VOL VIII.
e fECYPLE'S. JOI7I3.NAL
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T L o s-t B
AN INCIDENT IN THE ORLO PENITENTIARY
o
Y TILE ABBE
I had been hut a few months in
charge of the State Prison, before my
attention %vai.attracted to, and deep
interest folt,in, the numerous boys and
'young men who we're confined there
in and, permitted to work in the same
shops with old and hardened convicts.
This interest- was increased on every
evening as I saw them congregated in
gangs, marching to their silent meals,
-and thence to their gloomy bed-rooms
which are more like living sepulchres
with trodshronds, than sleeping apart-.
melts. These young men
,and boys
being, Generally the shortest in height,
brought up the rear of the companic-:,
ns t hey marched to the terrible "lock
step," and consequently more easily
attracted attention. To see those •
youthful forms and Ilright countenan
ces mingling with the old and hardened
scoundrels whose visages betokened
vice, malice, and crime, was sickening
to the soul. But there was one among
.the boys who had particularly aurae
ted my attention, not from anything
superior in his countenance or gener
al appearance, but by the look of utter
despair which ever sat upon his brow,
and the silent, uncomplaining m a nner
ju which ho submitted to all the hard
ships and degradations of prison life.
Ile was often complained of both by
officers and men, and I thought un
necessarily. for light and triV i ial ofam
ses against the rules of propriety ; yet
ho seldom had any .excuse or apology
to offer, and never denied a charge.
'lie took the reprimand, and once a
punishment, without a tear or.a mur
mur, almost as a matter of course,
E .omin thankful that it was no worse.
He had evidently seen better days, and
enjoyed the light of honvi. parents and
friends, if not the luxuries of
But the light of hope seemed to have
gano out—his health was poor--his
.frama fragile—and no fro beamed in
his dark grey eye ! I thought every
night as I saw him march to his gloo
my bed, that I would go to him and
learn his history. But there were so
many duties to perform—in much to
learn and to do, that day after day
passed, and I neglected him- , --having
merely learned that his name was
Arthur Lamb, and that his crime was
burglary and larceny, indicating a
very bad boy for one so young. Ho
had already been thet'e a year, and-lind
two more to serve ! He never could
outlive his sentence, and his enunten
ance indicated that he felt it. He
worked at stone-cutting, on the State
house—hence my opportunities for
seeing him were less than though ho
had worked In the prison
: yard—still
pale face haunted me day and
night—:and I resolved that no the next
Sabbath 'as he came from school, I
would send for him and learn his his,
try. Ithanpened, however, that I
was one day in a store, waiting for the
transaction of some business, and• hav
ing picked up an old 'newspaper, I
read and re-read, while delayed, until
at last my eye fell on an advertiseMent
. ,
" A Lost Boy!! information wan
ted of a bow named Arthur —," &c
(I will not . give , his real name ; , fer
perhaps he is still liviOg';) and then
followed a description of the-, boy—
exactly corresponding with that-of the
young coniict,. Arthur Lamb !' Then
Actre.waagotnebody'who cared for the
----- ----
'' :. .'-- . '- • ._ 3: :;,•-•. -:-.:,•::••,:.': .-:.,.• i:I. . tI 7 Z5,T,U0
' •
. •
.. . .
.. . „ .. • •., 4 . ••
.., to • 't. :14 :! _..., , : — . ID 1 •'. ,• ,•
:': '3.4 f r.: ~- - ~.1 • -4,- tt,TY:;,41,,-'
1 • •:
-
poor boy, if,
,indeed it Vl3 ' S be.; Per-
haps . a mother, his father, ilia hinthers
and sisters, who were searching fur;
MM.' . The advertisement was nearly
a year old,yet . l doubted and soon
$l.OO
125
as the convictswere lucked up, I -sent
for Arthur Lamb. He .came, as a
matter of course, with the same :pale,
uncomplaining face and hopeless gait
—thinking, no doubt, that something
had gone wrong, and been laid to his
charge
I was examing the 'Convicts . ' Regis
ter when he camp in ; and when 1
looked up, thet:e he stood, a perfect
image of despair. I asked him his
name. He quickly replied—
" Arthur."
