than to mind one's own.
For the benefit of the readers I shall explain why the boys at Lancaster do
not get any milk. First of all, the cows are not as good milkers as they should
be; second, because half of the cows are dry half of the time; and third, because
there has never been sufficient funds. on hand with which to organize
a dairy along modern lines. Seldom more than twelve cows are milked,
and these supply milk for the forty-two guards and employees and
for the families of the warden and the deputy warden. In order to
go around, it becomes necessary to measure the milk and cream most
carefully. Frequently the officers drink their coffee without cream
for there is not enough. I know from experience that at my table
there was never any cream and I had to use water on my breakfast
food and drink black coffee. "But why in the world don't you
feed lots of eggs to the boys?" said one of these good women
to me one day. "Well Madam, I wish you or I
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could lay some for the boys, for the chickens won't," I
told her. It is strange but true that when the prison had only
nine hens the boys would bring in on an average of seven eggs a
day, but when we had over one hundred hens the average was about
seventeen. There must be something wrong somewhere. The Asylum
for the Insane at Lincoln has a large and well kept poultry plant,
and its manager, Colonel Middleton knows the business from start
to finish, and the big institution has chickens and eggs to spare.
The penitentiary has just as good facilities and could just as
well have such a plant and do away with buying large quantities
of eggs, as well as produce the chickens served to the inmates
on holidays. This branch would find employment for several men,
as would a dairy plant. There is also a chance to install a hosiery
plant at the prison. Such a one could be started with a few machines
and at a cost of less than five hundred dollars. It could manufacture
all the hosiery used in
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