the attempt of warden sage, of sing sing, to provide literary labor for the idle convicts has excited so much interest that yesterday morning a party of well-known literary men visited the state prison on invitation of the warden, and made a careful inspection of the methods employed in turning out convict-labor prose and verse.
some of this work is done in the cells, and some is carried on in the shops formerly devoted to the manufacture of clothing, brushes, shoes, and other articles turned out under the old contract system. in the corridors outside the[pg 324] cells and in the shops were to be seen “trusties” going about with dictionaries, both webster and rhyming, which they supplied to any convict who raised his hand as a signal.
the visitors proceeded down one of the corridors, and, at the request of the warden, examined some of the pieces of manuscript that were passed out to them through the cell bars. on one tier they found a squad of short-term men hard at work on a job intended for the “home and fireside” department of a new weekly. they examined with much interest a serviceable article called “how to dress well for very little money,” which bore the signature of “fairy casey,” and were much pleased with its style and texture. mr. gilder, who was of the party, and has had long experience in reading manuscript, was inclined to criticise the paragraph which stated that linemen’s boots could be worn[pg 325] at all times after dark, but it was explained to him that that was merely carelessness on the part of mr. casey, who is a second-story man, and who forgot he was not writing exclusively for his own profession.
at the next cell they stopped to look at an essay called “umbrellas and cake baskets, spoons and candlesticks, or how to make home beautiful,” the work of “slippery dutch,” the prominent sneak thief.
other specimens of manuscript examined by the visitors were “how to keep the feet warm, or what to do with our kerosene and shingles,” by mordecai slevinsky, the only long-term man in the gang, and having thirty-seven years yet to serve; “safe storage for negotiable railroad bonds,” by “jimmy the cracksman,” and a two-thousand-word poem in hexameter named “throwing the scare, or the chasing of the[pg 326] comeback,” an extremely creditable job turned out by chauncey throwdown, formerly a ward detective, who partially reformed two years ago, and was caught and sentenced while trying to lead a better life and earn a more honest living as a bank thief. mr. mcclure, who was of the party, was very much pleased with this poem, and asked permission to buy it of the convict, saying that it was just wide enough to fit the pages of his magazine; but his offer was refused on the ground that the verses were part of the job contracted for by the editor of a new periodical. a slight discussion on the higher ethics of poetry followed, to which such of the convicts as were within earshot listened with deep interest. mr. gilder claimed that the best, most serviceable, and ornamental poetry to be had in the market was that which came in five or six inch lengths, not counting the title or signature, and bore[pg 327] the well-known “as one who” brand that the “century magazine” has done so much to popularize. poems of this description, he explained, are known to the trade as a1 sonnets, and are very beautiful when printed directly after a section of continued story, affording, as they do, a great relief to tired eyes.
“do you think the idea and the verses should appear on the same page?” inquired the warden, who is eager to learn all that he can of the profession of letters.
“it has not been my practice to print them in that fashion,” replied mr. gilder, “and in my own poems i am always careful to avoid such a combination, believing it to be thoroughly inharmonious.”
at this moment the conversation was interrupted by the noise of a desperate struggle at the other end of the tier, and a moment later four keepers appeared,[pg 328] dragging with them one of the most desperate convicts in the prison. it was ascertained that he had expressed his willingness to devote himself to literary work at the closing of the quarries, but had requested that the fact should be kept a secret, as it might be used against him in after life. he had been furnished with pen and paper and a pan of scotch dialect, but instead of taking hold with the rest of the gang and working on his section of the serial story, “the gude mon o’ linkumdoodie,” he secretly constructed a fine saw and was caught in the very act of cutting through the bars of his cell.
the warden, who is a very just man, rebuked the keepers severely for their carelessness in putting such temptation in the way of any prisoner. he bade them take the offending convict down to the dark cell and keep him there until he could find a rhyme for “sidewalk.”
[pg 329]“and remember,” he called after them, “in future see that no dialect of any kind is issued to the prisoners until it is thoroughly boiled.”
the visitors then made their way to the shops, where they found gangs of convicts at work under the supervision of keepers. the prison choir was practising some new hymns and, at the warden’s request, rendered a beautiful new song composed not long ago by the rev. gideon shackles, the prison chaplain, and entitled “shall we gather up the river?”
they had just finished, when the tramp of heavy feet was heard, and in a moment there came around the corner a line of men in prison dress walking, single file, in lock-step. under the leadership of two trusties they made their way to a long table, seated themselves at it, and began to write with great diligence.
“who are those men?” inquired mr.[pg 330] mcclure, with some interest. “i hope you are not putting any of your gangs on washington or lincoln or grant this winter, for that would throw a great many of my writers out of employment.”
“no,” replied the warden, “that is simply the regular eight-hour shift of cuban war correspondents, and very busy we keep them, too. you see, a number of newspaper editors are finding out that we can furnish just as good an article of cuban news here in sing sing as they can get from key west, where the bulk of the work has been done heretofore.”
there was silence for a moment, and then mr. mcclure remarked in a very low voice, “i’ll take the names of some of those fellows down. one of these days they’ll be good for reminiscences of ‘how i freed cuba,’ or ‘the true story of the great conflict at our very gates,’ or something of that sort.”