" Arthur w'')at ?" sild I, speaking
sternly
Aram r
ho,3itatingly. •
Have you a father or mother liv
?" I asked. '
jug
.His eye brightened—his voice quiv
ered, as he exclaimed :
:„" 0 ! have you heard from Mother ?
Is she alive? is she ?" and tears,
which I had never seen him shed be-
fore, ran like great rain drops down
his cheeks: As be became calm from
suspense, I told him I had not heard
from his parents, but that I had a paper
I wished him to read.
Ile took the 'advertisement which
I cut from the paper, and as he read it,
he exclaimed—
• That's me ! that's me!" and again
sobs choked his utterance.
assured him that the advertisement
vas all I could tell • him about his pa
rents—and that as it requested infor
mation, I desired to know what. 1
should write in reply. The advertise
ment directed information to be sent to
the editor of the Christian Chronicle.
New York.
" 0, do not ‘vrite," be said, " It, will
break my mother's heart !".
I told him I mutt write ; anti that it
would be a lighter blow to- his moth
er's feelings to know where he was,
than the terrible uncertainty Which
must haunt her mind day and night.—
So lie consented ; and taking him to
my room, I drew from him, in sub
stance, the following story :.
Jlisfather was a respectable and
wealthy mschanic in an interior town
of the 'state of New York. At the
holding of the State Agricultural Fair
in his native town, he got acquainted
with two stranger buys, older than
himself, who persu tded him to mit
away from his' home; and do . to - the
West. lie foolishly consented, with
high hopes ofhappy times, I/C%ir scenes
and great fortune. They came as far
as Cleveland, where they remained
SOVet al days. Qae morning the other
two boys came to his room early, and
showed hint a large - amount of jewel
ry, &c. Which they said they had won
at cards during the night. Knowing
that he was in need of fends to pay
his board, they pressed h,m to take
some of it, for means to pay his land,
lord. But before he bad disposed of
any of it, they were all three arrested
for burglary, and as a Porticin of the
property taken from the store which
had been rubbed was found in his
possession, he too was tried, convic
ted and sentenced. He had no friends
not money, and dared not write home
--so, hope sank within him---ho was
resigned to his fate, never ,ekpecting
to get out of prison or soo his parents
11321
Upon inquiring of the two .convicts
who came with him on the same charge
I found that what Arthur had stated.
was strictly true,. and that this only
crime was
r keeping bad company, leav
ing his home, and unknowingly receiv
ing stolen goods.. Questioned sepa-•
rately, they all told the same story, and
left no doubt in my Mind of Arthur's:
innecence. Full of compassion for the
unfortunate little fellOw,: I. sat down
and wrote a full description,of Arthur,
hisrebbdition'and history, as I obtain
ed- it from him, painting the,herrnrs of
the place, the.hopelessness of: his! be
ing reformed there, even if guilty, and
the probability of his ne r s . 'isiliiitig - out
DEVOTED TO THE -PRIIVCIPLES DEMOCRACY, - AND THE. DISSEMINATION OPVORALITLITERATCRE);AIND NEWS
COUpERSPORT • 'POTTER COUNTY, PA., JANUARY 4, 1856.
Larnb,"•he answer-
• „. . . .
his sentonce, and described. the pro
cess to . be used to gain his, pardon. ,
This I sent according to the direction
iii the fidvertis.ereent. DLit week after.
Week passed and no" answer 'came.
