The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 2126, Ed. 1 Monday, January 16, 1911 Page: 3 of 4
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Lampasas Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Lampasas Public Library.
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Is Lift Imprisonmenf
Worse Alan Deaf h ?
[□□□□□□□□□□bdddddddI
Getting Acquainted
By JOANNA SINGLE
Copyright, 1910, by Associated Literary Press
yWj HERB are times when a hush,
H a stillness that is awful in its
intensity, falls over a court-
room. The trial has dragged
out its painful length, the evi-
dence is in, the pleas have been made
and the jury has returned a verdict
expressed in that one short Anglo-
Saxon word, “Guilty.” The convicted
murderer rises to his feet at the com-
mand of the judge. He stands up to
receive the measured sentence of the
law. Every eye in the courtroom is
turned upon him and every ear is
strained to catch the words that will
mean life or death to the unfortunate
who stands upright to meet the blow.
If you stood in his place would you
hope for those ominous words,
“Hanged by the neck until dead,” or
would you welcome a sentence of
“life imprisonment?” If you knew
that “life imprisonment” meant just
;what it is supposed to mean and that
there was no hope of escape, no hope
of pardon, nothing but the long
months reaching into drab monoton-
ous, loathsome years of loneliness,
would you still choose to cling to the
life that was in you?
The legal world was shocked and
the public was horrified by the plea
of Albert A. Patrick, convicted mur-
derer of the millionaire, William
Marsh Rice, who demanded death
rather than life imprisonment. In a
remarkable document he tried to re-
ject clemency that saved him from
the electric chair, giving him life im-
prisonment in the place of death. His
jpetition recited this, as his principal
\reason: “Life imprisonment is a far
severer punishment than death in any
form.” This action of his has no
parallel in the court records of the
! United States. It was a remarkable
i assertion made by a remarkable crim-
inal. It caused many Jurists to won-
der if, after all, the deprivation of
liberty ought to be allowed to take the
place of the death penalty.
Judge Kavanaugh's Opinion,
i A Chicago courtroom listened re-
cently to a strange address made by
Judge Marcus Kavanaugh, Joseph Wel-
come, the prisoner at the bar, had
pleaded “guilty” to the charge of mur-
der. It was a crime of peculiarly ag-
gravating circumstances. Welcome
SLINGING RED HOT RIVETS
Daily Show in Skyscraper That Is Be-
ing Erected Attracts Crowds In
New York.
At the northwest corner of Broad-
way and Reads street, New York, they
are erecting a new skyscraper. The
ironworkers who are putting up the
steel framework give a free show
every day to people on Broadway by
slinging red hot rivets.
The rivets are red hot when the
slingers throw them and they can
easily be followed by the eye, even
though the ironworkers are working
five or six stories in the air. The men
who tend the furnace and heat the
rivets have to keep moving lively to
keep the riveters supplied with rivets.
As soon as a rivet is red hot one of
the furnace tenders removes it with a
jpair of long handled tongs. With a
quick underhand sling he sends it
flying through the air to another iron-
jworker 25 or 30 feet away, who
catches it in a small keg. Then the
/receiver takes the rivet out with a
pair of tongs and passes it over to the
had driven his wite rrom home. He
followed her to the boarding house
of Mrs. Mary McLean and a quarrel
ensued. Enraged by her avowed in-
tention of quitting him forever, he
drew a revolver and shot her down.
In attempting to save the life of the
unfortunate woman Mrs. McLean was
killed by a bullet from the degen-
erate’s weapon. Moved by the plea
of guilty and his appeal for the mercy
of the court, the jury fixed Welcome’s
punishment at life imprisonment.
When the prisoner rose to receive
the sentence, Judge Kavanaugh said:
“Welcome, you committed a terri-
ble crime. Your punishment is to be
more terrible still. When your wife
sought to escape you shot her. It was
uo fault of yours that she lived and
that you, in fact, then killed another
woman who was making useful way
in the world. You could hardly get
twelve men in the box who would
not inflict the death penalty upon
you, yet it is the policy of the law to
regard a plea of guilty in some meas-
ure of itself a mitigation.
