at the last moment the newspapers and printing establishments began to hammer the proposition and the government abandoned it. “But how would you get prisoners competent to do the work?” was asked Colonel Garzon. “Well,” he replied, “we would be compelled to hire experts at first and keep an eye for printers in other prisons, and also inform the police to be extra vigilant. It wouldn’t be long before we would have a competent force.” The sanitary conditions of Principe are perfect or as nearly perfect as a medical staff of fifteen physicians can make them. The floors, walls and roofs of the entire prison are of Cuban stone and are “sluiced” twice a day. The “dormitories” are large, airy casemates and both ends are covered by steel bars which make a window fifteen feet square. A continuous sea breeze blows through them. The berths or bunks extend in one tier on each side of the casemate and are made to fold up against the wall. The “bed clothes” consist of two duck sheets and a blanket for cool weather, which are changed twice a week. A row of shower baths completes the furniture and the inmates are required to take at least two baths a day. There are three hospitals--the tuberculosis, contagious diseases and the “public” ward. They are upon the roof of the south bastion and face the sea. Their sanitation, according to the physicians, can not be improved upon. The “lungers” sleep practically out of doors, or rather with just enough overhead to protect them from the heavy tropical dews. So healthy and sanitary is the prison that very few cases of sickness occur. The majority of the inmates of the hospitals are those sick, principally with consumption, when they arrive. There has never been an insurrection or mutiny in Principe. In fact, scores of prisoners when released at the end of their terms have asked Colonel Garzon to save their “cup and pan,” and invariably they return to use them. They really fare better “inside” than “outside.” The average Cuban of the criminal type has but few necessities of life, and these of the barest. “How do you manage to keep the prisoners so orderly and apparently well satisfied?” was asked General Castillo. “We try to make them contented,” he replied. “We have a band that gives concerts in the court yard. We let them study, work them, feed them well, keep them sanitary, study each one personally and let them know they must obey the regulations. Each man knows he will get fair and impartial treatment. If one gets into trouble (and fist fighting is the only trouble we have), we simply put him in solitary confinement. There is nothing that hurts a Cuban prisoner as badly as to keep him from talking and away from his associates, and besides, those in solitary confinement are not allowed tobacco. We never prevent them from talking with one another, and besides, each man gets two months off of each year for good behavior. We hope to put the prison upon a self-supporting basis during the present administration.”