His cell is small.

His cell is dark.

His cell is cold.

His labor is monotonous and hard.

He is cut off from the light of day, from freedom of movement, from the meeting of friends, from all amusement and pleasure and variety.

His hard labor is the least of his troubles—without it he could not support life. What he most suffers from is the monotony—the confinement—from being in prison.

He longs for his wife. He longs for his children. He longs for his friends.

But first and last and always; highest and deepest and broadest, with all his body and soul and mind he longs for Freedom!

A WOMAN IN PRISON.

Her cell is small.