She went into her room. The other women were in theirs. I called,-- "Second Division!" All of the rest shut their doors. "Shut your door, Callahan!" I called pleasantly. "No, ma'am, I will not. I don't mean anything against you; but I will not shut my door, nor sleep on the bars. Do you know who reported me, and what my bed is taken out for?" "No, I do not." I was obliged to leave her standing in her door, and go round to the other side of the prison to see the other prisoners slid in. The moment I left Callahan, she began to rave. "By the Holy Jesus, I won't sleep on the bars. And I'll know who reported me, and what I'm reported for,--the miserable set of"-- "Callahan, stop!" I ran round and called. Neither of the Shop Matrons appeared, and I was told that it was because they were afraid of Callahan's violence. "No, I won't stop! I'll do something to make them lock me up. I won't sleep on the bars. It was Hardhack that reported me. I wish I'd struck her down!" "No! no! it was Thingsly," said a voice that I did not know. "Hardhack made the balls if Thingsly fried 'em. She's at the bottom of all the deviltry there is done here." Then she commenced a tirade of vituperations and oaths that made my ears tingle. In a few moments the Deputy made his appearance. "Your No. 1 key," he said to me, and proceeded to Callahan's room. I got it; and then followed him. "Now, Mr. Deputy," she said to him, when he went up to her; "you know I won't sleep on the bars. You might as well lock me up first as last, if you are going to punish me. But you ought to tell me what it's for. I haven't done anything but speak in the walk, and all of 'em do that." The Deputy made no reply; but I saw that he had buttoned up his coat as though he expected violence. She went peaceably to her solitary cell, however; but all of the way she begged the Deputy to tell her what he was locking her up for. When she saw me standing by the Deputy, she asked me where Hardhack and Thingsly were. "I don't know; they haven't been in the prison to-night." "They're afraid to come; but I wouldn't hurt the poor little lambs. They know they're guilty, and they know I'm locked up for nothing." "Shall I give her her bread and water to-night?" I asked the Deputy, as he turned to leave. "Yes." I knew the water would be grateful to the poor thing. I wished to ask the Deputy if Callahan had told the truth; but my own consciousness told me that she had. I had learned to esteem the man, and I could not bear to hear him say that he was accessory to such injustice, although I knew that it was his duty as a subordinate officer to do as he had done. I could not help questioning, Ought not the girl to be told what she is punished for? Has she been "admonished?" The poor thing had no redress for such injustice. That was the point that she, too, was revolving in her mind. When I gave her the bread and water, she said to me,--