lested, he would
keep off intruders on what he evidently considered his domain by darting
at them in a ferocious manner. On one occasion I noticed a fly that had
one of its hind legs turned up, apparently out of joint. As it was
feeding on my hand I tried to put my finger on the leg to press it down.
During three or four such attempts it moved away, after which it
appeared to recognize my kind intention and stood perfectly still while
I pressed on the leg. It may be unnecessary to add that I failed in
performing a successful surgical operation.

As the Winter approached the flies began to lose their legs and wings;
those that lost their wings would walk along the wall until they came to
the usual waiting spot, and as soon as I put a finger against the wall
the maimed creature would crawl to the usual place on my hand for
breakfast. Indeed, the long years of solitude had produced in me such an
unutterable longing for the companionship of something which had life
that I never destroyed any kind of insect which found its way into my
cell--even when mosquitoes lit on my face I always let them have their
fill undisturbed, and felt well repaid by getting a glimpse of them as
they flew and with the music of their buzzing.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE DAYS O' SUMMER MERRILY SPENT IN THE LAND OF THE HEATHER.

In the cell next to mine was a prison genius named Heep, who was one of
the most singular characters I ever met. As I shall have occasion to
speak of him frequently, I may as well give here a sketch of his life as
related to me by himself. He was born in the town of Macclesfield, near
Manchester, in 1852, of respectable mechanics, or tradespeople as they
are called in England. His father died when Heep was about 5 years of
age, and after a time his mother married a carpenter and joiner of the
place.

Young Heep was a lively child, up to all sorts of tricks, and does not
remember the time since he could walk that he was not in some mischief,
and, as he remarked, "took to all sorts of deviltry as naturally as a
duck to water." As long as his father lived there was not much check on
his mischievous propensities, but his stepfather proved to be a severe
and stern judge, and brought him to book for every irregularity,
thrashing him most unmercifully for each offense. His mother could not
have filled her maternal duty very judiciously, judging from the fact
that before he was 12 years old she set him to follow and watch his