One of the upper officers, whom I have seen since, told me we were a source of great anxiety to the authorities, and they were very glad to see our backs.
Mr.Anderson called on me in my cell and asked what he could do for me.
"Open the front door," I answered.
With a pleasant smile he regretted his inability to do that.
"Well then," I continued, "let me have something to read." "Yes," he said, "I can do that.

There are many books in the prison library." "But not one," I retorted, "fit for an educated man to read.

They are all selected by the chaplain." "Well," he answered, "I cannot give you what we haven't got." "But why not let me have my own books to read ?" I asked.
Mr.Anderson replied that such a thing was unheard of, but I persisted in my plea, which Colonel Milman generously supported.
"Well," said Mr.Anderson, "I suppose we must.

Your own books may be sent in, and the Governor can let you have them two at a time.

But, you know, you mustn't have such writings as you are here for." "Oh," I replied, "you have the power to check that.