f Auburn Prison; that is another story. It is enough to say that
the by-laws of the League were carefully formulated by a subcommittee of
twelve; and after full discussion in the committee of forty-nine were
reported by that committee to the whole body of prisoners on January 11
and unanimously adopted. On February 12 the first meeting of the League
was held.

Let me try to describe it.

It is the afternoon of Lincoln's Birthday. Once again I am standing on
the stage of the assembly room of Auburn Prison, but how different is the
scene before me. Busy and willing hands have transformed the dreary old
place. The stage has been made into a real stage--properly boxed and
curtained; the posts through the room are wreathed with colored papers;
trophies and shields fill the wall spaces; the front of the gallery is
gaily decorated. Everywhere are green and white, the colors of the League,
symbolic of hope and truth. Painted on the curtain is a large shield with
the monogram of the League and its motto, suggested by one of the
prisoners, "Do good. Make good." At the back of the stage over the
national flag a portrait of Lincoln smiles upon this celebration of a new
emancipation.

At about quarter past two the tramp of men is heard and up the stairs and
through the door come marching nearly 1,400 men (for all but seventeen of
the prisoners have joined the League). Each man stands proudly erect and
on his breast appears the green and white button of the League, sign and
symbol of a new order of things. At the side of the companies march the
assistant sergeants-at-arms and the members of the Board of Delegates--the
governing body of the League; and on the coat of each is displayed a small
green and white shield--his badge of authority.

No such perfect discipline has ever been seen before in Auburn Prison, and
yet there is not a guard or keeper present except the new P. K. or Deputy
Warden, who in an unofficial capacity stands near the door, watching to
see how this miracle is being worked. In the usual place of the P. K.
stands one of the prisoners, the newly-elected Sergeant-at-Arms, whose
keen eye and forceful, quiet manner stamp him as a real leader of men.

In perfect order company after company marches in, and as soon as seated
the men join in the general buzz of conversation, like any other human
beings assembled for an entertainment. There is no disorder, nothing but
natural life and animation.

I look out over the a