The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1881-08-18

WIN ms love and his beauty all awake.
Into my happy armsl
Celia Thaxter.
in FOR LIFE.
How One Can be Buried Alive
From the Detroit Free Press.
This CELL" said the warden, as we
reached PIP, belongs to one Of the Oldest
liners IN the prison. I believe he has been
mere nigh on to thirty years, and he bids
singular man."
His crime was murder, Of course?"
Yes, and strange murder. He was
then young man Of %, rather quiet. If
not morose, and no one had ever heard him
use an oath or seen him display even the
smallest vice. Had he stolen an az. his
friends would have been amazed What
could their feelings have been, then, when
ne was charged with murder? One night,
with no earthly excuse for offense, he
got out OF bed, walked three miles to the
house Of friend and called him out and
stabbed him to the heart. He then retraced
his steps to his home and retureed to
bed and slept soundly until morning, the
bloody knife lying on the chair by his bed
size. lie made no effort to conceal his
CRIME, and when arrested had no excuse
Tor 1t. From the day the constable put
hands On linn up to this hour he has not
spoken except when forced to. [ have
several times had to threaten him with the
strap to make him answer nv questions,
Does he mate with anyone?"
NO; he comes and goes as if alone in
this great prison. 1 cannot imagine
what 1nducement could be held out to make
MN address question toa prisoner. He
snuns US all as 1t we were poison. During
al the years he has been here he has
never asked favor Of any sort"
is he ever sick?"
Once in a great while, Lut he never
complains. He would die in his tracks be-
fore he would ask to see the doctor. He
has tainted away at his work bench and
cried out in the delirium of fever, but he
has never complained.
What DO the prisoners say about him?'
They fear him. have been told TWEEN
ty different times that he would some day
rebel, and that he would have to be shot
before he could DO disarmed. I can't saw
that he is poltting, but we keep sharp
eye on him. He has the eye Of a perfect
devil. and he will look at you in way to
make your flesh crawl"
Can he be insane?"
mo; dozen different doctors are agreed
that he is as sound as any man. He is
simply born devil. He was never known
to laugh or cry. His old mother used to
come here in days gone by-before she died
and she said she had never seen smile
on his lips or a tear on his cheeks. moi
even during his babyhood. He is a hater.
He hates himself. He hates everything
living or dead. There is caularon of ug-
liness boiling within him, and some day it
will h7ll - - =
we shall most lkel.. We forced TO kill him
in lf-defense."
Has he any reiatives?'
Not that we know Of. His father was
dead before the murder. He had moth
er and brother, but when he had been here
about five years the poor old woman went
to her grave. 1t a man has any heart in
him mothers tears and love can touch it.
She used to come here and sob and prav.
and this fend sat as unmoved as rock,
even refusing to answer one Of her aues-
tons. She was old and wrinkled and heart
broken the last time she came. She told
him that it was her last visit, and that she
lad only few weeks to live, ard the muir
derer turned his back on her. The broth
er came three or four times. receiving the
same treatment, and the last visit he made
came near being his last day on earth.
n.
sencc of the door-man this fend prasned
the brothers throat and was fast CHOKING
him to death when help arrived. The
brother died several years ago in Illinois.
and now the man is alone on earth. No
one asks after him-nobody thinks Of him.
He is buried alive"
He never writes to any one?"
Never. he has not had a pen in his
hand since entering this prison. Most Of
the prisoners manage to keep posted on
outside affairs, but this man neither knows
nor cares to know. I don't believe he knew
Of the war long as it lasted He won't talk:
he can't or won't read; he won't permit a
prisoner to talk to him, as consequence
he hears ne more of the worlds doinpa
than as if he were in the grave. It must
be horrible feeling for man to live this
way, and yet he seems to enjoy it. One
day is the same as another to him. One
night is no blacker than another. Weeks
pass and bring no change. Years come and
go and his routine is the same. The past
is full of blood-the future is a long un-
broken midnight. have wondered that
he did not commit suicide"
Has he ever tried to escaped"
Never, and that is why we fear him.
Three different times since he came here
he has had good opportunities to take
French leave but he refused to 60. It
wasn't because he feared recapture and
punishment, for any of them will take the
one chance in a hundred on that. It was
because he hated the world worse than his
prison. Give him another chance to-day
and he would also refuse it. AS 1 told you
be is strange case. He is Mailman, half
1evil. Each year he is growing more like
iend, and every time look into his eye
think it has more Satanic CLEAN. don't
know what the end will be, but half ex-
pect it will be full Of rebellion, desperation
and blood. Some day his hate will over
power all other feeling, and he will pick up
a bar Of iron, an ak or sledge, and he viii
( fight Us to the death"
No More 'sExhorters
From the New York Methodist
The Exhoiter" Of the Methodist Episco-
pal church is said to be rapidly becoming