After reaching prison, the prisoner is practically dead to the world, except that his friends may visit him monthly. Some will return to citizenship again as honest men; others will never pass through the gate till they are carried out to a bed of lime in the little cemetery on the hill-side. During the transition from court to prison, kaleidoscopic scenes pass through the brain of the prisoner, and are continued indefinitely in his little 3×7 cell, where he spends his first sleepless night. In England all persons sentenced to penal servitude for a period of two years and over, are sent to what is called the Central Prison for six months for the purpose of observation. This is done that the authorities may be able to put the prisoner to some work best suited to his nature. The Central Prison is the Experimental Station of the English system. The inmate’s physical, mental and moral nature are carefully inquired into, and observations made. This reform was begun about a third of a century ago, and has met with success. After the newly arrived prisoner enters the Sing Sing or Bear Mountain Prison reception room, he is interviewed by an official, who forthwith takes his pedigree. If the prisoner happens to have any money or valuables, he is relieved of the same, and a receipt given him. They are returned when he leaves the prison. As soon as the reception is over, he is taken by a keeper to the State Shop. This is the storehouse for clothing. Here he receives a suit of clothes, including underwear, shoes, stockings and cap. The next place is the bath house, where the prisoner has the privilege of staying fifteen or twenty minutes, after which he dons his prison garments, and is sent to his cell for the night. “Some men have a natural aversion to water, and refuse to take a bath when they come here,” said the principal keeper of a large State institution, as he showed me around his establishment. Being anxious to know what they did in such a case, I asked: “What then?” “Oh,” said the P. K., with a twinkle in his eye, “we fix ‘em all right.” I said, “How do you do it?” “Well,” he said, pointing to a corner of the large stone bath-house, “We set ‘em up there, and turn the hose on them. The fact is,” said the P. K., “we give the kickers a good soaking, and then tear the clothes off their back, and they never rebel against a bath afterwards. It cures ‘em, sure.” This is the first step in the transformation of the prisoner. Next day he is taken before the P. K., who carefully interviews him, to know just what particular work he is best fitted for. The P. K. may interview him daily for three weeks or even a month before sending him to one of the shops. If his health is not good, the prison doctor may be called in, and if suffering from some contagious disease, he is sent to the hospital, or if it is found that he has incipient or chronic tuberculosis, he is sent to Napanoch, in the Ulster Mountains, or Clinton Prison, in the Adirondacks.