LITMIR.BIZ

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you take a bit of advice, sir? If you wish a prisoner well don't you come between him and me. It will always be the worse for him, for I am master here and master I will be.”

      “Mr. Hawes,” replied the chaplain, “I have never done or said anything in the prison to lessen your authority, but privately I must remonstrate against the uncommon severities practiced upon prisoners in this jail. If you will listen to me I shall be much obliged to you—if not, I am afraid I must, as a matter of conscience, call the attention of the visiting justices to the question.”

      “Well, parson, the justices will be in the jail to-day—you tell them your story and I will tell them mine,” said Hawes, with a cool air of defiance.

      Sure enough, at five o'clock in the afternoon two of the visiting justices arrived, accompanied by Mr. Wright, a young magistrate. They were met at the door by Hawes, who wore a look of delight at their appearance. They went round the prison with him, while he detained them in the center of the building till he had sent Hodges secretly to undo Josephs and set him on the crank; and here the party found him at work.

      “You have been a long time on the crank, my lad,” said Hawes, “you may go to your cell.”

      Josephs touched his cap to the governor and the gentlemen and went off.

      “That is a nice quiet-looking boy,” said one of the justices; “what is he in for?”

      “He is in this time for stealing a piece of beef out of a butcher's shop.”

      “This time! what! is he a hardened offender? he does not look it.”

      “He has been three times in prison; once for throwing stones, once for orchard-robbing, and this time for the beef.”

      “What a young villain! at his age—-”

      “Don't say that, Williams,” said Mr. Wright dryly, “you and I were just as great villains at his age. Didn't we throw stones? rather!”

      Hawes laughed in an adulatory manner, but observing that Mr. Williams, who was a grave, pompous personage, did not smile at all, he added:

      “But not to do mischief like this one, I'll be bound.”

      “No,” said Mr. Williams, with an air of ruffled dignity.

      “No?” cried the other, “where is your memory? Why, we threw stones at everything and everybody, and I suppose we did not always miss, eh? I remember your throwing a stone through the window of a place of worship—(this was a school-fellow of mine, and led me into all sorts of wickedness). I say, was it a Wesleyan shop, Williams, or a Baptist? for I forget. Never mind, you had a fit of orthodoxy. What was the young villain's second offense?”

      “Robbing an orchard, sir.”

      “The scoundrel! robbing an orchard? Oh, what sweet reminiscences those words recall. I say, Williams, do you remember us two robbing Farmer Harris's orchard?”

      “I remember your robbing it, and my character suffering for it.”

      “I don't remember that; but I remember my climbing the pear-tree and flinging the pears down, and finding them all grabbed on my descent. What is the young villain's next—Oh! snapping a piece off a counter. Ah! we never did that—because we could always get it without stealing it.”

      With this Mr. Wright strolled away from the others, having had what the jocose wretch used to call “a slap at humbug.”

      His absence was a relief to the others. These did not come there to utter sense in fun but to jest in sober earnest.

      Mr. Williams hinted as much, and Hawes, whose cue it was to assent in everything to the justices, brightened his face up at the remark.

      “Will you visit the cells, gentlemen,” said he, with an accent of cordial invitation, “or inspect the book first?”

      They gave precedence to the latter.

      By the book was meant the log-book of the jail. In it the governor was required to report for the justices and the Home Office all jail events a little out of the usual routine. For instance, all punishments of prisoners, all considerable sicknesses, deaths and their supposed causes, etc., etc.

      “This Josephs seems by the book to be an ill-conditioned fellow; he is often down for punishment.”

      “Yes! he hates work. About Gillies, sir—ringing his bell and pretending it was an accident?”

      “Yes! how old is he?”

      “Thirteen.”

      “Is this his first offense?”

      “Not by a good many. I think, gentlemen, if you were to order him a flogging it would be better for him in the end.”

      “Well, give him twenty lashes. Eh: Palmer?”

      Mr. Palmer assented by a nod.

      “I beg your pardon, sir,” said Hawes, “but will you allow me to make a remark?”

      “Certainly, Mr. Hawes, certainly!”

      “I find twenty lashes all at once rather too much for a lad of that age. Now, if you would allow me to divide the punishment into two so that his health might not be endangered by it, then we could give him ten or even twelve, and after a day or two as many more.”

      “That speaks well for your humanity, Mr. Hawes; your zeal we have long known.”

      “Augh, sir! sir!”

      “I will sign the order, and we authorize you here to divide the punishment according to your own suggestion.” (Order signed.)

      The justices then went round the cells accompanied by Hawes. They went into the cells with an expression of a little curiosity but more repugnance on their faces, and asked several prisoners if they were well and contented. The men looked with the shrewdness of their class into their visitors' faces and measured them; saw there, first a feeble understanding, secondly an adamantine prejudice; saw that in those eyes they were wild beasts and Hawes an angel, and answered to please Hawes, whose eye was fixed on them all this time and in whose power they felt they were.

      All expressed their content. Some in tones so languid and empty of heart that none but Justice Shallow could have helped seeing through the humbug. Others did it better; and not a few overdid it, so that any but Justice Shallow would have seen through them. These last told Messrs. Shallow and Slender that the best thing that ever happened to them was coming to —— Jail. They thanked Heaven they had been pulled up short in an evil career that must have ended in their ruin body and soul. As for their present situation, they were never happier in their lives, and some of them doubted much whether, when they should reach the penal settlements, the access of liberty would repay them for the increased temptations and the loss of quiet meditation and self-communion and the good advice of Mr. Hawes and of his reverence, the chaplain.

      The jail-birds who piped this tune were without a single exception the desperate cases of this moral hospital. They were old offenders—hardened scoundrels who meant to rob and kill and deceive to their dying day. While in prison their game was to be as comfortable as they could. Hawes could make them uncomfortable; he was always there. Under these circumstances to lie came on the instant as natural to them as to rob would have come had some power transported them outside the prison doors with these words of penitence on their lips.

      They asked where that Josephs' cell was. Hawes took them to him. They inspected him with a profound zoological look, to see whether it was more wolf or badger. Strange to say, it looked neither, but a simple quiet youth of the human genus—species snob.

      “He is very small to be a ruffian,” said Mr. Palmer.

      “I am sorry, Josephs,” said Mr. Williams pompously, “to find your name so often down for punishment.”

      Josephs looked up, hoping to see the light of sympathy in this speaker's eyes. He saw two owls' faces attempting eagle but not reaching up to sparrow-hawk, and he was silent.

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