if I had a trade. To this I at once answered, “no.” I wanted my twenty-four hours’ solitary confinement in which to reflect upon the kind of “hard labor,” prescribed in my sentence, I was willing to follow for the next three years; and I also wanted information about the branches of labor pursued in that prison. The next words of the warden assured me that he was a kind and compassionate man.
“Go,” he said to an officer, “and instantly take off those irons when you take him inside the prison.”
of a flourishing farmer. She was a fine girl; she received my addresses favorably, and we were finally privately married. This was the beginning of my life-long troubles. In a few weeks her father found out that I had been previously married, and was not, so far as he knew, either a divorced man or