eight or tin times; yes. Well, now, will I tell ye what I'd do afore and
iver I'd kim back here ag'in,--if I was you now? Will I tell ye?"

"Well, yes," replied the visitor, amiably; "I'd like to know."

"Well, surr, I'd go to the mair of this city and to the judge of
the criminal coort, and to the gov'ner of the Sta-ate, and to the
ligislatur, if needs be, and I'd say, 'Gintlemin, I can't go back to
that prison! There is more crimes a-being committed by the people
outside ag'in the fellies in theyre than--than--than the--the fellies in
theyre has committed ag'in the people! I'm ashamed to preach theyre! I'm
afeered to do ud!'" The speaker slipped off the table, upon his feet.
"'There's murrder a-goun' on in theyre! There's more murrder a-bein'
done in theyre nor there is outside! Justice is a-bein' murdered theyre
ivery hour of day and night!'"

He brandished his fist with the last words, but dropped it at a glance
from Ristofalo, and began to pace the floor along his side of the room,
looking with a heavy-browed smile back and forth from one fellow-captive
to the other. He waited till the visitor was about to speak, and then
interrupted, pointing at him suddenly:--

"Ye're a Prodez'n preacher! I'll bet ye fifty dollars ye have a rich
cherch! Full of leadin' cidizens!"

"You're correct."

"Well, I'd go an'--an'--an' I'd say, 'Dawn't ye nivver ax me to go into
that place ag'in a-pallaverin' about mercy, until ye gid ud chaynged
from the hell on earth it is to a house of justice, wheyre min gits the
sintences that the coorts decrees!' _I_ don't complain in here. _He_
don't complain," pointing to Ristofalo; "ye'll nivver hear a complaint
from him. But go look in that yaird!" He threw up both hands with a
grimace of disgust--"Aw!"--and ceased again, but continued his walk,
looked at his fellows, and resumed:--

"_I_ listened to yer sermon. I heerd ye talkin' about the souls of uz.
Do ye think ye kin make anny of thim min believe ye cayre for the souls
of us whin ye do nahthing for the _bodies_ that's before yer eyes
tlothed in rrags and stairved, and made to sleep on beds of brick and
stone, and to receive a hundred abuses a day that was nivver intended to
be a pairt of _anny_body's sintince--and manny of'm not tried yit, an'
nivver a-goun' to have annythin' proved ag'in 'm? How _can_ ye come
offerin' uz merrcy? For ye don't come out o' the tloister, like a poor
Cat'lic priest or Sister. Ye come rright out o' the