expects to rejoin
his wife and children. His joy is pathetic when one reflects upon the
individual sorrows and disappointments that must await him, with always in
the background the horrible dread of having his past discovered. Even his
children do not know the truth; they think their father has only been away
on a long journey. I give him my very best wishes and plenty of good
advice, and again he assures me of his undying gratitude. It seems to be
very easy to make these poor fellows grateful. Just a little human
feeling, that is all that is necessary.

This evening, having little appetite and bread and water not seeming quite
adequate to tempt what little there is, I turn to Landry's apples which
have been awaiting just such an occasion. I eat one; and it goes to just
the right spot. I have seldom tasted anything more delicious. On the
whole, it appears well to be on good terms with a gallery man; and I can
see that it would be especially so if he is the captain's trusty. I can
imagine that then he might be of great service; or might, on the other
hand, work one a deal of mischief if he wanted to. The trusty must have it
in his power very often to prejudice the captain for or against certain
prisoners by what he tells; and the captain would have no practicable
means of verifying the trusty's statements. A system of petty and very
exasperating tyranny would thus grow up. It is bad enough to be tyrannized
over by an officer, but to be tyrannized over by an officer's stool-pigeon
must be almost unendurable. While I have seen no examples myself, I
imagine from what I have heard that this state of things is not unknown,
as of course it is inevitable. One has only to recall one's own school
days to know that.

After I have finished my supper of apples, bread and water, one of the
trusties comes to the front of the cell, and I have a long talk with him.
He grows confidential, and tells me his story. It is a mournful but
perfectly natural one. An active boy, inclined to wildness; bad
companions; a father whose business called him from home; a mother unable
to cope with her wilful son; a life of dissipation; a picnic and drinking;
a row with some other toughs; a handy pistol and an unpremeditated
murder. Then comes the punishment which falls upon him, although others
are equally to blame.

What surprises me about this, like other tales that have reached me, is
the frank acknowledgment of the sin. There is usually an admiss