She does not bother with the girls’ little sordid histories. She sees in them so many voices, so many dancers. Her mind is intent on just one thing--the operetta, the minstrel show, the Easter chorus that is in progress. Her enthusiasm is unlimited. The girls see her up at 5 o’clock in the morning getting ready for rehearsals, trying out voices, arranging tableaux, planning costumes down to the smallest detail, as if this were the most important thing in the world, and they gradually forget to sulk, and turn in to work. It was Mrs. Wilkinson and the “Pirates of Penzance” that brought one of the most refractory inmates of the whole two hundred at Sherborn up out of the punishment cell where she was confined at regular intervals. There was no question about it, the girl had a remarkable voice, and the opera had to have her, and she would simply have to keep out of the punishment cell. Which she did, and on Saturday sang the part of the Pirate King with a dash and a finish that brought forth a storm of applause. She regards Mrs. Wilkinson as her especial charge. And, indeed, many of the girls have a maternal sort of attitude toward this little chaplain, with her wide blue eyes, her earnestness, her trick of asking advice from everyone, her intentness on her work, and her way of taking it for granted that everyone else is just as absorbed and just as enthusiastic as she is. Mrs. Wilkinson has been at Sherborn a little more than a year. The “Pirates of Penzance” is by no means the first achievement. All the public holidays are celebrated. Last year “The Sleeping Beauty” was given by the lowest grade in the prison, in which eleven nationalities were represented, many of the cast being unable to read and write. Fourth of July is always a gala day, and the festivities include a minstrel show. This year the minstrel show, given out of doors in a charming little amphitheatre on the prison grounds, was a deviation from the usual half-circle, end-men arrangement. There was a little darky cabin, choruses of cotton pickers, and a substantial plot. Every month there is a birthday party, given in honor of all those whose birthdays come in that month. An extra dish is provided for supper, and instead of regular chapel exercises there is an entertainment of some sort by the girls themselves. Folk dancing has been held under the trees, the kitchen girls danced “Pease porridge hot,” the sewing girls “Reap the flax,” and the laundry girls a Swedish clothes washing dance. From all this it might be gathered that we were stepping rather far across the line and giving our offenders a better time in prison than they have out of it. The ultimate object of these entertainments, of all this work which seems at first glance rather irrelevant to correction of criminal tendencies is something quite different from the mere pleasure to those who take part.