The prison mirror. [volume] (Stillwater, Minn.) 1887-1894, 1888-03-07
Sunday Musings.

Editor Mirror:
Permit me through the columns of THE
MIRROR to eulogize friend, one who, of
all the prison retainers feel honored, aye,
distinguished. to account and number as
such. 1t is to old gaunt Tom that refer,
who has so completely succeeded in twining
around nay heart the gentle tendrils of af-
fection, that l am beguiled thus from my
more OnerOuS duties-viz: eating and sleep
ing-into this public eulogy of my private
friend.
1t is just fortnight since Tom wiggled
door, and with dgnified and solemn mien
mounted the little box of sawdust,
which does duty as cuspidor, and reposi-
| tory of secret correspondence; and with his
| long tail elevated and gently tanning his
back, he regarded myself and my poorly
furnished cell with an expression OF pro-
| found disgust, and turning his attention to
| the box, there instituted vigorous search
| by scratching the sawduSt into pile. So
regularly and often has this queer scene
been enacted by Tom and accompanied al
ways with the same strict regard for detail,
that have frequently been tempted to ques-
ton the sincerity of TOMS attachment to
myself individually, and rather lean to the
belief that the nightly regularity of his
visits was sufficient ground upon which to
base suspicion of a sinister motive.
Perhaps Tom is an avaricOus old miser,
or perhaps the black rascal is a ''profes-
! siOnal," one of that crafty class of whom
we have heard SO much lately, but have
never had the good fortune to have our Curl
Osity satisfied with view of. But to what
ever craft, tribe or element Tom belongs. l
have ever found him worthy of my love;
and although the stygian blackness of
the Plutonian shades of shoel are not a
marker to TOMS complexion, still he al
ways carries with him into my cell ray of
light that would knock the Edison incandes-
cent silly. Upon completing his ''profes-
siOnal' recOnnOitre of my quarters. and as
certaining the full extent of my poverty.
| fraternal feeling seems to pervade his an
atomy, and he fearlessly leaps upon my
couch and lazily purs fort his sympathy and
ask him, if in his spare moments and the
depths of his taciturnity, he ever pOndeYs
on the question OF what is to be his portion
when his ''ninth" life has been flched from
him; or if he had ever calculated the dam
ger OF taking cold, as he wanders, shad-
owy nothing. on the muddy shores OF the
mystic future. But to all such foolish inquir-
les, Tom responds by letting down the
lower addition of his uncanny mug and Civ
ing voice to querilous meow, which is
feline Romany for rats, me bOyw
But. Tom never carries but one ''taiP'
and that, humliating as it is, to one of his
spirit is excusable. If l should venture to
suggest such doubt of his loyalty as the
carrying of more than one tail" during
life, he assumes an aggrieved air of injury
and rapidly calculates several rasping
m-e-o-ws which being translated plainly
says, "Podner, if am black, you cangam-
BILE your accumulated candle stubs that Pm
white!"
But of late TOMS visits have been sadly
infrequent. Can it be possible that he is
pursuing the rats that have proverbially
left sinking ship? If So 1 sincerely pray
that ne may overhaul them. But [ hope
my broken fortunes have not been too much
for the patience of Tom and that he will
more frequently grace my quarters with his
doubly welcome presence, for none can dis
pell like Tom the gloom and wasteful BROOD
ing. And who was ever more welcome,
when the dark clouds of despair hover me-
nacngly in the air and obscure the very sun
shine, than DID, ugly, Niger Tom?
| F. NJ