a large penal institution, I made a brief journey
to the land of dreams, and there remained until a noisy porter
knocked at my bed-room door, and shouted, "Nine o'clock, last call for
breakfast, old man; if you want any thing to eat you had better get a
move on you." Being of the opinion this was rather a cheerful morning
salutation, I arose, dressed, and soon felt better because of a good
breakfast. I am now ready for my work--an investigation of the Missouri
penitentiary. Before leaving my home in Atchison, Kansas, I procured a
letter of introduction from Hon. B. P. Waggener, mayor of that city, to
Governor Francis of Missouri. I found my way to the capitol, and to the
office of the governor. After a brief delay I was shown into the private
apartment of the obliging executive, where I presented my letter, stated
the object of my visit, and received a letter to the warden of the
prison, containing a request that the bearer be shown every thing there
was to be seen in and about the penitentiary.

From the capitol to the prison is a walk of but a few minutes. On my
way there I met a one-legged ex-convict who was just leaving the
institution. His pale face, shoddy suit of clothes and light-colored
felt hat all spoke but too plainly of the fact that he was very recently
"let loose," Entering into conversation with him, I found that he had
a few moments before completed a term of five years at hard labor. From
him I gathered a great deal of important information as to the treatment
of the prisoners, of which he had been an eye-witness for five years. He
also gave me his own history. In a saloon brawl, he became involved in
a fight with a drunken comrade, half-crazed with drink. Pistols were
drawn, and shots were exchanged. He received a bullet in his thigh, that
caused the amputation of his limb. His antagonist was killed. On a trial
for murder he received a sentence for manslaughter. Said he, "Whisky
sent me to prison. Had I not been drunk I would never have taken the
life of the man whom I shot. He had been, for years, a good friend of
mine. I will never take another drink as long as I live. It has been my
ruin." In the conversation he informed me that he had left behind him,
when sent to prison, a wife and three children. During his confinement
they had to depend for the most part on their relatives and public
charity for support. On account of their poverty they had not been able
to visit him at any time during his impri