e called me to him. I had no immediate quarrel with
him, and so I dropped my axe and went to him. He told me that there
was no use of "making a muss" there, it incited the other prisoners to
insubordination, and was sure to bring severe punishment upon myself.
"Go and get your cap and coat," said he "and come with me."

"But if you are going to put me into that black hole of yours," I
exclaimed, "I won't go; you'll have to draw me there or kill me on the
way."

He promised he would not put me in the dungeon, he was only going to
put me in my cell, he said, and to my cell I went, willingly enough,
and stayed there a week, during which time I suppose everyone of my
shopmates thought I was in the dungeon, undergoing severe punishment for
my rebellions conduct.

I had learned now the worst lesson which a prisoner can learn--that is,
that my keepers were afraid of me. To a limited extent, it is true, I
was now my own master and keeper. In a few days Deputy Morey came to
me and asked me if I was "willing" to come out and work. I was sick
of solitary confinement, and longed to see the faces of men, even
prisoners: so I told him if I could get any work I could do I was
willing to try it, and would do as well as I knew how. He asked me if I
knew anything of locksmithing? I told him I had some taste for it, and
if he would show me his job I would let him see what I could do.

The fact is, I was a very fair amateur locksmith, and had quite
a fondness for fixing, picking, and fussing generally over locks.
Accordingly, when he gave me a lock to work upon to make it "play
easier," as he described it, I did the job so satisfactorily that I had
nearly every lock in the prison to take off and operate upon, if it was
nothing more than to clean and oil one. This business occupied my
entire time and attention for nearly three months. Then I repaired iron
bedsteads, did other iron work, and I was the general tinker of the
prison.

It came into my head, however, one day, that I might as well do nothing.
The prison fare was indescribably bad, almost as bad as the jail fare at
Easton. We lived upon the poorest possible salt beef for dinner, varied
now and then with plucks and such stuff from the slaughter houses, with
nothing but bread and rye coffee for breakfast and supper, and mush and
molasses perhaps twice a week.

I was daily abused, too, by the Warden, his Deputy, and his keepers.
They looked upon me as an ugly, insubordinate, re