The same gentleman has another peculiarity; it does not deserve to be stigmatised a weakness, its nature is so amiable. He has a firm belief that the best way of “breaking” a bad boy, is to appeal to his bygone affection for his mother. “The boy who is callous to an appeal of that sort is past hope in my opinion,” said the worthy governor, and in justice to the lads at the time in his keeping, I must confess that there was not a callous one amongst them, for they all most dutifully wept, in some cases bellowed as loudly as the stern restriction of the silent system would permit, as soon as the delicate subject was broached. The effect of this talisman was curiously exhibited in the case of a boy, about as depraved and hardened a little wretch as it is possible to imagine. He had only been admitted the previous day, and already he was incarcerated in a dark cell for outrageous conduct. I had never before seen a dark cell, and therefore had no idea of the horrible place it was. A cell within a cell. The interior of the first is so black that when the governor entered it I speedily lost sight of him, and I was only made aware of his opening an inner door by hearing the key clicking in the lock. “Come out here, lad,” he exclaimed firmly, but kindly. The lad came out, looming like a small and ragged patch of twilight in utter blackness until he gradually appeared before us. He was not a big lad, not more than thirteen years old, I should say, with a short-cropped bullet-head, and with an old hard face with twice thirteen years of vice in it. The prison dress consisted of a sort of blouse and trousers, both of a stout woollen material of slate colour. It was evening, and evidently, the captive, hopeless of release that night, had, previously to our disturbing him, composed himself for slumber. His method, doubtless derived from frequent experience of so disposing his attire as to get as much warmth out of it as possible, was somewhat curious: he had released his trousers of their braces, so that they descended below his feet, and the collar of his blouse was pulled up high over his ears. Owing to his embarrassed habiliments, he shambled out of the pitchy blackness at a snail’s pace, his white cotton braces trailing behind like a tail, and completing his goblin-like appearance. “This is a very bad lad, sir,” remarked the governor sternly; “he only came in yesterday, and to-day while out for exercise with the others, he must misconduct himself, and when the warder reproved him, he must swear some horrible oath against him. It is for that he is here. How many times have you been here, lad?” _Lad_ (gulping desperately). “Three times, sir!” _Governor_ (sternly). “What! speak the truth, lad.” _Lad_ (with a determined effort to gouge tears out of his eyes with his knuckles). “Four times, sir.” _Governor_. “Four times! and so you’ll go on till you are sent away, I’m afraid. Can you read, lad?”