Three days after, on the 30th, there was brought in and put next to my cell an old man, named Isaiah Cooper, a lunatic, who raved, cursed and tore his clothes and bedding. He was brought from the poor farm where he was waiting to be sent to the insane asylum. There were some cigarette, smokers in the jail and the fumes came in my cell, for I had nothing but an open barred door. I begged that I might not be compelled to smell this poison, but, instead of diminishing, the smoke increased.
Two prisoners from across the rotunda were brought next to my cell.
What an outrage, to tax the citizens of Sedgwick County to build such a jail as that in Wichita. It holds one hundred and sixty prisoners.
There were thirteen there when I was put in. I have been in many jails, but in none did I ever see a rotary, except in Wichita, a large iron cage, with one door, the little cells the shape of a piece of pie. Perhaps there were a dozen in this one. The cage rotated within a cylinder. This was for the worst criminals, and the cells were only large enough for a small cot, a chair and a table about a foot square.
{illust. caption =
JUST BEFORE I LEFT WICHITA JAIL A PHOTOGRAPHER CAME TO MY CELL AND ASKED TO TAKE MY PICTURE. HERE IT IS IN THE POSITION OF KNEELING, READING MY BIBLE, WHICH WAS MY USUAL ATTITUDE.}
Mr. Simmons was the sheriff and he told the prisoners to "smoke all they pleased," that he would keep them in material, and he kept his word.
Tobacco smoke is poison to me and cigarettes are worse. The health- board belonged to this republican whiskey ring, and was in conspiracy to make me insane, so they put a quarantine on the jail for three weeks, and I was a lone woman in there, with two cigarette smokers, and a maniac, next to my cell. John, the Trusty, smoked a horrid strong pipe, and he also was next to my cell. Strange to say, when that jail had so many apartments, and so few in them, that four inmates should have been put next to me; but there was "a cause." Mr. Dick Dodd was the jailor, and for three weeks he was the only one who came in my cell and I was not allowed to see anyone in that time, but Dr. Jordan who called once.
I cried and begged to be relieved of the smoke, for I do not think Mr.
Dodd realized how poisonous it was to me. I would have to keep my windows up in the cold January weather, and the fire would go down at night. I had two blankets, no pillow and a bed that the criminals had slept on for years perhaps. I would shiver with cold, and often would lay on the cement floor with my head in my hands to keep out of the draught.
Oh! the physical agony! I had something like La Grippe which settled on my bronchial tubes, from which I have never recovered, and I expect to feel the effect to my dying day. I had a strong voice for singing, which I lost, and have never been able to sing, to speak of since.
Hour after hour I would lay on the floor, listening to the ravings of this poor old man, who would fall on his iron bed and hard floor, cursing and calling out names. One night I thought I could not live to see day. I had in my cell sweetest of all companions, my Bible. I read and studied it, and this particular night I told the Lord he must come to my aid. As I often do, I opened my Bible at random and read the first place I opened to, the 144th Psalm. I have often read the book through, but this chapter seemed entirely new. It reads, Verse 1: "Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight. 2. My goodness and my fortress my high tower and my deliverer; my shield and He in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me."
God told me in this chapter that He led me to "fight with my fingers and war with my hands;" that He would be my REFUGE and DELIVERER; that He would bring the people to me.
David had just such enemies as these when be says in this chapter:
"Cast forth thy lightnings and scatter them; shoot out thine arrows and destroy them."
7. Send thine hand from above; rid me and deliver me out of great waters from the hand of strange children.
8. Where mouth speaketh vanity; and where right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
12. That our sons may be plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner-stones polished after the similitude of a palace."
Here is the motive: The drink murders our sons, and do not allow them to grow to be healthy, brave, strong men. The greatest enemy of woman and her offspring and her virtue is the licensed hellholes or saloons.
13. "That our garners may be full of all manner of store."
Our grain is used to poison; our bread-stuff is turned to the venom of asps and the bread winner is burdened with disease of drunkeness, where health should be the result, of raising that which, when rotted and made into alcohol, perpetrates ruin and death; Our garners or grain houses are spoiled or robbed.
14. "That there be no breaking in or going out; that there be no complaining in our street."
What is it causing the breaking into jails, prisons, asylums, penitentiaries, alms-houses? The going out of the homes, of hearts; going out into the cold; going into drunkard's graves and a drunkard's hell?
"Complaining in our streets." Oh! the cold and hungry little children!
Oh! the weeping wives and mothers! Oh! the misery and desolation of the drunkards! All from this drink of sorrow and death.
15. "Happy is that people that is in such a case; yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord."
"People whose God is the Lord," will not allow this evil. They will smash it out in one way or another. This blessed word was a "light to my feet and a lamp to my pathway." I rejoiced for the comfort it gave me; for the Lord truly talked to my soul while I read and reread this.
I must say that "Little Dodds," the turnkey as I called him, was often kind to me, but he was completely the servant of Simmons and his wife.
Once Mr. Dodds asked me if I would leave the jail; that Sam Amidon would bring a hack to the back door of the jail and he, Mr.
Dodds, and his wife, would go with me to Kansas City.
