puted point which they refer to him. A few of his fellow-prisoners have a feeling of respect towards him for what he has been; but though admitted to be an excellent authority on all questions connected with play, he is, among the majority, only a subject of ridicule on account of his vacant look, absent manner, and wofully emaciated appearance.
A singular being, with coarse hair which reaches nearly to his middle, and whose large, idiotic countenance almost stamps him as the impersonation of vicious ignorance, is kneeling in as devout a position as he can command, before a little leaden image—obtained most probably by theft. His position is the only thing devout about him: out of his mouth, indeed, proceed both blessing and cursing, supplication and blasphemy; for not a moment ago, he was heaping the most horrible imprecations on the head of a comrade, who had nefariously made a "grab" at his portable saint; and he now urges his petition to Heaven with redoubled gusto, in extenuation of the dimly recollected, but very weighty catalogue of his past transgressions. Soon this impious creature will rise from his knees, under the impression that, through the
