The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inmate Of The Dungeon, by W. C. Morrow
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Inmate Of The Dungeon
1894
Author: W. C. Morrow
Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23177]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON ***
Produced by David Widger
THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON
By W. C. Morrow
Copyright, 1894, by J. B. Lippincott & Co
After, the Board of State Prison Directors, sitting in session at the
prison, had heard and disposed of the complaints and petitions of a
number of convicts, the warden announced that all who wished to appear
had been heard. Thereupon a certain uneasy and apprehensive expression,
which all along had sat upon the faces of the directors, became visibly
deeper. The chairman--nervous, energetic, abrupt, incisive man--glanced
at a slip of paper in his hand, and said to the warden:
"Send a guard for convict No-14,208."
The warden started and become slightly pale. Somewhat confused, he
haltingly replied, "Why, he has expressed no desire to appear before
you."
"Nevertheless, you will send for him at once," responded the chairman.
The warden bowed stiffly and directed a guard to produce the convict.
Then, turning to the chairman, he said:
"I am ignorant of your purpose in summoning this man, but of course I
have no objection. I desire, however, to make a statement concerning him
before he appears."
"When we shall have called for a statement from you," boldly responded
the chairman, "you may make one."
The warden sank back into his seat. He was a tall, fine-looking man,
well-bred and intelligent, and had a kindly face. Though ordinarily
cool, courageous, and self-possessed, he was unable to conceal a strong
emotion which looked much like fear. A heavy silence fell upon the room,
disturbed only by the official stenographer, who was sharpening his
pencils. A stray beam of light from the westering sun slipped into the
room between the edge of the window-shade and the sash, and fell across
the chair reserved for the convict. The uneasy eyes of the warden
finally fell upon this beam, and there his glance rested. The chairman,
without addressing any one particularly, remarked:
"There are ways of learning what occurs in a prison without the
assistance of either the wardens or the convicts."
Just then the guard appeared with the convict, who shambled in painfully
and laboriously, as with a string he held up from the floor the heavy
iron ball which was chained to his ankles. He was about forty-five years
old. Undoubtedly he once had been a man of uncommon physical strength,
for a powerful skeleton showed underneath the sallow skin which covered
his emaciated frame. His sallowness was peculiar and ghastly-It was
partly that of disease, and partly of something worse; and it was this
something that accounted also for his shrunken muscles and manifest
feebleness.
There had been no time to prepare him for presentation to the Board. As
a consequence, his unstockinged toes showed through his gaping shoes;
the dingy suit of prison stripes which covered his gaunt frame was
frayed and tattered; his hair had not been recently cut to the prison
fashion, and, being rebellious, stood out upon his head like bristles;
and his beard, which, like his hair, was heavily dashed with gray, had
not been shaved for weeks. These incidents of his appearance combined
with a very peculiar expression of his face to make an extraordinary
picture. It is difficult to describe this almost unearthly expression.
With a certain suppressed ferocity it combined an inflexibility of
purpose that sat like an iron mask upon him. His eyes were hungry and
eager; they were the living part of him, and they shone luminous
from beneath shaggy brows. His forehead was massive, his head of fine
proportions, his jaw square and strong, and his thin, high nose showed
traces of an ancestry that must have made a mark in some corner of the
world at some time in history. He was prematurely old; this was seen
in his gray hair and in the uncommonly deep wrinkles which lined his
forehead and the corners of his eyes and of his mouth.
Upon stumbling weakly into the room, faint with the labor of walking and
of carrying the iron ball, he looked around eagerly, like a bear
driven to his haunches by the hounds. His glance passed so rapidly and
unintelligently from one face to another that he could not have had
time to form a conception of the persons present, until his swift eyes
encountered the face of the warden, Instantly they flashed; he craned
his neck forward; his lips opened and became blue; the wrinkles deepened
about his mouth and eyes; his form grew rigid, and his breathing
stopped. This sinister and terrible attitude--all the more so because
he was wholly unconscious of it--was disturbed only when the chairman
sharply commanded, "Take that seat."
