What
do people do who have no hope of heaven, I often ask. What a joy to
have a place in view where there is no sickness, no death, no jails, no
suffering of any kind.
THE THIRD TIME IN TOPEKA JAIL.
I had become so disgusted with jail food that my stomach refused
it. As soon as I was put in jail I told Mr. Cook to send the milkman
to my cell. He came and was very kind. He agreed to bring me some
bread and milk, ten cents worth a day. This I lived on for the eighteen
days. In the cell with me was a woman named Mrs. Mahanna, who was
put in for selling beer. She did not happen to have a government license.
Poor creature! She bad been the mother of fifteen children; had a
broken hip caused by a kick of a drunken husband. She was very ignorant
but kind-hearted. The heat was intense and we were next to the
roof. Sometimes I would feel like I was suffocated. The windows
slanted so that but little draught came in. One pane of glass was partly
out and we would sit by that to get a breath of air. While in this jail
I had many offers from different theatrical, circus, and museum managers,
who tried to tempt me with all kinds of prices; one as high as $800
a week, and a palace car and a maid. I never for one moment thought
of taking any of them until two managers came from New York City.
The sheriff, Mr. Cook, brought their cards up. I said: "Tell them to
wait until morning." I prayed over the matter nearly all night and before
day all seemed settled.
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