Between 8 and 9 parties of men were constantly passing to and fro to their various work. I usually, therefore, devoted that hour to contemplation, the selection of some half-a-dozen weeds for future decapitation, and a general look round. When things had settled down a bit, my knife came into requisition, and proceeding to one of my hiding-places I selected one piece of tobacco for immediate use, and sliced enough for my day’s consumption. I had some of these holes in various parts of the grounds, constructed of a slate floor about three inches square, with bricks for the roof and sides. I found them admirably adapted to resist rain, and many I daresay are still in existence. This enjoyment lasted till 11, when it became dangerous. (I was nearly choked on one occasion by foolishly having a lump of tobacco in my mouth when suddenly confronted by an official.) After dinner I had a good hour’s reading (the papers don’t arrive before; indeed, the postal arrangements are capable of considerable improvement), and so the afternoon passed comparatively pleasantly, between the daily paper, ’baccy, and the sloping bank. I often felt amused at the thought of how different all this was to what some people believed; and a conversation I “overheard” in the previous January, when one cad was explaining to his inebriated companion that imprisonment with hard labour was worse than penal servitude, came vividly to my recollection. On one of these sunny days I was much amused by an outline of the day’s telegrams as given me by a friendly turnkey. It was the day on which the news of young Vyse’s death whilst reconnoitring Arabi’s position reached England. “Them Arabians are rum chaps; ah, and can shoot too, I tell yer: that officer as was recognisizing—look at that!”