The convict started as though he had been struck, and turned his eyes
upon the chairman. He drew a deep inspiration, which wheezed and rattled
as it passed into his chest. An expression of excruciating pain swept
over his face. He dropped the ball, which struck the floor with a loud
sound, and his long bony fingers tore at the striped shirt over his
breast. A groan escaped him, and he would have sunk to the floor had not
the guard caught him and held him upright. In a moment it was over, and
then, collapsing with exhaustion, he sank into the chair. There he sat,
conscious and intelligent, but slouching, disorganized, and indifferent.
The chairman turned sharply to the guard.
"Why did you manacle this man," he demanded, "when he is evidently so
weak, and when none of the others were manacled?"
"Why, sir," stammered the guard, "surely you know who this man is: he is
the most dangerous and desperate--"
"We know all about that. Remove his manacles."
The guard obeyed. The chairman turned to the convict, and in a kindly
manner said, "Do you know who we are?"
The convict got himself together a little and looked steadily at the
chairman. "No," he replied after a pause. His manner was direct, and his
voice was deep, though hoarse.
"We are the State Prison Directors. We have heard of your case, and we
want you to tell us the whole truth about it."
The convict's mind worked slowly, and it was some time before he could
comprehend the explanation and request. When he had accomplished that
task he said, very slowly, "I suppose you want me to make a complaint,
sir."
"Yes--if you have any to make."
The convict was getting himself in hand. He straightened, and gazed
at the chairman with a peculiar intensity. Then firmly and clearly he
answered, "I've no complaint to make."
The two men sat looking at each other in silence, and as they looked a
bridge of human sympathy was slowly reared between them. The chairman
rose, passed around an intervening table, went up to the convict, and
laid a hand on his gaunt shoulder. There was a tenderness in his voice
that few men had ever heard there.
"I know," said he, "that you are a patient and uncomplaining man, or we
should have heard from you long ago. In asking you to make a statement
I am merely asking for your help to right a wrong, if a wrong has
been done. Leave your own wishes entirely out of consideration, if you
prefer. Assume, if you will, that it is not our intention or desire
either to give you relief or to make your case harder for you. There
are fifteen hundred human beings in this prison, and they are under the
absolute control of one man. If a serious wrong is practiced upon one,
it may be upon others. I ask you in the name of common humanity, and
as one man of another, to put us in the way of working justice in this
prison. If you have the instincts of a man within you, you will comply
with my request. Speak out, therefore, like a man, and have no fear of
anything."
The convict was touched and stung. He looked up steadily into the
chairman's face, and firmly said, "There is nothing in this world that
I fear." Then he hung his head, and presently he raised it and added, "I
will tell you all about it."
At that moment he shifted his position so as to bring the beam of light
perpendicularly across his face and chest, and it seemed to split him
in twain. He saw it, and feasted his gaze upon it as it lay upon his
breast. After a time he thus proceeded, speaking very slowly, and in a
strangely monotonous voice:
"I was sent up for twenty years for killing a man. I hadn't been a
criminal: I killed him without thinking, for he had robbed me and
wronged me. I came here thirteen years ago. I had trouble at first--it
galled me to be a convict; but I got over that, because the warden that
was here then understood me and was kind to me, and he made me one
of the best men in the prison. I don't say this to make you think I'm
complaining about the present warden, or that he didn't treat me kindly:
I can take care of myself with him. I am not making any complaint. I ask
no man's favor, and I fear no man's power."
"That is all right. Proceed."
"After the warden had made a good man out of me I worked faithfully,
sir; I did everything they told me to do; I worked willingly and like a
slave. It did me good to work, and I worked hard. I never violated any
of the rules after I was broken in. And then the law was passed giving
credits to the men for good conduct. My term was twenty years, but I did
so well that my credits piled up, and after I had been here ten years I
could begin to see my way out. There were only about three years left.
And, sir, I worked faithfully to make those years good. I knew that if I
did anything against the rules I should lose my credits and have to stay
nearly ten years longer. I knew all about that, sir: I never forgot it.
