The composer of Ollanta—sub-manager of a school of correction!
“The boys are either bad or abandoned by their families at an early age. They are brought here and taught trades. They do all the work of the school.
“Here is their swimming pool and their dormitory. In their schoolroom you will see object-lessons upon the walls, pictures of what will befall them if they are bad.
“The worst thing they can do is to run away. They are put into prison when they return—here,” and he unlocked a big door. There were four little doors on each side of a dark room. Those on the right opened into closets two feet wide and six long, with bars overhead, all painted black, “to keep them from writing on the walls,” he explained. When the padlock was removed, the cubby-holes on the left were opened; two feet square, black.
“Here they must stand.”
I gasped.
“Oh, yes.”
“How long do you keep them in such a place? Surely not over night?”
“Not more than eight days.”
“And in the other side?”