The crowd in accents hushed reply
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

My fellow felon throws the blanket off him impatiently, sits up with a
jerk, and gropes for his pipe.

"God!" he says. "But this is red hot! Have you got another
match?"

I wonder what the Nazarene would have to say about it.

Sleep for a while. I wonder whether they'll give us time, or we'll be
able to sleep some of our sins off in the end, as we sleep our drink
off here? Then "The Paddock" and day light; but there's little time
for the Paddock here, for we must soon be back in court. The men
borrow and lend and divide tobacco, lend even pipes, while some break
up hard tobacco and roll cigarettes with bits of newspaper. If it is
Sunday morning, even those who have no hope for bail, and have long
horrible day and night before them, will sometimes join in a cheer as
the more fortunate are bailed. But the others have tea and bread and
butter brought to them by one of the Prisoners' Aid Societies, who ask
for no religion in return. They come to save bodies, and not to fish
for souls. The men walk up and down and to and fro, and cross and
recross incessantly, as caged men and animals always do--and as some
uncaged men do too.

"Any of you gentlemen want breakfast?" Those who have money and
appetites order; some order for the sake of the tea alone; and some
"shout" two or three extra breakfasts for those who had nothing on