The prison mirror. [volume] (Stillwater, Minn.) 1887-1894, 1888-05-23

Well. our life was an easy. lazy one for
many weeks, with little variation except an
occasional run of good or bad luck. as the
case might be. The sun rose higher and
hotter day by day in the eastern sky, and
poured down its scorching, sweltering rays
upon the sQualid and filthy inhabitants of
the FRENCH and Spanish quarters below
Canal street. At last one morning, | think
the Goth of July. a few days after the visit
of Mexican circus from MatamOras to the
city, we met as usual at our old stamping
ground, but with anxious faces; for during
the night the Yellow Angle of Death had
spread its wings over the French quarter
and quarantine was strictly enforced. The
daily papers it appeared had for several
days tried to suppress the fact that yellow
fever was in our midst. but it had by this
time assumed proportions that could not be
kept dark. The three nOrtherners and my
self, full of thick. sluggish blood, were
naturally the most anxious. the two
LOuisianians comparatively cool. and Harry
Miner. if he was afraid. certainly never
showed any symptom of fear. 1t is a terrible
sensation for a healthy man to suddenly find
himself brought face to face with raging
peStiIence, with no chance of escape, anC
with but a very small hope of pulling
through alive.
Many have said they were not afraid, but
nine out of ten lied when they said So
Medical statistics during that epidemic
show that one third of those who died per
iShed from fright Day by day and week
by week passed by, and still our little banG
remained unbrOken. Nearly all business by
this time was suspended. with the eXcep
ton of gambling houses. saloons, drug
stores, and undertakers' establishments.
Men dropped in the pangs of the first attack
of the fever at the very faro tables, theil
chips in their hands waiting for the turn OF
a card: dealers were carried from their
chairs to their bed to die, and undertakers
charged, to their everlasting shame be il
said, fabulous prices for cOffinS and burials.
and reaped a harvest that many of them
never lived to enjoy. Day by day some
hibitue of the billiard room disappeared. Nc
one asked where he was. We all knew
Whose turn would come next? Some in
their fright endeavored to pass the picket
lines which surrounded the city and were
shot. Every one drank, and many to excess.
Our chief excitement was the daily evening
paper. little folio sheet which published
the death list as near as they could compute
it. Now and then name familiar to all of us
would appear, and then we would look al
each other as much as to say, Who next?
l had written some little time before tC
my far-OH home for a remittance, as. my
funds were getting somewhat low. and did
not want to go to the Charity Hospital if
should fall victim to Bronze john"
One night when the epidemic was at its
height. and the daily death rate had run
over 500, we were all down in the bar
room. where Harry Miner was holding high
carnival. having had an extra good run OF
luck against faro bank that afternoon. Wine
flowed freely, and in our drunken hilarity
we had forgotten our mournful surround
ings. Filling our glasses and his own Harry
said in a loud voice, IA toast I'll give you,
a toast" We raised our glasses. Here. u
said he. ''is to short life and merry one,
and to HI with Bronze John,'" and drain
ing his glass shattered it in atoms against the
wall. We all invOluntarily shrank at the
words of the toast, but drank it down in
silence. and then dispersed for the night.
Next morning arose and repaired as usual
to the Crescent Hall. One by one the
others dropped in, but no Miner. At last.
at 9 o'clock. l and one of the southerners
started for his room to hunt him. and enter
ing his bed room found him lying there
alone in a raving delirium. He as was so
often the case, had been stricken down with
the fever in the dead Of night with no one
near to help him. For three days and a
half we stayed by him and nursed him. but
even his splendid constitution could not
save him, and at the end of the third day
the deadly black vOmit set in and after
holding him forcibly in bed all night he was
yellow, rotting corpse in the morning.
Was it fate? / know not. Or was it a