“The instinctive, unreasoning hor-
ror of mankind regards death as the
most severe punishment. This idea
is not correct. You are now to re-
ceive a sterner punishment. Your
victim died but once. You will die a
hundred times. You will suffer more
ironworker, who hammers it into
place with the compressed air riveter.
From constant practise the men who
sling the rivets are able to throw them
from any position or to any reasonable
distance or height without missing.
They cannot afford to miss or the red
hot rivets might drop down on some-
body's head. It requires skill to sling
the rivets. The man on the receiving
end must be quick too if he wants to
catch the rivets and he must have
his nerve with him all the time, for
usually he is sitting astride a steel
beam perhaps 100 feet above- the
ground.
She Changed Her Mind.
Henry B. Harris relates a story of
an actress very well-known, both in
this country and in England.
A manager desired her services
very much for a part which he had,
which fitted her personality. The
actress insisted that she be featured
and on this point the manager de-
murred. Finally it was agreed be-
tween them that if she scored a hit
her name In all advertising matter
should be twice the size of that of the
rest of the cast.
the day you put on your prison
clothes than she did in her death.
“After that there will be only the
hopeless, painful years, from day to
day, from month to month, stretch-
ing out forever and in agony. In
four or five years the eternal solitude
and silence will begin to crush in
upon you like an iron weight.
“You hear that street car bell ring-
ing in the street as it passes now.
You will remember it in after years
as the most exquisite music. It will
mean hurrying crowds that go where
they like and do as they please. It
will mean the greatest of all pleas-
ures—freedom. You can only dream
of it by day and by night, and your
dream will be torture unspeakable.
“You are so elated now at the
thought of saving your life that you
don’t realize all this. I want you and
the others here in this courtroom to
understand it. You are not sorry yet
for your crime. You have only a
great self-pity.
“There will be few worse men than
you in that big prison, but I may say
the law has taken Its full and ample
revenge upon you.”
Welcome has now entered upon the
monotonous round of the “Living
Death” that Judge Kavanaugh de-
scribed. He is now a “thing” in
striped clothes, a number that has its
home in the heart of a great mass of
stone and steel and concrete, watched
by riflemen on forbidding walls, the
great state prison at Joliet. It is pos-
sible that he has already glimpsed
something of the punishment that is
to be his,, so long as breath and rea-
son remain within his body.
Is the Judge Right?
Was Judge Kavanaugh right? Is
it true that life imprisonment i3 a
more terrible punishment than the
extinction of the criminal? Do men
die a hundred deaths where their vic-
tims died but one? His pronounce-
ment is new, so far as the bench is
concerned. It has been debated, how-
ever, for generations by philosophers
and students. Cold reason' tells the
human mind that death j would be
preferable to a life lived m the nar-
row confines of steel cages and stony
corridors, but every criminal wel-
comes the alternative of imprison-
ment all his days when actually con-
fronted by the gallows or the electric
chair. Judge Kavanaugh’s speech to
the condemned man serves to awaken
interest in that last and greatest of
the powers of the state, the right to
take human life.
In all civilized countries In the
world, with one exception, the death
penalty is exacted of the murderer
and the traitor. Ital^j is the single
exception, but there 9 rarely an at-
tempt to secure the Commutation of
a murder’s sentence ifi that country.
When he is finally sentenced, it is
the end, for there is no hope of par-
don except in the most undoubted
cases of innocence, and thus far the
prison gates of that country have
never swung open to release a mur-
derer. In America there is always
hope so long as there is life.
White celluloid collars, shirt fronts
and cuffs sell well in Manchester,
England.
The dramatld'-critics In their review
of the play, unmercifully roasted the
performance of this actress, and gave
all the rest of the company fine no-
tices.
Along about 11 o’clock the follow-
ing note was sent to this manager:
“Dear Mr.-:
“I have reconsidered by ultimatum,
and you needn’t feature me.”
The Music Was Fatal.
A New York politician once found it
necessary to attend an entertainmsnt
at an orphans’ home and he was hav-
ing a bad time of It. The selection by
the boys’ band was particularly dlsi
tressing. Turning to a friend the
politician said with a shudder, “Nr
wonder they are orphans.”
Matrimonial Muddle.