I wanted to be a free man again, and I planned to go away somewhere and
make the fight all over--to be a man in the world once more."
"We know all about your record in the prison. Proceed."
"Well, it was this way. You know they were doing some heavy work in the
quarries and on the grades, and they wanted the strongest men in the
prison. There weren't very many: there never are very many strong men in
prison. And I was one of 'em that they put on the heavy work, and I
did it faithfully. They used to pay the men for extra work--not pay 'em
money, but the value of the money in candles, tobacco, extra clothes,
and things like that. I loved to work, and I loved to work extra, and so
did some of the other men. On Saturdays the men who had done extra work
would fall in and go up to the captain of the guard and he would give to
each man what was coming to him. He had it all down in a book, and when
a man would come up and call for what was due him the captain would give
it to him, whatever he wanted that the rules allowed.
"One Saturday I fell in with the others. A good many were ahead of me in
the line, and when they got what they wanted they fell into a new line,
waiting to be marched to the cells. When my turn in the line came I went
up to the captain and said I would take mine in tobacco. He looked at
me pretty sharply, and said, 'How did you get back in that line?' I told
him I belonged there--that I had come to get my extra. He looked at his
book, and he said, 'You've had your extra: you got tobacco.' And he told
me to fall into the new line, I told him I hadn't received any tobacco;
I said I hadn't got my extra, and hadn't been up before. He said, 'Don't
spoil your record by trying to steal a little tobacco. Fall in.'... It
hurt me, sir. I hadn't been up; I hadn't got my extra; and I wasn't a
thief, and I never had been a thief, and no living man had a right to
call me a thief. I said to him, straight, 'I won't fall in till I get my
extra, and I'm not a thief, and no man can call me one, and no man can
rob me of my just dues.' He turned pale, and said, 'Fall in, there.' I
said, 'I won't fall in till I get my dues.'
"With that he raised his hand as a signal, and the two guards behind him
covered me with their rifles, and the guard on the west wall, and one
on the north wall, and one on the portico in front of the arsenal, all
covered me with rifles. The captain turned to a trusty and told him to
call the warden. The warden came out, and the captain told him I
was trying to run double on my extra, and said I was impudent and
insubordinate and refused to fall in. The warden said, 'Drop that and
fall in.' I told him I wouldn't fall in. I said I hadn't run double,
that I hadn't got my extra, and that I would stay there till I died
before I would be robbed of it. He asked the captain if there wasn't
some mistake, and the captain looked at his book and said there was no
mistake; he said he remembered me when I came up and got the tobacco and
he saw me fall into the new line, but he didn't see me get back in the
old line. The warden didn't ask the other men if they saw me get my
tobacco and slip back into the old line. He just ordered me to fall in.
I told him I would die before I would do that. I said I wanted my just
dues and no more, and I asked him to call on the other men in line to
prove that I hadn't been up.
"He said, That's enough of this.' He sent all the other men to the
cells, and left me standing there. Then he told two guards to take me
to the cells. They came and took hold of me, and I threw them off as if
they were babies. Then more guards came up, and one of them hit me over
the head with a club, and I fell. And then, sir"--here the convict's
voice fell to a whisper--"and then he told them to take me to the
dungeon."
The sharp, steady glitter of the convict's eyes failed, and he hung his
head and looked despairingly at the floor.
"Go on," said the chairman.
"They took me to the dungeon, sir. Did you ever see the dungeon?"
"Perhaps; but you may tell us about it."
The cold, steady gleam returned to the convict's eyes, as he fixed them
again upon the chairman.
"There are several little rooms in the dungeon. The one they put me
in was about five feet by eight. It has steel walls and ceiling, and a
granite floor. The only light that comes in passes through a slit in
the door. The slit is an inch wide and five inches long. It doesn't give
much light because the door is thick. It's about four inches thick,
and is made of oak and sheet steel bolted through. The slit runs this
way"--making a horizontal motion in the air--"and it is four inches
above my eyes when I stand on tiptoe. And I can't look out at the
factory wall forty feet away unless I hook my fingers in the slit and
pull myself up."
