Another woman’s inscription is a pathetic recollection of an old ballad—
“I wish to God my baby was born,
And smiling on its father’s knee,
And I, poor girl, lay in my grave,
The green grass growing over me.”
Beneath a design of a funeral monument a thief wrote this inscription (translated from Lombroso)—
“Here lies the body of poor Tulac Who, tired of stealing in this world, Goes to steal in another. His happy relatives have erected this memorial.”
Very significant of mental vacuity in solitude are some inscriptions given by Mr. Horsley:—
“21,000 times have I walked round this cell in a week.”
“3330 bricks in this cell.”
“131 black tiles, 150 red tiles in this cell.”
Good resolutions and moral exhortations are not uncommon:—
“It’s no good crying, you have got to do it, then after you have done it don’t do it any more; I wont.”