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Updated: June 26, 2025


"A curious mother that sends you here for reform," muses the vote-cribber; "but he must be a perfect fleshhook on the feelings of the family." Send him up into Rogue's Hall," exclaims a deep, sonorous voice, that echoes along the aisle. The vote-cribber, having paused over Tom, as if to contemplate his degradation, turns inquiringly, to see from whence comes the voice.

"Them's my sentiments-exactly," interposes the vote-cribber, his burly, scarred face, and crispy red hair and beard, forming a striking picture in the pale light.

Snivel thanks the vote-cribber, who pledges his honor he would accompany him, but for the reason that he opens crib to-morrow, and has in his eye a dozen voters he intends to look up. He has also a few recently-arrived sons of the Emerald Isle he purposes turning into citizens. Purged of all the ill-humors of her mind, Mrs.

Here he remains some twenty minutes, stretched upon two benches, and eyed sharply by the vote-cribber, who paces in a circle round him, regarding him with a half suspicious leer, and twice or thrice pausing to fan his face with the drab felt hat he carries under his arm.

"A new loafer let loose on the world!" says the vote-cribber, entering the domain of the inebriate with a look of fierce scorn. "The State is pestered to death with such things as you. What do they send you here for? disturbing the quiet and respectability of the prison! You're only fit to enrich the bone-yard hardly that; perhaps only for lawyers to get fees of.

And this generous propensity he the more frequently exercised upon the effects whiskey, cold ham, crackers and cheese of the vote-cribber, whom he regards as a sort of cold-hearted land-lubber, whose political friends outside were not what they should be.

Having turned from George, and complimented the vote-cribber for his skill, he bids him good-night.

"God bless you, Spunyarn," replies Tom, evidently touched by the frankness and generosity of the old sailor. Indeed there was something so whole-hearted about old Spunyarn, that he was held in universal esteem by every one in jail, with the single exception of Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber. "Just think of yourself, Tom don't mind me," pursues the sailor as Tom squeezes firmly his hand.

And yet you sought in vain for one congenial or redeeming trait in the character of this man. "I always find you here; you're a fixture, I take it " The vote-cribber interrupts the inebriate "Better have said a patriot!" "Well," returns the inebriate, "a patriot then; have it as you like it. I'm not over-sensitive of the distinction."

"I gave him a few shillings, he followed me to the gate, and left me muttering, 'Go, inquire of the vote-cribber." "And have you found this man?" inquires the anxious lady. "I forthwith set about it," replies Mr. Snivel, "but as yet, am unsuccessful. Nine months during the year his residence is the jail " "The jail!" "Yes, Madame, the jail.

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