The furniture of the hospitals is of a piece with that of the other parts of the prison, and only _one_ degree more comfortable. The beds are straw; the clothes are clean; the food various, according to the complaints of the sick, but never rises to the claims of humanity. In the winter, the patients are blessed with a stove, and are kept comfortably warm. This is the _dying_ place, but some are denied the comfort of even this, and die before they can get admittance. According to the laws of the prison, however, this is the only place in which medicine must be given, and the appointed department for all that are sick. But laws are only ropes of sand. The laws of the prison are merciful, but neither the rains of spring, the dews of morning, nor the sunbeams of heaven, can either soften or fertilize a rock. It was the original design that the whole prison should be kept warm, and large stoves were provided for this purpose; but it was found impossible to do this by the means used, and after a few years, the coldest part of the winter found not a spark of fire in any of the halls. Much is suffered on account of the cold; but it is a place of punishment, and this is the kind and feeling argument with which the keepers meet the entreaties of the shivering prisoners. Many a time have I made large balls by scraping the frost with my hand from the stone sides of my cell; and thousands of times have my hands been so chilled, that I had to tax my ingenuity to turn over the pages of my bible. Adjoining the prison is a large brick house, for the use of the keepers and guard. At some distance in the rear, is a large brick shop, in which the prisoners are employed during the day, at their labor, which was at first making nails and other smith work, but has since been changed to manufacturing cotton cloth, ginghams, plaids, &c. This shop is kept warm and clean.