Hellraisers Journal: Prosecutor in Tracy Trial Gives Dramatic Reading of “Sabo-Tabby Kitten,” Complete with “MEOW! MEOW!”

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O, the rats all hate and fear me.
MEOW! MEOW!
The softest paw can be a claw;
They seldom venture near me,
Hurrah, they saw your Sabo-Tabby Kitten!
-Ralph Chaplin

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Hellraisers Journal, Friday March 23, 1917
Seattle Tracy Trial – Dramatic Reading Provided by Prosecutor

Sabo-Tabby Kitten by Ralph Chaplin

In an article in Thursday’s edition of the The Northwest Worker, Katherine H. Hodgins provides further details on the reading of I. W. W. literature into the trial record and a closer look at the testimony of Mayor Merrill of Everett.

It seems that Prosecutor Cooley thought the courtroom a stage when he recited the lyrics to Ralph Chaplin’s song about a Sabo-Tabby Kitten:

Friday morning was enacted a scene that was worth any person’s time and money to have seen and heard, when Mr. Cooley read from the I. W. W. song-book. Imagine, if you can, a white-haired man, rather sever in countenance, reading with the utmost gravity to a solemn-faced jury, the songs “Casey Jones,” “Tabby Kitten,” etc. Mr. Cooley read them in an interesting and expressive manner which added color to the unique performance. Especially was this true when he “meowed” at the end of each chorus of one of the songs, exclaiming “sabotage” in the most fearful and dramatic manner of which he was capable.

On a more serious note, Mayor Merrill was confronted by the young I. W. W. member whose fingers the Mayor had crushed:

The most dramatic incident of the trial so far, was the introduction of Louis Skaroff, an unusually interesting, bright-faced Jewish lad, who had been arrested and detained at the city jail in Everett after having been arrested on the afternoon of Nov. 5th while speaking on the street. It has been alleged that this lad had been maltreated by officials at the city jail late one night, and that at the termination of a series of kickings and beatings, during which he sustained bruises about the head and body inflicted by the mayor, assisted by another official, his fingers were placed under the foot of an iron bed by the mayor, while he, with the other worthy, jumped upon the middle of the bed, thus crushing and bruising the poor lad’s hand. When confronted by Skaroff, Merrill denied having ever seen him. Again he refreshed his memory and admitted that he had seen him, but denied any connection with atrocity.

From The Northwest Worker of March 22, 1917:

MAYOR MERRILL OF EVERETT GETS
GRUELLING AT TRIAL
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PROSECUTION FAILS IN ATTEMPT TO INTRODUCE ONLY
ONE SIDE OF THE WORKERS CASE TO JURY.
CLASS WAR IN THE LIME LIGHT
—–

(By Katherine H. Hodgins)

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Hellraisers Journal: Class War Prisoner, Patrick Quinlan, Exposes Horrors of New Jersey’s Modern-Day Bastile

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There are no limits to which
powers of privilege will not go
to keep the workers in slavery.
-Mother Jones
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Hellraisers Journal, Wednesday December 27, 1916
From the Appeal to Reason: Newly Released, Quinlan Describes Prison Life

Unspeakable Horrors of New Jersey’s
Bastile Exposed by Quinlan
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“Political Prisoner”, Recently Liberated After Serving Unjust Sentence, Tells Appeal Readers of Atrocities Practiced on Helpless Victims of Social System-Quinlan’s Remarkable Training as Labor Agitator Combined With His Terrible Experience in Penitentiary Brings Forth This Unprecedented Story of “Crimes Against Criminals.”

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BY PATRICK L. QUINLAN

Paterson Silk Strike, Pat Quinlan, Current of 1913

My experience in New Jersey’s penitentiary compels me to say that I am not prepared to accept in full the statement so often made that our public institutions reflect the spirit, the mind of the people. If it were entirely true that institutions were the mirror of a people, then the state of New Jersey and its two and a half million inhabitants would occupy the largest place in Dante’s Inferno of lost souls. One would be compelled to conclude that the people of New Jersey were fiendish in their cruelty, diabolical in their oppression, medieval in their conception of their duties toward the inmates of their state prison, located within the shadow of their capitol at Trenton. But they are not, I am sure, more cruel, not more oppressive, nor more medieval than the people of other states; they are, only, perhaps, more indifferent and, I hope they will pardon me, more ignorant. Their social soul, their public conscience, is not formed to harmonize with the spirit of the times, nor is it developed to work sympathetically with its progressive sister states.

If New Jersey’s penitentiary reflected the people of the state, then we would be prepared to disagree with Edmund Burke’s famous dictum that one cannot indict a whole people, and proceed to charge the two and a half million people of the state of New Jersey with murder, robbery and graft.

Pictures the Bastile.

With this brief apology for the citizens of New Jersey, I will, in the following lines, give the readers of this paper an unexaggerated picture of New Jersey’s bastile, with the hope that the same good results will be accomplished for its unfortunate inmates as were done for the victims of Fort Leavenworth federal prison.

Men who had been in every big prison in the United States told me in language that was emphatic as well as picturesque, that Trenton’s “Big House” was the worst prison in the country, and the study of prison reports and the literature of penology convince me that the convicts told the truth. Personally, I cannot imagine anything worse except the contract prison camps of the south and the Siberian dungeons, where the victims of the Russian autocracy are buried alive.

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