He sits alone in his cell,

with nothing but his thoughts to dwell.

He thinks about his life before,

and how he ended up behind these doors.

He knows he's done wrong,

and must face the consequences all along.

But he can't help but wonder,

if his life will be forever under.

He dreams of a life outside,

where he can walk with dignity and pride.

But he knows that's not his fate,

and must accept the life he's made.

He spends his days in silence,

and his nights in darkness and violence.

But he holds onto the hope,

that one day he'll be able to cope.

So he waits for the day,

when he'll be able to make his way,

back to the world outside,

and leave his life sentence behind.

One Evening at a Converted Rink known as the Grand Opera House, a flock of intrepid Amateurs put on War Drams. Ule, principal Child of the Egg and Poultry King, played a Daughter of the Southland, with her Hair shaken out and Lamp Black on her Eye-Winkers, to look like Maxine, All of her Relations and the other Members of the Pocahontas Bridge Whist and Pleasure Club were in Front, and they gave her a Hand every time she stepped out from behind a Tree She scored what is known in the Ibsen cult as a Knock-Out. At 11 P. M., she was up on a lonesome Eminence, right between Sara Bernhardt and Julia Marlowe, waiting for a Telegram from C. F. to come on and tackle any Role that was too heavy for Maude Adams. The proud Parents awoke next Morning to discover that Lady Macbeth was boarding with them When she moved from one Room to another, the Portieres had to be spread the entire length of the Pole, so as to make Room for her Head, A local Haberdasher, who had been plotting to surround her with a new Bungalow and a lot of Mission Furniture, went to call as per Usual and found her away Up Stage, trying to look like Margaret Anglin in the Big Scene She was too busy to Hold Hands, for she was mapping out a Career which terminated with an Electric Sign on Broadway and the Street jammed with up-town Limousines. So the Gents Furnisher moved down the Street to a Brick House, the unmarried Inmates of which would begin burning Greek Fire and sending

Lila had the Bacillus Theatricus gnawing in every part of her System She could see the magnificent Play House crowded from Pit to Dome, just as the Producing Manager sees it every August when the Pipe is drawing freely.

She could hear the Leading Man in the Dress Suit say, as he pointed up the Marble Stairway, "Ah, here comes the Countess Zika now. And then She would enter trippingly, wearing $900 worth of spangled Raiment, whereupon the Vast Audience would stand up and Cheer. Whilst enjoying this Trance she wore a Yellow Kimono and had her Meals

sent to the Room. Father saw that she was Hooked, so he loaded her into a Parlor Car and took her up to a School of Dramatic Art to have her searched for Talent. The Head Crimp of this refined Shake-Down watched her do the Scene in which Ophelia goes Dotty and picks the imaginary Dandelions, and when

it was all over and Shakespeare had been reduced to a Pulo, he slapped old Ready Money on the Back and told him his Daughter was a Phenom She had the Dramatic Instinct and the fire of Genius and that indefinable Something which enables Eva Tanguay to earn more than the President of the United States. With a couple of hundred Lessons in Correct Breathing, and the Vocal Cords loosened up with a Glove-Stretcher, and a row of Scallops put on the Technique, Mary Anderson would be right back in our midst. So Lila got ready to fl the Vacancy caused by the Retirement of Elien Terry, while Papa went back to the little Office in one corner of the Ware- House and began to sign Checks.

It took many an Egg to have Lila properly Conservatoried

At last she came home with a Diploma showing that she was an Actress.

After that, she merely needed a Play and a Company and a lot of Scenery and a Manager and a Theater and the soft old Public buying of the Scalpers, in order to realize her modest Ambition to become a Real Star.

She took her Diploma and the Local Press Notices up to New York to see what she could get on them, and found 10,000 other incipient Modjedskas hitting the worn Trail that led from one Agency to another. Artistic Temperaments were more Abundant than Lamp Posts, and getting

an Audience with a Big Gun was just as easy as Opening a Time-Lock with a Hat Pin. She had an offer at the Hippodrome to walk in front of an Elephant, waving a prop Palm, but she spurned it, because she was ready to do Desdemona at a Moment's Notice.

