e　where　I　had　put　in　my　boyhood　days。
  〃How　many　times　when　a　lad；　with　wondering　eyes；　and　a　heart　stirred　with　childhood's　pure　sympathy；　I　had　watched　the　poor　waifs　from　time　to　time　led　within　its　doors。　　It　was　my　turn　now。　　I　entered　the　charge　room；　and　with　business…like　precision　disclosed　my　errand；　viz。　that　I　wished　to　surrender　myself　for　having　committed　a　felony。　My　story　was　doubted。　　Question　followed　question；　and　confirmation　must　be　waited。　　'Why　had　I　surrendered？'　'I　was　a　rum'un。'　'Cracked。'　'More　fool　than　rogue。'　'He　will　be　sorry　when　he　mounts　the　wheel。'　These　and　such　like　remarks　were　handed　round　concerning　me。　　An　hour　passed　by。　　An　inspector　enters；　and　announces　the　receipt　of　a　telegram。　　'It　is　all　right。　　You　can　put　him　down。'　And　turning　to　me；　he　said；　'They　will　send　for　you　on　Monday；'　and　then　I　passed　into　the　inner　ward；　and　a　cell。　　The　door　closed　with　a　harsh；　grating　clang；　and　I　was　left　to　face　the　most　clamorous　accuser　of　all　my　own　interior　self'
  〃Monday　morning；　the　door　opened；　and　a　complacent　detective　stood　before　me。　　Who　can　tell　the　feeling　as　the　handcuffs　closed　round　my　wrists；　and　we　started　for　town。　　As　again　the　charge　was　entered；　and　the　passing　of　another　night　in　the　cell；　then　the　morning　of　the　day　arrived。　　The　gruff；　harsh　'Come　on'　of　the　gaoler　roused　me；　and　the　next　moment　I　found　myself　in　the　prison　van；　gazing　through　the　crevices　of　the　floor；　watching　the　stones　flying　as　it　were　from　beneath　our　feet。　　Soon　the　court…house　was　reached；　and　hustled　into　a　common　cell；　I　found　myself　amongst　a　crowd　of　boys　and　men；　all　bound　for　the　'dock。'　One　by　one　the　names　are　called；　and　the　crowd　is　gradually　thinning　down；　when　the　announcement　of　my　own　name　fell　on　my　startled　ear；　and　I　found　myself　stumbling　up　the　stairs；　and　finding　myself　in　daylight　and　the　'dock。'　What　a　terrible　ordeal　it　was。　　The　ceremony　was　brief　enough；　'Have　you　anything　to　say？'　'Don't　interrupt　his　Worship；　prisoner！'　'Give　over　talking！'　'A　month's　hard　labour。'　This　is　about　all　I　heard；　or　at　any　rate　realised；　until　a　vigorous　push　landed　me　into　the　presence　of　the　officer　who　booked　the　sentence；　and　then　off　I　went　to　gaol。　I　need　not　linger　over　the　formalities　of　the　reception。　　A　nightmare　seemed　to　have　settled　upon　me　as　I　passed　into　the　interior　of　the　correctional。
  〃I　resigned　my　name；　and　I　seemed　to　die　to　myself　for　henceforth。　332B　disclosed　my　identity　to　myself　and　others。
  〃Through　all　the　weeks　that　followed　I　was　like　one　in　a　dream。　Meal　times；　resting　hours；　as　did　every　other　thing；　came　with　clock…like　precision。　　At　times　I　thought　my　mind　had　goneso　dull；　so　callous；　so　weary　appeared　the　organs　of　the　brain。　　The　harsh　orders　of　the　gaolers；　the　droning　of　the　chaplain　in　the　chapel；　the　enquiries　of　the　chief　warder　or　the　governor　in　their　periodical　visits；all　seemed　so　meaningless。
