Trooper Tales — page 207: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Last Cell to the Right. 193 a Porto Rican prison. It is bared of all tinsel wrapping. You will see how the slow suffering of hunger unappeased depraves the human mind—how one wolfish thought creeps into it and stays. You will shudder in horror at the sight. At sunset the Spanish policeman locked my cell and the others—all save the last one to the right. The woman was still huddled at the entrance, while the twilight was deepening—and the man moaned inside. I saw no more. of Tad that night. Did you ever hear a cat step on dry, brittle leaves? It is just such a sound as this which numerous cock- roaches make when they crawl across a stone floor. It will keep you awake. If you are alone it will make you sit erect, and things will become distorted in your mind. Your eyelids will stretch wide apart. The darkness will seem shadowy. ‘There is always darkness where cock- roaches are. The shrill, snarling “peak, peak,” of raven- ous rats can be borne, but the clicking rattle of cock- roach hordes is maddening. Behind shut lids you will see black spiders dangling before your face. A strong pipe will sooth you some. — I was glad when the ashy moonbeams darkened in the plaza and the dawn settled down. The trooper who brought breakfast over from the quarters said my face was white. I could well believe it. As I lifted a can of coffee my hand trembled. The sight of Tad sickened me. I placed the tin plate of bacon and potatoes upon the flagging and kicked it toward him. No sound reached Gomichbooksrco