The Lighter Side of Prison Life

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 21, 18 November 1908, Page 50

The Lighter Side of Prison Life

By

LONG SENTENCE.

V. —The Barbarian Irishman and the Inquisitive Major

' Of all the curious character* possible tu imagine congregated together within prison walls. Tim Kirton was easily first. Irish to the last hair of his head; possessed of great natural force, had he been able to control himself he would probably have done well, hut. as everyone knew him, he was a most uncouth, uncontrol la ble 1 >arbaria n. My first recollection of him was hearing someone yelling at the top of his voice: “I'm kilt! I’m kilt!” On reaching the room where he was working by himself, there was Tim. dancing about with the left hand little linger jambed firmly between the stone he was cutting. Which had slipped, and the stone bench on which it stood. It was impossible for the moment not to laugh, and, as •Tim's vocabulary was choice, we had the full benefit. The linger was so badly crushed he lost the first joint. Of course, he petitioned for time off for injury 'sustained while on the works, and was allowed four months’ special remission. During the remainder of his sentence, his mind was constantly occupied with the proposition: “If the first joint of the little linger was worth four months, how many joints would it take to wipe out a three years' sentence?” or. as he called it, “sintince.” This recalls the case of a great, strong healthy man named Birk, with a short sentence, who deliberately induced a fel-low-prisoner to hit one of his little fingers with a stone hammer he lost the first joint in consequence—so that he might gel into the prison hospital for the winter. Shortly after the two fell out, the story got wind, and Birk was sent to a cell, where he spent the winter/limited to the smallest amount of exercise the law allowed.. These/sort of cases are extremely rare. To return to Tim. He was often ill-tempered and morose. day. a fellow-prisoner said to him: What's .up. Tim! Aren't you well?” No answer; question repeated 'Why should you think anything the matter wid me? said Tim. -Yon 'did not speak!” .T'an’t I spake whin 1 loike? Am T compilled to spake whin 1 don't want to spake? “No,” said the other, "but we get <»u alright, and 1 thought something was wrong.” “There's nothing wrong wid you. but how the do you expict me to get on wid you. whin I git on W»<l meself?” was Tim's reply. latter Tim returned for a long sentence. There were a large number of chajgeagainst him—all paltry but one. for breaking info a place and stealing a safe, which, as he had wheeled it away on a barrow. was casilv tracked, and which.

after all his trouble, he could not open. When tried at the Supreme Court, the safe case came on first or second l , and Tim received three years' hard labour for it. The other charges followed quickly one on top of another, until the judge, getting tired, gave him eight years for stealing a 30/ watch. This of course, covered the other sentences. During the whole of the eight years Tim's complaint was he hadn't got justice, lie would say: “Three years for a safe, and eight for a bloomin’ watch. Do you call that justice? If he’d given rue eight for the s afe, I wouldn't have minded.’’ It has been stopped now, but at one time for several years, through the kindness of outside people, some palatable additons were made to the Christmas dinner. Milk and but* ter for breakfast and tea, roast beef, vegetables and l pudding for dinner. Do you think Tim would touch them? Not lie. lie wanted his lights—dry bread and milkless tea for breakfast. And l he would touch nothing <<se. The following lines were written by a public school man, now in England, in which allusion to the dinner is made: — King Xmas is heie, let us give him all hail, As the blithesomest day of the year; ♦Whose presence adorns the grim walls of the gaol. And makes the place look less severe. They may stop the dinner —- they can’t stop the day, Or the thoughts that spring tip in the mind: la spite of the rules, Xmas still holds its sway, Ami ever will., time out of mind. The thought of the 'grand federation of ma ti. The wish to be thoughtful and kind; The honest resolve to do ..what we can, To cheer those aiixioug, in mjpd. Xmas looks iu our eyesj©Xmas love in our hearts, Helping hands that, when ueedful, won’t fail; No reason why all should not bear manly parts, *<«/,• Because they reside In a gaol. ♦At Xmas and Easter, the prisoners, for over 20 years, have been allowed, and take great interest in, decorating the chapel. To return to Tim. On one occasion, for some ten days, he refused all food; and as far as could be .discovered, nothing passed his lips but a little water. He was placed in an observation celt and closely watched); and as he was ailing, was daily allowed a pint of milk. This, each morning on receiving, he deliberately poured down a sink in the presence of the warder/who gave.it to him. At length the late Dr. I’hilson told him that unless he ate his food, other means of adminis-

