educators in the state under Methodist domination and boasts among its alumnae many of the most brilliant of the daughters of Texas. And it was a sad day for many of us in Waco, who had been trained within its walls, when "old baldly," as the building was dubbed on account of the peculiarity of its belfry, was torn down and the college was moved to a handsomer building in North Waco. That vicinity is now "College Heights" and the building occupied by the Texas Christian University until it was destroyed by fire in 1910. And since 187-8 there is no "Female College." To use a phrase that does net belong to the period referred to, "We have arrived."
The first brick court house was built in the midst of the public square (site of the present city hall) amidst a grove of magnificent trees. This, the Masonic Lodge, corner Third street and square; the Methodist church, corner Third and Franklin streets, and the old Baptist church (burned in 1877), corner Fourth and Mary streets, constituted all the brick buildings in Waco in 1859. At this time the county jail, situated on the north corner of Third street and Franklin street, was built of hewn logs about twenty feet long and eight inches square, composed of two rooms, ten feet high each and one above the other with no opening whatever from the outside to the lower room — only a few square holes, barred wtih{{{1}}} iron, for ventilation. The upper room was reached by outside stairway ending in a small platform — a trap door from the upper room was the only entrance to the lower. This was considered a very safe jail, and the only instance where a prisoner ever escaped goes to show that a Waco woman, when she sets her head, overcomes all obstacles. (Murderers and the more dangerous class cf criminals were confined in the lower room). On one occasion a man indicted for murder was a prisoner and his daughter was allowed to visit him. One day after the daughter had paid a visit the jailer noted that the prisoner was very quiet and seemed to spend most of the day on his rude bed. He went down that night to see if he was sick, but it was the daughter's trick, and the jailor's time to be sick — his prisoner had escaped in frock and sunbonnet and was never heard of again.
About 1870 the citizens had a great argument about the trees in the square and it is a blot that I blush to reveal, but they thought it did not look cityfied and wanted to cut them all down, but the protest was maintained. So one night they all fell beneath the ax; though who the perpetrators were was suspected. Alas, there was no "Woman's Club" to get out an injunction to restrain the vandal hands. For many years it was a burning plain, but now our city fathers are making efforts to redeem it, and have the "hackberries" watered regularly, but alas! for the oaks — not even centuries can restore them. The next court house was built on the corner of Second and Franklin streets in 1876 at a cost of probably fifty thousand dollars. It was abandoned some years ago, but as it is now occupied by a laundry, the "washing of soiled linen" still goes on within its walls. Only it is done by laundresses instead of lawyers. When this court house was built the population of McLennan county was 10,000 — it is now more than 80,000. The last court house was finished in 1903 at a cost of $250,000, and great care was taken to preserve the beautiful oak trees that grew upon the lots; and
