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My Life in Prison Donald Lowrie

My Life in Prison

Donald Lowrie

Published September 12th 2013
ISBN : 9781230288819
Paperback
122 pages
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 About the Book 

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1912 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XXII About sixMoreThis historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1912 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XXII About six years ago a boy named H B was dropped through the little square hole without any bottom that is always kept in readiness at San Quentin. Just before the trap was sprung a little bird alighted on one of the window ledges and chirped saucily. But when the boys body shot down and his neck broke with a horrible crunch the little bird flew away in affright. A group of pale-faced men stood and watched the boys body--the inert head in the black bag hanging down over his heart, as if listening to hear himself die--while it swayed slowly back and forth. The hanging body was only 18 years old. How old the soul which was being strangled out of it was, no one knows. And while this 18-year-old human body swung back and forth--like a pendulum of civilization--another boy, a boy with a squint in his eyes, also 18 years old, was hopping about a loom in the prison jute mill, engaged in weaving jute for making bags destined to hold wheat in transportation to other human bodies. This cross-eyed boy was the partner of the boy whose body was swinging back and forth in the execution room above. Both boys had been guilty of the same crime, but only one had been sentenced to hang. The crosseyed boy had turned States evidence. For doing that he had escaped with his life- that is, he had escaped into the penitentiary to serve it all. These two boys had been at the reform school together. Afterward they killed an old man for his money. The crime was a horrible one, almost as horrible a crime as the hanging of the boy. The boy who was hanged had been pronounced a bad one by nearly everybody who came in contact with him. While at San Quentin awaiting execution he had made a dagger from the handle of the slop bucket in his cell and...