Arrived at the cell I have another call from Captain Lamb. I have found him very pleasant and intelligent; and his men, so far as I can yet judge, seem to like him. He has some excellent ideas, and tells me that he would like to give his company setting-up exercises as he once did; but he abandoned them as he received no encouragement; on the contrary it was considered that they were subversive of discipline. This awful fetich, discipline. We most of us do so love it--for others. Why does it not occur to somebody in authority that the first and best means of getting real discipline, in the sense of good conduct, is to give these men exercise? Here they live, standing or sitting listlessly at their work all day, and shut in their narrow cells fourteen hours at night, with no chance to work off their superfluous energies and keep themselves in proper physical condition. The result in very many cases must be steady degeneration, not only of body, but of mind and soul as well. The Captain tells me that before breakfast I should clean out my cell; so after he leaves me I carry out his instructions with the assistance of the old broom in the corner. I sweep the dust out of the cell into a corner of the entrance; and the lever locks me back into the cell as I shut the door after the job is completed. This has not been long done before the clicking of the levers begins again in the distance. Every time we march to meals the clicking begins around the corner to my left and we march to the right; every time we go to the shop the clicking begins on my right and we march to the left. I am beginning to catch on to these various complications. Also to learn the etiquette of dress. When we go to breakfast we wear coats but no caps; to the shop, both caps and coats; to dinner, neither. Waistcoats seem to depend upon the taste and fancy of the wearer. I have worn mine, so far, only in the evening--for warmth. Marching to breakfast I find myself by the side of a young fellow who is conspicuous among the prisoners by the use of a blue shirt with collar and necktie. He is tall and good-looking, with an air of refinement which is appealing. I make no breaks upon the march. I shuffle my feet along the stone corridor like the rest, as we move slowly forward; letting other companies who have the right of way go in ahead of us. Then when our turn comes we march more rapidly, changing to single file as we near the mess-room. As the Captain has directed me, I fall in behind my blue-shirted companion and have my right hand on my left breast in ample time to salute the P. K. who, as at yesterday's dinner, stands at the entrance to the mess-hall.