h of flowers into an immense hand which projected from
a coarse blue sleeve in front of her; the owner of the hand was pushed
away so quickly by those who came after him that Miss Eunice failed to
see his face. Her tortured ear caught a rough "Thank y', miss!" The
spirit of Miss Crofutt revived in a flash, and her disciple thereafter
possessed no lack of nerve.
She plied the crowd with flowers as long as they lasted, and a jaunty
self possession enabled her finally to gaze without flinching at the
mass of depraved and wicked faces with which she was surrounded. Instead
of retaining her position upon the steps, she gradually descended into
the yard, as did several other visitors. She began to feel at home; she
found her tongue, and her color came back again. She felt a warm pride
in noticing with what care and respect the prisoners treated her gifts;
they carried them about with great tenderness, and some compared them
with those of their friends.
Presently she began to recall her plans. It occurred to her to select
her two or three villains. For one, she immediately pitched upon a
lean-faced wretch in front of her. He seemed to be old, for his back was
bent and he leaned upon a cane. His features were large, and they bore
an expression of profound gloom. His head was sunk upon his breast, his
lofty conical cap was pulled over his ears, and his shapeless uniform
seemed to weigh him down, so infirm was he.
Miss Eunice spoke to him. He did not hear; she spoke again. He glanced
at her like a flash, but without moving; this was at once followed by a
scrutinizing look. He raised his head, and then he turned toward her
gravely.
The solemnity of his demeanor nearly threw Miss Eunice off her balance,
but she mastered herself by beginning to talk rapidly. The prisoner
leaned over a little to hear better. Another came up, and two or three
turned around to look. She bethought herself of an incident related in
Miss Crofutt's book, and she essayed its recital. It concerned a lawyer
who was once pleading in a French criminal court in behalf of a man
whose crime had been committed under the influence of dire want. In his
plea he described the case of another whom he knew who had been punished
with a just but short imprisonment instead of a long one, which the
judge had been at liberty to impose, but from which he humanely
refrained. Miss Eunice happily remembered the words of the lawyer: "That
man suffered like the wrong-doer t
|