iter returns
and gives each man a quart of water. THIS IS DINNER. The bill of fare is
regular, and consists of cold water, corn bread and meat. Occasionally
we have dessert of cold cabbage, or turnips or cracked corn. When we
have these luxuries they are given to us in rotation, and a day always
intervenes between cabbage and turnips. In the coal mines the prisoner
never washes himself before eating. Although he gets his hands and face
as black as the coal he has been digging, yet he does not take time to
wash himself before eating. Reader, how would you like to dine in this
condition? The old saying is, we must all eat our "peck of dirt." I
think I have consumed at least two bushels and a half! I can never
forget my first meal in the mines. I was hungry, it was true, but I
couldn't manage to eat under the circumstances. I sat there on the
ground, and in silence watched the other prisoners eat. I thought,
"You hogs! I can never get so hungry as to eat as you are now eating."
In this I was mistaken. Before ten days had gone by I could eat along
with any of them. The first day I thought I would do without my dinner,
and when supper time came go to the top and enjoy a fine meal. I
imagined that after digging coal all day they would surely give us a
good meal in the evening. My mouth "watered" for some quail on toast, or
a nice piece of tenderloin, with a cup of tea. Think of my surprise,
when hoisted to the top at the close of day, after marching into the
dining-room and taking our places at the table, when I saw all that was
put before the prisoners was a piece of bread, a cup of tea without
sugar or milk, and two tablespoonfuls of sorghum molasses. It did not
require a long time for me to dispose of the molasses, as I was very
hungry, and handed up my cup for an additional supply; this was refused.
It is considered in the penitentiary an excess of two tablespoonfuls of
sorghum is unhealthy! There is danger of its burning out the stomach! So
at each supper after that I had to get along with two spoonfuls. As far
as the tea was concerned, it was made of some unknown material whose
aroma was unfamiliar to my olfactory; the taste was likewise unfamiliar,
and in consequence of these peculiarities of the prison tea I never
imbibed of it but the one time, that being amply sufficient to last
through the entire period of my confinement. From that day on I took
cold water, which, after all, is God's best beverage for the human race.