ng more than right to give him an easier task at
first and let him gradually become hardened to his work at coal digging.
Nothing of this kind is done. The young, the old, the middle-aged are
indiscriminately and unceremoniously thrust into the mine. Down there
are nearly five hundred prisoners. Among them are boys from seventeen to
twenty years of age, many of whom are in delicate health. Here are to
be found old men, in some cases sixty years of age. I do not wish to
be understood as casting any reflections upon the officers of this
institution. They cannot help these things. If Warden Smith could avoid
it there would not be a single man sent down to that region of death.
The mines are there and must be worked. Let this blame fall where it
belongs. I must say injustice to our common humanity, that to work these
two classes, the boys and old men, in those coal mines is a burning
shame and outrage. It is bad enough, as the sequel will show, to put
able-bodied, middle-aged men to work in that pit. The great State of
Kansas has opened those mines. Her Legislature has decided to have them
worked. It becomes the duty, therefore, of the prison directors to work
them as long as they are instructed to do so, even if scores of human
beings are maimed for life or murdered outright each year. The blame
cannot rest on the prison officials, but upon our lawmakers.

CHAPTER III. THE COAL MINES (Continued)

After we had mined some twenty-five feet we took down the coal. To do
this the wedges are set and driven in at the top of the vein of coal,
with the sledge hammer. After my companion had struck the coal several
times it began to pop and crack as if it would fall at any moment. I
became alarmed. I was never in such a place before, and I said: "George,
had I not better get out of this place? I don't want the coal to fall on
me the first day." His reply was, that if I wanted to learn how to mine
I must remain near the coal and take my chances of being killed. This
was indeed comforting! Then he informed me that he was going to knock on
the coal and wanted me to catch the sound that was produced. He thumped
away, and I got the sound--a dull, heavy thud. Now, says he, "when coal
sounds in that manner it is not ready to drop." So he continued to pound
away at it. The more he pounded the more the coal cracked and the more
alarmed I became. I was afraid it would drop at any moment and crush me.
I begged of him to cease pounding until