About this time there occurred a circumstance which I must mention:--one of my fellow-prisoners with a deformed foot, asked the medical officer to amputate his leg below the knee. The request was complied with, and the patient, who was a very stout fellow, was provided with a mechanical substitute, with springs in the heel. This man's brother was a professional thief, and both are still in the same prison under different names. The artificial leg was altogether unsuitable for a man in his position in life, inasmuch as he would not be able to pay the expense of repairing it. That, however, I had nothing to do with. The leg was made by a prisoner, and being a nice looking article, it was exhibited to strangers in the doctor's room for a considerable time, to show them how kind they were to the prisoners, and to keep up that system, so dear to officials, of washing the outside of the platter for the public gaze, whilst all uncleanliness remained within. Another prisoner, who met with an accident at the public works, and lost his leg in endeavouring to save an officer's life, arrived at the prison and was also provided with a mechanical substitute. Feeling my health failing me, I thought that an artificial leg, by enabling me to take exercise, or get into the fields to work, might save me from again being sent to hospital; and seeing other prisoners getting them, I resolved to petition the director for the same favour. I was further encouraged in my resolution by the fact that it was a new director who was then inspecting the prison. The visiting day arrived, and as before, I was ushered into the presence of the new official, and placed between two warders with staves in their hands. At the desk sat the new director, by his side stood the governor, and in front of the desk the chief warder. "Well! what do you want?"