There's no telling when we'll get
another prisoner. Tomorrow the blacksmith will fix some iron
bars to your window so folks can look in and see you. It will
give a heap more air to the place--"
"Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!"
declared the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction.
The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation
having been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked.
But the judge was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept
his immediate personal discomfort with a fine true philosophy;
also, hope was stirring in his heart. Hope was second nature
with him, for had he not lived all these years with the odds
against him?
"You do sweat some, don't you? Oh, well, a man can stand a right
smart suffering from heat like this and not die. It's the sun
that's dangerous," remarked the sheriff consolingly. "And you
had ought to suffer, sir! that's what folks are sent to jail
for," he added.
"You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of
no crime!" retorted the judge.
"If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had
company; politest darky you would meet anywhere. Well, sir, I
didn't think the boss orator of the day would be the first
prisoner--the joke certainly is on you!"
"I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians! Keep them out and keep
me in--all I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the
world," said the judge.
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