(Signed) ANNA GVINTER.

Sworn to before me and subscribed in my presence this 13th day of October, 1917.

(Signed) C. LARIMORE KEELEY, Notary Public, D. C.

Half a hundred women was the government's toll for one month:- .Continuous arrests kept the issue hot and kept people who cared in constant protest. It is impossible to give s.p.a.ce to the countless beautiful messages which were sent to the women, or the fervent protests which went to government officials. Among the hundreds of thousands of protests was a valuable one by Dr.

Harvey Wiley, the celebrated food expert, in a letter to Dr.

George M. Kober, member of the Board in control of the jail and workhouse, and a well-known sanitarium. Dr. Wiley wrote:

November 3, 1917.

Dear Dr. Kober:

I am personally acquainted with many of the women who have been confined at Occoquan, and at the District jail, and have heard from their own lips an account of the nutrition and sanitary conditions prevailing at both places.

I, therefore, feel constrained to make known to you the conditions, as they have been told to me, and as I believe them actually to exist.

As I understand it, there is no purpose in penal servitude of lowering the vitality of the prisoner, or in inviting disease.

Yet both of these conditions prevail both at Occoquan and at the District jail. First of all, the food question. The diet furnished the prisoners at Occoquan especially is of a character to invit6 all kinds of infections that may prevail, and to lower the vitality so that the resistance to disease is diminished. I have fortunately come into possession of samples of the food actually given to these women. I have kept samples of the milk religiously for over two weeks to see if I could

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detect the least particle of fat, and have been unable to perceive any. The fat of milk is universally recognized by dieticians as its most important nutritive character. I understand that a dairy is kept on the farm at Occoquan, and yet it is perfectly certain that no whole milk is served or ever has been served to one of the so-called "picketers" in that jail. I have not had enough of the sample to make a chemical a.n.a.lysis, but being somewhat experienced in milk, I can truthfully say that it seems to me to be watered skimmed milk. I also have a sample of the pea soup served. The pea grains are coa.r.s.ely broken, often more than half of a pea, being served in one piece. They never have been cooked, but are in a perfectly raw state, and found to be inedible by the prisoners.

I have also samples of the corn bread which is most unattractive and repellant to the eye and to the taste. All of these witnesses say that the white bread apparently is of good quality, but the diet in every case is the cause of constipation, except in the case of pea soup, which brings on diarrhea and vomiting. As nutrition is the very foundation of sanitation, I wish to call to your special attention, as a sanitation, the totally inadequate sustenance given to these prisoners.

The food at the county jail at Washington is much better than the food at Occoquan, but still bad enough. This increased excellence of food is set off by the miserable ventilation of the cells, in which these n.o.ble women are kept in solitary confinement. Not only have they had a struggle to get the windows open slightly, but also at the time of their morning meal, the sweeping is done.

The air of the cells is filled with dust and they try to cover their coffee and other food with such articles as they can find to keep the dust out of their food. Better conditions for promoting tuberculosis could not be found.

I appeal to you as a well-known sanitarian to get the Board of Charities to make such rules and regulations as would secure to prisoners of all kinds, and especially to political prisoners, as humane an environment as possible.

I also desire to ask that the Board of Charities would authorize me to make inspections of food furnished to prisoners at Occoquan and at the District Jail, and to have physical and chemical a.n.a.lysis made without expense to the Board, in

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order to determine more fully the nutritive environment in which the prisoners live.

Sincerely,

(Signed) HARVEY WILEY.

This striking telegram from Richard Bennett, the distinguished actor, must have arrested the attention of the Administration.

September 22, 1917.

Hon. Newton Baker, Secretary of War, War Department, Washington, D. C.

I have been asked to go to France personally, with the film of "Damaged Goods," as head of a lecture corps to the American army.

On reliable authority I am told that American women, because they have dared demand their political freedom, are held in vile conditions in the Government workhouse in Washington; are compelled to paint the negro toilets for eight hours a day; are denied decent food and denied communication with counsel. Why should I work for democracy in Europe when our American women are denied democracy at home? If I am to fight for social hygiene in France, why not begin at Occoquan workhouse?

RICHARD BENNETT.

Mr. Bennett never received a reply to this message.

Charming companionships grew up in prison. Ingenuity at lifting the dull monotony of imprisonment brought to light many talents for camaraderie which amused not only the suffrage prisoners but the "regulars." Locked in separate cells, as in the District Jail, the suffragists could still communicate by song. The following lively doggerel to the tune of "Captain Kidd" was sung in chorus to the accompaniment of a hair comb. It became a saga.

Each day a new verse was added, relating the day's particular controversy with the prison authorities.

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We worried Woody-wood, As we stood, as we stood, We worried Woody-wood, As we stood.

We worried Woody-wood, And we worried him right good; We worried him right good as we stood.

We asked him for the vote, As we stood, as we stood, We asked him for the vote As we stood, We asked him for the vote, But he'd rather write a note, He'd rather write a note so we stood.

We'll not get out on bail, Go to jail, go to jail- We'll not get out on bail, We prefer to go to jail, We prefer to go to jail-we're not frail.

We asked them for a brush, For our teeth, for our teeth, We asked them for a brush For our teeth.

We asked them for a brush, They said, "There ain't no rush,"

They said, "There ain't no rush-darn your teeth."

We asked them for some air, As we choked, as we choked, We asked them for some air As we choked.

We asked them for some air And they threw us in a lair, They threw us in a lair, so we choked.

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We asked them for our nightie, As we froze, as we froze, We asked them for our nightie As we froze.

We asked them for our nightie, And they looked-hightie-tightie- They looked hightie-tightie-so we froze.

Now, ladies, take the hint, As ye stand, as ye stand, Now, ladies, take the hint, As ye stand.

Now, ladies, take the hint, Don't quote the Presidint, Don't quote the Presidint, as ye stand.

Humor predominated in the poems that came out of prison. There was never any word of tragedy.

Not even an intolerable diet of raw salt pork, which by actual count of Miss Margaret Potheringham, a teacher of Domestic Science and Dietetics, was served the suffragists sixteen times in eighteen days, could break their spirit of gayety. And when a piece of fish of unknown origin was slipped through the tiny opening in the cell door, and a specimen carefully preserved for Dr. Wiley-who, by the way, was unable to cla.s.sify it-they were more diverted than outraged.

Sometimes it was a "prayer" which enlivened the evening hour before bedtime. Mary Winsor of Haverford, Pennsylvania, was the master prayer-maker. One night it was a Baptist prayer, another a Methodist, and still another a stern Presbyterian prayer. The prayers were most disconcerting to the matron for the "regulars"

became almost hysterical with laughter, when they should be slipping into sleep. It was trying also to sit in the corridor and hear your daily cruelties narrated to G.o.d and punishment asked. This is what happened to the embarra.s.sed warden and jail attendants if they came to protest.

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Sometimes it was the beautiful voice of Vida Milholland which rang through the corridors of the dreary prison, with a stirring Irish ballad, a French love song, or the Woman's Ma.r.s.eillaise.

Again the prisoners would build a song, each calling out from cell to cell, and contributing a line. The following song to the tune of "Charlie Is My Darling" was so written and sung with Miss Lucy Branham leading:

SHOUT THE REVOLUTION OF WOMEN

Shout the revolution Of women, of women, Shout the revolution For liberty.

Rise, glorious women of the earth, The voiceless and the free United strength a.s.sures the birth Of true democracy.