As for the Laudatory Article written by a would-be Willie Winter of the wild and wooly West, she couldn't find any one in the neighborhood of 42nd Street who had even heard of the Tank Town in which her Folks were so Prominent.

In order to get Experience, she signed up with a No. 4 Company, playing the Part of the deaf-and-dumb lady who crosses the Stage and removes the Tea Things early in the Second Act.

When the Troupe went on the Rocks at Mauch Chunk, Penna., the erstwhile Favorite of the Pocahontas Club found herself seated on a Trunk marked "Theater" standing off a Deputy Sheriff and waiting for an Answer to her Wire.

The First Old Woman, who remembered Edwin Booth, came and sat beside her.

"Do not be discouraged, Honey," said She. "Go right back and start all over, and possibly sometime Next Year you will again have the blessed Privilege of going up a neglected Alley twice a Day and changing your Clothes in a Barn. Any Girl with your Looks and Family Connections can curl up in a Four-Poster at night and then saunter to the Bath over a soft Rag in the Morning, but only a throbbing Genius can make these Night Jumps in a Day Coach and stop at a Hotel which is operated as an Auxiliary to a first-class Saloon. It will be Hard Sledding for the first 15 or 20 Years, but, by the time you are 45, you may reasonably count on getting 20 Weeks out of every 52, running around in front of a Kinetoscope." Lila pulled into the Scene of her Early Triumphs with a mere suggestion of No. 2 Grease Paint still lingering behind the Ears. As the Train rolled through the Yards, the Foreman of the Section Gang narrowly escaped being hit in the Head with a tin Make-Up Box hurted from the rear of the Observation Car. Next day she had a strip of Red Carpet spread for the Haberdasher and was learning to Cook in Paper Bags Whenever she hears of a Good Show coming to Town she invites all of her Friends to come out to the Bungalow and Play Rhum on the Mission Furniture MORAL: The True Friend of Humanity is one who goes to the Home Talent Benefit for Something and Hisses all Evening.

It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond the river Skai, no man may kill

a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitteth purring before the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which men cannot see. He is the soul of antique Aegyptus, and bearer of tales from forgotten cities in Meroe and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungles lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

In Ulthar, before ever the burgesses forbade the killing of cats, there dwelt an old cotter and his wife who delighted to trap and slay the cats of their neighbors. Why they did this I know not; save that many hate the voice of the cat in the night, and take it ill that cats should run stealthily about yards and gardens at twilight. But whatever the reason, this old man and woman took pleasure in trapping and slaying every cat which came near to their hovel; and from some of the sounds heard after dark, many villagers fancied that the manner of slaying was exceedingly. peculiar, But the villagers did not discuss such things with the old man and his wife; because of the habitual expression on the withered faces of the two, and because their cottage was so small and so darkly hidden under spreading oaks at the back of a neglected yard. In truth, much as the owners of cats hated these odd folk, they feared them more; and

instead of berating them as brutal assassins, merely took care that no

cherished pet or mouser should stray toward the remote hovel under the

dark trees. When through some unavoidable oversight a cat was missed,

and sounds heard after dark, the loser would lament impotently; or

console himself by thanking Fate that it was not one of his children who

had thus vanished. For the people of Ulthar were simple, and knew not

whence it is all cats first came.

One day a caravan of strange wanderers from the South entered the narrow cobbled streets of Ulthar. Dark wanderers they were, and unlike the other roving folk who passed through the village twice every year. In the market-place they told fortunes for silver, and bought gay beads from the merchants. What was the land of these wanderers none could tell; but It was seen that they were given to strange prayers, and that they hadpainted on the sides of their wagons strange figures with human bodies and the heads of cats, hawks, rams and lions. And the leader of the caravan wore a headdress with two horns and a curious disk betwixt the horns.

