ist principally of various editions of the Gospels, and the dull "lives" of saints who never troubled themselves about earthly affairs.
Thanks to these books, of which I soon get a selection, to be later on replaced by others sent by Aunt Vera; thanks to the whiteness of my quilt and tablecloth; and, lastly, to a few toilet objects found in my trunk, and an alarm clock, which I still possess, my cell appears less repulsive than heretofore. And when at night, dressed in one of those long white flannel dressing-gowns, which Aunt Vera has made especially for me, I stretch myself in my bed, I am happy as one rarely is between those walls covered with the dew of prisoners' tears, and dream of immense steppes, the blue sea, and a vast expanse free and flooded in sunlight.
 The regulations admit only articles in white, black, or grey.
[Illustration: AT NIGHT.]
This period, so poor in events, is for me most memorable, for it is the commencement of my monotonous life as a p