●e did not realize that it was his deat▓h sentence.The tenacity of the man in clingi●ng to life was amazing; it exemplified anew ▓the remarkable vitality of his race.
He was● always disobeying the doctor's orders.He trie●d to get up from his bed one afte▓rnoon, but he fell, and the bed▓ pan, with all its contents, emptied over him an●d all over the floor.I ran to assist him, ●but—I was never well in pri●son—the stench was so overpowering that ▓I became sick and hesitated for a moment, a●nd had to turn away.Two convicts ▓who had joined me saw my sickly face and smiling▓ly said: Never mind,
boss; you go to the▓ window to get some fresh air.We'll cle▓an up the mess for you. Everyb▓ody wondered how the poor man had managed to● keep a flicker of life in a body which was mere● bone and skin. [Pg 137] ▓ One night in my sleep I imagined that● I had heard him call.As I ▓sat up in my cot I heard his rattling, hoars●e whisper calling the night o▓rderly: Oh, Mr——, please give me some wa▓ter! A glass of water! I am dyi●ng! The o
rderly, who had bee▓n sleeping with his feet on the desk, woke up,▓ looked towards the patient,▓ changed the position of his feet, and sh●outed: Ah, shut up, you kike! I ▓got up and brought him a glass of water.He● thanked me, anGeorge - e between file
d whispered: I am dying! I do▓n't want to die in jail! I t▓ried to cheer him up with the▓ thought that he would be release▓d in two weeks; but he shook his head●.Terror was written on hisAdrian - t mignon with