He stopped and regarded his hands, the peculiar appearance of which we
all had observed. The ends of the fingers were uncommonly thick; they
were red and swollen, and the knuckles were curiously marked with deep
white scars.
"Well, sir, there wasn't anything at all in the dungeon, but they gave
me a blanket, and they put me on bread and water. That's all they ever
give you in the dimgeon. They bring the bread and water once a day, and
that is at night, because if they come in the daytime it lets in the
light.
"The next night after they put me in--it was Sunday night--the warden
came with the guard and asked me if I was all right. I said I was.
He said, 'Will you behave yourself and go to work to-morow?' I said,
'No, sir; I won't go to work till I get what is due me.' He shrugged his
shoulders, and said, 'Very well: maybe you'll change your mind after you
have been in here a week.'
"They kept me there a week. The next Sunday night the warden came and
said, 'Are you ready to go to work to-morrow,' and I said, 'No; I will
not go to work till I get what is due me.' He called me hard names. I
said it was a man's duty to demand his rights, and that a man who would
stand to be treated like a dog was no man at all."
The chairman interrupted. "Did you not reflect," he asked, "that these
officers would not have stooped to rob you?--that it was through some
mistake they withheld your tobacco, and that in any event you had a
choice of two things to lose--one a plug of tobacco, and the other seven
years of freedom?"
"But they angered me and hurt me, sir, by calling me a thief, and they
threw me in the dungeon like a beast.... I was standing for my rights,
and my rights were my manhood; and that is something a man can carry
sound to the grave, whether he's bond or free, weak or powerful, rich or
poor."
"Well, after you refused to go to work what did the warden do?"
The convict, although tremendous excitement must have surged and boiled
within him, slowly, deliberately, and weakly came to his feet. He placed
his right foot on the chair, and rested his right elbow on the raised
knee. The index finger of his right hand, pointing to the chairman and
moving slightly to lend emphasis to his narrative, was the only thing
that modified the rigid immobility of his figure. Without a single
change in the pitch or modulation of his voice, never hurrying, but
speaking with the slow and dreary monotony with which he had begun,
he nevertheless--partly by reason of these evidences of his incredible
self-control--made a formidable picture as he proceeded:
"When I told him that, sir, he said he'd take me to the ladder and see
if he couldn't make me change my mind.... Yes, sir; he said he'd take
me to the ladder." (Here there was a long pause.) "And I a human being,
with flesh on my bones and the heart of a man in my body. The other
warden hadn't tried to break my spirit on the ladder. He did break it,
though; he broke it clear to the bottom of the man inside of me; but
he did it with a human word, and not with the dungeon and the ladder. I
didn't believe the warden when he said he would take me to the ladder.
I couldn't imagine myself alive and put through at the ladder, and I
couldn't imagine any human being who could find the heart to put me
through. If I had believed him I would have strangled him then and
there, and got my body full of lead while doing it. No, sir; I could not
believe it.
"And then he told me to come on. I went with him and the guards. He
brought me to the ladder. I had never seen it before. It was a heavy
wooden ladder, leaned against the wall, and the bottom was bolted to the
floor and the top to the wall. A whip was on the floor." (Again there
was a pause.) "The warden told me to strip, sir, and I stripped.... And
still I didn't believe he would whip me. I thought he just wanted to
scare me.
"Then he told me to face up to the ladder. I did so, and reached my arms
up to the straps. They strapped my arms to the ladder, and stretched so
hard that they pulled me up clear of the floor. Then they strapped my
legs to the ladder. The warden then picked up the whip. He said to me,
'I'll give you one more chance: will you go to work to-morrow?' I said,
'No; I won't go to work till I get my dues.' 'Very well,' said he,
'you'll get your dues now.' And then he stepped back and raised the
whip. I turned my head and looked at him, and I could see it in his
eyes that he meant to strike.... And when I saw that, sir, I felt that
something inside of me was about to burst.'"
