - - ┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── - │ SIGN AND MAIL THIS BLANK - │ - │Haldeman-Julius Publications, - │Girard, Kansas - │ - │Send me the 50–volume SANE SEX SERIES and 1 Leather Cover, in plain - │wrapper. Unless my check is enclosed herewith, I will pay the - │postman $2.98 on arrival. It is understood that $2.98 is all I pay - │and that I am under no further obligation whatever. - │ - │Name ................................................ - │ - │Address ............................................. - │ - │City ............................. State ............ - └────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE MODERN LIBRARY - - -[Illustration] - - - - - 88 CENTS PER COPY PREPAID - - - Your Choice - - - OSCAR WILDE - - =Salome=, Importance of Being Earnest, Lady Windermere’s Fan. - - =Ideal Husband= and A Woman of No Importance. - - =De Profundis= (Out of the Depths). - - =Dorian Gray= (Novel). - - =Poems= (Harlot’s House, Sphinx, Reading Gaol, etc.) - - =Fairy Tales= and Poems in Prose. - - =Pen, Pencil and Poison.= - - - ANATOLE FRANCE - - =Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard.= - - =Queen Pedauque.= - - =Red Lily.= - - =Thais.= - - - GABRIELE D’ANNUNZIO - - =Flame of Life.= - - =Child of Pleasure.= - - =Maidens of the Rocks.= - - =Triumph of Death.= - - - THOMAS HARDY - - =Jude the Obscure.= - - =Major of Casterbridge.= - - =Return of the Native.= - - - FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE - - =Thus Spake Zarathustra.= - - =Beyond Good and Evil.= - - =Genealogy of Morals.= - - =Ecce Homo and The Birth of Tragedy.= - - - HENRIK IBSEN - - =Doll’s House=, Ghosts, and An Enemy of the People. - - =Hedda Gabler=, Pillars of Society and The Master Builder. - - =Wild Duck=, Rosmersholm and The League of Youth. - - - GUY DE MAUPASSANT - - =Love and Other Stories= (For Sale, Clochette, His Wedding - Night, Moonlight, etc.) - - =Mademoiselle Fifi and Other Tales= (Piece of String, Tallow - Ball, Useless Beauty, The Horla, A Farm Girl, etc.). - - =Une Vie= (Story of a Woman’s Heart). - - - SHERWOOD ANDERSON - - =Poor White= (A Novel). - - =Winesburg, Ohio= (Short Stories). - - - SAMUEL BUTLER - - =Erewhon=, or Over the Range. - - =Way of All Flesh.= - - - JAMES BRANCH CABELL - - =Beyond Life.= - - =Cream of the Jest.= - - - NORMAN DOUGLAS - - =South Wind= (A Novel). - - =Old Calabria.= - - - LORD DUNSANY - - =Dreamer’s Tales.= - - =Book of Wonder.= - - - GUSTAVE FLAUBERT - - =Madame Bovary.= - - =Temptation of St. Anthony.= - - - W. S. GILBERT - - =Mikado=, Iolanthe, Pirates of Penzance, and The Gondoliers. - - =H. M. S. Pinafore=, Patience, Yeomen of the Guard and - Ruddigore. - - - GEORGE GISSING - - =New Grub Street.= - - =Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft.= - - - REMY DE GOURMONT - - =Night in the Luxembourg.= - - =Virgin Heart= (Translated by Aldous Huxley). - - - W. H. HUDSON - - =Green Mansions.= - - =Purple Land.= - - - D. H. LAWRENCE - - =Rainbow.= - - =Sons and Lovers.= - - - GEORGE MEREDITH - - =Diana of the Crossways.= - - =Ordeal of Richard Feverel.= - - - WALTER PATER - - =Renaissance.= - - =Marius the Epicurean.= - - - ARTHUR SCHNITZLER - - =Anatol=, Green Cockatoo, and Living Hours. - - =Bertha Garlan.= - - - AUGUST STRINDBERG - - =Married.= - - =Miss Julie=, The Creditor, The Stronger Woman, Motherly Love, - Paria and Simoon. - - - LEO TOLSTOY - - =Redemption=, Power of Darkness and Fruits of Culture. - - =Death of Ivan Ilyitch=, Polikushka, Two Hussars, Snowstorm, and - Three Deaths. - - - IVAN TURGENEV - - =Fathers and Sons.