There was in this singular caravan a little boy with no father or mother, but only a tiny black kitten to cherish. The plague had not been kind to him, yet had left him this small furry thing to mitigate his sorrow; and when one is very young, one can find great relief in the lively antics of a black kitten. So the boy whom the dark people called Menes smiled more often than he wept as he sat playing with his graceful kitten on the steps

of an oddly painted wagon.

On the third morning of the wanderers stay in Ulthar, Menes could not find his kitten; and as he sobbed aloud in the market-place certain villagers told him of the old man and his wife, and of sounds heard in the night. And when he heard these things his sobbing gave place to meditation, and finally to prayer. He stretched out his arms toward the sun and prayed in a tongue no villager could understand; though indeed the villagers did not try very hard to understand, since their attention was mostly taken up by the sky and the odd shapes the clouds were assuming. It was very peculiar, but as the little boy uttered his petition there seemed to form overhead the shadowy, nebulous figures of exotic things; of hybrid creatures crowned with horn-flanked disks. Nature is full of such illusions to impress the imaginative.

That night the wanderers left Ulthar, and were never seen again. And the

householders were troubled when they noticed that in all the village there was not a cat to be found. From each hearth the familar cat had vanished; cats large and small, black, grey, striped, yellow and white. Old Kranon, the burgomaster, swore that the dark folk had taken the cats away in revenge for the killing of Menes kitten; and cursed the caravan and the little boy. But Nith, the lean notary, declared that the old cotter and his wife were more likely persons to suspect; for their hatred of cats was notorious and increasingly bold. Still, no one durst complain to the sinister couple; even when little Atal, the innkeepers son, vowed that he had at twilight seen all the cats of Uithar in that accursed yard under the trees, pacing very slowly and solemnly in a circle around the cottage, two abreast, as if in performance of some unheard-of rite of beasts. The villagers did not know how much to believe from so small a boy; and though they feared that the evil pair had charmed the cats to their death,they preferred not to hide the old cotter till they met him outside his dark and repellent yard.

So Ulthar went to sleep in vain anger; and when the people awakened at dawnbehold! every cat was back at his accustomed hearth! Large and small, black, grey, striped, yellow and white, none was missing. Very sleek and fat did the cats appear, and sonorous with purring content. The otizens talked with one another of the affair, and marveled not a little. Old Kranon again insisted that it was the dark folk who had taken them, since cats did not return alive from the cottage of the ancient man and his wife. But all agreed on one thing: that the refusal of all the cats to eat their portions of meat or drink their saucers of milk was exceedingly curious. And for two whole days the sleek, lazy cats of Ulthar would touch

no food, but only doze by the fire or in the sun.

It was fully a week before the villagers noticed that no lights were

appearing at dusk in the windows of the cottage under the trees. Then the lean Nith remarked that no one had seen the old man or his wife since the night the cats were away. In another week the burgomaster decided to overcome his fears and call at the strangely silent dwelling as a matter of duty, though in so doing he was careful to take with him Shang the blacksmith and Thul the cutter of stone as witnesses. And when they had broken down the frail door they found only this: two cleanly picked human skeletons on the earthen floor, and a number of singular beetles

crawling in the shadowy corners.

There was subsequently much talk among the burgesses of Uithar. Zath,

the coroner, disputed at length with Nith, the lean notary; and Kranon and Shang and Thul were overwhelmed with questions. Even little Atal, the innkeepers son, was closely questioned and given a sweetmeat as reward. They talked of the old cotter and his wife, of the caravan of dark wanderers, of small Menes and his black kitten, of the prayer of Menes and of the sky during that prayer, of the doings of the cats on the night the caravan left, and of what was later found in the cottage under the

dark trees in the repellent yard. And in the end the burgesses passed that remarkable law which is told of by traders in Hatheg and discussed by travelers in Nir; namely, that in Uithar no man may kill a cat.