The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1902-05-12
FrlZZled Beef and Onions.
Coffee and Saltines.

When the food was brought I'm and set
down on the deal table in the little cage
! that Van Stavern ate and slept in he fell
TO like ravenOus creature. Apparently
| IL did not occur to him to leave anything
on the plates. Between meals he often
threw down a hand of cards long enough
10 eat a dozen banan-s. a mince pie OF
other delicacies that friends asked the
good natured keepers to bring up TO him
Day in and day out the death appetite
gOaded him.
I'm terribly hungry sometimes" he
said 10 a reporter.
His expression was almost precisely
that Of Gagged wild animal, except that
it is little more appealing.
Van Stavern wore his usual hunted look.
his lips drawn in tight. his ObliQuely set
gray eyes shining underneath his heavy
reddish eyebrows. A young priest walked
slowly up and down.
Van Stdvern sprang up like an aroused
animal, threw his cards down and walked
over TO the bars
How do I spend my time? Mostly
on my knees, saying my prayers from
morning till night" he said. wrenching
at the bars nervousIy.
What else is there for a fellow in
my fix to do? You see, nothing else
will do me any good. No, I'm not re-
Agtous. Yes, I am now, of course, but
only lately. In the morning, as soon
as I wake, fall on my knees. 7 do:
the priest viii tell you that. We all
have to die. Oh, Of course; everybody
says that. But other people don't have
to die the death that I'm going to die.
It's horrible death for a man ike
me. Why, I'm a bunch of muscles. I
could lift a ton, it seems to me.
of course I eat a lot when can get
It, Everybody does that And I'm
terrible hrrrrc~y-rr q.
isn't true that I'm spending my last
days in eatin| good things.
I like plain food. and plenty of it.
It's this way: I have to have some
thing TO think about. There's my re-
ligiOn. Of course, and there's the cards.
and after that there's nothing to hin
der man from getting all he can to
eat.
That little restaurant over there-do
they call that much of a restaurant? 7
couldn't eat my head or over there If I
tried. I won't say what I like best to
eat / don't knOw-anything I'm ter
ribly hungry sometimes, I tell you
that!
Yes, I'm here for killing my wife. I
shot her three times. / was crazy
drunk. We had not been living toEeth-
er for quite some time. She went home
to her fathers. Why, once didn't see
that woman for three years. Three
years, and that's a fact. Wen. I saw
a woman coming along the street. I
said to a boy is that Mrs. Van STAY
ern% Yes, it's Mrs. Van Staveru.' said
he. Then I shot her. And when she
fell I shot her twice more"
You had something against your
wife?"
Why, Lord me! Nobody ever had
anything against that woman. I loved
that woman. Drunk-just crazy drunk.
If they'd "a locked me up before I shot
her, why, I never would have done it.
It's not my fault. I'm not a bad man"
Van Stavern turned and slouched
away from the grating, his huge frame
rolling as he walked, his suspenders
falling loosely on his collarless shirt.
He shufied the pack OF cards a mo-
ment, looked uneasily from side to
side.
Seems to me it's getting about din
ner time" he said to a man sprawled
out on the corridor floor.
In Camden, where Van Stavern had
lived all his life the talk is mainly on
the strange mania that drove him to
spend the last days of his life in feast
ing inordinately.
Van Stavern surely got all he want
ed for once" they say, with mingled
accents Of curiosity and awe, as stories
are retold Of the huge platters Of roast
beef and plum pudding that the con-
demned man ate for his dinner.