= - - =Smoke.= - - - MISCELLANEOUS - - =Modern American Poetry.= Ed. Conrad Aiken. - - =Seven That Were Hanged= and the Red Laugh. Leonid Andreyev. - - =Short Stories= by Honore de Balzac (Don Juan, Christ in - Flanders, Time of the Terror, Passion in the Desert, Accursed - House, Atheist’s Mass, etc.). - - =Prose and Poetry.= Baudelaire. - - =Art of Aubrey Beardsley= (64 Reproductions). - - =Art of Rodin= (64 Reproductions). - - =Jungle Peace.= William Beebe. - - =Zuleika Dobson.= Max Beerbohm. - - =In the Midst of Life= (Stories). Ambrose Bierce. - - =Poems of William Blake.= - - =Wuthering Heights.= Emily Bronte. - - =House With the Green Shutters.= George Douglas Brown. - - =Love’s Coming of Age.= Edward Carpenter. - - =Alice in Wonderland=, Through the Looking-Glass and Hunting of - the Snark. Lewis Carroll. - - =Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini.= - - =Rothschild’s Fiddle.= Anton Chekhov. - - =Man Who Was Thursday.= G. K. Chesterton. - - =Men, Women and Boats.= Stephen Crane. - - =Sapho.= Alphonse Daudet. Also contains =Manon Lescaut= (When a - Man Loves) by Antoine Prevost. - - =Moll Flanders.= Daniel Defoe. - - =Poor People.= Feodor Dostoyevsky. - - =Poems and Prose.= Ernest Dowson. - - =Free and Other Stories.= Theodore Dreiser. - - =Camille.= Alexandre Dumas. - - =New Spirit, The.= Havelock Ellis. - - =Life of the Caterpillar.= Jean Henri Fabre. - - =Jorn Uhl.= Gustav Frenssen. - - =Mlle. de Maupin.= Theophile Gautier. - - =Bed of Roses.= W. L. George. - - =Renee Mauperin.= E. and J. de Goncourt. - - =Creatures That Once Were Men= and Other Stories. Maxim Gorki. - - =Scarlet Letter.= Nathaniel Hawthorne. - - =Some Chinese Ghosts.= Lafcadio Hearn. - - =Erik Dorn.= Ben Hecht. - - =Daisy Miller= and An International Episode. Henry James. - - =Philosophy of William James.= - - =Dubliners.= James Joyce. - - =Soldiers Three.= Rudyard Kipling. - - =Men in War.= Andreas Latzko. - - =Upstream.= Ludwig Lewisohn. - - =Mme. Chrysantheme.= Pierre Loti. - - =Spirit of American Literature.= John Macy. - - =Miracle of St. Anthony=, Pelleas and Melisande, and Four Other - Plays. Maurice Maeterlinck. - - =Moby Dick=, or The Whale. Herman Melville. - - =Romance of Leonardo da Vinci.= Dmitri Merejkowski. - - =Plays by Moliere= (Highbrow Ladies, School for Wives, Tartuffe, - Misanthrope, etc.) - - =Confessions of a Young Man.= George Moore. - - =Tales of Mean Streets.= Arthur Morrison. - - =Moon of the Caribbees= and Other Plays (Bound East for Cardiff, - In the Zone, Ile, etc.). Eugene O’Neill. - - =Writings of Thomas Paine.= - - =Pepys’ Diary.= - - =Best Tales of Poe.= - - =Life of Jesus.= Ernest Renan. - - =Selected Papers of Bertrand Russell.= - - =Imperial Orgy.= Edgar Saltus. - - =Studies in Pessimism.= Arthur Schopenhauer. - - =Story of an African Farm.= Olive Schreiner. - - =Unsocial Socialist.= George Bernard Shaw. - - =Philosophy of Spinoza.= - - =Treasure Island.= Robert Louis Stevenson. - - =Ego and His Own.= Max Stirner. - - =Dame Care.= Hermann Sudermann. - - =Poems of Algernon Charles Swinburne.= - - =Complete Poems of Francis Thompson.= - - =Ancient Man.= Hendrik Willem van Loon. - - =Poems of Francois Villon.= - - =Candide.= Voltaire. - - =Ann Veronica.= H. G. Wells. - - =Poems of Walt Whitman.= - - =Selected Addresses and Papers of Woodrow Wilson.= - - =Irish Fairy and Folk Tales.= William Butler Yeats. - - =Nana.