Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1892-04-24
Trusted With Knives and Hammers.

contented. and the regular hours he is com
PEELED to keep have given him q healthie
appearance than he wore when free man
He is busy, with his fellow cooks, preparing
the dinner, which consists of boiled beef
potatoes, ETC., stewed all together, and is al
savory as anyone could wish for. 1t il
nearly IL o'clock and the prisoners art
going to dinner. The cooks have beer
| labelling out the stew into messpans, eact
of which holds as much as some families ge
among them, and these messp ms are piled
up ready to be handed to the hungry mer
who have put in nearly five hours of work.
A gong sounds, and the men in one shop
are formed into line and started for the
cookhouse. They walk in "lock-step,' u
| each with his right hand on the shoulder Of
the man in front, so that his toe almost
touches the others heel, until they reach
| an opening in the wall of the cookhouse.
| Here the messpans are passed out Each
| man takes his pan, if he wants it, without q
word, and follows in single file, but Of
course not in "lock-step" now, to the door
that leads into the cell block. A officer
| walks at the head of the squad, conducts
his men to their cells, locks them in, and
| leaves them there for an hour. AS one
squad gets to the cookhouse another comes
from another quarter, and another from an
other, and so on, until the yard is alive
with marching men, all bound for tina. one
interesting building whence the steam of
the beef stew comes and titillates the nos
trils pleasingly. They do not all 60 to the
one opening. There is one on each side of
the building, 80 that two sets of men can be
served at once.
Tho School In tho Penitentiary.
The education of those men who have not
had advantages of that kind is attended to.
School is conducted two hours day in a
regular schoolroom in the hospital building,
under the direction of Mr.. R. H. Graham.
Mr.. Graham is q very well-educated man
a son Of e1-Speaker Graham-and he takes
the greatest interest in his pupils He has
116 enrolled at present, and they are of all
ages. He has one man of 81 years in the
primary class, one of 63 in the first reader,
one of 80 in the third reader, and one OF 81
in the fourth. The men all seem to enjoy
school, and the authorities allow them the
time from their work to attend, being only
too glad to see that they are desirous of
making up for past neglect.
The hospital contains only about dozen
cases, none of them serious. We 60 into the
hospital, shake hands with the resident sur
geon and walk through the wards. In the
first one we meet an intelligent-looking
colored man, smoking pipe as he gazes
listlessly at the sky through the large win
dow. Enjoying your smoker" observes
Mr.. Stewart The man smiles, but in rather
a care-worn way, as we cannot hel p noticing.
eyes, sir. Thank you?" he says quietly.
As We pass out, Mr.. Stewart whispers:
"He's in for life" We are trying to
imagine the feelings of a man in living
tomb. light and airy as it is as we pass into
another ward, where three convalescents
are eating dinner that comprises toast and
other delicacies at a table, and who speak
cheerfully to Mr.. Stewart in answer to lis
greeting, and thence into another, where
four men are playing dominoes, while a fifth
is lying on his bed-the only one in the hos
pital who is using his bed, by the way.
Bathrooms and other accommodations are in
the hospital, and but for being prisoners,
the inmates would have little to complain
OF The building is very airy and light.
Going Out and Coming In.
Back into the main hall, and from thence
into another hall above it, where the book
keepers sit in glass compartment busy as
any in an ordinary business house, and ap-
parently as satisfied, although at least one
Of them is prisoner: A new prisoner has
just been brought in, and one who has
served his time is going out. The one who
is departing is United States prisoner.
He has just put on the clothes he wore
when brought in, and he is going into the
Office to sign a book and receive his small
valuables that have been kept in safe for
him. He shakes hands with the officials
and walks out.
In the meantime the new mana young
fellow scarcely 21-is being turned over BY
the deputy sheriff who has brought him in.
He is weighed, searched and then given in
charge Of an officer, who takes him to the
clothes room, in the same building as the
cook house. Here he is stripped, examined
by the doctor, and a careful record made of
all physical peculiarities He is measured
thumb, finger, nose, ear, ETC., are carefully
taken, and birthmarks of any kind recorded,
together with any deformity he may have.
Then he is made to take bath.
Donning the Stripes in Prison.
In the clothes room are three sizes of
shirts, pants and jackets of striped mate
rial. With the assistance Of an officer he
picks out clothes to fit him, including can
ton flannel underwear, shoes, socks and cap
and puts them on. Then, as he looks down
at himself, he realizes that he is indeed
convict, and a tear springs to his eye, as, in
obedience to q sign from the officer, he
marches across the yard into the north
wing, where he is placed in one of the
smaller cells until it is decided where he
shall be put to work.
He will be allowed to write a letter to
his friends once a month, and every three
months he may receive visitors, but with
these exceptions he will have no communi-
cation with the outside world until his SEN
tence has expired, unless he be pardoned.
The chaplain, Mr. Milligan, has entire
charge of the moral welfare of the prison.
ers, which covers their correspondence and
visitors. He may allow them to write
oftener than once a month if he considers
the occasion urgent, and he can allow them
to receive visitors between the regular
periods if he sees fit.
Among the life prisoners there are some
with whom the officers have great deal of
sympathy. Henry Briceland is life pris-
oner. He has been confined for 20 years.
He is an excellent prisoner, good carpen-
ter and an intelligent man. There is not an
attache of the penitentiary, so far as could
be learned, who would not rejoice to know
that Henry Briceland had been pardoned.
He has neither friends nor money, however,
and hence has little hope OF leaving his
prison until he finds the freedom Of the
grave.
His is one of hundreds Of sad stories hid
den under the subdued demeanor and sober
garments of the vast colony pursuing its
monotonous way in that gray stone enclo-
sure, while the robin sings and the waters
of La Belle Riviere dance in the sun under
its grated windowA G. D. j.