The convict paused to gather up his strength for the crisis of his
story, yet not in the least particular did he change his position, the
slight movement of his pointing finger, the steady gleam of his eye,
or the slow monotony of his speech. I had never witnessed any scene so
dramatic as this, and yet all was absolutely simple and unintentional.
I had been thrilled by the greatest actors, as with matchless skill they
gave rein to their genius in tragic situations; but how inconceivably
tawdry and cheap such pictures seemed in comparison with this! The
claptrap of the music, the lights, the posing, the wry faces, the gasps,
lunges, staggerings, rolling eyes--how flimsy and colorless, how mocking
and grotesque, they all appeared beside this simple, uncouth, but
genuine expression of immeasurable agony!
The stenographer held his pencil poised above the paper, and wrote no
more.
"And then the whip came down across my back. The something inside of me
twisted hard and then broke wide open, and went pouring all through me
like melted iron. It was a hard fight to keep my head clear, but I did
it. And then I said to the warden this: 'You've struck me with a whip
in cold blood. You' ve tied me up hand and foot, to whip me like a dog.
Well, whip me, then, till you fill your belly with it. You are a coward.
You are lower, and meaner, and cowardlier than the lowest and meanest
dog that ever yelped when his master kicked him. You were born a coward.
Cowards will lie and steal, and you are the same as a thief and liar.
No hound would own you for a friend. Whip me hard and long, you coward.
Whip me, I say. See how good a coward feels when he ties up a man and
whips him like a dog. Whip me till the last breath quits my body: if you
leave me alive I will kill you for this.'
"His face got white. He asked me if I meant that, and I said, 'Yes;
before God, I do.' Then he took the whip in both hands and came down
with all his might."
"That was nearly two years ago," said the chairman. "You would not kill
him now, would you?"
"Yes. I will kill him if I get a chance; and I feel it in me that the
chance will come."
"Well, proceed."
"He kept on whipping me. He whipped me with all the strength of both
hands. I could feel the broken skin curl upon my back, and when my head
got too heavy to hold it straight it hung down, and I saw the blood
on my legs and dripping off my toes into a pool of it on the floor.
Something was straining and twisting inside of me again. My back didn't
hurt much; it was the thing twisting inside of me that hurt. I counted
the lashes, and when I counted to twenty-eight the twisting got so hard
that it choked me and blinded me;... and when I woke up I was in the
dungeon again, and the doctor had my back all plastered up, and he was
kneeling beside me, feeling my pulse."
The prisoner had finished. He looked around vaguely, as though he wanted
to go.
"And you have been in the dungeon ever since?"
"Yes, sir; but I don't mind that."
"How long?"
"Twenty-three months."
"On bread and water?"
"Yes; but that was all I wanted."
"Have you reflected that so long as you harbor a determination to kill
the warden you may be kept in the dungeon? You can't live much longer
there, and if you die there you will never find the chance you want. If
you say you will not kill the warden he may return you to the cells."
"But that would be a lie, sir; I will get a chance to kill him if I
go to the cells. I would rather die in the dungeon than be a liar and
sneak. If you send me to the cells I will kill him. But I will kill him
without that. I will kill him, sir.... And he knows it."
Without concealment, but open, deliberate, and implacable, thus in the
wrecked frame of a man, so close that we could have touched it, stood
Murder--not boastful, but relentless as death.
"Apart from weakness, is your health good?" asked the chairman.
"Oh, it's good enough," wearily answered the convict. "Sometimes the
twisting comes on, but when I wake up after it I'm all right."
The prison surgeon, under the chairman's direction, put his ear to the
convict's chest, and then went over and whispered to the chairman.
"I thought so," said that gentleman. "Now, take this man to the
hospital. Put him to bed where the sun will shine on him, and give him
the most nourishing food."
The convict, giving no heed to this, shambled out with a guard and the
surgeon.
*****
The warden sat alone in the prison office with No. 14,208. That he at
last should have been brought face to face, and alone, with the man whom
he had determined to kill, perplexed the convict. He was not manacled;
the door was locked, and the key lay on the table between the two men.
