It is not only from their rags that the poverty of the prisoners is betrayed; one may learn from their hollow cheeks, their eager eyes, their feeble gait, that many--too many--are suffering from want of food. It is true that the law of the land gives to every prisoner a groat--four-pence a day--to be paid by the detaining creditor: yet the groat is not always paid, and can only be obtained if the creditor refuses it by legal steps, which a man destitute of money cannot take. What attorney will take up the case of a man without a farthing? If the debtor wins his case how is he to pay the attorney and costs out of four-pence a day? If he wishes to plead in _formâ pauperis_, the law allows the warder to charge six shillings and eight-pence for leave to go to the Court and half a crown for the turnkey to take him there--what prisoner on the poor side can pay these fees? So that when a prisoner is really poor he cannot get his groats at all, for the creditor will not pay them unless he is obliged. Again there are other ways of evading the law. If a debtor surrenders in June there is no Court till November and the creditor need not pay anything till the order of the Court is issued. There are a few doles and charities; but these amount to no more than about £100 a year, say, two pounds a week or six shillings a day. Now there are 600 prisoners as a rule. How many of these are on the poor side? And how far will six shillings a day go among these starving wretches? There are also the boxes into which a few shillings a day are dropped. But how far will these go among so many? It is within my certain knowledge that many would die of sheer starvation every week were it not for the kindness of those but one step above them.