  〃As　the　day　of　my　liberation　drew　near；　the　horrid　conviction　that　circumstances　would　perhaps　compel　me　to　return　to　prison　haunted　me；　and　so　helpless　did　I　feel　at　the　prospects　that　awaited　me　outside；　that　I　dreaded　release；　which　seemed　but　the　facing　of　an　unsympathetic　world。　　The　day　arrived；　and；　strange　as　it　may　sound；　it　was　with　regret　that　I　left　my　cell。　　It　had　become　my　home；　and　no　home　waited　me　outside。
  〃How　utterly　crushed　I　felt；　feelings　of　companionship　had　gone　out　to　my　unfortunate　fellow…prisoners；　whom　I　had　seen　daily；　but　the　sound　of　whose　voices　I　had　never　heard；　whilst　outside　friendships　were　dead；　and　companionships　were　for　ever　broken；　and　I　felt　as　an　outcast　of　society；　with　the　mark　of　'gaol　bird'　upon　me；　that　I　must　cover　my　face；　and　stand　aside　and　cry　'unclean。'　Such　were　my　feelings。
  〃The　morning　of　discharge　came；　and　I　am　once　more　on　the　streets。　My　scanty　means　scarcely　sufficient　for　two　days'　least　needs。　　Could　I　brace　myself　to　make　another　honest　endeavour　to　start　afresh？　Try；　indeed；　I　did。　　I　fell　back　upon　my　antecedents；　and　tried　to　cut　the　dark　passage　out　of　my　life；　but　straight　came　the　questions　to　me　at　each　application　for　employment；　'What　have　you　been　doing　lately？'　'Where　have　you　been　living？'　If　I　evaded　the　question　it　caused　doubt；　if　I　answered；　the　only　answer　I　could　give　was　'in　gaol；'　and　that　settled　my　chances。
  〃What　a　comedy；　after　all；　it　appeared。　　I　remember　the　last　words　of　the　chaplain　before　leaving　the　prison；　cold　and　precise　in　their　officialism：　　'Mind　you　never　come　back　here　again；　young　man。'　And　now；　as　though　in　response　to　my　earnest　effort　to　keep　from　going　to　prison；　society；　by　its　actions；　cried　out；　'Go　back　to　gaol。　　There　are　honest　men　enough　to　do　our　work　without　such　as　you。'　〃Imagine；　if　you　can；　my　condition。　　At　the　end　of　a　few　days；　black　despair　had　wrapt　itself　around　every　faculty　of　mind　and　body。　　Then　followed　several　days　and　nights　with　scarcely　a　bit　of　food　or　a　resting…place。　I　prowled　the　streets　like　a　dog；　with　this　difference；　that　the　dog　has　the　chance　of　helping　himself；　and　I　had　not。　　I　tried　to　forecast　how　long　starvation's　fingers　would　be　in　closing　round　the　throat　they　already　gripped。　　So　indifferent　was　I　alike　to　man　or　God；　as　I　waited　for　the　end。〃
  In　this　dire　extremity　the　writer　found　his　way　to　one　of　our　Shelters；　and　there　found　God　and　friends　and　hope；　and　once　more　got　his　feet　on　to　the　ladder　which　leads　upward　from　the　black　gulf　of　starvation　to　competence　and　character；　and　usefulness　and　heaven。
  As　he　was　then；　however；　there　are　hundredsnay；　thousandsnow。　Who　will　give　these　men　a　helping　hand？　　What　is　to　be　done　with　them？　Would　it　not　be　more　merciful　to　kill　them　off　at　once　instead　of　sternly　crushing　them　out　of　all　semblance　of　honest　manhood？　Society　recoils　from　such　a　short　cut。　　Her　virtuous　scruples　reminds　me　of　the　subterfuge　by　which　English　law　evaded　the　veto　on　torture。　Torture　was　forbidden；　but　the　custom　of　placing　an　obstinate　witness　under　a　press　and　slowly　crushing　him　within　a　hairbreadth　of　death　was　legalised　and　practised。　　So　it　is　to…day。　　When　the　criminal　comes　out　of　gaol　the　whole　world　is　often　but　a　press　whose　punishment　is　sharp　and　cruel　indeed。　　Nor　can　the　victim　escape　even　if　he　opens　his　mouth　and　speaks。
