done, he ingeniously replaces the bottle, slides the flask suspiciously
into his bosom, saying, "It'll taste just as strong to a vote-cribber,"
and seeks that greasy potentate, the prison cook. This dignitary has
always laid something aside for Spunyarn; he knows Spunyarn has
something laid aside for him, which makes the
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condition mutual."A new loafer let loose on the world!" says
the vote-cribber, entering the domain of the inebriate with a look of
fierce
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scorn. "The State is pestered to death with such things as
you. What do they send you here for?-disturbing the quiet and
respectability of the prison! You're only fit to enrich the
bone-yard-hardly that; perhaps only for lawyers to get fees of. The
State 'll starve you, old Hardscrabble 'll make a few dollars out of
your feed-but what of that? We don't want you here." There was something
so sullen and mysterious in the coarse features of this stalwart
man-something so revolting in his profession, though it was esteemed
necessary to the elevation of men seeking political popularity-something
so at variance with common sense in the punishment meted out to him who
followed it, as to create a deep interest in his history,
notwithstanding his coldness towards the inebriate. And yet you sought
in vain for one congenial or redeeming trait in the character of this
man."I always find you here; you're a fixture, I take it--"The
vote-cribber interrupts the inebriate--"Better have said a
patriot!""Well," returns the inebriate, "a patriot then; have it as you
like it. I'm not over-sensitive of the distinction." The fallen man
drops his head into his hands, stabbed with remorse, while the
vote-cribber folds his brawny arms leisurely, paces to and fro before
him, and scans him with his keen, gray eyes, after the manner of one
mutely contemplating an imprisoned animal."You need not give yourself so
much concern about me--""I was only thinking over in my head what a
good subject to crib, a week or two before fall election, you'd be.
You've a vote?"Tom good-naturedly
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says he has. He always throws it for the "old Charleston"
party, being sure of a release, as are some dozen caged birds, just
before election."I have declared eternal hatred against that party;
never pays its cribbers!" Mingle scornfully retorts; and having lighted
his pipe, continues his
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pacing. "As for this jail," he mutters to himself, "I've no
great respect for it; but there is a wide difference between a man who
they put in here for sinning against himself, and
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one who only violates a law of the State, passed in
opposition to popular opinion. However, you seem brightened up a few
pegs, and, only let whiskey alone, you may be something yet. Keep up an
acquaintance with the pump, and be civil to respectable prisoners,
that's all."This admonition of the vote-cribber had a deeper effect on
the feelings of the inebriate than was indicated by his outward manner.
He had committed no crime, and