come into one of the prisoner's rooms unless he was armed. This is a
faithful photograph of the interior of the jail at Easton, Penn., as
it was a few years ago; there may have been some improvement since
that time; for the sake of humanity, I hope there has been.

After I had been in this jail about six weeks, and had become well
acquainted with my room-mates, I communicated to them one day, the
result of my observation:

"There," said I, showing them a certain place in the wall," is a
loose stone that with a little labor can be lifted out, and it will
leave a hole large enough for us to get out of and go where we
like."

Examination elicited a unanimous verdict in favor of making the
attempt. With no tools but a case knife we dug out the mortar on all
sides of the stone doing the work by turns and covering the stone by
hanging up an old blanket-which excited no sus- picion, as it was at
the head of one of the iron bedsteads -whenever the Deputy or any of
his men were likely to visit us. In twelve days we completed the
work, and could lift out the stone. The hole was large enough to let
a man through, and there was nothing for us to do but to crawl out
one after the other and drop down a few feet into the yard. This
yard was surrounded by a board fence that could be easily
surmounted. I intended to take the lead, after taking off my irons
(which I had learned to do, and indeed, did every day, putting them
on only when I was liable to be "inspected") and after leaving these
irons at the Deputy's door, I intended to put myself on the Jersey
side of the river as speedily as possible.