I recollect, after being eighty-two days on the river to New Orleans,
being paid off with over $125. I left the steamer at Pittsburg, and the
first thing I did was to go and get a jug of beer. Before I got anywhere
near drunk I was before Judge White, and was fined $8.40, and
discharged. I wasn't free half an hour before I was arrested again,
brought before Judge White, and again fined $8.40. After being free for
about fifteen minutes, I was again brought before Judge White, who
looked at me this time and said, "Can't you keep sober?" I said, "Your
Honor, I haven't had a drink since the first time." And I hadn't. But he
said, "Five days," and I was shut up for that time, and I was in hell
there five days if ever a man was.

Out of jail, I drifted with the tide. I was arrested for a trick that,
if I had got my just dues, would have put me in prison for ten years,
but I got off with three years, and came out after doing two years and
nine months.

When a person is cooped up he has lots of time to think. It's think,
think, think, and hope. Many's the time I said, "Oh, if I only get out
and still have my health, what a change there will be!" And I meant it.

Isn't it queer how people will say, "I can't stop drinking," but when
they're in jail they have to! The prison is a sanitarium for drunkards.
They don't drink while on a visit there. Then why not stop it while one
has a free foot? I thought of all these things while I was locked up,
and I decided that when I was free I would hunt up my wife and baby and
be a man.

Prison at best isn't a pleasant place, but you can get the best in it if