Bővebb ismertető
The Prison Door
A group of men with beards, in sad-colored clotheJ Hand in gray hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was assem-! bied in front of a wooden edifice, the heavy door made of oak and studs' of iron.
The founders of a new colony have invariably rec-ognized the necessity of immediately choosing a portion of this new land as a cemetery, and another portion as a prison. In accordance with this rule, the forefathers of Boston had built the first prison house somewhere in the vicinity of Cornhill and the first burial ground2 on Isaac Johnsons lot. It is certain that, some fifteen or twenty years after the settlement of the town, the wooden jail was already marked with weather-stains and other indications of age. The rust on the iron-work of the wooden door lopked more antique than anything else in the New World. There was grass and unsightly végétation in front of this ugly edifice. But on one side of the door was a wild rosebush, covered, in this month df June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the condemned criminal as he came out to face his destiny, indicating that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him.
Finding it so directly on the threshold3 of our narrative, we decided to pluck one of its flowers, and present it to the reader. It may serve, let us hope, to
1. stud: (n) an ornamental projection protuding from a surface.
2. burial ground: (n) cemetry, graveyard.
3. threshold: (n) doorway or entrance {here, starteing point).