= Emile Zola. - - - COLLECTIONS—SYMPOSIUMS - - =A Modern Book of Criticisms=: Edited by Ludwig Lewisohn, with - contributions by G. B. Shaw, Anatole France, Remy de Gourmont, - Geo. Moore, etc. - - =The Woman Question=: Westermarck’s Subjection of Wives, Ellen - Key’s Right of Motherhood, Carpenter’s Woman in Freedom, - Maeterlinck’s On Women, Havelock Ellis’ Changing Status of - Women, etc. - - =Evolution in Modern Thought=: Complete survey of modern views - of the evolution of man. - - =Best Russian Stories=: Pushkin, Gogol, Turgeney, Dostoyevski, - Tolstoy, Garshin, Chekhov, Gorky, Andreyev, Artzybashev, etc. - - =Best Ghost Stories=: Kipling’s Phantom Rickshaw, Blackwood’s - Woman’s Ghost Story, Matthews’ Rival Ghosts, Bierce’s Damned - Thing, etc. - - =Best American Humorous Stories=: Hale’s My Double, Holmes’ - Visit to the Asylum, O. Henry’s Duplicity of Hargraves, etc. - - =Contemporary Science=, a series of scientific articles by - leading authorities, on physics, engineering, enzymes, - bacteriology, Einstein, etc. - - =An Outline of Psycho-Analysis=, with contributions by Sigmund - Freud, S. Ferenczi, Dr. Stekel, Dr. Jung, etc. - - * * * * * - - USE THIS CONVENIENT ORDER FORM - - Haldeman-Julius Publications, Girard, Kansas. - - Please send me one copy each of the Modern Library volumes I have - checked on this list, all new, bound in limp covers, at 88c each - prepaid. - - I enclose $............ in full payment. - - Name .................................................................. - - Address ............................................................... - - City .............................................. State ............. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - NOW—— - a genuine leather cover-–9×11½ inches—to slip over a copy of - “The Key to Culture” while being read or carried - - - 1. Fits “The Key to Culture” - - 2. Fits “Big Blue Books” - - 3. Fits “Haldeman-Julius Monthly” - -[Illustration: - - How the Cover - Looks in Use - - Size 9×11½ inches - GENUINE - SHEEPSKIN - LEATHER -] - - In response to many requests we have designed and manufactured a - cover or slip holder for “The Key to Culture,” “Haldeman-Julius - Monthly,” or a “Big Blue Book.” This cover, 9×11½ inches in size, - fits all three of these popular Haldeman-Julius Publications. These - covers are made from genuine sheepskin leather, stitched with - flap-pockets into which the covers of the book may be slipped while - carrying in the pocket or for protection while reading. By using one - of these genuine leather covers you not only protect your book, but - you can also have the luxurious “feel” of leather as you hold the - book. The cover is in every way a handsome piece of work and costs - only $1 prepaid. One cover is sufficient for all your books of this - size—it holds only one book at a time, but any book may be readily - slipped in or out in a few seconds. Order one of these covers now, - using the special order form below. - - =LEATHER COVERS FOR LITTLE BLUE BOOKS=: Leather covers are still - available for Little Blue Books, made from genuine sheepskin - leather, at 50c each prepaid. These are 5½×8 inches in size, - thoroughly durable, hold one Little Blue Book at a time. Order one - at the same time you order one of the new large covers. - - ┌─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ - │ USE THIS ORDER FORM FOR LEATHER COVERS │ - │ │ - │Haldeman-Julius Publications, Girard, Kansas. │ - │ │ - │I enclose $................. for =Leather Covers= as checked below: │ - │ │ - │.............................. =Large= Leather Cover (9×11½) at $1. │ - │ │ - │.............................. =Small= Leather Cover (5½×8) at 50c. │ - │ │ - │Name .............................................................. │ - │ │ - │Address ........................................................... │ - │ │ - │City .................................... State ................... │ - └─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - _The Author of “Sanity in Sex,” “Rational Sex Series,” “The - Caveman Within Us,” and other works relating to sex and - personality, sets forth in this single volume a well-rounded, - practical exposition of sexual problems._ - - - - - SEX - - _and the_ - - LOVE-LIFE - - - _By_ - - WILLIAM J. FIELDING - - There is not a man or woman but will find in this book a clarifying - light shed on many perplexing questions relating to sex and the - love-life. Even the specialized student will find the work replete - with illuminating facts and useful information, soundly interpreted. - It lays special emphasis on realizing the potentialities of the - love-life in marriage and its delicate treatment of these intimate - problems is a distinctive feature of the book. The contents of the - book as outlined in the following pages indicates the scope and - comprehensiveness of the work. - - - - - TABLE OF CONTENTS-–322 PAGES - - - =I. Sex and Life=—Meeting Life’s Vital Problems—Best - Preparation for Life—Countless Manifestations of Sex—Sexual - Phenomena—Evils Traced to Ignorance—Primitive Methods of - Reproduction—Asexual Reproduction—Sex Makes the Whole World - Akin—Sexual Reproduction—Secondary Sexual Characters—Sex More - Specialized in Higher Orders—The Two Paramount Urges—Hunger - and the Sex Impulse—Savages’ Attitude Toward Sex—Ancient - Sexual Practices—Sex Symbolism—Phallicism—Nature Worship—Venus - Cults—Sacred Prostitution—Lingam and Yoni Symbols—Sexual - Coldness—Congenital Frigidity—False Frigidity—Effecting a - Cure—Sidetracked Sex Energy—Results of Faulty Education— - Puritanical Principles—Celibacy—Ecclesiastical Law—Theological - Influence—-“Sins of the Flesh”—Early Ascetic Ideals—Error of - Sex Denial—Celibacy Not a Normal Life—Effects of Sexual - Suppression. - - =II. Development of the Love-Life=—Stages of Sexual - Development—Friendship and Love—Esthetic Significance of Sex— - Love the Refinement of Sexual Impulse—Altruism and - Self-Sacrifice—Sex Life of the Child—Sexual Instincts - Manifested from Birth—Stages of Progress—The Detumescence - Instinct—The Autoerotic Stage—Sucking, an Erotic Pleasure— - Erogenous (Love-producing) Zones—Narcissism—The Legend of - Narcissus—Self-love—Prepubescence—Love in Childhood— - Childhood’s Sex Interests Repressed—Sublimation—Erotic - Compensation—Cultural Accomplishments—Adolescence—The Boy and - Girl—Physical and Psychic Manifestations—What Impels to Love— - The Parent Image—Copying Psychological Patterns—Ego and Sex - Ideals—The Love-Object—Fixations—Peculiarities of the - Love-Life—Psychic Impotence—Frigid Wives—Fetichism—Sexual - Significance of Fetiches—Exhibitionism—Normal and Abnormal - Traits—Sexual Curiosity—Sadism and Masochism—Homosexuality— - Psychological Problems—Environmental Factors—Homosexual - Feelings Repressed. - - =III. Man’s Sexual Nature=—Comparison of the Male and Female— - Represent Different Types of Eroticism—Anatomy and Physiology - of Male Sex Organs—The Penis—The Glands—The Prepuce— - Circumcision—The Testes—The Vas Deferens—The Epididymis—The - Seminal Vesicles—Cowper’s Glands—Prostate Gland—Urethra—The - Seminal Fluid—Semen—Spermatozoa—Internal Chemistry—Ductless - Glands—The Hormones—Interstitial Glands—Chemical Aspects of - Sex—The Endocrine