The Portland daily press., 1886-12-10
THoMAsToR LIFE.
a Day N Prison With the Men In
.'arti- coIored Suits.
Work Fl m Dawn to Dark, with
Bre d and Soup for Dinner.
How Sc,le Celebrities are Enjoying
Themselves These Days.
Who Sent the Ten Dollars to the In
dustriaI Schooi7
Correspondence OF the PREss.l
STATE PRISON,

as they stood in the cook room in the prison,
while young Blaney, the Kittery murderer.
sliced up the huge loaves for them with a
knife about two feet long. But let no one
because he may have tasted the bread, or
heard Of the care and neatness shown in the
management Of the institution, imagine for
moment that it is a desirable board
ing place Summer, with its green
leaves and bright fields. may give to the vii
lage Of Thomaston beauty which justiies
the praises Of its inhabitants. But none Of
this is for the convict. When he goes from
his cell to the workshop in the morning, he
sees only barren yard. enclosed by high,
white wall Of stone. On ths fairest Of days
the yard would not be attractive; under a
stormy, wintry sky, like that Of Tuesday.
the desolation was oppressive. A huge hole,
where formerly quarrying was carried on,
and which the State authorities are puzzled
to fill up, fakes much Of the clear space OF
the yard. The shops, long, narrow build
ings, take up the rest. The con-
victwho essays to look over the forbidding
walls sees nothing more welcome than the
| little guard houses perched to overlook the
| yard, and restless sentinels with Winchester
rifles loaded for sixteen shots. These SEN
tries practice target shooting, and keep them
selves in condition to pick off a convict
across the yard should he venture ON a sud-
den dash.
PLACE OF SMALL TENEMENTs.
The prison building proper, where the con-
vict dimes, and sleeps, and spends his time
when not at work in the shops in the yard,
is on the line of the northern wall A main
portion, built of brick. contains the Wardsn's
office the guard room, the cook room, etc.
| Two long wings Of whitened stones. stretch
ing to the east and west, with windows heay-
| lly barred, are left for the exclusive use of
the prisoners. Tie guard room, in the main
oulidlng, oyerlooks both Of these wings, and
| the winchester rifles could sweep the entire
length Of the corridors between the outer
walls and the long, high vault that holds the
cells. The walls and cells, inside and out,
are kept scrupalously white and clean.
III you descend into the corridors of one of
| these wings you can see just what sort Of an
abode a cell in the State prison is. The huge
vault Is pierced at regular distances by mar
row apertures, so narrow that p0rtly man
might md 1t tight squeeze to get through
one OF them. There are three rows of these
entrances, one above the other; that is, the
cells are IN three tiers; stairways, with very
narrow iron balconies, give access to the up
per tiers. Open the iron barred door. 20
through the narrow doorway, and you are in
convlcts CELL II you have seen one you
have seen all. 1t Is seven or eight feet long,
four or five feet wide: The floor is stone, the
walls Oh stone, the ceiling Of stone; all snow
whlte. A shelf Of iron wire, now folded
against the wall, holds the bed clothes, and
leaves very narrow free space in the CELL
AT night this wire shelf Is let down from the
wan, ana tne convicts sitting room becomes
MS bed room, the bed being very nearly as
large as the room. A little wooden stand in
tne corner holds lamp and book or few
papers On the walls, if the occupant is in
dilned TO adorn his room, may be a few cheap
n. I.r. ~.
trated papers. If there Is q small rug or
strlp OF carpet laid on the stone floor It is
because friend has sent ii in, or the Off
clals have granted the request of some feeble
prisoner s VINO asks Tor something between his
leet and the stone floor. A chair completes
the furnishing. All the cells are kept clean,
! because that Is the rule of the prison. but
some are much more orderly than others.
ror, even with the chair and stand, and little
piece OF carpet and few pictures on the whit
ened stone wall, the nature of the man can
manifest Itself for order or disorder.
NO EIGHT-HoUR DAYS
The prisoners day begins with the light.
