The Wahpeton times. [volume] (Wahpeton, Richland County, Dakota [N.D.]) 1879-1919, 1917-03-22

edly did, for never once did he write
that my letters made his spirit soar.
My enthusiastic friends convict
wrote her:
"Your letters are an inspiration.
They stir my soul to its profoundest
depths. Dear friend, will you send me
all Of that poem by Shelley from which
you quoted the line, "A star which
moves not mid the moving heayen
al0ne?"
My convict wrote:
"Say, miss, that was a good one
about the cured ham that had re.
lapse, and say do you know the ad.
dress of the girl who said If she is
chicken she must be Rhode Island
Red because she lives in Rhode Island
and has red hair. have red hair, too.
We had bread and sorghum for sup.
per last night. Know any jokes about
bread and sorghum? Might make 1t
go down better. And say, prices must
be terrible If that woman really did
telephone her butcher for a dollars
worth Of meat and ask him to stick 1t
through the keyhole If he found no
one home. I laughed out loud in
chapel thinking about 1t, and got called
down something fierce. Do you know
any more riddles? I'm smart at rid.
dies"
My enthusiastic friend objected SC
strongly to the lack of uplift in my
letters that in the next one I dropped
in a lot of beautiful sentiments
found in book Of poems. They were
so beautiful could eat no supper af.
ter writing them. I felt that hunger
at such moments was vulgarity.
"Say, MISS" he replied, "cut thatl
I haint no Harvard graduate
was away from New York for two
months in the fall, during which I neg.
lected my duties of guardianship tc
such an extent that finally did not
write at all, and my convict slipped
from my memory. had been back
two days when the telephone operator
called me up to say there was man
downstairs who said he must see me;
should she send him up? told her
would see him.
A few minutes later was facing the
wickedest looking piece Of humanity ]
had ever beheld; I can't describe him.
know never saw a more brutal coun.
tenance.
II want to see her." he said roughly,
pushing by me into my sitting room.
He took a dirty envelope from his
pocket and unfolded it, showed me my
! signature, over which were the words,
'Your guardian and friend" "And ]
want to see her quick. None Of your
f0oling now. Where is she?'
looked from my signature to the
address on the envelope.
1t was my convict! Then took an
| other look at the man, and trembled.
"She-she-" stammered, els
gone"
I'LL wait till she comes back. She's
adopted me and I've come home. Say,
has she any money!"
"She will never come back" man
aged to say.
1 suppose I looked overcome with
/ 7
frightened.
you don't mean," he burst out with
an oath, "that she is dead?"
| 1 shook my head to give assent.
do not know what he replied; know
I never heard such an assortment Of
bad words strung so rapidly together.
I rang for the janitor to put him out,
and, seeing what was coming, he got
up to go.
"That's just like you women" he
said between oaths, "dying just when
you are needed. l thought l had
struck it soft for life."
Then he left and collapsed.
Someone on that prison reform board
in Washington had blundered, and in
stead of cheering man sent up for
life had been scattering sunshine
over a common thug with less than
year to serve!
My enthusiastic friend did not urge
me to try it again. She had given up
her convict some months before, had
almost forgotten the incident and was
devoting her life to search for her
aura, or something like that. couldn't
understand what she would do with it
If she found it. She explained, but it
was too much for me.
She doesn't see anything strange in
that word, 'enthusiasm,"- L.
Garside in the Kansas City Star.