The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1902-01-09


burst The widest thoughts crowd to
my brain in confused mass. | do not
comprehend them. My blood courses
through my veins like rivulets of mol
ten fire, burning the flesh at each
pulsatioll. How long the paroxysm
lasts | know not, as in tire. darkness
can take no note of time. but when l
grow calm think out the course of the
trial.
The long hours pass away until it
seems as If the night has come. I find
can of water and gratefully cool my
parched throat. Then | seek to lie
down for the night. but the cell Is too
small. The light apparently grows
dim, and in cramped position / try to
get little sleep Again wild thoughts
surge through my brain, but at last
lose consciousness.
Again l am wide awake. How long /
have slept ] know not. but l am cold
and doze until it seems as il the night
will never end. never experienced
one so long before. The silence is OPP
pressive. There is a rush of cold air,
and l feel that another day has dawn
ed. l remember that | have eaten moth
ing since entering the prison, and also
that loaf of bread lies beside the can
of water. / clutch it ravenously, but
day after day, in this prison? Is there
no help for me? How slow the hours
pass! Have they forgotten me in my
solitary cell, and will it become my
grave! Oh, for the sight of a living
face or the sound of human voice,
even If it is but to urge me on to harder
tasks. Willingly will | work if I can
only be among other men.
After I have almost lost all hope of
escape l hear footsteps approaching.
At last the hour of my deliverance is
at hand. How long it takes the jailer
to reach my cell! He is walking slowly
He halts before my door and deliber-
ately inserts the key. The bolts move
slowly, the door swings open. and
step forth. l devoutly offer mental
prayer of thankfulness. | follow my
conductor and soon stand in the pres
ence of the warden. who gras es my
hand. saying: Il have good news for
you. You are free.
l tottered and would have fallen had
all officer not assisted me. l cannot re-
alize that my Imprisonment is at an
end.
My amaZcment is even greater when
George Parsons comes forward, but in
the hearty handshake that follows we
become friends. His story is soon told.
He had received letter stating that
his uncle was seriously i'll in IL neigh
boring state and wished to see him. At
first he determined to start the follow
ing day. but found that by walking
across to a junction he could take an
express train that night.
Hastily preparing for the journey, he
wrote letter of explanation for his
clerk, but it was laid in book and not
found until his return. He found his
uncle dying, but arrived in time to re-
ceive his blessing and fortune. 1t now
became necessary for him to make a
journey west, and he left Immediately.
Not until his return home did he learn
of the supposed tragedy and he lost no
time In coming to the prison to release
me.
II have telegraphed to the governor"
the warden said, land If you gentlemen
will step in and take dinner with me
you may take the afternoon train for
home. 1t will be an unusual sight," he
added jocularly.
But" l asked, ''how can we reach
home tonight? There is no train to our
place on Sunday"
He looked at me in establishment.
How long do you suppose you have
been in PRISON. asked the warden.
About twenty-four hours
"You were in the solitary forty-five
minutes" was the reply.
But it was the longest day of my life