good in the past few days than any other man or
woman interested in Prison Reform. You was not ashamed to make
yourself one of us (if only for a week); you lived as we live, ate
what we ate, and felt the iron hand of discipline. You came among us
as man to man and I heartily thank you for it. When you stood in the
chapel last Sunday, and talked to us like a father with tears in your
eyes and hardly able to speak, I prayed as I never prayed before, and
asked God to care for you and watch over you in your coming struggle
to better conditions here. I know you will meet with opposition both
here and outside. By that I do not mean the Warden, as he has proven
himself to be a just man in every respect. I mean those who are in
immediate charge of us. Some of them are not in accord with your
project, and showed their disapproval by reprimanding us for greeting
you as we did last Sunday. But they are not to blame in one sense,
for they have been here so long their feelings have become stagnated
and any new movement appears to them an intruder. They may be in a
position to prevent us from showing our feelings physically, but,
thank God, they cannot control us mentally. And just so long as I can
think, so long will I think of you as our friend.

You have caused the men here to see things in a different light, and
you can be assured of their utmost loyalty; for I do not believe
there is a man here who would not call you his friend. And in closing
I wish to thank Warden Rattigan and Supt. Riley for their hearty
support of you, and hope to God I may be able some day to thank you
in person. I am now and always,

Loyally yours,
FRANK MILLER, No. 32--, Auburn Prison.

Certain fundamental facts have never been more clearly expressed than in
the first paragraph of that letter. People "imagine we are a sort of
strange animal, and treat us as such." The prisoners "enter here intending
to become better men," but the treatment they receive "causes us to become
embittered at the world in general."

There is the Prison Question in a nutshell.

Perhaps it will be remembered that each evening at 6:40, while in my cell,
I heard a violin played with rare feeling. Two weeks after my visit ended
I made the acquaintance of the player--a young man who received me with
rather painful embarrassment. He had an air