AT seven o'clock the next morning Jurgis was let out to get water to wash his cell -- a duty which he performed faithfully, but which most of the prisoners were accustomed to shirk, until their cells became so filthy that the guards interposed. Then he had more "duffers and dope," and afterward was allowed three hours for exercise, in a long, cement-walled court roofed with glass. Here were all the inmates of the jail crowded together. At one side of the court was a place for visitors, cut off by two heavy wire screens, a foot apart, so that nothing could be passed in to the prisoners; here Jurgis watched anxiously, but there came no one to see him.
Soon after he went back to his cell, a keeper opened the door to let in another prisoner. He was a dapper young fellow, with a light brown mustache and blue eyes, and a graceful figure. He nodded to Jurgis, and then, as the keeper closed the door upon him, began gazing critically about him.
"Well, pal," he said, as his glance encountered Jurgis again, "good morning."
"Good morning," said Jurgis.
"A rum go for Christmas, eh?" added the other. Jurgis nodded.
The new-comer went to the bunks and inspected the blankets; he lifted up the mattress, and then dropped it with an exclamation. "My God!" he said, "that's the worst, yet."
He glanced at Jurgis again. "Looks as if it hadn't been slept in last night. Couldn't stand it, eh?" "I didn't want to sleep last night," said Jurgis.