Bøger af Donald Lowrie

I was broke. I had not eaten for three days. I had walked the streets for three nights. Every fiber of my being, every precept of my home training protested against and would not permit my begging. I saw persons all about me spending money for trifles, or luxuries. I envied the ragged street urchin as he took a nickel in exchange for a newspaper and ran expectantly to the next pedestrian. But I was broke and utterly miserable. Have you ever been broke?

"August First, Nineteen Hundred and Eleven!" To you that probably conveys nothing; to me it is a never-to-be-forgotten day, the marking of an epoch in my life-a life up to that time brimful of tragic experience and vivid impressions. Since that time my life has been equally vivid, if not tragic, though in a different way. It was on that date, after spending ten years behind stultifying steel bars and stolid stone walls, ten years in stripes and in the midst of degradation, that I was parole from San Quentin prison.