"At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Wood's astonishment and displeasure momentarily increased. Now there is none. My parents refuse to pay for my college. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. . But as the next moment all was profound darkness, Jack easily managed to break away from them. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess.
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