A Sad Warning.
Reading edition
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
In prison cell, at early twilight, Smoking Foesters "Best Cigar,"
Sat a convict, little dreaming Aught his perfect bliss could mar.
Round the cell-block, slowly ambling, Came a "Screw," on mischief bent,
And his wide, expanded nostrils Quickly inhaled the welcome scent.
Wave on wave, thro' latticed iron, Smoky clouds rose thick and high,
And the happy convict murmured: "Go, ye cloudlets, greet the sky!"
But the cloudlets, incense laden, Lingered near the oaken floor,
Till the "Screw," with cat-like motion, Stood before the smoker's door.
In the spittoon, charred and sputtering, Lay the smoker's joy and pride;
And the "Screw," exultant, murmured: "Stackhouse will this case decide."
Morning dawned. The "cellar agent" Bore the trembling wretch away
To a cellar, cold and gloomy, Where the tools of torture lay.
Blows and shrieks alternate sounded, And a voice from near the floor
Murmured: "Stackhouse! mercy! MERCY!! P-l-e-a-s-e, sir; I will smoke no more!"
From the cellar, shorn and shaven, Skulked the cowering "con." away;
And he smokes—but, Oh! how watchful Is that victim, who can say?
All ye inmates, take the warning, Gushing from a brother's heart:
He who smokes within these portals For the dire offense may smart!
