moments we would leave for the penitentiary. This officer was a
gentleman, and did not seek to further humiliate me by placing irons
on my person. I have often thought of this act of kindness on the part
of this humane official. We took the train at Leavenworth, and in a
very few moments were at my future place of residence. Lansing, the
small village where the penitentiary is located, is about five miles
from the city of Leavenworth. The entrance to the prison is from the
west. Under the watchful care of the officer who had me in charge, I
passed under a stone archway, to the left of which was a small office,
where a guard was on duty during the day time. We were halted by this
officer, who inquired if we had any firearms. No one visiting the
penitentiary is allowed to carry fire-arms within the enclosure. The
marshal who had me in custody handed over a large navy revolver.
Between this archway and the western wall of the prison is a beautiful
lawn. The walks are lined with fragrant flowers; beautiful fountains
send aloft their silvery sprays. Passing up the roadway leading to the
entrance door, and looking about me upon the rich carpet of green, the
flowers and fountains, I came to the conclusion that the penitentiary
was not so bad a place as I had imagined. I changed my mind, however,
as soon as I had seen inside the walls.

The prison enclosure contains about ten acres of ground. This is
surrounded by a stone wall some fifteen feet high, and six feet thick
at the base. It is not more than four feet at the top. At each of the
four corners may be found a tower rising some ten feet above the wall.
A guard is on duty in each of these towers during the day. He carries
a double-barreled shotgun loaded with buckshot. In case a prisoner
tries to escape he is liable to get a dose of lead, provided the
officer on duty is a good marksman. The western wall is almost
entirely made of a large stone building with its two long wings. The
main building is four stories. The wings stretching to the north and
south, each two hundred and fifty feet, contain the cells. On the
first floor of the main building are the offices of the warden, clerk,
deputy warden and turnkey. The upper rooms are used by the warden's
family.

I was first conducted into the clerk's office and introduced to Mr.
Jones, the clerk. He is a very pleasant gentleman, and spoke kindly to
me, which I can assure all was very acceptable, for just about that
time I was feeling very badly. His remark was: "I am very glad to meet
you, Mr. Reynolds, but sorry to meet you under these sad
circumstances." On his invitation I took a chair and sat down to await
the next part of the progamme. As I sat there and thought of the kind
words spoken to me by the clerk, I quickly reached the conclusion that
if all the officers of that institution were as kind as Mr. Jones, it
would not be as bad a place as I had anticipated. I had no experience
then that would justify any other conclusion. Soon a side door of the
office opened and in came the deputy warden, Mr. John Higgins. Mr. H.
is the sourest appearing man I ever met in my life. At least, it
seemed so to me on that day. He can get more vinegar on the outside of
his face than any other person in the State of Kansas. He did not wait
to be introduced to me. He never craves an introduction to a criminal.
As soon as he came into the room he got a pole with which to measure
me. Then, looking at me, in a harsh, gruff voice he called out: "Stand
up here." At first I did not arise. At the second invitation, however,
I stood up and was measured. My description was taken by the clerk. In
this office there is to be found a description of all the criminals
that ever entered the Kansas penitentiary. I was asked if I was a
married man, how many children I had, and how much property I
possessed. These questions were easily answered. After the deputy
warden had discharged his duty he retired. I soon discovered that it
was according to the rules of the prison for the officers to talk in a
harsh and abrupt manner to the prisoners. This accounted for the way
in which I was greeted by the deputy warden, who is the disciplinarian
of the prison. I may say, in passing, that all the harsh manners of
Mr. Higgins are simply borrowed for the occasion. Away from the
presence of prisoners, over whom he is to exert his influence, there
is not to be found a more pleasant and agreeable gentleman. In came a
second official, and, in the same gruff manner, said to me, "Come
along." I followed him out to the wash-house, where I took a bath. A
prisoner took my measure for a suit of clothes. After he had passed
the tape-line around me several times, he informed the officer that I
was the same size of John Robinson, who had been released from the
penitentiary the day before. "Shall I give him John Robinson's
clothes?" asked the convict. In the same gruff manner the officer
said, "Yes, bring on Robinson's old clothes." So I was furnished with
a second-hand suit! The shoes were second-hand. I am positive about
this last statement, judging by the aroma. After I had been in the
penitentiary some four months, I learned that John Robinson, whose
clothes I had secured, was a colored man. Being arrayed in this suit
of stripes I was certainly "a thing of beauty." The coat was a short
blouse and striped; the stripes, white and black, alternated with each
other, and passed around the body in a horizontal way. The pantaloons
were striped; the shirt was striped; the cap was striped. In fine, it
seemed that everything about that penitentiary was striped--even to
the cats! Being dressed, I was next handed an article that proved, on
examination, to be intended for a handkerchief. It was covered with
large blue letters--"Leavenworth Mills. XXX Flour," etc. It was a
quarter section of a flour sack! Nine hundred prisoners very soon
empty a great many flour sacks. After the flour has been consumed the
sack is cut up into quarter sections, washed, hemmed and used for
handkerchiefs. No better handkerchief can be invented. They are stout,
stiff and durable! They will bear all manner of nasal assaults! There
is no danger of blowing them into atoms, and the officials are not
afraid to give them out to convicts sent there charged with the use of
dynamite! One of them has been known to last a prisoner for five
years.

