ig pan containing a curious clotted mixture, which
resembled bill-stickers' paste. Behind the utensil I saw part of an
officer's uniform. This worthy stirred the mixture with a ladle, while
he jocosely inquired, "D'ye want any of this?" I did not. "Come," he
continued, "put out your tin and I'll give you some." I told him my
appetite was not robust enough for his hospitality, and he passed on,
probably feeling sure I should not eat the prison fare, and thinking the
stuff too good to be wasted. I took the little brown loaf he offered
me and examined it closely. It was very hard, and apparently very dry.
Depositing it on the shelf, I breakfasted on cold water and the slice of
bread-and-butter left over night.

After this sumptuous repast I was let out for exercise. This time the
three "condemned" blasphemers were not taken to a separate court. We
paraded the common yard with the other prisoners. They were few in
number, but they showed many varieties of disposition. One hung his
head, and doggedly tramped round the wretched enclosure; another walked
erect and stiff, with an air of defiance; another shuffled along with a
vacant stare, as though dazed by his fate; another looked as indifferent
as though he were walking along the street; and another leered at his
companions in misfortune, as though the whole thing were an elaborate
joke. For a few minutes I trotted behind Mr. Ramsey, with whom I
exchanged a few cheerful words, but the vigilant officers soon separated
us. "How long have ye got?" was the constant question of the man at my
rear, until the officers detected, and removed him. I was surprised
and annoyed at this easy familiarity, but I grew accustomed to it
afterwards. The rules of civilised society naturally lapse in prison.
Talking is strictly prohibited, "pals" are rigorously kept apart, nobody
knows who will be next him in the exercise ring, and any man who wants
to wag his tongue must strike up a conversation with his immediate
neighbor. "How long are ye doing?" is almost invariably the
introduction. This muttered question brings a muttered answer.
Confidences are exchanged, and the conversation grows animated, until at
last the speakers forget prudence, and betray themselves to the eyes or
ears of an officer, who immediately parts them, or makes them both fall
out, and reports them to the Governor for violating the rules. The old
stagers acquire a knack of talking without moving their lips, so that
the words