Justice in the By-Ways A Tale of Life
ng of 1847 this h
with rum my victor, and modern vengeance hastening my destruction." This is the exclamation of poor Tom Swiggs (as his jail companions are pleased to call him), who, in charge of two officers of the law, neither of whom are inclined to regard him with sympathy, is being dragged back again to the Char
lieve reform can come of punishment, or that virtue may be nurtured among vice." Thus responds the brusque but kind-hearted old jailer, who
, as if his scorched brain were tossed on a sea of fire, "and yet I'm my mother's friend. I love her still-yes, I love her still!" and he shakes his head, as his bleared eyes fill with tears. "She is my mother," he interpola
ectability of the company you've got among. I've heard
you?" inquires Tom, his
orts the voice. And the burly figure of a red, sullen-faced man, comes forward, folds
rently continues Tom, raising his glassy eyes a
just before our elections come off, and a henious offence when office-seekers have gained their ends. But what use is it discussing the affairs of State with a
d prisoner, pressing eagerly his way through the circle of bystan
ing the jailer to bring him some brandy to quench the fires of his brain. The thought of his mo
pitied, too; but the jail is bankrupt, without a shilling to relieve you in the liquor line,"
he whole jail. A week in 'Mount Rascal' The upper story used for the confinement of felons. will be necessary to transmute you, as they call it, into s
plush and other insignificant tawdry among our more wealthy republicans. Few would have thought of one inebriate aff
e my mother, and am out of sorts. You may
king him gently by the arm. "Good may come of the worst filth of nature-evil may come of wha
d falls languidly back upon the floor. His countenance, for a few moments, becomes dark and desponding; but the kind words that fall from the jailer's lips inspire
stance, saying it will be necessary t
" he continues, "I'll enter a 'non-contender.' I only say this by way of implication
n from the jailer, he
y think he has
if a change for the better had come over him, and grasping firmly that of the inebriate. Raising his besotted head, Tom gazes distrustfully
ms! (He lets go the inebriate's hand, and begins teasing his long, red beard.) And, ar
osed Tom, stopping
say, as a friend, that it is only a question of time, so far as you are concerned. Take my advice, then, and cheat both, by selling out, in advance. The student and the janitor pay good prices for such things as you. Give the la
left him one lingering spark of pride. As if somewhat revived, he scrambles to his feet, staggers into the room of a poor debtor, on th
rs to the great chimney-place, rebounding to the floor,
in society, and singularly proud withal, has reared and educated her son in idleness, and ultimately slights and discards him, because he, as she alleges, sought society inferior
ve made a sieve of its back. His trowsers are of various colors, greasy down the sides, ragged at the bottoms, and revealing two encrusted ancles, with feet stuck into old shoes, turned under at the heels for convenience sake. A remark from the cribber touches his pride, and borrowing a few pins he commences pinn
he inner man was but a reflex of the outer. He pulled an old cloth cap over his face, which was immersed in a massive black beard, bordering
sing to him. His sense of taste is at stake. This something proves to be a sooty striped shirt, open in front, and disclosing the remains of a red flannel under-garment. Every few minutes will
h, pointing at the piece of silver he so exultingly tossed upon the table. As if his brain were again seized by the destroyer's flame, his countenance becomes livid, his eyes glare wildly upon each object near him; then he draws himself into a tragic attitude, contorts hideously his more hideous face, throws his cap scornfully to the ground
mutters, with a spasmodic effort
me dog," one of the prisoner's measuredly suggests, foldin
ird says he is past cure, though a g
t the shadow of a doubt but that a speedy cure can be effected, by his friends drinking th
s mother, he would honestly recommend her to send him special minister to Maine
and aggravated in his confinement. A narcotic, administered by the hand of the jailer, produces quiet, and with the assistance of two prisoners is he raised to his feet, and supported into the corridor, to receive the benefit of fresh air. Here he remain
m," muses the vote-cribber; "but he must be a p
m whence comes the voice. "It is me!" again the voice resounds. Two glaring eyes, staring anxiously through the small iron grating of a door leading to a close cell on the left of the corridor, betrays t
r his face warms with kindliness, and he straightway commences wiping the sun-scorched face of the inebriate with his handkerchief, and with his hand smooths and parts, with an air of tenderness, his hair; and when he has done this
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