The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-07-07
THE aFouRrHn At THE ..PEN.u
Stone Walls do Not a Prison Make Nor
Iron Bars a Cage.

panied by q member of the EAGLE edl-
torial staff.
The process of a celebration of free
dom in a states prison is a subject that
will not quickly cloy the appetite of the
curious. The idea of shutting man up
ir a cell as dark and as impenetrable as
night and then dwelling on the beauties
of sunshine and the elevation of unre-
straint is perplexing. The expedition, II
would seem, of expatiating to creature
on the rapturouS state of freedom
ne'and liberty's boundlesS area of I'M
fettered action, and at the same time
poking the muzzle of Winchester rifle
at the head of the object Of your oratory
and suffering him to inspect the unfail-
ing efficiency of the bore, and daring
him to move, the expedition OF such
course is doubtful.
The speaker who is known as the one
selected for such duty, is at once set
down by the public as alchemist in
casuistry, who can say everything ten
derby and touched with the warm charms
of fellow feeling.
But the economy of the glorious
Fourth at the penitentiary goes long
way towards solving the question OF
what to say. Here it is a gala day.
Here among the sombre walls; the white
baked unyielding court marked with
the worn burrows of the line OF
march of the rolling and shut
fling lockstep; here with every
vantage point to the eye of the prisoner,
station for the armed guard; here
among the bars of iron and locks that
click after every change, Is scene OF
great relaxation. 1t is the one day Of
the whole year, when the regular order
of things is broken into; when the
stomach is RECALLED with innumerable
dainties; the ears treated to songs more
tickling than gospel hymns and the eyes
Toasted on the abandon and unstlnted
glory of interior decoration and the
happy colors of the stars and stripes.
There is no work this day. ABOUT 1870
in the morning the convicts are marched
into the chapel. This is decorated with
draperies of fancifully scissored tissue
paper of various colors, bits of colored
placards on the wall, designating the
several industries of the institution such
as blacksmithing, shoe making, carriage
manufacturing, and the place of
worship otherwise embellished under
the superintendent of a convict, Nc
Mutt, of Sedgwick county.
The chaplain opens with prayer
There is song, "My Country, IT'S of
Thee" by the assembled mass. Almost
all the prisoners sing, as it offers an
opportunity for them to hear their own
voice-a great boon in these walls. There
is then bass solo by convict, who
sings in a great low voice a selection
called king Bibbler's Army" which is
a warning to tipplers, and in which is
interspersed with the descriptive in
TERMS of Tramp, Tramp, Tramp" and
awful admonitions of clark, Hark,
Hark," where the convict gets partic-
ularly low on the scale and the resonance
of his voice has an especially ominous
sound. The convicts applaud this, prob
ably more for the applause's sake than
for the recognition of any merit in the
rendition or any sentiment contained
therein. Then the colored quartette
sing a song, and as the mellow flood of
strong melody and the rich rhapsodical
harmony of their voices blend into vol
ume of mellifluous sweetness, a broad
smile spreads spontaneously upon the
faces of the whole multitude, now be-
comes an approbatory murmur and atthe
end of each period of the rudely worded
song turns into the widest clapping and
the most enthusiastic applause. The
darkies are called out again and again.
The convicts can never get enough.
Here are a thousand of them-most
Of them with dark history. There
sits the man who on a dark night with
stealthy step, bated breath, and evil eye,
drove the glittering steel into the heart
of an innocent man, ne who gloated at
the sight of the blood of his victim and
laughed his conscience to scorn. How
he applauds the song. How much good |
it does him. Can the tones Of the !
thrum of the laundering chorus find any
responsive chord in his black soul?
Besides him sits the skillful penman, !
who in an evil hour, forged name and |
defied society. He applauds too, proba-
bly, with touch Of sadness in his own |
heart at his fate. Here they are-mur-
derer beside thief, rapist beside bigamist
over and over again, all showing the |
better sides of their natures under the |
softening influence of a negro melody |
that rudely runs:
Wont have girl named Tad
Every time l kiss her
Makes her mad
Goes and tells her dad"
This happens once o year-and only |
only once. And everybody was pleased |
The old man with the high brow and |
the fine critical eve, who sat stolid, with |
the corners of his mouth drawn down, /
through all the rest of the program, with |
palpable discontinue at his own stripes |
and position, breaks into the hurricane !
of applause with the others, at these
beautiful negro songs.
Then the orator of tic day is intro |
duced and IS greeted with applause. For
seventeen years Justice Brewer has had |
this honor, but this year new face
greeted the life convicts-that Of Senator /
Q. II, Bentley.
Mr.. Bentley introduced his speech by
the happy thought that he had his hear
ers at disadvantage-none of them |
could get away. He asks them to forget
L.,