The method of serving the meals is distinctly German. The gaoler opens the door. He places the food on the ground at the entrance and pushes it along the floor into the cell as if the inmate were a leper. I tasted this repast, but it was even more noisome than the dinner, so I placed it beside the bowl which I had first received, and which with its spoon was left with me. Even if one could have swallowed it I should not have received a very sustaining meal, seeing that it had to suffice until 5.30 the next morning--13 hours without food. Moreover the food is served out sparingly. It is not designed to nourish the frame, but is just sufficient to keep it going though with depreciating strength. Daylight waned to give way to the blackness of night and in my cell I could not see my hand before my face. Yet darkness was not an unmitigated evil. It did bring relief from the enforced pacing for which I was devoutly thankful. Although torn with hunger I was so exhausted as to jump at the opportunity to lie down. But the planks were hard, and being somewhat slender in build my thighs speedily became sore. My brain from the fiendish exercise refused to stop spinning. I was like a drunken man and to lie down was to provoke a feeling of nausea which was worse than pacing. Then as the night wore on I began to shiver with the cold because I was denied any covering. How I passed the first night I cannot recall, but I am certain that a greater part of the time passed in delirium, and I almost cried with delight when I saw the first rays of the breaking day filter through the window. They at least did modify the terrible darkness. At 5.30 in the morning along came the gaoler. The cell was opened and a broom was thrust into my hands. To me that domestic utensil was as a new toy to a child. I grasped it with delight: it at least would give me some occupation. I set to sweeping the cell furiously. I could have enjoyed the company of that broom for hours, but a prisoner is only allowed two minutes to sweep his cell. Then the broom was snatched out of my hands and to the droning of "Pace!" which rang out continually like the tolling of a funeral bell, I knew the next day had begun. I fell back on to my bed almost broken at heart at being deprived of the humble broom. But by now the significance of German solitary confinement had been brought home to me fully. I would not be broken. I would ward off the terrible results at all hazards. So when the gaoler came with my breakfast he found me in high spirits--assumed for the occasion I may say. When he pushed in the basin of skilly I picked it up and set it beside the others. Pointing to the row of untouched food I turned to him cynically and remarked, "Don't you think you're making too much fuss of me?" "Ach!" he growled in reply. "If you persist in going on like this I shall think I am in a nursing home!"