Cleveland Work-house,
Cleveland, O., March 5, 1896.
To Betsy Gaskins.
My Dear Wife and Only Friend:—I am here in this prison—put here by the law. God only knows my feelins. I am not a criminal. Ive done no wrong. Betsy, don’t blame me. Pity me. I am a old man. I have worked hard. Ive been honest. Ive tried to do right. To-day I am in prison, wearin stripes. I was hungry. I had no money. I asked for bread. They arrested me.
It was day before yisterday. I had hunted for work all day. I had had nothin to eat for a whole day and nite. I was passin up Ontario Street, near Hull & Dutton’s big clothin store. I saw a well-dressed man, with a high silk hat on, with a hand full of paper money, talkin loud and offerin to bet $500 that McKinley would git the delegates from Allegheny County. There were several fellers standin there a listenin and talkin, and two policemen. I stepped up and asked the feller with the money if he could give me enough to git me a supper and bed. I was so hungry and nearly sick by sleepin outdoors.
The feller turned around and looked black at me. Then, turnin to the policemen, he ordered them to arrest me, sayin:
“Ime d—d if I dont intend to break up this beggin on the streets.”
The policemen took hold of me and jerked me out of the crowd and pulled me down Champlain Street hill to the city prison, and locked me in a iron cage.
I asked one of them who the big man was that ordered me arrested. He said it was “the Director of Charities, one of the leadin city officers.”