SHE MAY NOT SEE HIM AGAIN.
Mother Brings Chicken to Son Who
Is to Go to Pen.
"Yes, this is chicken day," said County Marshall Heslip yesterday, as an elderly woman in mourning passed into the jail with a carefully packed basket. "It is probably the last time that woman will see her son. He has been sentenced to serve a term in the penitentiary for burglary and will be taken away this week."
On Sunday from 10 o'clock in the morning until 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the Sunday food comes in. Sometimes the mother or father brings it, other times a brother and often times a dear friend. If the mother prepares it immediately after the others have finished their meal at home, and it arrives at the jail early, it's dinner. If a brother stops at the jail with a basket on the way to night work, it's supper. Sometimes the basket or parcel contains chicken, and maybe dumplings. Others may not fare so well. A few are content with "the makin's," a sack of cheap tobacco and a package of cigarette papers sent by some friend who has been there himself and knows the value of a "smoke" when there's nothing else to do, and the monotony of "thinking it over" wears on the nerves.
