Until Martin was imprisoned in me, I was known as Starvation Tower. Martin, however, was a different sort of prisoner.
He had good friends, a cat and a dog. They stole biscuits for him and then they brought him a magic ring. He could do anything he wanted with that ring. He could have blown me sky high and freed himself in an instant. He could have had the king hanged.
But you know what Martin did? He used his magic ring to call for a group of musicians. They joined him in my prison cells, and played the most uplifting music you ever heard. Folks from miles around came to hear the music that poured from my windows.
Now folks don’t call me Starvation Tower. They call me Martin’s Tower, the music tower. Nobody ever starves in me.