System—Thyroid—Parathyroid—Pituitary— - Adrenals—Thymus—Pineal—Pancreas—Insulin—Activity of Male Sex - Organs—Nocturnal (night) Emissions—A Normal Episode—Diurnal - (day) Emissions—Man’s “Change of Life”—A Preparation for - Senescence—Period of Sexual Decline—The Don Juan—A - Constructive Period Ahead. - - =IV. Woman’s Sexual Nature=—Sexual Instinct in Woman—Woman’s - Sexual Organization More Complex Than Man’s—Feminine Eroticism - More Highly Ramified—Woman’s Emotional Nature—Strength of - Sexual Impulse—Woman Sexually Conservative—Variations in - Sexual Impulse—Sexual Desire Outlasts the Reproductive Life— - Anatomy and Physiology of Female Organs—The Ovaries—Graafian - Follicles—Process of Ovulation—Fallopian Tubes—Salpingitis—The - Uterus (Womb)—The Vagina—The Hymen—The Vulva—Bartholin Glands— - The Pelvis—The Mammary Glands—The Internal Secretions—Normal - Effects at Puberty—Effects of Deficiency of Secretions— - Menstruation—Symptoms of Initial Appearance—Hygiene of - Menstruation—Disorders Due to Constipation—Re-establishing - Premature Cessation of Flow—The Menopause. - - =V. Preparation for Marriage=—Looking Forward to Marriage— - Importance of Preparation—Confusion of Ideals—Innocence and - Modesty—Prudery—Marriage: Past and Future—Dual Moral Code— - Status of Monogamy—Polygamy and Promiscuity—Fictitious - Chivalry—True Love Must Be Free—Woman’s Intellectual - Liberation—Its Beneficial Effects—The Realities of Marriage— - Courtship As a Preparation—Not an Educational Substitute— - Period of Intimate Association—Tactless Lovers in Courtship— - The Vehement Wooer and Defensive Partner—Courtship a Continual - Preparation—The Pairing Hunger—Length of Engagements—Long - Engagements Often Injurious—Proper Age to Marry—Economic - Hindrance at Most Favorable Period—Consanguineous Marriage, or - Marriage of Blood Relatives—Between First and Second Cousins— - Not Harmful in Itself—Unless Family History Is Bad—Hereditary - Traits Accentuated in Offspring of Blood Relatives—Either Good - or Bad Latent Traits May Be Marked in Children. - - =VI. Sex Hygiene in Marriage=—The Conjugal Relations— - Expressing Love Deepens the Love Feeling—Love Cannot Be - Separated from Sexuality—Courtship and Married Lovers—Wooing - As an Essential Preparation—The Consummation of Love—Woman - Must Be Wooed Before Every Act of Coitus—Characteristics of - Feminine Nature—Woman’s Role In the Sex Relations—The Sex Act - Means More to the Female—Woman’s Subconscious Maternal - Solicitude—Benefits of Sexual Expression—Key to Happiness in - Marriage—Greater Longevity of Married Women—The Sexual - Initiation of the Bride—Coitus the Fulfilment of a Natural - Law—One of the Most Beautiful and Sacred Phenomena of Life— - Gives Marriage Its Wonderful Potentialities—Overcoming Sexual - Coldness—Keeping Romance in Marriage—Jealousy the Destroyer— - Frequency of Sex Relations—Intercourse During Menstruation— - Intercourse During Pregnancy. - - =VII. Woman’s Love-rights=—Right of Female to Enjoyment of - Sexual Function—Recognized Among Savages—Erotic Impact of - “Marriage by Capture”—The Erogenous (Love-producing) Zones and - Their Significance in Woman’s Love-Life—Sensual Feeling of the - Skin—Woman the Affectionate Sex—Effects of Unsatisfactory - Marital Life—Woman Craves Love and Affection—“Love Has to Go - to School”—The Bridal Night—Its Difficulties and Their - Solution—Hygiene of the Honeymoon—Reciprocity in the Sex - Relations—Mutual Rights of the Husband and Wife. - - =VIII. Birth Control in Relation to the Love-Life=—What Birth - Control Really