The marches too are always the same--day after day--with only slight variations; as for instance the one after breakfast when, as it is unnecessary to visit the sewage disposal building, we march directly to the shop. But this afternoon it is the same as all afternoons; short-step at first until all the company have reached the walk; then a rap of the keeper's stick and full-step down the yard; swing around to the left; through the sewage disposal building for the benefit of the few who bring down their buckets in the afternoon; a momentary pause at the stands and then away to the shop. As we go down the half dozen steps into the building we break ranks and Jack Murphy comes up from his place, somewhere in the rear, with his usual pleasant greeting. "Well, Tom, how did you enjoy your dinner?" "It was all right, only to-day I didn't have time enough to eat it." "No, they cut us pretty short sometimes at dinner." No incident of particular interest happens this afternoon. My fingers are getting rather stiff and sore, working with the hard and brittle rattan that they give us. It is discouraging to attempt good work with such material, but we do the best we can. Stuhlmiller has taken the matter up with John, the citizen instructor, whose last name I have not yet learned, and with Captain Kane. They are thinking about repairing an old vat where the withes can be properly heated and softened by steam. That is all right, but it won't help my fingers much, as I shall be out of here long before it is done. About my going out there is a little joke. Every man wants to know how long I'm going to stay here. I tell them I don't see how I can remain beyond Sunday, as there is business I have to attend to in New York City next week. Whereupon Jack winks his eye and, speaking to the questioner in a loud whisper, says, "Oh, these new guys are always thinkin' they ain't going to stay long. New trial, or pardon or something. He'll be here for some time yet, so don't you worry. He's a little bug about going right out, you know." A joke which has its non-humorous side; founded, as it undoubtedly is, upon many a grim fact. As the Scotch saying runs, "A true joke is no joke." In the course of the afternoon, talking again of last night's occurrences upon which no further light has come, I retail to Jack my visit from Officer X this morning, and that gentleman's conversation. At the conclusion Jack looks over to me with scorn on his honest face and blurts out, "Say! I wonder what they take you for anyway!" "For a damn fool, evidently; that is, some of them do," is my answer. "But fortunately, Jack, they can't be all like that. Probably these officers last night were afraid that I should hear the disturbance that young fellow was making, and felt that they must hustle and get him out of the way on that account. At least that's how I am inclined to figure it out."