The boy daily inquired if I had heard
from his mother ; until at laSt; " hope
deferred maketh the heart sick," , and
again he drooped and pined. At last
a letter came—such a letter ! It Was .
froM the•ReV r Dr.. Bellows of New
York. He had been absent to a dis
tant city, but the moment he read my
letter; the good man responded. The
father of the pcn:irbOy had become al
most irisano on account of his son's
one and mysterious absence. He had
left his former place of residence,, had
moved from city to city, from town to
town, and'tiaveled up and- down the
country seeking the loved and the
lost ! He had spent the most of a '
handsome fortune ; hiS wife, the boy's
mother was in the brink of the grave,
"pining for:her first born, and would
not be comforted," They then lived
in a Western city, whither they had
gone in the hope of finding; or forget
ting their boy ! or that. a'. change of
scene might assuage their grief. .He
thanked me for my letter, which he
had sent the father, and promised his
assistance to procure the young con
•ict's pardon.
This news I gave to Arthur; be
seemed pained and pleased—hope and
fear, joy andgrief, filled his heart al-.
ternately ; but. from thence his eye
beamed brighter, his step was lighter
and hope seemed tu dance in every
IMBEE
Days passed—and at last there came
a man to the prison, rushing frantically
into the office,, demanding to see his
boy.
..My boy f my boy ()let me see
my boy. I"
The Cterk who knew 'nothing ofthe
matter, calmly asked him for the name
of his son.
4‘ A rth u r--:'
" No such name on our books ; your
son cannot be here."
"He is here ! Show him to me
Here sir, is your own letter I Why do
you mock me
The clerk . looked over the fetter,
saw at once that Arthur Lamb was the
convict wanted, and immediately rang
for . the messenger.
" There is the warden, sir, it was
his letter you showed." •
Too much of a 'good thing is often
unpleasant. The old man embraced
me and wept like a child.. A thousand'
times ho thanked me, and, in the name
of his wife, heaped blessings upon me.
But the rattling of the great iron door,
and the grating sound of itshinges in
dicated the approach of Arthur, and.
1 conducted the excited parent to a .
side parlor. I then led his son to his
embrace. • Such a half shriek and ago
nizing groan as the
,old man gave,
when he beheld the altered appear-.
ante of his boy, as he stood, ,clad in
the degrading stripes, and holding a
convict's cap in hi's hatid,l never heard
before. I have seen many similar
scenes since, and become inured to
them ; but this ono seemed as if it
would burst my brain. •
.1 drew up and signed a petition for
the pardon of the young convict; . and
such a deep and faVorable impression
did the letter I wrotein answer to the
advertisement make upon the directors.
that they readily joined in the petition,
though it was along time ; before Mc-'
Lean consented. He was 'exceeding-1
ly cautious and prudent ; but the old_
man clung to him—followed .hitn from
his office to his country residence,: and
there in the presence of his 'family
plead anew his cause. At.length
cited by the earnest appeal . of the feat-.
er, the director looked over the papers
againhis wife, becoming 'interested,.
picked" up the answer to the advertise,
meat, read it; and then . .tears 'came to
the, rescue. Mack said, rather -harshly
that the warden ;'would'' let . all 'those
'young . "raseals . ontjf he beialdt' 'Those
who•knOW'Gai. WOod' will =not 'Won
der that, he was .easilYproyeiled.en in .
such a case. The pardon wee irthmed
- immediately.. ;.!
Need I describe the.oldinan's joy—
how he laughed and, wept—walked
and ran--rall impatient to see his .son
free?
,When came out in
citizen's dress, the _aged. parent was
too - . full for. utterance. Ike hugged
thereleased conviCt to his boaom—
kissed, him--,wept and.priyed. • .;Gt as
ping my hand, he tendered me his
farm—his Watch—anything- I would
take. Pained at the thought of pecu
niary reward, I took the old .man's
arm in mine, and. his boy by the 'hand.,
and escorted thoin to the - gate- 7 :liter- !
ally bowing them away.