Means—Ignorant Confusion with Abortion—Legal - Proscription of Contraception—Ban on Contraceptive Information - Fosters Abortion—Religious Prejudice Against Contraception— - Individual Clergymen Advocate Birth Control—Morality of Birth - Control—Immorality of Excessive Child-bearing. Fallacy of - Intercourse for Reproduction Only—Sexual Union Has a Value - Aside from Procreation—Not Purely a Physical or Animal - Function—Continuous Child-bearing a Primitive Practice— - Trusting to “Instinct” and “Nature”—Fear of Pregnancy, and - Marital —Coercion for a Morbid Ideal by Opponents of Birth - Control. - - =IX. The Hygiene of Pregnancy=—The Phenomenon of Conception— - The Beginning of Pregnancy—How to Calculate Date of - Confinement—Ely’s Table and Other Methods—Most Favorable Time - of Conception—Changes in the Pregnant Woman—Signs and Symptoms - of Pregnancy—Probable and Direct Signs—Embryology— - Month-by-Month Development of the Fetus—Labor Pains and - Parturition—Maternal Impressions—Their Superstitions—Prenatal - Care—Rest and Exercise—Diet—Care of Teeth—Care of the Nipples— - How Sex Is Determined—Superstitions About Influencing Sex of - the Child—Sex Development in the Embryo—The Chromosome - Hypothesis of Sex Determination—Sex Determined by the Male - Fertilizing Element—Sex Determination and Twins. - - =X. The Menopause—Beginning a New Epoch of Life=—The End of - the Reproductive Period—Not the End of the Sexual Life—Age at - Which Menopause Occurs—Various Manifestations of Approach— - Premature Menopause, and Its Treatment—Retarded Menopause— - Characteristic Symptoms of Climacteric—Sudden Cessation of - Menstruation—Other Common Symptoms—Menstrual Irregularity— - Obesity—Cardiac or Heart Troubles—Digestive Disturbances— - Disorders of the Skin—Pruritus—Cancer and Other Growths— - Nervous and Mental Disorders—Climacteric Psychosis—Remarks on - “The Dangerous Age”—Casting Out Fear—A Constructive Period - Ahead—Woman’s Greater Vitality and Longevity—Hygiene of the - Menopause—Bathing—Exercise—Diet—Other. Precautions for Health— - Sexual Life After the Climacteric—Increased Sexual Desire in - Post-Menopause Period. - - =XI. Sexual Disorders of Women=—Sexual Basis of Nervous - Disorders—Neurasthenia—Anxiety Neurosis—Hysteria—Results of - Unsatisfactory Marital Relations—Factors in Marriage That - Influence Sexual Life—Sterility, or Barrenness—One-Child - Sterility—Frigidity, or Sexual Coldness—Disorders Due to - Abstinence—=Coitus Interruptus=—Common Disturbances of Women— - Leucorrhea—Menstrual Disorders—Dysmenorrhea—Menorrhagia— - Amenorrhea—Abortion: Spontaneous, Induced (Illegal or - Criminal), and Therapeutic—Displacements of the Womb— - Nymphomania—Masturbation—Exaggerated Statement of Its Evils— - Why It Is a Bad Habit in Growing Boys and Girls. - - =XII.—Sexual Disorders of Men=—Nervous Disturbances—Fatigue - from Mental Effort Alone a Rare Phenomenon—Sexual Factors in - Neuroses—Nervous Breakdown from Suppressing Sexual Life—Sexual - Determinants of Anxiety Neurosis—Sexual Neurasthenia; - Hereditary and Acquired—Neurasthenia Not So Much Actual - Nervous Debility As Lack of Control—=Coitus Interruptus= a - Factor in Male Neurasthenia—Sexual Impotence and Sterility— - Impotence Resulting from Continence-Absolute and Irremediable - Sterility—Relative and Transient Sterility—Prostatitis— - Azoospermia—Aspermatism—Satyriasis—Masturbation—Confusion with - “Onanism”—Prevalence Among Animals—Opinions of Some Famous - Medical Scientists. - - =XIII. Venereal Diseases=—Universality of Venereal Diseases— - Gonorrhea—The