This latter custom is intended to insure a proper compliance with the regulation, until the doctor’s sanction is obtained to the contrary. “Sitting up” has, however, been found to be half way to “going down”; and, as hospital is the goal to which all prisoners aspire, it does not require much inducement to commend their observance of this particular rule. The hospital consists of a large airy ward, fitted up with twenty beds. Through this, and communicating with a glass door, is a smaller room with three large windows, which gave a clear view of the outer world from Holborn Town Hall to St. Pancras Station. It was my good fortune to be located here, detached and alone, and yet sufficiently near to see and hear all that was going on. The menial duties of the hospital are performed by three prisoners selected for good behaviour. These billets are specially prized, and though associated with the most unpleasant duties, offer facilities for eating and drinking which, in the estimation of prisoners, cover a multitude of drawbacks. These cleaners eat up everything; indeed, so fat do they often become that it is a kind of unwritten rule that when they have increased a stone in weight they revert to prison life. The voracity they display is incredible, and until they become too dainty to care for anything but the best, they may daily be seen finishing eggs, tea, mutton, milk, beef tea, pudding, and arrowroot promiscuously, as they pass from patient to patient. The opportunity for this gluttony is unlimited, and a glance at the fare I subsisted on for over five months will convince the most sceptical that kindness and liberality can exist even in a prison; indeed, I attribute my being alive now to the tender care and medical skill I received, and can never adequately express my gratitude to the surgeons and the entire hospital staff. My dietary consisted of— 6 A.M. —Half-a-tumbler of rum and new milk. 7 ,, —A pint of tea, bread-and-butter, and an egg or two. 11 ,, —A pint of new milk. 12 noon —Beef-tea, rice-pudding, and two glasses of sherry. (I was offered, when I wished it, to substitute a chop, fish, chicken, rabbit, or _anything_ I might fancy.) 5 P.M. —A pint of tea, bread-and-butter, and an egg. 7 ,, —A pint of new milk. (This milk was so excellent, that often when I left it for the night, I skimmed off a thick coating of cream that would have shamed many dairies.) 8 ,, —A pint of arrowroot.