perform my
religious devotions in the house of God, where an ill-dressed person is
always regarded as an exceptionally bad sinner, and expected to show
an extraordinary amount of humility and contrition. Linen was never a
burning question in Holloway Hotel, and cuffs and collars were unknown,
except when a short guest wore a long shirt. My toilet was therefore
easily completed; and with a good wash, and the energetic use of a
three-inch comb, I was soon ready for the festivities of the season.
At eight o'clock I received the first instalment of my Christmas fare,
in the shape of three-quarters of a pint of tea and eight ounces of
dry bread. Whether the price of groceries was affected by the Christmas
demand, or whether the kitchen was demoralised by the holiday, I am
unable to decide; but I noticed that the decoction was more innocuous
than usual, although I had thought its customary strength could not be
weakened without a miracle. My breakfast being devised on the plainest
vegetarian principles, there was no occasion for grace before meat, so I
sipped the tea and munched the bread (eight ounces straight off requires
a great deal of mastication) without breathing a word of thanks to the
giver of all good things.
After a remarkably short hour's tramp round the exercise ring in a
thieves' procession, doing the rogue's march without the music, I
returned to my cell, and sitting down on my little three-legged stool, I
was soon lost in thought. I wondered what my wife was doing, how she was
spending the auspicious day. What a "merry Christmas" for a woman with
her husband eating his heart out in gaol! But "that way madness lies,"
and I had fought down the demon too long to give way then. Springing to
my feet, I sped up and down my cell like a caged animal, and after many
maledictions on "the accursed creed," I succeeded in stilling the tumult
of my emotions. A great calm followed this storm, and resuming my seat
and leaning my back against the plank-bed, I took a scornful retrospect
of my prosecution and trial. How insignificant looked the Tylers,
Giffards, Norths and Harcourts! How noble the friends and the party
who had stood by me in the dark hour of defeat! A few short weeks, and I
should be free again to join their ranks and strike hard in the thickest
of the battle, under the grand old flag of Freethought.
The chapel-bell roused me from phantasy. The other half of the prison
disgorged its inmates, and I could hea
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