I never saw them more. Bot the
young man is doing well ; and:. long
may he live to reward the affection of
his parents.—Sandusky City (0.) Mir
ror.' • •
ONE DIME
'Tis a little sum'—'tis often • given
for'a drink or a cigar-.—'tis soon burnt
out and wasted. It takes -ten dimes
to Make a dollar; and a dollar is a
common price for a single - . meal. It
is soon eaten—its effect are not last
ing except when it produces dyspep-
Sia, and then it often costs a hundred
alines to purchase medicine that does
not cure the disease.
To those who never dine for less
than a dollar, how unsatisfactory would
he a dinner for a dime. Reader, have
you ever reflected how many:entire
families in this city, where food is so
dear, dine every day for less than one
dime? Did you ever think of be
stowing one dime for charitable pur
poses, and how much good that would .
do 1 What if every subscriber to TILE
WEEKLY 'TIitIBUNE. ShaUtid give one
with his subscription, to be applied to
the necessities, of the needy and de
serving, poor in, this city—did You ever
consider what a sum it would be ?
Look at it-137,000 subscribers at one
dime each is $13,700. ; What if it
were applied to purchaSe bread, sfiy
at five cents a loaf! It would buy 1,-
740,000 loaves of bread.. What if we
should announce that such a quantity
of bread was about, to Ise given to the
poor in this city) The whole land
would rejoice. How much can be
done with one dime. !
Let us see twat we would do with
it if we had but one—only one dime
in the world—and yet with that must
prov.ble forafamily consisting ale
mother and four children for a whole
day. Wq could not buy baker's bread
at sixpenk a loaf—very mail loaves,
too., never weighing over a pound,.
however moist or however adulterated 1
with corn, potatoes, or buckwheat,
which are harndess—or with plaster
of Paris, lime, alum, sulphate of zinc,
ground bones; and we don't know how
many other deleterious substances.
No, we would not buy baker's bread
with our dime, nor would we buy fine
nour at six- or seven cents a pound,.
elsosome of the • children would go
hungry. 'We, might buy corn meal.
and make a cheap cake, or' a pot of
mush, or a large.pot of porridge; or
we might buy two pounds hom-
Miny, and then our dime would feed
the family one full meal; but to this
hitter article there one objections
Where is the fuel to come
,from to
cook this mess 1---for corn more than
any other. grain requires cooking to .
make_ it palatable and 1 - Vholesome.,
Two, three, .4 . 3 r even ; four,hour of .slowi
boiling is net top ..much. Our, dime
. cook as well as .buy the 'corn
meal or homminy. 'What then Po
tatoes! Lee r tis !s'ee.. 'They require
least cooking,•but. they cost with all
their waterand they are. more than
half water—two cents and a half's'
pound at retail
Then they are -not cheap fond .after
all. It will not do to spend our' dinte".
. .
for potatoes.
What then ? Ft is no easy study to
learo hoW to procure the-Most human.
food fora dime; taascertain how many
huOgry month's may be fed--hdw many
encipiystothaehs satisfied; for one dime.
It is. study ccii> much negleasid. It
should be.taught in.aq public Schools:
Cinlainly-itt hll CharitY, Industrist
and Ragged Schools—where children'
are fed as well as. taught.' ..What bet
ter wisdom,could yOu teach them than
how to :procure.,the .most food for.a
dime? It is a little. coin, but• it can
,be made to expand. It would be real,
charity—genuine charitypractical
charity—to teach such scholars econ
omy in foodliUnt hhiv- to:'eat less, to
:live :upon less•-for - Heaven kriOws,
some of-them-live upon- little enough
,now•--butlO teach them what to buy,
in case of' emergency, with a little
coin--only one clinic. We have -late:
ly learned that lesson,; and will' teach
it to-you.: We learned it of a woman
—that is, the practical operation of it
--:-tieaugh she says she learned it of us,
from something she read about econo
mizing food in TuETRIBUNE. •• •
al had," said she, "one day last
-week,• only one dime in the world,
and that-was to feed. me and my, Tour
children all-day; for I would not ask
for credit•and I could net borrow, and
I never did • beg. I did live through
the day, and I did not go hungry. -
-fed myself and family with one-dime."