He eats his breakfast of bread and coffee,
except Sunday, when he has baked pork
and beans and then, having put his cell in
order. takes his slop bucket, comes out Of the
cell and falls into line with his fellow con-
victs. They march out, empty the buckets
"AA hoh5 eANiu oA AONo VI HOUkS In the /
prison yard; then march into the shons
Part go to the blacksmith shop, Others 10 the
shop where the wood work for carriages and
slelghS Is done, and still others TO the shons
where IN, the upholstering and trimming is
done. The harness shop employs a large
number of convicts who are better fitted for
that sort OF work. Generally the men are
given that work for which they
have the most aptitude. Four low browed
sullen looking fellows turn the wheel that
drives the small circular saw in the carriage
shop; II Is the same job that SantOre and his
fellow Italian had before they were hung
But most OF the men, as they are seen at
work, appear like free workingmen.
Whether the presence of visitors may have
had anything to do with it, L cannot saw, but
they certainly worked, each as il he had e
personal interest in his task. At the long
rows OF torges in the blacksmith shop the
convict blacksmiths seemed to blow their
fires and use their hammers with all the
spirit Of the happier smiths who are work.
ing OF their own free will outside the prison
As the dinner hour q1.3O approaches the
cook. room, on the lower floor Of the main
building, is busy place. Tuesday several
convlcts were tending huge kettles of SOUP
and Blaney, who owns Mrs. Barrows for
mother-ln-law, was jumping around behind
counter as active as rising young bust
ness man. On Tuesday he was pulling
HUGE LoAvEs OF BREAD
from cupboard and cutting them with his
long knife. Blaney is one Of the best look
ing men in the whole prison, and might be
taken for an innocent young fellow, not
wholly clear Of his mothers apron strings.
They were going to hang him. but Governor
Robie thought Imprisonment for life enough
punishment. He looks very well satisfied.
and probably Is. On table near Blaney's
counter are dozens of small, shallow basins
These basins will have use when the great
hal ri no for f.no - koTf
O'Clock.
Dinner comes at 11.30 standard time. be-
cause that is nearest the middle of the prison
working day, which is from daylight to dark
The eight-hour system has not been adopted
at Thomaston yet. Almost the minute the
bell strikes the doors of the different shops
are thrown open, and long lines of men
emerge; The peculiar convict suits give
these files an odd appearance. The right
leg Of the breeches, the right half Of the coat,
vest and CAP is black. while the left sides Of
the same garments are yellow or orange
color. The coat Is cut to resemble dress
coat minus its tails On the whole, the con-
yict who takes pains to keep his clothes in
good shape is
NOT A sIEANLY-ARRAYED FELLOW.
The effect of hundred of these suits in
line is very striking. The lines move along
to the rows of slop buckets left in the MORN
ing, each one takes his own; and the line
continues on IOWdIuS tne entrance 10 tne
wings containing the cells. This entrance is
near the cook room, and each convict as he
| passes along gets piece Of bread and one
| Of the shallow basins filed with soup; that
| is, il the day is Tuesday, Thursday or Sat-
| urday. Monday he gets dry or corned fish
and potatoes; Wednesday, corned boiled or
| fresh beef and vegetables; and Friday,
| fresh or corned fish or clans The convict
| gets no butter, unless friends send it, but
| has half pint of molasses week and half
| pint of milk day. The rations received,
the lines move into the cell-rooms, and
| breaking up each convict goes quickly to
| his own cell, enters, pulls the door to after
| him, and the lever is pulled that slips the
| bolts of the whole line of cells at once. In
an hour the convict must have his dinner
eaten and be ready to come out Of his cell for
| work again.
/ In the long line that fled out Of the shop
where carriages and sleighs are trimmed,
/ marked
THE SEVENTH MAN
from the head of the file His dress was
exactly like that of the thirty or forty others
| in the same line, only little newer and
neater and trife better fitting. If there
was anything in his bearing to declare that
| he had been bred to a better part in life than