The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1912-12-02
BY ESTHER GRIFFIN WHITE.

Seventeen men waiting on death
row."
This isn't a line from one of Kip
ling's poems although it has a sort OF
Danny Deever," sound.
But quotation from a. newspaper
Or a near-quotation.
For this is the meaning if not the
actual words.
And it referred to "Gyp the Blood
"Leftie Louie" and others of the noto-
rious gunner whose trials in New
York recently have attracted interna-
tional attention.
The swift bringing to trial and con-
viction of these men was triumph
for the law.
Those famous laws delays" which
have disgraced the courts Of this coun-
try oftener than not were conspicuous
ly absent in these cases
The men deserved conviction.
Their crime was an outrage in this
allegedly civilized day.
Although our civilization is more or
less CHASTITY joke. But passing that
up, the men were meted out a fair
of the laws of society.
That is not the theme-if it could
so be dignified-of this diatribe.
They got what was coming to
Them" in common parlance, and it
must be said, they swallowed the bit
ter dose without a single wry face.
A good deal of fatalism exists in
what is termed the under world
"Well, they've got me at last" it
says, but l gave 'em a run for their
money And the spoils to the victor"
But it's these seventeen men in
Sing Sing awaiting electrocution in
the death-house that fixes the atten.
ton.
There they sit.
Waiting to be pushed into the HUI.
man shambles like so many animals
waiting the butchers knife.
The animals mutely protest against
the infringement on their liberty OF
movement.
They are unaware of their fate.
The human beings have mind, con-
seriousness, soul.
And they sit the while the clock
ticks off the hideous hours.
Civilization invents the very refine
ment of torture.
Instead of rushing it's victims to
their execution before they have time
to know or think or feel-dazed, un-
protesting, stunned-it takes them to
a little cage, shuts them in and bids
them stay for days, or weeks, or even
months.
Every day brings the black spectre
nearer.
Every night closes them in with it's
ghost.
Down the black vista stalks the
grim figure
Over the gloom of the landscape set
ties the dank. malodorous shadow
Round them is wrapped the stirling
pail of the memorable.
And they are harried by the phan-
tom of fear.
The old inquisitors chained a man
in an underground cell and sent him
to oblivion by the insanity route
through the single drops of water on
his head-whose repetition made him
mad.
But how much better are We?
What, indeed, does our civilization
amount to so long as we still take life.
What is this blither of the brother
hood of man the while we murder by
law
What is the meaning of the promul-
cation of the principles of the Christ
when We still nail down to our statute
books the old "eye for an eye, tooth
for tooth
The truth is that capital punishment
is as inexcusable as it is archaic
So long as it is continued by the So
called Christian nations. just so long
do we remain in that bondage from
which Christianity is supposed to
have set US free.
But what of the other fellow, you
ask. What of the one who was coldly,
relentlessly deprived of life?
Think of him!
Was he given chance?
Did the murderer stop to think?
Isn't the murderer getting just what
he deserves?