necessity at the back. Six
or seven hours' incarceration in such a place might injure a strong
constitution and seriously damage a weak one. Surely it is scandalous
that unconvicted prisoners, some of whom are eventually acquitted,
should suffer this unnecessary hardship and incur this unnecessary risk.

Presently our lunch arrived. The platefuls of meat and vegetables had
a savory smell, our appetites were keen, and our stomachs empty. But
a difficulty arose. There were forks, but no knives; those lethal
instruments being forbidden lest prisoners should attempt to cut their
throats. I subsequently had the use of a tin knife in Newgate, but even
that, which used to be common in prisons, is now proscribed. The only
carving instruments allowed the guests in her Majesty's hotels is a
wooden spoon, although the tin knife still lingers in the Houses of
Detention. Among other elaborate precautions against suicide, I found
that the prisoners awaiting trial were furnished with quill pens. Steel
pens had been banished after the desperate exploit of one poor wretch,
who had stabbed away at his windpipe with one, and inflicted such grave
injuries that the officials had great difficulty in saying his life.

But _revenons a nos moutons_, or rather our forks. We disposed of the
vegetables somehow, and as for the meat, we were obliged to split and
gnaw it after the fashion of our primitive ancestors. We drank out of
the mouth of the claret bottle, passing it round till it was emptied. It
was probably a good honest bottle, but in the circumstances it seemed a
despicable fraud. We tried hard for another supply, but we failed. Being
anxious to prevent a display of inebriety in the dock, or desirous
to repress rather than stimulate our audacity, the venerable janitor
interposed the most effectual obstacles, and we were constrained to
reason down the remnant of our thirst, which, if I may infer from my own
case, was almost as insensible to argument as the judge himself.

Feeling very cold, we essayed a little exercise. The dimensions of
our den, which were three steps each way, did not allow much play for
individuality. Erratic pedestrianism was clearly dangerous, so we
rushed round in Indian file, like braves on the warpath; and, by way of
relieving the tedium, we speculated on the number of laps in a mile.
Our proceedings seemed to strike the wild beasts in the opposite den as
unaccountable imbecility. They grinned at us through the bar