The outlook from the windows of our hospital is a source of never ending
interest.
We can watch the grass grow and the trees, the birds hunting for food,
the hospital cat waiting patiently under a bush for a stray sparrow, the
orderly of the warden, haughty and always in a hurry, followed by a
yellow dog. Another orderly is a red-headed young man who is called a
"sugar man." He and two other men are the "goats" for the higher
officials of the Sugar Trust.
We watch the visitors come in from the boats; the doctors, the
officials, the prisoners arriving escorted by the sheriffs. The average
prisoner is well dressed; some of them are quite dandified in their
appearance, while others are poorly dressed, some of them even without
an overcoat in winter time. One day a bum came, escorted by a sheriff,
all alone, with a straw hat, at the height of the winter season.
The other morning a big, square-shouldered tramp was following the
sheriff in a lazy, shuffling manner. There was no hat on his long,
dishevelled mop of reddish hair; his beard was of enormous proportions;
his face was brick red, as well as the hands, from dirt and exposure to
the air. A coat and trousers which almost dropped from his body, so
ragged were they; no shirt, no underwear, and a pair of shoes through
which his toes peeped smilingly, completed his wardrobe. A sudden gust
of wind would have divested him of all covering.
Half an hour later I happened to pass near the head keeper's desk, and I
could hardly believe my eyes when I beheld that tramp. In his case the
transformation was highly creditable to prison methods. They had clipped
his hair, cut his beard, given him a bath, covered him with a striped
shirt and a striped suit, and he was standing in brand-new, prison-made
shoes. He looked indeed like a gentleman as compared with his former
wild, dirty, disreputable and pitiful appearance.
On Sunday droves of visitors come to the island on the 23rd Street boat.
The women are more numerous than the men; poorly dressed women are in
the majority; often flashily dressed women with expensive fur coats and
stylish hats are seen elbowing old and homely women wearing shawls and
with babies on their arms. Almost everybody carries packages of fruit to
the inmates. Little boys and girls often accompany the women, and
handkerchiefs are often raised to wipe away tears. It is a tragic,
fateful, unhappy procession.