tering nourishment would be resorted to. An instrument for the purpose was displayed for Tim's benefit, and its method of use e.vpiaineu to mm. The indignity accompanying the forcible carrying out of these proceedings was too much for Tim. “Do you tell me you’d do that to a man?” he said to the doctor. “Well, you shan’t do it to me —where’s my dinner; I’ll ate it! ” From then he took his rations like anyone else. He learned to read in prison. For years, through fear of ridicule, he would) not try. When once started, he got on amaz- . ingly. He slept in a large room with a number of others, one of whom taught him. He was most trying—would only work when inclined, and was often very abusive. “What letter is that?” inquired his tutor, when he was learning the alphabet. Tim hesitated; “F” said the tutor. “It’s not F,” said Tim. “ Yeg, it’s F; it comes betwen E and G.” “ I tell you it’s not F,” shouted Tim. “ Do you think I don't know F whin I see it? What do you take me for? To Tipperary wid you and your F! ” And the lesson book was thrown with all his force, just missing his tutor. However, when once he had mastered the alphabet, he got on rapidly, and was soon able to read without assistance. Tim was constitutionally not strong. On one occasion, at the public hospital, it was thought he could not live through the night. A screen was put round him—lie was told it would be more comfortable for him. He said, “ Y’ou think I’m going to die; well, I tell you I’m not!” Next morning, on seeing the doctor, he said, “What did I tell you? You call yourself a doctor; a nice sort of a doctor you are, to try and make a man think he’s dying whin he’s not.” “And what do you think the doctor said? ” remarked Tim to.a friend: “That I must have got a heart like a horse.” “You’re right; that’s just what it is—a fool's game getting in here,” said Tim. “ Whin did I begin ; I'll tell you now. I was living in a boarding house. There was a bloke there with plinty of beans, and I thought som av thim would just do me. As the clock shtruck twilve I wint into his bedroom. What do you think I did? I shtruck a match—whin, there was my bloke, lyjng awake, wid a his handt Sez he: “I’ve bin ixpictiqg you but I didn’t ixpiet you to' be so'bbliging as to bring a Tight? wid you. Go back to bed.” sez he, “.and don’t disturb me “ He was a gbod bloke, that,’ 1 - said Tim. “Tile nixt toime it was a cheque I thought I’d loike. Got it all right. Nixt morning, whin the bank opened, I wint in an’ prisintid it, whin out comes a detective from behind a door. He says, ‘l’ve bin ixpicting you,’ ” and Tim laughed. Tim was rarely punished. To some prisoners it seemed unfair that one man should be punished for a fault and not another. The prison, authorities have great powers conferred on them by law, which are used generally with discretion. Considering Tim's peculiar nature, punishing him would have done no good,- and would have been downright cruelty. So, with many others, while the application

of the law outside may occasionally appear vindictive, within the walls, although discipline must be maintained, it is very rare there is any suspicion of anything of the kind, and a great deal of forbearance is shown. One fine morning, a large, rather florid - looking man of military appearance eye-glass, cane, _ knickerbockers, spats — sauntered into the prison, sending in his card, Major Russelton, to the gaoler. The latter eame in greeting him with effusion. The Major inquired if he could be shown round the prison, mentioning that he was a Deputy Governor of Dartmoor on a tour of the colony. He was escorted by the gaoler and 'chief warder, Mr Ironsides, over every part of the prison. He examined the rations, tasted the soup, remarking it was better than they got in the Old Country, complimented the gaoier on the cleanliness and up-to-dateness of the place, and concluded by saying that when he left they were thinking about having the telephone laid on at Dartmoor. Exactly who this humorist was I don't think was ever known. Some few months, later, however, he returned to Mount Eden for a term of three years. He was educated, had a cultivated accent, was amusing, and not at all a bad fellow. His own account of his first interview with the late Mi' Severne was something as follows. He explained his visit had been made while under the influence of drink, and hoped it would not be remembered against him. Mr Severne looked at him, then, as if in soliloquy, said, “In this ease I should hardly have thought it.” To the Major: “Every year confirms me in an opinion formed many years ago—that 19 out of 20 of the men who get into prison, especially of the educated men, suffer from curious delusions. From your appearance I should have expected you to be one of the exceptions, but appearances are frequently deceptive. One man assured me lie was the Duke of Newcastle: another, to whom 1 handed, a letter showing he had not a shilling in the world, claimed to be a millionaire. Incidentally I may say they both went to the asylum. My advice to you is, go along quietly, get rid of your hallucination, and you will get on all right. I have never set eyes on you before, but if you are interested in,prison matters, and make good useFbf your time, you have now an excellent (opportunity of studying the practical working of the system.’’ “’Pon. Any soul,” said the Major, “I wondered if I was on the way to the asylum.”