The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-07-26

ana tneG cases would De bne least nOpetul
The front faces on Ludlow street and the
rear upon Essex, so that it is in
the closest proximity to Essex Market
Police Court. 1t is large,
uncouth red-brick structure, two stories in
height. The windows are immense. Any
one of them, if it was changed from per-
pendicular to a horizontal positioo would
answer for a respectable-sized skylight. In
spite of these enormous windows which
might reasonably be supposed to confer an
air of some cheerfulness upon the architec-
ture, the entire building is as gloomy as can
we'll be imagined. 1t looks like cheap mau-
soleum with windows let in. Visitors are
treated in a very chary and gngerly manner.
BY dint of careful observation and iudicious
inquiry, however, you come into possession of
a few interesting facts. For instance, you
learn that there are two orders of rooms to
let and two orders of meals. The rooms in
tended for the wealthier class of residents are
scarcely, if any, larger than those occupied
by the poorer residents. A bed,
chair, looldng-glass, a wash-basn, and some
times table, comprise the entire furniture
The occupant, however, has the room to
himself, and, in contrast with the constant
publicity in which the poorer prisoners are
forced to live, this is a blessed privilege in
deed Meals are served three times a day.
and are quite respectable, considering that
they are the diet of captivity. Coffee and
mutton-chops or beefsteak for breakfast: roast
meats and fair supply of vegetables for din
ner, with sometimes pie or pudding and cold
meat and tea for supper, are to be had. For
this munifcent board and lodging the mode
rate sum Of $50 per week is charged, or more
than 81 per day! AS for the wretched
captives who can afford to pay only S1j
or $50 per week, the accommodations
provided for them can readily be gauged
from this standard There is no prisoner
but what can pay something towards his
support, and his bed and board are in exact
proportion to that amount. No distinction is
made between the aristocrat and the plebeian
so long as the greenbacks are forthcoming.
If you are an inmate of Ludlow Street Jail
and have money, though not enough perhaps
to pay your debts, you may be able to find
captivity tolerable. There is no limit to the
comforts and luxuries you may provide for
yourself, if you are willing to be atrociously
swindled by the agents you employ to procure
them. You may paper and furnish, and up
holster your room; you may surround yourself
with books, statuettes, and music; you may
have champagne and sherry for dinner
every day; you may get gloriously drunk
whenever you please; nay, you may even
occasionally take stroll up Broad
way or go to the theatre, with deputy sheriff
at your heels, if you only have the money
You cannot indeed, divest yourself of the
shadow of captivity thrown around you at
every step you take, but you will find the
gloom of that shadow inconceivably light
ened But if you ever are 50 unfortunate as
to become resident there, the chances of
your getting out again are exceedingly
slim. When Hope got out of Pandora's box,
it visited most places in the world, but omit
ted Ludlow Street Jail The world is too
busy too much occupied in gratifying its own
selfshness, to bestow much thought upon the
unhappy debtors it has locked up there And
so they remain incarcerated year after year,
suffering a useless punishment, the very ma
ture of which will prevent their ever making
an effort toward amendment.