advice. Indeed, the prisoners called him their child; and he seemed
not dainty of their approach, but took them each by the hand, sat at
their side, addressed them as should one brother address
another;--yea, he made them to feel that what was their interest it
was his joy to promote.

The young theologian took him a seat close by the side of the
dreaming inebriate; and as he woke convulsively, and turned towards
him his distorted face, viewing with wild stare each object that met
his sight, the young man met his recognition with a smile and a warm
grasp of the hand. "I am sorry you find me here again-yes, I am."

"Better men, perhaps, have been here--"

"I am ashamed of it, though; it isn't as it should be, you see,"
interrupts Tom.

"Never mind-(the young man checks himself)-I was going to say there
is a chance for you yet; and there is a chance; and you must
struggle; and I will help you to struggle; and your friends--"

Tom interrupts by saying, "I've no friends."

"I will help you to struggle, and to overcome the destroyer. Never
think you are friendless, for then you are a certain victim in the
hands of the ruthless enemy--"

"Well, well," pauses Tom, casting a half-suspicious look at the
young man, "I forgot. There's you, and him they call old Spunyarn,
are friends, after all. You'll excuse me, but I didn't think of