"Why are two of them dark wood and all the rest light?" I asked of the same man.
"I reckon the folks of them two had a few cents to pay fergittin' their baby's box stained. It kind of looks nicer to them, and when they get a little more money, they'll come and get it dug up and put it in a grave by itself or some other place. It seems kind of awful to some folks to have their little baby put in amongst such a lot."
He said it all quite simply, quite apologetically, as if I might think it rather unreasonable--this feeling that it was "kind of awful to think of the baby in amongst such a lot."
At that time, I did not know that he was a prisoner. He showed me a number of things about the boxes and spoke of the open cracks and knot holes through which one could see what was inside. I declined to look after the first glance.
"You don't mind it very much after you're used to it," he said. "Of course, _you_ would, but I mean _us_."
I began to understand that he was a prisoner.
"When you're a prisoner, you get used to a good deal," he said, later on, when they were unloading the bodies and some of the men looked white and sick. "They're new to it," he explained to me. "It makes them sick and scared; but it won't after a while."
"Why are most of them here?" I asked. "Most of them look honest--and--"
"Honest!" he exclaimed, with the first show he had made of rebellion or resentment. "Honest! Of course most of us are honest. It is liquor does it mostly. None of _us_ are thieves--yet!"
I noticed the "us," but still evaded putting him in with the rest.
"Why do they not let liquor alone, after such a hard lesson?"
He laughed. He had a red, bloated, but not a bad face. He was an Englishman.
"Some of us can't. Some don't want to, and some--some--it is about all some can get."
Later on, I was told that this man was honest, a good worker, and that he was "self-committed to get the liquor out of him. He's been here before. When he gets out, he will be drunk before he gets three blocks away from the dock, and he'll be sent here again--or to the Island!"
"And has this system gone on for a hundred years," I asked, "without finding some remedy?"
"Well, since the women began to take a hand, some little has been done," the officer replied. "They built a coffee and lodging house right near the landing, and take returning prisoners there, and give them a chance to work if they want to--in a broom factory they built. Some get a start that way and if they work and are honest, they get a letter saying so when they find places. It is only a drop in the bucket, but it helps a few."