The advocate., 1894-01-17

man dragged toward that building; !
compared its colossal proportions with
his puny form. | saw the trembling,
terrified wretch, hand-cuffed and hope
less, enter the portals to leave life, as
well as hope, behind, and to have the
soul crushed out of him. If there must
be jails and scaffOldS-if our state of So
ciety is so diabolical that these things
are necessary-in Heavens name why
should the way to them be made even
more inhuman than the things them
selves? Yes, as a rule, policemen are
heartleSS wretches. No good man can
remain long policeman and remain a
good man. 1t should not be so, but
they look upon the poor as public enc
mics because they are poor, and spy
upon them as such. There is not q
police court in this country, flippantly
as the newspapers speak of its dOings,
but every week enactS once at least the
tragedy Of slain human SOUL"
''If | were president or governor, I'd
change all that, or know why" ex-
claimed Kate.
''NO, you would be expected to talk
tariff and the like, and let the under
world of poverty remain unheeded. 1t
is not considered good practical poll
tics, you know, to meddle with the hell
kept by policemen for the recreation of
the poor. But to my story again.
must lie down, however, for I have
been sitting up too long"
Leaning upon his young nurse as
gently as his weakness and his crutch
would permit, the old man lay down,
and resumed:
81 didn't know what to do about
writing home. What news to tell the
wife, who, after three years separa-
tion, was eagerly watching for my re-
turn, and thinking every fOOtstep out
side the door was mine. And / was so
hOmeSick, too. had been picturing in
imagination our happy greeting and re-
union after our long separation, and
had planned our future life together. /
wanted to see my boy, too, and thought
yearned so to see them and to be home
once more. And here l was thousand
miles away in the penitentiary-fOr life.
For life! Think of thatP'
The old man was silent for quite
while. Kate was overcome, and lean
ing her young head on the pillow, wept.
Chow the weary days dragged on,
one by one, through the weary years,
with no hope of freedom but in the
grave at lastl"
But" said Kate, "surely your wife
heard of your fate in some way and
came to be near you at last? At least,
you got letters from hOme?"
"NO, my dear; not so. After my
conviction and sentence, my doom be-
ing sealed, as supposed, l gave allmy
money, my watch and my trinkets, ex
cept picture of her, to a cOmrade
from the same county, who, having
found it impossible to do me any good
by remaining longer, was going home;
and with them | sent a letter to my
wife, telling her the awful truth, but
bidding her hope. Though, of course,
knew there was no hope, | wished to
spare her all the agony l could. My
cOmrade bade me a sad farewell and
departed. My heart seemed as it would
break. How l envied him his happy
greeting at home, while /"
The old man was silent for time
again.
"Not a line ever came to me from
home"
Never, during all those awful
years?"
"Never. And as the years went by
believed that the news Of my fate had
killed my wife outright, and that her
father had simply abandoned me as
common murderer. He was one of that
class of very piouS people who expect
to be forgiven in heaven because they
themselves have never been wicked
enough to forgive any poor sinner on
earth After fine StrictpSt sect of the |