A cobbler once committed bigamy
And sought by stealth to hide hif
guilty past.
His first wife sued him for divorce,
for she
Objected to his sticking to his last*
Joanna handed her husband his
little cup of black coffee across the
pretty table. But Ward Corson, see-
ing appeal in the sweet face he knew
by heart, answered the glance by a
question. They were alone, as usual,
and the babies had been long asleep.
“Anything wrong, dear? Babies
cross. Kate rampant?”
The young wife laughed at” this,
for Cook Katie was as meek as a
rabbit.
"No, Katie is perfect, and the
babies are angels, and though I must
say I dreaded leaving my own house,
this flat is the easiest place to keep
up, and such a nice neighborhood!
I quite like the looks of nearly
every soul that lives within blocks!”
She sipped her coffee and sighed.
Ward chuckled. “Does the sigh
mean sorrow that the neighbors are
nice?”
“It means that they don’t seem to
find out soon enough that I am nice,
and I will say that I’m lonesome here.
It doesn’t seem that they intend to
make friends. It isn’t as if we came
here from another part of the city—
we’re strangers even in the state. It
isn’t even as if we were horrid
climbers! I don’t care for a mere
calling and pink tea list, or for daily
‘bridge-fights,’ as you call them, but
I do want to make friends. Most of
the neighbors have called, and I have
returned the calls. But that’s all."
“Oh, well, the minute I can be
sure the business will warrant our
staying here for good we’ll buy or
build our own home, and things will
be different. Flat dwellers are
counted transients in most places.
How about the bolfs next door. Ran-
cey has been very decent to me.”
“WTell, she called, and I returned,
and she occasionally borrows some
coffee or something, and I do the
same. And we smile over the fence
and mention the weather, and that’s
all! It makes me lonesome to see
the other women, mostly about my
age, too, running in and out of each
other’s houses.”
“Well,” ne comforted, “I’ve noticed
that things often come in bunches.
They’ll come ’round in time. I
haven’t seen any better-dressed or
mannered young person than you
hereabouts, and you’re miles prettier
than any of ’em.” She blushed girl-
ishly at the husband’s opinion. “And
you’re a better housekeeper than any-
body—things always look just ready
for a function.”
“They are,” she asserted with
pride. “Mrs. Rancey has been clean-
ing and stewing for days because of
a little luncheon she gives tomorrow
to the women of the neighborhood—
all but me. Why do you suppose she
didn’t ask me? And she is the sort
of housekeeper who lets everything
get dirty and then has wild spells oi
cleaning! I can see her from the
sitting room window fussing about
It makes me wild to show them what
I can do without the least fuss! I’m
sure I could teach her something
about a salad.”
The two went into the den where
the man got his beloved evening
paper, and the little wife pricked at
a bit of sewing. . She essayed more
talk, but he hardly heard- her, so she
desisted.
The next morning she sat and
watched her three-year baby amuse
the two-year baby on the floor, and
turned from time to time to her win-
dow, where she saw her neighbors
busy with silver and china and cut
glass. A florist’s boy left flowers
and a delicatessen wagon made deliv-
eries. A smart negro cater ess ar-
rived on the scene, and from the open
window much talk arose. It was
a clear, splendid day, for the heavy
spring rains had suddenly ceased, and
April was a marvel of birdsong and
greenery. Cook Katie, in the shining
kitchen, was crooning an Irish song.
Joanne, looking and listening, felt
her hurt grow a little. She might
have been asked, she thought, if she
“had” been In the neighborhood there
but two months. And she felt herself
quite the kind of woman she saw at
the Ranceys,
An hour or two passed and before
noon she had worked herself Into
quite an unhappy and resentful mood.
She resolved to bide her time and re
taliate. Once in her own house, the
lovely one she and Ward had for
years been planning when they
should finally have established them-
selves permanently in a business city,
and she wouldn’t even know these
people! She glanced again from the
window. Then she heard a crash in
the Rancey house, a scream, and
then some scolding and expostulation,
in a moment the smart negress, her
hat on, swung wrathfully out of the
kitchen, still talking.
