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But I am getting away from my subject - the chaplain of the prison. Never once did I know of him to approach Mr. Delahunty and in a friendly way talk matters over with him. While I knew that the warden was not exactly going to turn his office over to him, yet if there was anything within right or justice that he could have done for this man, I know that he would have done it. One dreary January evening the warden was telling me how the chaplain was working against him in an underhanded way. I asked: "Well, Warden, why does he not come to you and have a talk with you and state his grievances?" And the warden answered, "Never once has he spoken to me or made a complaint of any kind. Even in the dining room he does not say a word; but never a week passes but what some of my friends tell me of his underhanded "work and warn me against him."

There lives in Persia an animal having small, naked ears, four toes on each foot,

 
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a straight jointed tail and erect hair on the neck. It is a fierce, cruel and untamable animal. You have seen it in the menagerie, always nervous, always restless, always shifting about. It is the hyena. As long as you live he will never attack you; he will run away from you; but as soon as you are dead and in your grave, he will sneak towards it under the cover of the night and devour your dead body. I have known of a man doing the hyena act, by attacking a dead man's honor after he is laid in his grave. I have known of a man doing this act in one of our depots; and I know another, now in public office, who stepped toward him and said: "How would you like, when you are dead and gone, to have me stand in a public place like this, and tell a bunch of men what I know of you?"

I must again apologize to my reader for getting away from my original story. Chaplain Johnson once disappeared and was gone

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for three days. The good man has too much religion upon his mind," said the fake religionists. "Let us hope that he never gets back," said the officers and inmates; but he did come back. As he is a state official and a public servant, would it not be interesting to the public at large to have him explain where he was? When Jesus disappeared from his friends, he was found praying within the temple. In what kind of a place was this reverend gentleman found, and who found him? I happen to think of an old rhyme:

"In speaking of a person's faults
Pray, don't forget your own.
Remember those in houses of glass
Should seldom throw a stone."

I take much pleasure in telling you about an ideal prison chaplain. When the governor had accepted Mr. Johnson's "resignation" he set about to locate his successor. The governor moved slowly in this matter for he realized how important it was to find the right sort of a man, a man who would

 
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build up and not tear down, a man who would be a friend to all of the boys and not to three or four desperadoes, one who would be chaplain and not attempt to be warden, a man who was a true Christian gentleman, and not a hypocrite. Such a man was found in the person of Reverend Nathan T. Harmon, pastor of the Christian Church of David City. The governor had known him for years, and had attended his church. On the following Sunday he. presented his credentials to Warden Delahunty and received a hearty welcome. The new chaplain went into the church and soon the warden followed. "Warden," I said, "are you not forgetting your morning paper?" The warden of the prison always attends church as a precautionary measure; that is, he sits in the deputy warden's office in the corner of the chapel. The warden always used to take with him a copy of the "Lincoln Sunday Star." "No, my boy, this young preacher looks good to me and I am going