The gallery boy has just passed along, filled my tin cup with water for the night, and exchanged a few words. He says that for twenty minutes each evening, from six-forty to seven, each man may "do what he likes" in his cell. A cornet is the latest addition to the noise. The whole episode impresses me as being such a mingling of the pathetic and the humorous that I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Consider the conditions which make twenty minutes of such a performance a boon to man! The gallery boy evinces a desire to strike up friendly relations; he brings me a box of matches in case I want to smoke, and offers to do anything for me he can. I am not a smoker, but I don't like to decline his good offices; so I stow away the matches for future reference. * * * * * Let me resume the thread of my story. The officer takes me from the Doctor's office to the room where the Bertillon measurements are taken. Here there is a fifth set of questions to answer. I have not the slightest possible objection to giving all the statistics the state officials want; my time is theirs, and there is no possible hurry. I may as well get rid of a few hours, more or less, of my "bit" in this way as in any other; so I shall not register any kick even if I am called upon to supply fifty sets of statistics instead of only five. The orders of the Bertillon clerk are given perfunctorily, with the air of one who is greatly bored by the whole performance. Naturally it is not so novel to him as to me. I remove my coat and put on, as they are handed to me by the assistant, a white linen shirt-bosom, a very dirty collar of the requisite size, and a black coat and necktie. Then I am photographed--front view and profile. The use of the peculiar apparel is, presumably, either to make the photograph clearer, or to have all "subjects" taken under similar conditions and looking somewhat as they do when out of prison and in ordinary clothes. Then my finger tips, on both hands, are carefully rolled one by one in India ink, and impressions of them taken on cards--twice separately, and twice all five at once. This seems to bore the clerk more than the photographing.