feet long,
measuring by my own feet, and about seven and a half feet high.[2]
The iron bed is hooked to the wall and folds up against it; the
mattress and blankets hang over it. The entire furniture consists of
one stool, a shelf or table which drops down against the wall when
not held up by hooks, an iron basin filled with water for washing
purposes, a covered iron bucket for other purposes, a tin cup for
drinking water which was filled shortly before noon by the convict
orderly, and an old broom which stands in the corner. A small wooden
locker with three shelves is fastened up in the farther left-hand
corner. The pillow hangs in the opposite right-hand corner over the
edge of the bed.

This is a cell in one of the oldest parts of the prison. It has a
concrete floor and plastered walls and ceiling, and looks clean. From
my grated door, being on the second tier, I can see diagonally out of
four heavily barred windows in the outer wall, looking across about
ten feet, over the open space which drops to the stone corridor
below, and rises to the highest galleries. Through the two lower
windows I catch glimpses of the ground, through the two upper, of
leaves and branches and the sky. The daylight in the cell is enough
at the present moment to read and write by, but none too good.
Outside it is a very bright, sunny day. If it were a dark day I could
not see much without a light. The electric bulb hangs from a hook in
the center of the rounded ceiling and my head nearly touches it.

So much for my present surroundings; now let me begin the story of
the day.

Upon arising this morning at home, the toothache, although I could still
feel it grumbling, had so modified that I became convinced that it was
largely imagination. As it has since disappeared it must have been
entirely imagination. There seems to be no excuse whatever for not going
ahead.

Having noticed yesterday that, although the prisoners are allowed to wear
their hair as they please, their faces are all smooth shaven, I begin the
day by the sacrifice of my mustache. I shave, dress, and eat as much
breakfast as I can--which is not very much.

At nine o'clock I am at the railway station to say good-bye to the Warden,
who has been called to Albany on business. After the train leaves at 9:30
I go to my office, where there are some last ma