"Howl"
- "0, that.was natal!. • I bought fuel
too."
•< What, with one dime ?"
" Yes, with one dime. I bought
two-cents worth of coke, because that '
is cheaper than coal, -and because 1
could kindle it with a piece of paper
in my little furnace with two or three
little bits of charcoal that some care
less boy had dropped in the -street
.
just in my path. With three cents I
bought a. scraggy piece of salt pork,
half fat and half lean.* There might
have been hilf-a-pound of it—the man
did not weigh it. .Now half my Morin) ,
was goie, and the show :for breakfast,
dinner, - and supper -was, certainly a
very' poor one. With -the rest of my
dimi3 I bOught four cents' worth' of
white beans.- By,the by,- I got these
at night, and soaked them in tepid'
ter on a neighbor's stove till morning.
I had one 'cent left. I bought one
cent's worth of corn meal, .and the
grocery man gave me a red-pepper
pod.
" What was that for r
" Wait a little- L you &all know. Of
all things,•peppers and
,onions are ap
preciated by, the poor in Winter. 1,e 7 ;
cause they help to keep theta warm..
With my meal I made three duty pling;s,
and these, with the pork and pepper
pod, I put into the-pot with the" beans
and plenty of water (for the pork was
salt). and boiled the whole two hours ;
and.then we had breakfast, fir it was
time for the children to, go to school.
We ate one of .the dumplings, and
each had a plate of the soup for break
fast, and.a very giod breakfast it was."
"I kept the pot - boiling as long 'as
my coke lasted, and at dinner we ate
half the meat, half the soup,, and one
of, the dumplings. •We had the same
tillowance . forsupper ; and the children
were better satisfied than I have some
times seen them when our food cost
five times, as much. The next day we
had another diMe—it was all I ' could
earn
earn fur all I could get to do—two
paiis,of men's drawers each say, tit
five cerita a pair-Land on that we lived
—,lived well. We had a change", too;
for instead of the corn meal and beans
I got four cents' Worth" of oat meal,
and one' cent's Worth of potatoes—
small, potatoes, because I could get
mots of them.. 1 . , washed them - clean,
so as not to waste anythiflg paring,
aad cut thern_up,and,boiled them .all
to. pieces with.-the.ineat,•and rneal."
- -".Which went the furthest, I",
"Tcan't say. We ate• it tall. cach .
day,
,and didn't - feel the want of mare,
though the children .said, ‘,.Ma, don't
you wish webad - a piece, Otbread.and
butter, to finishoffi' It would" have
been good, - to he Sure; but bless me,
what would `a diittie'a worth of bread,
end butter" be for mY But 1
hada:nether chaugo - next day."
What, . for!another • dime 1" •
had,- day
it. .
'wag very hard, , ,tpAre sure.;, but it hart
teught me something.'!-- • -
INtat that 3 - 'I • '• •
MIVMIE
lirES
•.
That poor folkn could lire a grppt
, • .•. .•
deal Cheaper and,yetterthnn ,they
if they • only knew how .t.).,,econoultvi
fOod. tau have told therci.hrr.
But they are , slow to, learn, or, Toth ; to
change trOin foolish old practices;' , i,
What *as . , your next changer,
" Oh, 'yes, I *as about to tell.ma
that. Well, I Went to the batclr i t!A
the night before , and bought five cent's
worth Of little . scrap pieees oilcan bear,
and I declare, I think Z gut as, much
pound. and this I cut up into bid. -
soaked ever' night—an all-impor
prbiess for soup, or a stew7.cciok
ing .it in tho Same water. T,henl
bought two cent's worth of potatoes
and one cent's worth of 'meal- 7 thst
made the eight' cents ; two had ttl go
for fuel every clay,' and the paper I
got my purchases
.in served for kh:i.
