The star of the north. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1849-1866, 1861-01-02
THE BABE In THE PRISON.
BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

A few years ago, visited the grand mod
ern prison conducted on the solitary system
Slowly we passed down the long, melan-
choly corridors-now and then entering
one of the cells, to exchange word of hu-
man cheer with its loneIy inmate-utterly
lonely, but for The mute companionship of
his labor--that primal penalty of sin, trans
formed into consolation and a. blessing
Occasionally we passed al cell, but did
not enter, being invited by the warden 10
! look in upon the prisoner through minute
! loop-hole in the heavy iron door. Thus
gazed upon some of the most hardened and
hopeless criminals in the Penitentiary as
they bent over lapstone or loom, or stood
at the carpenters bench, all unconscious
that human eye was dwelling on them
watching the dull gloomy face, the melan-
choiy movements, with the sorrowful awe,
sombre curiosity, a shuddefing but
yearning pity. Tie women looked thin
ner, paler, more haggard and desponding
than the men-though some seemed 10
make desperate effort at defiance. 1t is
hard TO defy solitude, silence and that dis.
NAL annlh:lauon of identity, where ones
very name is merged in the number of
prison cell.
Evidently these things told more upon
their spirits than OH those OF male prisoners,
and the more quiet and monotonous nature
of their occupations seemed to weary and
wear upon them. Their eyes met ours
with a dull and stony expression, or retreat.
ing with shy, evasive glances. Yet the
most sad and suen among them followed
as 10 the cell door with a look of longing
and mournful envy, more touching than the
widest appeal for freedom and human
compaaionship.
On the floor of one of these cells, we
found little child-a baby girl, somewhat
less than year old. The sight surprised
me, as the appea rance of La poUera piccioia,
the poor little flower, springing up from be
tween the flag stones o. his prison yard,
surprised the sad captive of Finestrelia.-
A pale and sickly blossom this seemed,
though not without certain piaintive beau
ty in her wan and wisiful little face. She
was very fair-too fair-there seemed no
sunshine in her veins, no stir of life in the
pale golden hair which hung dejectedly
about her waxen forehead. The eyes were
blue-but of the dull, uncertain hue of vio-
lets that have grown in deep shade. fan
} cied they might have caught all they lacked
of light and color from the run of The CLEAN
of running waters, or the rich depths OF
summer skies. They had, too, a strange
blank look-from striking ever against pris-
on walls, | thought. They certainly had
not eager distinct reaches of expression,
flashing out from the eyes of happier chill
dren. Was the infants eight dwarfed to
suit the dimensions of its mothers cell
How strange and sad it seemed! The
earth had almost made its mighty revolu-
tions around the sun-passing through all
, the wonderful changes of the season,
through the countless phenomena o. nature
since this badly was born in prison, and she
knew nothing yet of Springs fair bloom, oi
Summers glory, of Autumn's ripeness, o!
Winters splendor-nothing of winds, Oh
waves, or woods, or birds-skies, or rain OF
snow. fear her little feet had never been
set in the grass, her little arms never been
thrown round pet or play fellow. fear
she has never looked into the heart of a
: rose, or the face of a little child. Surely
the sight of either would have kindled a
faint momentary flush in her palld cheeks
1t was cloudy, showery day, and double
, gloom pervaded the prison. Suddenly, The
sun shone out, and sent a glad beam
through the high, narrow, grated window
i to fall on The prison floor beside the child
< For the first time, saw the little creature
smile, as she bent forward snd clutchec
! eagerly at the dancing ray. 1t was a pretty
, yet piieous sight-that instructive, hungry
5 grasp at her small ration of Gods free sun
: shine-her crumb fallen from the Masters
} table-while the whole outside world were
feasting half unconscious, and all too IN
thankful, on The rich, life giving bounty.
In another instant, piitiless cloud swep
over the sun, and the radIent stranger was
, gone. Then the bereaved baby cried, in q
silent old way, which showed one that tears
I were more native 10 her than smiles. The
mother took her up, and strove 10 comfort
her with few feeble love words and Ian.
, guild caresses. Then | regarded the moth
er. She was little more than child her.
self, "going on eighteen," she said and
r looked weak, inofensive creature, with
! no muscle or fibre-desponding listless, a
frail and sorry Thing for the law to wreal
: itself against. The babe ceased weeping
!. presently, but began again, as We drew
near, hiding her face against her child
mothers breast.
!. sDon't mind her ladies' said the mother
"she's puny, scary thing. She ain't used