I cannot allow this opportunity to pass without noting the consideration that prompted the warder to give me a couple of bone studs to replace my own, without which I could not have kept my shirt closed. It was a kindly act, and tends to show that, as a rule and with very few exceptions, prison warders are a well-disposed race if properly treated, and desirous of rendering any civility to men of my class. If a prisoner is fool enough to stand on his dignity, he must not be surprised if his conduct is resented. Another peculiarity I observed here for the first time, but which I found to be the invariable rule at “Newgate” and “Coldbath,” was, that on arrival one was always placed in a most uncomfortable cell in the basement or even below, and gradually promoted upwards. I can only suppose it was intended as a kind of purgatory, with the idea of giving one a bird’s-eye view of what might be expected should one’s behaviour make him ineligible for the greater luxuries associated with “apartments on the drawing-room floor.” Having dressed, I accompanied a turnkey through innumerable passages abounding in steel gates, which snapped like rat traps as we passed through, till we emerged into what appeared the main passage of the prison. My conductor here handed me over to another warder with a “Here you are; here’s another one;” and I again, and for the third time, had to undergo the “abridged catechism.” I found this warder a capital fellow. He tried to put matters as cheerfully as he could; and when ushering me into my cell, and noting my horror at its bleak appearance, said in a manner that was kindly meant, “Oh! you’ll be all right when you’ve settled down a bit.”