As I ascended the spiral staircase a shout of “Coming up!” intimated to the attics that a fresh victim was approaching, and I was formally received and conducted to my cell. The first impression of my permanent address was not encouraging. On a shelf was a Bible and prayer-book, a tin plate, a tin mug, and a tin knife, a wooden spoon, a box of salt, and a piece of soap, producing a combination such as may be seen in any of the illustrated papers during a small war, and supposed to illustrate, as circumstances require, the utensils in daily use amongst Zulus, Ashantis or whatever savages we may happen to be slaughtering at the time. In another corner was a diminutive basin the size of a saucepan, a slop-pail, and a can of water. On a shelf was a rug and two blankets; bed or bedstead was conspicuous by its absence; and on the table was a lump of rope. My turnkey, having examined my card, ordered in a bed and bedstead, and explained that the rope was to be converted into oakum. A few words and we understood one another; in short, he was a man after my own heart. I have no scruple in mentioning this, for I regret to say the man was dismissed shortly after—through no fault of mine, though indirectly connected with me. I can never forgive myself when I reflect that I had any share in the transaction, though it is a consolation to know that, had he been as careful as he ought, nothing could have brought the offence home to him. In the first instance, he was the victim of as foul a piece of treachery as ever disgraced humanity, and then he lost his head, and compromised himself when absolute silence would have cleared him. I shall narrate the particulars later on. In addition to the above-named furniture, the walls were decorated with a number of printed notices describing your duties, diet, &c., and a prayer (!); a wooden—so much a dozen—effort, supposed to be specially adapted to the requirements of “awakening burglars.” I learnt all these by heart by way of amusement, and will give them for the benefit of the reader. I take especial pleasure in reproducing them, as I believe they’ve never seen daylight before. * * * * * SYSTEM OF PROGRESSIVE STAGES FOR MALE PRISONERS SENTENCED TO HARD LABOUR. 1. A prisoner shall be able to earn on each weekday 8, 7, or 6 marks, according to the degree of his industry; and on Sunday he shall be awarded marks according to the degree of his industry during the previous week. 2. There shall be four stages, and every prisoner shall pass through them or through so much of them as the term of his imprisonment admits.