  CHAPTER　8。　　THE　CHILDREN　OF　THE　LOST。
  Whatever　may　be　thought　of　the　possibility　of　doing　anything　with　the　adults；　it　is　universally　admitted　that　there　is　hope　for　the　children。　〃I　regard　the　existing　generation　as　lost；〃　said　a　leading　Liberal　statesman。　　〃Nothing　can　be　done　with　men　and　women　who　have　grown　up　under　the　present　demoralising　conditions。　　My　only　hope　is　that　the　children　may　have　a　better　chance。　　Education　will　do　much。〃　But　unfortunately　the　demoralising　circumstances　of　the　children　are　not　being　improvedare；　indeed；　rather；　in　many　respects；　being　made　worse。　　The　deterioration　of　our　population　in　large　towns　is　one　of　the　most　undisputed　facts　of　social　economics。　　The　country　is　the　breeding　ground　of　healthy　citizens。　　But　for　the　constant　influx　of　Countrydom；　Cockneydom　would　long　ere　this　have　perished。　But　unfortunately　the　country　is　being　depopulated。　　The　towns；　London　especially；　are　being　gorged　with　undigested　and　indigestible　masses　of　labour；　and；　as　the　result；　the　children　suffer　grievously。
  The　town…bred　child　is　at　a　thousand　disadvantages　compared　with　his　cousin　in　the　country。　　But　every　year　there　are　more　town…bred　children　and　fewer　cousins　in　the　country。　　To　rear　healthy　children　you　want　first　a　home；　secondly；　milk；　thirdly；　fresh　air；　and　fourthly；　exercise　under　the　green　trees　and　blue　sky。　　All　these　things　every　country　labourer's　child　possesses；　or　used　to　possess。　For　the　shadow　of　the　City　life　lies　now　upon　the　fields；　and　even　in　the　remotest　rural　district　the　labourer　who　tends　the　cows　is　often　denied　the　milk　which　his　children　need。　　The　regular　demand　of　the　great　towns　forestalls　the　claims　of　the　labouring　hind。　　Tea　and　slops　and　beer　take　the　place　of　milk；　and　the　bone　and　sinew　of　the　next　generation　are　sapped　from　the　cradle。　　But　the　country　child；　if　he　has　nothing　but　skim　milk；　and　only　a　little　of　that；　has　at　least　plenty　of　exercise　in　the　fresh　air。　　He　has　healthy　human　relations　with　his　neighbours。　　He　is　looked　after；　and　in　some　sort　of　fashion　brought　into　contact　with　the　life　of　the　hall；　the　vicarage；　and　the　farm。　　He　lives　a　natural　life　amid　the　birds　and　trees　and　growing　crops　and　the　animals　of　the　fields。　　He　is　not　a　mere　human　ant；　crawling　on　the　granite　pavement　of　a　great　urban　ants'　nest；　with　an　unnaturally　developed　nervous　system　and　a　sickly　constitution。
  But；　it　will　be　said；　the　child　of　to…day　has　the　inestimable　advantage　of　Education。　　No；　he　has　not。　　Educated　the　children　are　not。　They　are　pressed　through　〃standards；〃　which　exact　a　certain　acquaintance　with　A　B　C　and　pothooks　and　figures；　but　educated　they　are　not　in　the　sense　of　the　development　of　their　latent　capacities　so　as　to　make　them　capable　for　the　discharge　of　their　duties　in　life。　The　new　generation　can　read；　no　doubt。　　Otherwise；　where　would　be　the　sale　of　〃Sixteen　String　Jack；〃　〃Dick　Turpin；〃　and　the　like？　　But　take　the　girls。　　Who　ca