It Is Never Too Late to Mend. Charles Reade Reade

while speaking. He found himself in the middle of a group with a sly sneer on their faces mixed with some curiosity.

      “How long have I been there?” asked he quietly.

      “Six hours; it is nine o'clock.”

      “Only six hours! incredible!”

      “Well, sir, I suppose you are not sorry to be out?”

      “This is Mr. Hawes, the governor,” put in Mr. Lepel.

      Hawes continued jocosely, “What does it feel like, sir?”

      “I shall have the honor of telling you that in private, Mr. Hawes. I think, Lepel, we have an engagement with Mr. Jones at nine o'clock.” So saying, the new chaplain, with a bow to the governor, took his friend's arm and went to tea with Mr. Jones.

      “There, now,” said Hawes to the turnkeys, “that is a gentleman. He doesn't blurt everything out before you fellows; he reserves it for his superior officer.”

      Next morning the new chaplain requested Mr. Lepel to visit the prisoner's cells in a certain order, and make notes of their characters as far as he could guess them. He himself visited them in another order and made his notes. In the evening they compared these. We must be content with an extract or two.