."

"What do you intend to do when you get out this time?"

"Why, it's no use trying to get work; I am not able for anything very
hard now, and I think I shall make snyde half-crowns."

"You'll get caught again if you commence that game."

"No I won't. I did that when I was out last, and several times before,
and I have never been caught yet for that job. I can go and buy silver
spoons, and get tools that I can destroy in a few minutes."

"But why not go to the workhouse?"

"The workhouse! why, the workhouse in our country is as bad, if not
worse than this, and this is bad enough. No; I will never enter a
workhouse as long as I can get anything to steal. Some workhouses are
better than this; but then when you steal you are not always caught,
and you have yourself to blame if you're 'copt.' I will steal the very
first chance I get, as soon as I get out at the gates. They won't give
me work I can make a living at, and I'll not starve nor want a single
meal. I'll have better mutton the day I get out than we have here,
perhaps, and it will cost me nothing."

This prisoner was a thorough jail-bird, quiet and civil to his
officers, growling at his food, slow at work, but always doing a
little--a very good example of the type "civil and lazy." He received
his ten years' sentence about four years ago, when it was customary for
those who had revoked a licence to be refused a remission of sentence a
second time. But, in September, 1864, he was credited with
two-and-a-half years' remission, and in the summer of 1865 he was
credited with another three months, unasked, unexpected, and in the
latter case, quite inexplicable consistently with justice to others.
Indeed, the only explanation which can be given of this undeserved and
unexpected leniency is to suppose that the prison officials, like
shopkeepers, treat their "regular" customers best, and that they do not
see any reason why their business should not be encouraged, and the
prisons kept as full and quiet as possible by the same methods as other
men adopt who have to make an honest living by their trade. We have
seen the effects of cotton famine, and I am sure matters would have
come to a sad pass if we were to witness a _convict famine_, and to be
compelled to open our workhouse gates to the starving families of our
convict guardians.

It is very natural, and in a sense, laudable, that these latter should
seek by such means as are available to them to prevent the occ