The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1896-09-10
Local and General.
CAPTAIN JACK CRAWFORD.
The "Poet Scout Conducts the Sunday
Services.

The "Poet Scout" Conducts the Sunday
Services.
Captain Jack Crawford, ceebrat-
ed in Western song and story as
soldier, scout and poet, addressed the
inmates in the prison chapel Sunday
and for two hours entertained his au
dience with rich flow of song, story
and the recital of border and patriotic
poems that bubbled over with pathos,
humor and patriotism. His rich elo-
quence, couched in characteristic west
ern diction, delivered with elegance of
that portrayed deep insight into HUI
man nature, added to his striking ap-
pearance and the celebrity Of his name,
combined to produce an effect as pleas
ing as it was instructive and impress
i've.
After the prison choir had sung the
anthem "Over Yonder," Warden VOL
fer, in few we'll chosen words, intro
duced the distinguished speaker, who,
after thanking the warden for the
warmth of his welcome, spoke sub
stantially as follows:
Boys, am at home among you. l
feel, like thousands of others feel, that
the difference between you and me, is
that 1 have not been caught. Your feel
ings, sympathies and what touches the
responsive chords of your nature, can
understand and appreciate; for it has
been in the same hard school of expert
ence my lot has been cast, my charac-
ter moulded and my views of life
formed. l know that in this and other
prisons of the country can be found
the noblest hearted boys that God ever
created. They put you in here, garb
you in disgrace, brand you with dis
honor, and, with the painted pageantry
of hypocrisy, proclaim themselves the
thOrOughbreds of this world All this
they do, but spare those who poisoned
you with the rum that fired your pas
sions and drove you to the insane act
that has wrecked your life. With you
] have fraternal feeling-a feeling of
brotherhood Of love that draws me in
sympathy with your troubles, hopes
and actuating impulses.
| have spent the last few days COM
minging with my old comrades of the
Grand Army of the Republic-the gal
liant old heroes who answered country's
call when our Southern brethren lis.
tened to mistaken leaders and lighted
the torch of civil war. You all know
of that struggle, its horrors, sacrifices
and final victory for "Old Glory
Many of you had a part in it, in its
marches, battles and bivouacs. If you
could have seen the grand parade at st
Paul, with the grizzled old veterans in
line marching to martial music annie
the plaudits of their countrymen, whose
flag and country they had saved, yor
would have had an inspiration of pa
triotism as noble as it was grand. A!
look down upon your faces, glowing
with intelligence and the pride of man
hood, know that if the call SHOULD
come again it is upon you, and tn
likes of you, that the country must de
pend. Brave soldiers are not fount
among the curled darlings who cal
preach so grandly in peace and run s.
swiftly in war.
Many of you are victims of the kim
of literature that has been the curse o
this generation. We have all heard o
the dime-novei impossibilities; the her
who engages in handto-hand conf1ic
with vast numbers of Indians, rescue
the beautiful maiden and afterward
lives in the pages of yellow-b back pub
LEGATION, to corrupt the boys of thi
country. There are now travellin
through the states long-haired fakir
who never saw an Indian, and VIII
would faint if they did see one, holdin
up western outlawry to the youth G
the country as examples of heroism, an
parading themselves as actors in in
possible features of frontier life. 70
and me-not those people on the on
side, who are not educated in sue
matters-know them to be frauds, pull
and unadulterated. While in Ne