After I had donned my suit and taken possession of my handkerchief, I
was ordered to fold my arms. Prisoners marching in ranks, or going to
and fro about the prison enclosure, are required to have their arms in
this position. The object is to prevent them from passing articles. I
was marched to the building known as the south wing of the cell house.
In this building, which is two hundred and fifty feet long, there are
cells for the accommodation of five hundred convicts. The prisoners
who occupy this wing work in the shops located above ground, and
within the prison enclosure.

The officer in charge conducted me to cell number one. Click went the
lock. The door was pulled open, and in his usual style, he said, "Get
in." I stepped in. Slam went the door. Click went the lock, and I was
in a felon's cell! These rooms are about four feet wide, seven feet
long, and seven feet high. In many of the cells two men are confined.
These rooms are entirely too small for the accommodation of two
prisoners. A new cell house is being built, which, when completed,
will afford sufficient additional room so that each prisoner can have
a cell. In these small rooms there are two bunks or beds when two
convicts occupy the same cell. The bed-rack is made of iron or wood
slats, and the bed-tick is filled with corn-husks; the pillow is also
filled with the latter material, and when packed down becomes as hard
as a board. When the beds are not in use they are fastened to the side
of the wall with a small chain. When down and in use they take up
nearly the entire space of the cell, so that it is impossible for the
two occupants to pass each other in walking to and fro. The other
furniture consists of a small tin bucket, holding about two quarts of
water, and a wash-basin. A short-handled broom is also found in one
corner of the cell, with which the convict brushes it out every
morning. The walls are of stone, decorated with a small looking-glass
and a towel. Each cell contains one chair and a Holy Bible. There is
no rich Brussels carpet on the floor, although prisoners are allowed
one if they furnish it themselves. No costly upholstered furniture
adorns these safe retreats! Nothing in that line is to be discovered
except one cane-bottomed chair for the accommodation of two prisoners,
so that when one sits on the chair the other stands, or occupies a
seat on the stone floor. There is not room for two chairs, or the
State would furnish another chair. These rooms are built of stone. The
door is of one-half inch iron bars, crossing each other at right
angles, leaving small spaces about two by six inches; through these
spaces come the air , light and heat for the health and comfort of the
inmates. When I entered my cell on that eventful morning I found it
occupied by a prisoner. He was also a new arrival; he had preceded me
about an hour. When I entered he arose and gave me his chair, taking a
seat on the floor in the opposite corner. After I had been locked in,
before going away the officer said, "Now I don't want you fellows to
get to talking, for that is not permitted in this institution. "We sat
in silence, surveying each other; in a few moments my companion,
seeing something in my personal appearance that caused him to lose his
self control, laughed. That he might give full vent to his laughing
propensities, and not make too much noise, he drew from his pocket his
quarter section of a flour bag and put it into his mouth. He soon
became as red in the face as a lobster. I was curious, of course, to
know what it was that pleased him so much. Rising from my chair, going
to the door and looking through the openings I could see no officer
near, so I asked my companion, in a whisper, what it was that pleased
him so. It was with difficulty and after several trials before he
could succeed in telling me what it was that caused him to be so
convulsed. I told him to take his time, cool off gradually, as I had
eighteen months, and could wait patiently. At last, being able to
control his feelings sufficiently to tell me, in the midst of his
outbursts of laughter, he said, "You look just like one of them zebras
in Barnum's Circus!" When my attention was called to the matter, sure
enough, I did look rather striped, and I, amused at his suggestion,
laughed also. Soon an officer came gliding around in front of the
cell, when our laughing ceased. My companion was a young fellow from
Doniphan County. He got drunk and tried to rob an associate, still
drunker, of a twenty dollar gold piece. He was arrested, tried and
convicted of robbery, receiving a sentence of one year. Directly an
officer came, took him out of my cell and conducted him to another
department. All alone, I sat in my little parlor for nearly an hour,
thinking over the past. My reverie was at length broken by the turning
of my door lock. A fresh arrival was told to "git in." This prisoner
had the appearance of just having been lassoed on the wild western
prairies. He resembled a cow-boy. His whiskers were long and sandy.
His hair, of the same color, fell upon his shoulders. As soon as the
officer had gone away and everything had become quiet, I asked this
fellow his name. "Horserider," was his reply, from which I inferred
that he was a horse-thief. "How long a term have you?" was my next
question. "Seven years," was his reply. I comforted him by saying it
would be some time before he rode another horse.

The next part of the programme consisted in a little darkey coming in
front of our cell with a rudely constructed barber's chair. The cell
door opened, and an officer said to me, as if he would hit me with a
club the next moment, "Git out of there." I went out. Pointing to the
barber's chair, he said, "Squat yourself in that chair." I sat down.
"Throw back your head." I laid it back. It was not long before my
raven mustache was off, and my hair cut rather uncomfortably short for
fly time. After this tonsorial artist had finished his work then came
the command once more, "Git in." I got in. It now came Mr.
Horserider's turn to bid a long farewell to his auburn locks. He took
his place in the chair, and the little darkey, possibly for his own
amusement, cut off the hair on one side of the head and left the other
untouched. He then shaved one side of his face without disturbing the
other. At this moment the bell for dinner rang, and the little colored
fellow broke away and ran to his division, to fall in ranks, so that
he would not miss his noon meal. Once more Mr. Horserider entered his
cell and we were locked in. A more comical object I never beheld; he
did not even possess the beauty of a baboon; he might certainly have
passed for the eighth wonder of the world. When he came in I handed
him the small looking-glass and asked him how he liked his hair-cut.