outside the name of the
Prisoner, and be sent to the Governor, or they will not be
received. Persons attempting otherwise to introduce any article
to or for a prisoner, are liable to a fine or imprisonment, and
the Prisoner concerned may be severely punished."

The authorities are not so careful about the letter being legible by its
recipient. They do not insert it in an envelope, but just fold it up
and fasten it with a little gum, so that the letter is nearly sure to be
torn in the opening. The address is written on the back by the prisoner
himself, before the sheet is folded. Lines are provided for the purpose,
and it is pretty easy to see what the letter is. Surely a little more
consideration might be shown for a prisoner's friends. _They_ are not
criminals, and as the prison authorities incur the expense of postage,
they might throw in a cheap envelope without ruining the nation.

Mr. Kemp was released on May 25 in a state of exhaustion. It is doubtful
if he could have survived another three months' torture. What illness in
the frightful solitude of a prison cell is I know. I once caught a bad
cold, and for the first time in my life had the toothache. It came on
about two o'clock in the afternoon, and as applications for the doctor
are only received before breakfast, I had to wait until the next day
before I could obtain relief. It arrived of itself about one o'clock.
The doctor had considerately left my case till last, in order to give me
proper attention.

Mr. Ramsey was released on November 24. He was welcomed at the prison
gates by a crowd of sympathisers, and entertained at a breakfast in the
Hall of Science, where he made an interesting speech. By a whimsical
calculation, I reckoned that I had still to swallow twenty-one gallons
of prison tea and twelve prison sermons.

Christmas Day was the only variation in the remainder of my "term."
Being regarded as a Sabbath, it was a day of idleness. The fibre was
removed from my cell, my apartment was clean and tidy, a bit of dubbin
gave an air of newness to my old shoes, and after a good wash and an
energetic use of my three-inch comb, I was ready for the festivities of
the season. After a sumptuous breakfast on dry bread, and sweet water
misnamed tea, I took a walk in the yard; and on returning to my cell I
sat down and wondered how my poor wife was spending the auspicious day.
What a "merry Christmas" for a woman whose husband was eating his