Most Prevalent of Adult Infectious Diseases— - Discovery of the Germ, and Its Description—Symptoms of the - Disease—Infection of Innocent Wives—Effects of Gonorrhea on - Women—“Honeymoon Appendicitis”—Gonorrhea Vulvo-vaginitis— - Racial Effects of Gonorrhea—Gonorrhea As a Factor in Male - Sterility—Ophthalmia Neonatorum—Syphilis—Description of Its - Germ—Symptoms of the Different Stages—Becomes a Constitutional - Disease—Ravages of the Tertiary Stage—Locomotor Ataxia and - Paresis Among Late Effects—Hereditary Syphilis—May Be Cured If - Properly Treated in Time—Chancroid or “Soft Sore”—Gangrenus - Balanitis—Prostitution—Prostitutes Largely subnormal— - Clandestine Prostitution. - - =XIV. The Parent and the Child=—Education Begins at Birth— - Child Normally Looks First to Parents for Information—Sex - Education Should Be Part of Child’s General Education—Never - Unduly Emphasized—Answering the Question: “Where do Babies - Come From?”—The Meaning of Education in Its Broad Sense— - Tyranny of Excessive Affection—Personality of Child Should Be - Developed, Not Stifled—Psychic Re-education—Curiosity of the - Small Child—Special Problems of the Boy—Puberty—Secondary - Sexual Characteristics—Physical Changes Mental Changes—Sexual - Development of Puberty—Night Emissions—Masturbation— - Preparation for Manhood—Special Problems of the Girl—The Need - for Self-Knowledge—Adolescence—Physical Changes—Mental - Changes—Other Problems of the Sexual Life. - - - USE THIS CONVENIENT ORDER FORM - - The author, whose works on subjects relating to sex and personality - have been circulated to the extent of well over a million copies, - has endeavored in this book to meet the demand for a thoroughly - well-rounded practical exposition of the sexual problems, concisely - set forth in a single volume. The result, as indicated in the table - of contents quoted above, is a complete, frank discussion of every - relevant question concerning sex in general, with special attention - devoted to those intimate problems of the love-life in marriage that - too long have been considered taboo. - - ┌─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ - │Haldeman-Julius Publications, │ - │Girard, Kansas. │ - │ │ - │Send me at once, in plain wrapper, one copy of William J. Fielding’s │ - │new book of authentic information, entitled │ - │ │ - │ SEX AND THE LOVE-LIFE │ - │ │ - │ At $2.65 Prepaid. Remittance is Enclosed Herewith │ - │ │ - │ BY THE SAME AUTHOR │ - │ │ - │William J. Fielding’s other books are available as below. Check off │ - │those you want and add the proper amount to your remittance. │ - │ │ - │......... THE CAVEMAN WITHIN US, price $3.15 prepaid. │ - │ │ - │......... SANITY IN SEX, price $1.95 prepaid. │ - │ │ - │......... HEALTH AND SELF-MASTERY, Through Conscious Auto-Suggestion,│ - │ price $1.95 prepaid. │ - │ │ - │Name .............................................................. │ - │ │ - │Address ........................................................... │ - │ │ - │City .............................. State ......................... │ - └─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors. - 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 4. Enclosed bold font in =equals=. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Eye for an Eye, by Clarence Darrow - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EYE FOR AN EYE *** - -***** This file should be named 54074-0.txt or 54074-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/0/7/54074/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |