. An ex-convict should work all day and then spend
his evenings at the library, feeding his mind--then he is safe.

If I were an ex-convict I would fight shy of all "Refuges," "Sheltering
Arms," "Saint Andrew's Societies" and the philanthropic "College
Settlements." I would never go to those good professional people, or
professional good people, who patronize the poor and spit upon the
alleged wrongdoer, and who draw sharp lines of demarcation in
distinguishing between the "good" and the "bad." If you can work and are
willing to work, business men will not draw the line on you. Get a job,
and then hold it down hard by making yourself necessary. Employers of
labor and the ex-convicts themselves are fast settling this Ex.
Question, with the help of the advanced type of the Reform School where
the inmates are being taught to be useful and are not punished nor
patronized, but are simply given a chance. My heart goes out in sympathy
to the man who gives a poor devil a chance. I myself am a poor devil!

The Sergeant

A colonel in the United States Army told me the other day something like
this: The most valuable officer, the one who has the greatest
responsibility, is the sergeant. The true sergeant is born, not made--he
is the priceless gift of the gods. He is so highly prized that when
found he is never promoted, nor is he allowed to resign. If he is
dissatisfied with his pay, Captain, Lieutenant and Colonel chip in--they
cannot afford to lose him. He is a rara avis--the apple of their eye.

His first requirement is that he must be able to lick any man in the
company. A drunken private may damn a captain upside down and wrong-side
out, and the captain is not allowed to reply. He can neither strike with
his fist, nor engage in a cussing match, but your able sergeant is an
adept in both of these polite accomplishments. Even if a private strike
an officer, the officer is not allowed to strike back. Perhaps the man
who abuses him could easily beat him in a rough-and-tumble fight, and
then it is quite a sufficient reason to keep one's clothes clean. We
say the revolver equalizes all men, but it doesn't. It is disagreeable
to shoot a man. It scatters brains and blood all over the sidewalk,
attracts a crowd, requires a deal of explanation afterward, and may cost
an officer his stripes. No good officer ever hears anything said about
him by a private.

The sergeant hears everything, and his reply to backslack is a
straight-