The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1934-04-20

One was a rusty In penitentiary
and the other was a golden canary.
The Hitting song OF the bird and the
crisp whistle OF the man exchanged
daily greetings across the struggling
space that separated them.
This was one OF the first days of
spring TO capture glorious geniality
from the gently warm sun and family
stirring air-nature's farewell to
dragging. bitter winter
Number 991 pressed his cheekbones
against the bars OF his open window.
Even the metal felt less cold and M
yielding than usual Zephyrs stirred
his sandy hair which had become
much thinner during the ten years OF
Incarceration. This morning out Of
the ruts OF resignation which had
claimed his spirit from the first rose
q consuming desire for the far fields
OF freedom and the nomad life that
had once been his.
Eyes hent on his little chum whose
cage hung in another open window
over the way this wondrOus April day,
Number q91 INDUCED his whimsicality
OF guarded conversation: "Can we
stick another winter here, little one?'
be whispered
Notes Of song trilled over to him as
II In direct answer.
Meaning Cheerio' and Garry on
and all the rest Of the uplift stuff"
Number 9q1 muttered with a wry
mouth. Nevertheless mis- shoulders
Strengthened and he responded with a
clear whistle.
About to turn away from the win
dow. his gaze-which had been rivet-
ed on the cage-was caught by the
sight of a child scrambling onto a
chair which stood beneath II The
child was small. and had trouble max
ing the grade: but finally stood on the
chair and commenced fussing with the
tiny door Of the birds prison. AT once
a woman appeared on the scene, re-
moved the child with apparent scold-
ings, and pushed the chair away.
The significance Of this ordinary in
cident flooded the mans mind with the
conviction that some day the child
would succeed with its mischief and
his little companion would escape to
those far fields Of freedom that nagged
their hearts perpetually.
Thus the idea Of escape was born in
Number 991 on this day OF lovely
promise which had suddenly new
meaning for him. Amazed. and some
what hewildered. he for the first time
realized how many opportunities he
had missed; wrapped as he had been
during the years In the dull inertia Of
confinement and prison shop labor
The check-up Of tools was often lax
Ir would ne simple TO confiscate and
conceal files and oil. Nights were long
in which to softly sever his bars.
He felt that escape for the little pal
was destined. Why not for him, too?
The chance TO secure tools came
sooD and Number 991 became differ
ent man. He stepped out of the prison
rut Of resignation into the province Of
love of life. A thousand sleepless
nights had taught him where the night
guard Of his cell-block would be at
any given moment No detail Of Sc
crecy eluded him. Night by night the
four little riffs in two of his bars grew
imperceptibly deeper.
Intimacy. also, progressed between
the bird and the man. Never a morn
ing that they did not exchange buoy
anCieS:
How you coming, friend?" CaroIled
over.
'Finel How bout you, little one?"
Whistled back.
And often the mischievous child
stretched its arms high for the cage,
reinforcing Number a91's premonition
that freedom for them both was a GER
tainry.
The morning came when all but the
last few strokes of the file had been
taken. A few more def moments
work would spell separation Of the
steel. and-escapel Watching the bird
across the way. the mans body stiff
ened suddenly and his cheekbones
pressed the bars so closely that he
feared they might give way.
The child was dragging a chair IN
der the canary's cage again. Today J
The child climbed on the chair; fused
with the cage door, and opened II
The golden bird winged swift fight
through the open window, and down.
ward. beyond the mans impetuous
gaze that strove to follow.
Number 991's Joy mounted to the
peak Of citation. The little pal was
free to travel the far felds-traveI
with him-to Indulge fantasy.
Number 991 remained long ar the
window planning his own escape for
thar very night He dreamed as he
shifted the blOssom-scented air hun
grily. Then he noticed the little boy !:
shoulders dropped IN penitence: go
out Of the house opposite and disap-
pear around the corner.
But why did the child return run
ming followed closely by a sleek black
cat. and carrying something in small.
cupped hands as be screamed for his
mother. Number 9al's eyes strained
TO sect They caught a glimpse of a
Vfeless little blob Of yellow from
which the feathers dropped awry.
Number 991 turned away from mis-
nearly severed bars, despair in the
deep lines Of his sagging face. With
3 watchful look everywhere first. he
fung the tiny files through his bars
and they disappeared in the tall grass
Of prison acres just as the morning
shop bell changed through the ccrri-
doris. Far fields indeed!