to make place for another.

Sometimes the dulness of my incarceration was relieved by overhearing
whispered conversations outside my cell door. Until we became well
known, there was considerable speculation among the prisoners as to
who we were, and what we were there for. One day a couple of fellows,
engaged in cleaning the corridor, worked themselves near together, one
standing on either side of my door. "Who's the bloke in yer?" I heard
queried. "Dunno," said the other, "I b'lieve he's a Fenian." Another
time I heard the answer, "Oh, he's one of Bradlaugh's pals; and
Bradlaugh's coming up next week"--a next week which happily never
arrived.

Mr. Ramsey tells me that similar speculations went on outside his door.
Like mine, his card specified "misdr." (misdemeanor) as the offence, the
officials perhaps not liking to write blasphemy. Like me also, he
was put down as a Fenian. "Why there," said a prisoner, who had just
enounced this opinion, "look at his card; see--murder!" The "misdr."
was not written too plainly, and "murder" was his interpretation of the
hieroglyph.

Let me here interpolate another good story in connexion with Mr. Ramsey.
He was confidently asked by an old hand what he was in for. "Blasphemy,"
said Mr. Ramsey. "Blasphemy! What the hell's that?" said the fellow.
Here was a confirmed criminal who had never heard of this crime before;
it was not in the catalogue known to his fraternity; and on learning
that all which could be got from it was nine months' imprisonment if you
were found out, and nothing if you were not, he concluded that he would
never patronize that line of business.

From the description already given of my cell, the reader has seen that
my domestic accommodations were exceedingly limited. All my ablutions
were performed with the aid of a tin bowl, holding about a quart. This
sufficed for hands and face, but how was I to get a wash all over? I
broached this question one day to warder Smith, who informed me that
the bathing appliances of the establishment were scanty, and that the
prisoners were only "tubbed" once a fortnight. I explained to him that I
was not used to such uncleanliness; but of course he could not help me.
Then I laid the matter before the Deputy-Governor, who told an officer
to take me to the bath-room at the base of the debtor's wing, where I
enjoyed a good scrub. On returning to the criminal part of the prison I
had my hair cut, a prisoner officiating as barber.