The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1897-03-27
THE QUEENS PARDON.

On the heights OF Portland the De
cember mists. still undlspersed by sun
rise. hung thick, celebrating all traces
of the prison buildings from the roads,
where several ships OF the Channel
Squadron lay at anchor, and also from
the struggling row of houses at the
base of the northwest slope. In the
prison Itself there was no light as yet
save in the corridors, up and down
which the ever-alert warders paced
monotonously to and fro. In most Of
the cells the prisoners slept. tired out
with the previous days hewing of stone
and uncongenial tasks; but in one the
occupant. n man Of 80. good-looking In
spite OF prison garb, close-cropped hair,
and the ravages of toll and despair, lay
on his bed awake
A little more than ten years ago he
had stood in the dock Of a West of Eng
land city listening to a judge with a
hard voice. though with kindly eyes,
pronouncing sentence OF fifteen years
penal servitude. All that an eloquent
counsel could do had been done for
him, but to no avail. The evidence
seemed concluslvely damnatory, and
the foreman of the jury, after an abb
sence of half an hour, answered
! Guilty to the usual question. with n
ring OF conviction In his voice. The
Judges words to Thomas Harborde fell
on deaf ears. He stood stupidity gazing
Mt young girl sitting at the back of the
court In the company of sweet-faced
old lady. as though he saw nothing. At
last warder touched him on the shoul-
der. and the same instant n piteous
cry OF 20, Toni Toni They're going
TO take you away from mer rang out
In the court, over which the dusk of
late afternoon was creeping. gradually
blotting out the features Of those who
sat at all in shadow. The prisoner
turned round as though about to say
something to the Judge on the bench
and then. led by the warder. he van.
ished down the dock stairs TO the cells
to be known no longer as Thomas Har
borde, but by various numbers; at Port
land Convict Prison as NO. 27."
The sense OF innocence brought him
contrary to all preconcelved notions OF
nlAA'AN VI inttu Ol SuAlcIUC
ton; It merely filled him with desper
ate wrath and blacklist despair In the
early period of his solitary confinement
he found himself confronted day In ano
day out with the crushing sense of tn,
legions Of hours, minutes. and second:
before he could hope TO be free man
/ II ever he were TO be one again. II,
: good conduct-against the very though
of which he at first rebelled. refusing {,
accept any boon at the hands of fate
he might reduce these years to two
thirds, maybe. What theng Million,
of seconds. each one to him. a prisoner
an appreciate part of life; hundreds o.
thousands OF leaden-footed minutes
each one flled with poignant despair
must pass ere the time OF release drew
p. near. At work. under the scorchin.
! sun or In the keen air OF winter. in tn,
quarries It was all the same Thes,
e hours and minutes became embodied II
4 the person of the wardens and fellow
e prisoners. In the presence Of his chains
From a possibly dangerous man he be
4 came almost an inanimate machine.
T. mere cogwheel In the round Of dali.
I toll and poison discipline At first h
Q attacked the stone as though he wer
o revenging his wrongs upon human fies
1 and blood. at last he fooled 1t with tn
!. unthinking regularity Of an automatof
n II takes a year or two to trample tn
z human element out Of man Of Hal
n borde's type; but the effect OF ston
e walls. silence, and brutalized compar
d Ions. II slow. Is none the less sure. Onl
q In his case he became an automaton il
II stead of an animal
n Through the long December nigh
g while the mist enshrouded Portlan
II and restricted the range of the lights z
E. the Bill TO half mile or less. and whili
IT the sirens sounded from the light-hous
n gallery almost continuously. answere
In family by others from vessels far oil
"a TO sea. or booming harshly from othei
to near at hand. Harborde lay awake rec
oning the weeks. days, hours, and mi