was my reply. Persons sometimes faint in going down this shaft. "Step
into the cage," was the order given. I obeyed, and, reaching up, took
hold of some iron bars that went across the top. The signal was given,
down I started. After I had descended a few feet a current of air
coming up from below put out my light, which left me in the darkness
of an Egyptian night. Down, down, down I went. There are a great many
things in life that I have forgotten. There are a great many more that
I expect to forget, but that first ride down the coal shaft I never
can forget. Thug! I had struck bottom. It is said that when one starts
down hill in this world he keeps on going until he strikes bottom. My
readers will certainly agree with me that reaching a resting place
eight hundred feet under the surface I had found the lowest round of
the ladder. Whatever I may be in the future, to whatever heights I may
ascend, I shall not forget that my starting point was nearly a
thousand feet under the Kansas penitentiary. Water seeks its level.
You may force one below the surface, and to whatever depth you please,
to the extent of your power, but if he does not belong there, you
cannot keep him down: in the course of time he will rise.

It was six long, dreary months before I was able to reach the first
round in the ladder. Through that period I lay in the penitentiary
mines, or at the bottom of "The Kansas Hell." It is said the old
fashioned Hell has fire and brimstone; while the "Kansas Hell" has no
fire, one thing is certain, it has plenty of material out of which to
make it, and an abundant supply of sulphur.

At the end of my descent I found an officer there on duty. He told me
to step off and occupy a seat on a small bench near by. He desired to
impart some information. He advised me that while I was there, a
convict, it would not be proper to assume the warden's privileges or