ge
street and of the bay. A prisoner of a philosophic turn of mind, who
had committed some crime of sufficient magnitude to make him willing to
retire from the world for a season and rest, might enjoy himself here
very well.

The jailer exhibited his premises with an air of modesty. In the rear
was a small yard, surrounded by a board fence, in which the prisoner
took his exercise. An active boy could climb over it, and an
enterprising pig could go through it almost anywhere. The keeper said
that he intended at the next court to ask the commissioners to build
the fence higher and stop up the holes. Otherwise the jail was in good
condition. Its inmates were few; in fact, it was rather apt to be empty:
its occupants were usually prisoners for debt, or for some trifling
breach of the peace, committed under the influence of the liquor that
makes one "unco happy." Whether or not the people of the region have
a high moral standard, crime is almost unknown; the jail itself is an
evidence of primeval simplicity. The great incident in the old jailer's
life had been the rescue of a well-known citizen who was confined on a
charge of misuse of public money. The keeper showed me a place in the
outer wall of the front cell, where an attempt had been made to batter
a hole through. The Highland clan and kinsfolk of the alleged defaulter
came one night and threatened to knock the jail in pieces if he was not
given up. They bruised the wall, broke the windows, and finally smashed
in the door and took their man away. The jailer was greatly excited at
this rudeness, and went almost immediately and purchased a pistol. He
said that for a time he did n't feel safe in the jail without it. The
mob had thrown stones at the upper windows, in order to awaken him, and
had insulted him with cursing and offensive language.

Having finished inspecting the building, I was unfortunately moved by I
know not what national pride and knowledge of institutions superior to
this at home, to say,

"This is a pleasant jail, but it doesn't look much like our great
prisons; we have as many as a thousand to twelve hundred men in some of
our institutions."

"Ay, ay, I have heard tell," said the jailer, shaking his head in pity,
"it's an awfu' place, an awfu' place,--the United States. I suppose it's
the wickedest country that ever was in the world. I don't know,--I don't
know what is to become of it. It's worse than Sodom. There was that
dreadful war on the Sout