Three weeks in the hospital had proved beneficial, but a deathly pallor
was still in his face.
"The action of the directors three weeks ago," said the warden, "make my
resignation necessary. I have awaited the appointment of my successor,
who is now in charge. I leave the prison to-day. In the meantime, I have
something to tell you that will interest you. A few days ago a man
who was discharged from the prison last year read what the papers have
published recently about your case, and he has written to me confessing
that it was he who got your tobacco from the captain of the guard. His
name is Salter, and he looks very much like you. He had got his own
extra, and when he came up again and called for yours the captain,
thinking it was you, gave it to him. There was no intention on the
captain's part to rob you."
The convict gasped and leaned forward eagerly.
"Until the receipt of this letter," resumed the warden, "I had opposed
the movement which had been started for your pardon; but when this
letter came I recommended your pardon, and it has been granted. Besides,
you have a serious heart trouble. So you are now discharged from the
prison."
The convict stared, and leaned back speechless. His eyes shone with
a strange, glassy expression, and his white teeth glistened ominously
between his parted lips. Yet a certain painful softness tempered the
iron in his face.
"The stage will leave for the station in four hours," continued the
warden. "You have made certain threats against my life." The warden
paused; then, in a voice that slightly wavered from emotion, he
continued: "I shall not permit your intentions in that regard--for I
care nothing about them--to prevent me from discharging a duty which,
as from one man to another, I owe you. I have treated you with a cruelty
the enormity of which I now comprehend. I thought I was right. My
fatal mistake was in not understanding your nature. I misconstrued
your conduct from the beginning, and in doing so I have laid upon my
conscience a burden which will imbitter the remaining years of my life.
I would do anything in my power, if it were not too late, to atone for
the wrong I have done you. If before I sent you to the dungeon, I
could have understood the wrong and foreseen its consequences, I would
cheerfully have taken my own life rather than raise a hand against you.
The lives of us both have been wrecked; but your suffering is in the
past--mine is present, and will cease only with my life. For my life is
a curse, and I prefer not to keep it."
With that the warden, very pale, but with a clear purpose in his face,
took a loaded revolver from a drawer and laid it before the convict.
"Now is your chance," he said, quietly: "no one can hinder you."
The convict gasped and shrank away from the weapon as from a viper.
"Not yet--not yet," he whispered, in agony.
The two men sat and regarded each other without the movement of a
muscle.
"Are you afraid to do it?" asked the warden.
A momentary light flashed in the convict's eyes.
"No!" he gasped; "you know I am not. But I can't--not yet--not yet."
The convict, whose ghastly pallor, glassy eyes, and gleaming teeth sat
like a mask of death upon his face, staggered to his feet.
"You have done it at last! you have broken my spirit. A human word has
done what the dungeon and the whip could not do.... It twists inside of
me now.... I could be your slave for that human word." Tears streamed
from his eyes. "I can't help crying. I'm only a baby, after all--and I
thought I was a man."
He reeled, and the warden caught him and seated him in the chair. He
took the convict's hand in his and felt a firm, true pressure there. The
convict's eyes rolled vacantly. A spasm of pain caused him to raise his
free hand to his chest; his thin, gnarled fingers--made shapeless by
long use in the slit of the dungeon door--clutched automatically at
his shirt. A faint, hard smile wrinkled his wan face, displaying the
gleaming teeth more freely.
"That human word," he whispered--"if you had spoken it long ago, if--but
it's all--it's all right--now. I'll go--I'll go to work--to-morrow."
There was a slightly firmer pressure of the hand that held the warden's;
then it relaxed. The fingers which clutched the shirt slipped away, and
the hand dropped to his side. The weary head sank back and rested on
the chair; the strange, hard smile still sat upon the marble face, and
a dead man's glassy eyes and gleaming teeth were upturned toward the
ceiling.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Inmate Of The Dungeon, by W. C. Morrow
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON ***
***** This file should be named 23177.txt or 23177.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23177/
Produced by David Widger
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg.org/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
[email protected]. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at http://pglaf.org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.org
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
http://www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
