The San Francisco call., 1897-06-06

The lights IN the sky faded and dim med
into strange beauty beyond the bay near
San Quentin. The bay itself twinkled
and purled and dimplrd while the even
iag settled down slowly over all. One by
one they crept back from their work n
the hills these strange human beings in
their costumes of bondage. Slowly, after
the intense heat OF the day, with their
coats slung across their shoulders and
their faces catching the cool evening
breeze, back they trod aimessly, keeping
lime with their weary feet to the idle
plash of the water and the short, trilling
song Of the meadow lark. Back 10 pass
beyond the iron doors and great high
walls which separate them from their
fellow beings and berty. Down the
stone walks and steps, between the bios
soming gardens, past myriads o. radiant
bloom, they walked one by one with their
hands folded and their lips locked IN
silence. And one by one they answered
TO their names and passed in to be
locked up.
Human beings they were, fashioned
Ike the rest of US as 70 face and form and
carriage. Their movements betray the
thought-they are bound, by justice no
foot mind and SOU, answering to the
call of Their keepers going hither ana
thither, whether sullenly or willingly,
obeyiEg. Some of the fiercer ones be-
trayed thoughts which made ones blood
turn cold, and their eyes CLEANED and their
lips drooped and their brows were bent.
Others were resigned, and passed in with
the look Of the prison shame upon them,
4
old man held in his folded hands
tightly fashioned bunch of dainty sweet
peas-carryjn a little of the beauty OF
the world he was leaving for the time
back into the prison cell with him, and
his face was all quiver with his broken
spirit, and in his eyes glowed a trustful,
childish light.
And there were many of these, and they
received the nod from the guards with
juvenile thankfulness, for as the years
pass these men become as little children,
looking TO their keepers as the faithful
animal to his master. The desperate
criminal is more pleasing. 1t is a horror
to watch such human beings, ompelled
TO live TO its strange end the bitter failure
which they call their life.
And the guards wandered up and down
inside the inclosure, and the sentinels
paced from their corners up and down,
while on the hilItors the watchers beside
The GatIing guns kept their eyes on all
th9t went on below.
In front OF the prison in little guard
house near the smiling waters, man
walked up and down or stood and looked
out at the brown hills with their deep
green trimmings.
THAT man?" said some one near me.
''Why, that is the hangman - Amos
LuEt He is waiting for his next victim.'
l stood and watched the fading day and
the tall man in the midst of it all, wait
ing for his next victim" And suddenly
the whole scene assumed a dark hue, and
the world was dwarfed. In all that fair
scene-and The beauty and peace of San
Quentin are unequaled in the confines of
the world-the only blot upon il was hu-
manity.
So it must have been in the garden of
Eden, for so il has been ever since.
Il suppose you came to see about Dur
rant?" And the guards standing about
the great prison door smiled significantly.
for there is nothing to be heard about this
beautiful spot but Durrant. Il is in the
air, and as you look away toward the hills
the round tower of the executionef comes
into view, and you see it in the expecta-
ton with which the occupant stroIls
about He feels important, this man who