Having despatched it, they seated
themselves upon the floor, around the faint glimmer of a tin lamp,
while Copeland read the twentieth and twenty-first chapters of the
Acts of the Apostles. Copeland was a pious negro, and his behaviour
during his imprisonment enlisted the respect of every one in jail.
Singular as the taste may seem, he had his corner in the cell
decorated with little framed prints. Among them we noticed one of
the crucifixion, and another of the Madonna. After reading the
chapters, they retired to their hard beds. About nine o'clock the
next morning, Daley came to the door with a piece of neck meat, so
tainted and bloody that its smell and looks more than satisfied the
stomach.
"Here it is, boys," said he; "yer four pound, but ye's better take
soup, cos ye'll niver cook that bone, anyhow."
"Do you think we're like dogs, to eat such filth as that? No! I'd
rather starve!" said Manuel.
"Indeed, an' ye'll larn to ate any thing win ye'd be here a month.
But be dad, if ye don't watch number one about here, ye's won't get
much nohow," replied Daley, dropping the bloody neck upon the floor,
and walking out.
"Better take it," said Copeland. "There's no choice, and hunger
don't stand for dainties, especially in this jail, where everybody
is famished for punishment. If we don't eat it, we can give it to
some of the poor prisoners up-stairs.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244