“No, I ain’t gwtne stay, an’ be
•scolded! Wouldn’t a-dropped dat
salad nohow ef I hadn't been nervous
long a-bein’ ‘bossed,’ an’ I’m glad I
done bruk de old dish! I’m gwine
home!” And despite expostulations,
she departed.
Mrs. Rancey stood a moment, Ir-
resolutely in the door, and then the
tears rolled down her cheeks. She
looked up and saw Joanna.
“Oh, what ‘shall’ I do?” She wailed.
“Here I have ten women due for
luncheon in an hour, and everything
at a critical point, and that ‘creature’
dropped the salad and broke the
best dish I own! These independent
hirelings—I’d enjoy ‘whipping’ her!”
Joanna smothered instantly a little
feeling of satisfaction, and with her
usual generosity rose to the occasion.
She let her gaze rest a moment on
the man fixing the roof above her
troubled neighbor, and then called
to her:
“Let me lend you my Katie and my
salad dish, and the material to make
smother salad—I have tomatoes and
lobster—and if—•”
Troubles, indeed, come not singly.
Another crash and a scream inter-
rupted the glad acceptance Mrs. Ran-
cey opened her mouth to make. She
rushed inside, and Joanna ran down-
stairs, and followed, panting.
The man op the root had loosened
a lot of plaster which had fallen and
taken the skylight in bits upon the
pretty table set beneath. Everything
was smashed and damaged beyond
repair. ,
Mrs. Corson put her arm about her
weeping neighbor.
“My dear, don’t waste a moment
crying now! You can let everything
stand as it is here in the dining
room—”
“But how can I tell all those
women what’s happened? It was my
turn and I wanted everything per-
fect!”
“It isn’t too late—most of your
food is untouched in the kitchen. I’ll
send you my cook and she can help
yours bring everything to my house.
You see, we’ve lived there by a bew
weeks and everything is as fresh as if
we had just prepared for guests. You
can have my dining room and every-
thing in it, and we can get up a salad
over there. We can send in a hurry
call for more flowers, and everything
will be in perfect shape in spite of the
accident! Won’t you? You will be
‘perfectly welcome.’” Mrs. Ranee/:
wiped away her tears on the tea-
towel she had inadvertently snatched
up. She stared at her pretty, quiet*
well-bred neighbor.
“Do you actually mean it? I don’t1
think I could be as—forgiving as
that!”
“Forgiving? What has there been
to forgive? I don’t see how any real
neighbor could do less. I’ll be glad
to have you—I can take the babies
and come over here and let yon
have the house.”
“The idea! Well, I’ll have to con-
fess! I feel ‘cheap,’ and horrid, ij
knew I ought to ask you to this1
luncheon, but I deliberately kept you;
out because f was jealous. I have al-
ways rather led things in this neigh-
borhood, and I saw that you were so
sweet and clever, and such a perfect;
housekeeper that you might supplant
me. I was—a cat! If you still wantj
me to come—I will on condition that!
you come as guest of honor. Will'
you?” Joanna laughed.
“Not quite that—but I will dres3,
and be one of you, if you like? with
pleasure—and never mind the past.,
We had better get to work this min-
ute. Katie,” she called, “come over;
here and let Mrs. Rancey tell you
what to do* I’ll come take the babies
for awhile.” She turned to her new
friend, who was gladly giving swift
directions to her own maid, and con-
tinued:
“I will go and set the table and
you follow as quick as you like. As
soon as you get over I will dress, and'
we’ll be all ready.” She took up aj
little tray of cakes and sweets and'
carried them over to her own'
kitchen.
At dinner that night Ward Corson,
looked at his wife’s flushed and hap-'
py face.
“Neighbors been decent today.i
eh?”
“Well—I’ve been decent to the
neighbors—it seems to work both1
ways!” She told him all about it.
But the recital would fill a book off
very respectable size. A woman can!
make quite a text of a woman’s
function!
A Fizzle.
Ripley (at first night production)—-|
I understand that Penley had a hand
In this comedy.
Panner—Hand, I should say he puty
his foot in it I
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Vernor, J. E. The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 2126, Ed. 1 Monday, January 16, 1911, newspaper, January 16, 1911; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth910754/m1/3/?q=%22%22~1: accessed July 15, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.