pail. And how I
miss my after-breakfast cigar and the _Times_, as I put my hands
upon a fellow-convict's shoulder and march in slow procession to my
task. The work of breaking a large piece of stone into smaller bits
with a hammer is not an intellectual one; but it has got me into
tolerable training; I have lost twenty pounds already, and am, as
we used to say at the university, as 'hard as nails.' I am afraid
that my old trousers, which my tailor used to let out year by year,
would be a world too large for my shrunk shanks now. I dine at
noon, as you remember, and for the first time in my life I do not
dress for dinner; indeed, a white cravat and a dress coat would be
inappropriate, when one sits down to bean porridge and boiled beef
served in the same tin plate. But I have a good appetite after my
pulverizing of the morning, and I am not compelled to set the table
in a roar under duress. I am surprised what good things I think of
now that I am not expected to and have no one to whom to say them.
Jawkins would double my salary could he get me out. Rye coffee is a
poor substitute for Chambertin, but it does not aggravate my gout.
After dinner I return to my stone-breaking, and feel with delight
my growing biceps muscle, and after my supper, which is
monotonously like my breakfast, I tackle the tracts, which are left
with me by kindly souls. They are of a class of literature which I
have neglected since childhood, having, as you may remember, a
leaning toward 'facetiae.' In fact, since my great-aunt's withdrawal
to another world, where it may be hoped that the stones are more
brittle and the coffee better, I have seen none. I cannot say that
I have been comforted by the tracts, but I have been interested by
them, and I spend the brief hours of leisure which are vouchsafed
to me in annotating my editions. And yet, my dear Duke, unfortunate
as my situation is, I would not exchange places with my old self, a
hired jester at rich men's tables, selling myself for a dinner
which I could not digest, nor with that wretched monarch, in whose
cause we all suffered, who left his gallant gentleman to die for
his cause while he pursued his selfish pleasures. If it were chance
that I get out of here, I shall strive to earn my bread, in the
appointed way, by the sw