Quill-driving, as he called it, was evidently, in his opinion, an ignominious employment.

However did I learn splicing! When I explained that I was bred at the seaside, and passionately loved boating, his sailor's heart warmed towards me again.

"This work ain't hard," he said; "you can make two brushes in an hour and a half, and I makes a dozen a week." I smiled.

It was a fine illustration of what is called prison labor.

Resuming, he said: "I'm the only one as makes 'em now, and I s'pose they wants more.