41ling. The meal I wet ttp into atifr
dough, and worked out into flute
round balls, about as big as grapey.
and the potateeSl. - cut up into ;Trees.
and; idtc;getlier Made a stew,. Orchtivt
i der, seasoned WitiCa Small onion: anti
1 part of a pepper-piid that I. got with
the potatoes. It . was very good, but
it did not, go quite so far es 'the - Seel - 4
either . day, ' or also the fresh 'melt
tasted so good that we wanted to - eat..
more.: But I can tell you, stnall'as l it
may seem to you, there is a great deal
of good eating in one dime:" - 1
: So there is;—what B . : pity everybody
don't know it. What alitorld'of gdcni
might be .done with a dime - . .
Reader have you. got a dtme—that
is - to spare—only' one dime t GiVe it
to, the poor - widow. Give it? "INit; ;.,
you owe it. She his given you "tWitts
its value, whether you are 'One 'that
will feast - to-deY on ii — dollar,' . eiliew
stinted with a dime. She has telOt
you—what you never knew 6r6l.ai—,
the value of one dime. -
as a
and
taut
What, a pity so many shouldlo ,
thrown away; What :a pity •we 'email
not teach • this lesson of econottifitr .
food to the thousands' who will - Sur
fer before Spring for the dimes. wait.
ed, through ignorance, when "ditops
*ere 'plenty. Knowing hpw to, ufici
dithe might often save a family froth,
suffering—from beggary—froni deg -
dation. 'TiS a small coinit will biiy
five copies of this paper. What if
you invest it here and give this to'thoso:
who would profit by'lea.ruitii "-how
they can 'and : satisfy' the hunitior
of five personS
—Tribune.
WHOLES E , BEN'ERAGE.74tIIC - 0 - .7PE
the best white Taiaaica, ginger, plot
(bruised) 2 - minces; cream of -tartar;,.
1 ounce ; water,, 6 (parts ; to be
ed for about five minutes, then strain
ed ; to the
,strained • Liquor add ~one.
pound of the best white, sugar;. • ancl
again put • op the fire . and keep sticre i.
until, the,sugar is disso • lyed ;,then purr
into atrearthen vessel into which. has
been previously put two drachm' tie'
tartaric acid and the rind olone - leinon,,
and let it remain until the heat ja.'re-.
(laced to a lukewarm temperature t:
then add a. tablespoonful of ycast..stir
ring•th.orn .well-together,uand.-botiu::
for use,..the:corks• of • Which-. must be,
yell tied down. It.. will .be in big's
perfection in a few days.-.—E.ichaage
paper,. - .
"The best and most conclusive °ar—
son for an. effect; that W e :remeinlier•
ever having. heard," writes a wester.o
correspondent; •vas a..
one idea Putchmap,,in ,Fppply4o i "e.
friend 'who remarked,
'have the most feminine caSt: ebunte
• tuiriee have ever tehe- . . 4 0, hifir,'
wus. the replki ,, L lintsw tte . rea.sonlor
dat : mtnQ, mutt] or Wa3 q. womaxti-"i
" I find, Pick; that you are its they
habit of takitig my best - :d u kes, and(
passing them off as your own:i i tia
you tail that zentleroaidy.eaudoct
"To be sure t do; TOM 'A i triip E gen.
Atthilin''-tifurays• takes' it .It;ke' from'. a'
: ;.::,•••, 4:1 CJ
How does it happen that the Mit
superficial.ciia . tors:generallyinteltb th4l
longest 5pe_qq4901,...T.40 4uPTAlF,Uttili‘.
que ‘ s4on, (,which -is.not* , a,9orni?narggni
appear's' ft) be , that' 'these
endeavor
Itnigth that which , iluly aiataiii degitai
. :
r
a
s f3,Ct;
Xi) ! A.